Perfect

"Martin lent it to me," she said, anticipating my question. And then she added, "I'm dressed for my meeting, don't worry about it" anticipating my other question.

She popped open the front trunk and I dropped my bag on top of hers. She opened the passenger door for me.

"Nice ride," I said, admiring the leather finishes in the cabin.

"Nothing but the best for you babe." She shut the passenger door with a reassuring thud.

She handed me a scarf to hold down my hair and donned one as well. Her right hand pushed the button to open the top and her left hand turned the ignition key.

"Thelma and Louise time," she said, slipping on her sunglasses.

"Wait," I said.

She moved the shift knob into neutral and pulled up the emergency brake.

"Forget something?" she asked.

I pointed to my cheek. She smiled, and then kissed it.

"Now I'm ready."

* * *

The car zipped up the 101, the wind whistling through the cabin. Even with the windscreen up we had to talk loudly.

"So where are we headed?"

"Goldeneye."

"Pinot?" I asked, to be sure. Goldeneye was a world class Pinot made by the Napa Valley Duckhorn family.

"Yep. I'm going to buy a bunch of their used barrels for a second label that Martin's developing. We've got contracts to buy pinot and I want to buy their extra once used barrels."

"Sounds exciting. And the B&B?"

"Anderson Valley Inn and Spa. I've booked massages for us tomorrow after breakfast."

"You're spoiling me," I said, though welcoming it.

"Get used to it."

* * *

Her meeting ended at 3. We had a tour and tasting at the winery and then drove to the B&B, a 19^th century mansion built by a railroad tycoon as his country hideaway. It had four upstairs suites and a one star Michelin restaurant on the ground floor. We went up the stairs to an expansive front porch. Just inside was the living room, which also doubled as the reception area. An older man was shuffling papers at his desk when we walked in.

"Can I help you?" His eyes lit up when he saw Gretchen. She'd just left her meeting, and her clothes and her make-up were just so. I think I was invisible.

"Striler ... party of two," she said.

He looked in his old fashioned reservation ledger, running his finger down the page. "Ah yes ... I've booked the Rose room for you (each of the rooms was named after a flower). And I see you've also made a 7 p.m. reservation for our restaurant."

He presented a reservation form for Gretchen to sign. I looked over her shoulder. The room was $1,200. I dug in my purse for my wallet and pulled out my AMEX card. "Let me get this," I said.

"Nonsense," said Gretchen, taking the card from me and putting it back in my purse. "This is a business trip."

"Well at least let me get dinner."

"Dinner's included with the room, ma'am," the man interjected.

"Fine," I said, stymied. "At least let me get the wine."

"Deal," said Gretchen. She signed the reservation card and handed it back to the man. He handed her the key to the room.

"Would you like to hear about the estate and the amenities?"

"No," said Gretchen, politely declining. "We have a tour of the spa we need to get to."

We picked up our bags and proceeded up the wide staircase to the second floor.

"We're not scheduled to take a tour of the spa," I said.

"Susshhh," she said. "Would you rather be in the room kissing me for the next fifteen minutes or listening to him drone on about the history of this house?"

"Climb faster," I answered.

We reached the top of the staircase. The Rose room was the first door on the left.

"Unlock the door," I said. "Fuck the spa appointment. We're wasting time."

* * *

I found that kissing a woman was a far different experience from kissing a man. Men are goal oriented. Kissing, breast play, or any kind of foreplay is simply a temporary (and sometimes unwelcome) stopping point on the way to their destination. With Gretchen, kissing was the main course. We started in our lavishly appointed room, and somehow ending the session on the floor of the bathroom.

"Shit. It's five to seven," she said, looking at the clock. "We've got to haul ass for our 7 o'clock reservation. They'll probably give us five minutes grace before they cancel our reservation."

Her business outfit was taken off before we started fooling around. She scrambled to pick up the pieces of her ensemble and brush her hair. I'd laid out what I was going to wear, so I just freshened my make-up and was ready to go in five minutes. Gretchen turned out to be a stickler, and insisted on ironing her blouse before we left. We ran down the stairs and made it before we lost our table.

We were already giddy from being together, by ourselves, for the first time, and the last minute rush to get to the restaurant got our adrenaline pumping. We were now sitting in a one star restaurant. It was a prix fixe menu, $250 per person, but it was included with our room. I didn't know life could be this wonderful. Gretchen was sitting across from me, with me, and we were about to have one of the best meals of the year. I was sorry I ever thought that being in a freezing vineyard in a driving rainstorm was as good as it gets. I was wrong. But I wasn't sorry I was wrong.

The dinner itself was a triumph. I won't bore you with all of the details, but we started with an asparagus soup using saffron infused broth, a salad from the greens in the restaurant's biodynamic garden, and quail that were raised in a farm down the road. I ordered a viognier to start, then a pinot with the main course. Gretchen promised a special treat with dessert. We were sated with food, our company, and a budding love.

We finished the main course almost three hours later. I was grateful we were staying upstairs. After that punishing meal the last thing I wanted to do was get into a car and drive an hour or two. Gretchen set this up right. I was absentmindedly sipping my wine, but I was really thinking about what sex would be like with Gretchen. Would I like it? Would I please her? I was starting to get anxious and regretting ordering the caffeinated coffee.

She didn't seem anxious at all. That's one of the things that drew me to her. She was so calm and collected. She was casually sipping her coffee and watching a couple sitting in her sight line. I looked behind me, and saw a man whispering into the ear of his girlfriend or wife. They were laughing together, and that brought a smile to her face. There was so much I wanted to learn about her.

Gretchen insisted we order the flourless chocolate cake. I wasn't going to fight her choice. Her special treat was a late harvest gewürztraminer. I swirled my glass and inhaled a fragrance of honeysuckle and pears. I took a sip. Viscous. A hint of sweetness. A dazzling mixture of concentrated flavors.

"It's wonderful. What winery made this?" I asked.

"We made a few bottles from a vineyard we own in Anderson Valley."

"It's lovely. Who was the winemaker?"

"I was."

"I didn't know you were a winemaker."

"I'm not a winemaker. This was my one and only effort at making wine. We only made one barrel. Twenty-four cases. This is one of the last bottles in my cellar." She swirled the wine in her glass and took a sip.

"Came out well, didn't it?" she said, rhetorically. She wanted to hear it from me. She wasn't one to fish for compliments, so I was flattered that my opinion was important to her.

"It did," I confirmed to her. "The structure of the wine is perfect. Fragrant nose, mouth filling flavors and a lingering finish." That about summed it up.

"Thank you," she said. She dabbed a finger in her glass and offered it to me. I sucked the end of her finger, our eyes locked together.

"But that's not why I picked it out," she said, not breaking eye contact and edging closer to me.

"Do tell," I invited her. She was being mysterious, and I liked it.

She leaned over and kissed me, this time for real. Her hand went around the back of my head to cradle it, and her tongue sought mine. I willingly returned her kiss, gentle and not in desperation. We were going to take this slow.

She broke off the kiss and took another sip of wine. "I picked out this wine because it tastes like you."

"Is that so?" Then I challenged her. "All of me?"

She smiled a wicked smile. "I'm going to find out."

She signaled for the check. She jotted down our room name and signed, and then it was time to leave. To go upstairs. To find out what it would be like to make love with a woman, a woman I love. My knees were shaking on the assent up the stairs. She was going to see me naked for the first time. Will she be disappointed?

She sensed my anxiety. "Is it the coffee Jamie?" she asked politely, closing the door softly behind us, "or are you just nervous?"

"It's both," I confessed. "I'm worried."

"Worried about what, love?" She almost looked hurt.

I wanted to be honest with her. "I'm worried that you're not going to like me ... that you're not going to find me desirable." She knew that I was a confident winemaker, yet didn't know I was a rube when it came to matters of the heart. I was probably as irascible in real life as she was by reputation. My insecurities were laid out in front of her. I felt naked and I hadn't yet taken off my clothes.

She crowded me so my back was pressed against the wall. We were standing toe to toe when her lips met mine. There was an urgency now, and the anxiety I felt gave way to passion. Her hand slipped inside my blouse and cupped my breast, making me let out my breath and sigh.

"Does that answer your questions?" she asked, her face still inches from mine, the smell of alcohol and chocolate on her breath.

"Yes," I peeped.

"Good, because you're beautiful and I want you." Her eyes sparkled when she said it.

"Why don't I show you what I like and then you can do the same to me? Don't obsess over this. Just let it happen, OK?"

I nodded.

She kicked off her heels, and I did likewise, and we padded across the hardwood floor in our bare feet to the bed. She unzipped my skirt. I let it drop to the floor and I stepped out of it.

"Sit," she said.

I watched as she unbuttoned her blouse and undid the front clasp on her bra. Her milky white breasts, dotted with freckles were exposed now, perfect orbs with pinkish areola and nipples. She knelt on the floor, still fully clothed, and slipped her thumbs under the waistband of my panties. I lifted up my hips and she slid them down my legs, slowly, planting kisses that followed the descent of my panties, on the inside of my thighs, my knees, my calves, and finally my feet.

Each kiss created a spark, and when my panties were finally off my legs were already trembling. My breathing became more ragged as the kisses went up my leg. I laid back on the bed, closing my eyes, and letting her have her way with me.

"I'm going to unbutton your blouse. Then I want you to help me take off your bra," she said out of the blackness. I lifted my torso off the bed to allow her to remove my blouse and bra.

"There," she said. "You have nothing to be ashamed of Jamie. Your breasts are beautiful, and now I want a taste."

I felt a rush of heat at her compliment. The heat intensified when she took my right nipple in her mouth, teasing it with her teeth and her tongue. I let out a long contented sigh. This was nothing like the few clumsy encounters I'd had with men.

The tip of her tongue left a wet trail from the underside of my breast to my nipple, tracing around it until goosebumps popped up on my arms. I could feel that my panties had become sopping wet.

"Gretchen. This is sweet ... agony."

"It is, my love." She clasped the other nipple between her teeth, lightly biting down and sending a shiver up my spine. "It's what turns sex into making love."

She took my hand and placed it on the gusset of her panties. She too had soaked through her panties.

"See what you've done to me?"

I had. She wanted me as much.

"It's the want ... the burning want ... that makes sex special."

I kept my eyes tightly shut and saw explosions of light as she gently nibbled on one nipple, then the other. Her fingertips traced the underside of my breast, sending shivers down my spine. The teasing continued as she sucked on my right nipple and her hand tip toed down my tummy to the source of a white hot heat between my legs.

"Has anyone played with your ass before?" she asked. My eyes snapped open.

"No ... never," I replied, the tone of my answer telling her I wasn't eager for it.

"It's OK. I won't do anything without your permission. I want to show you one way to tell you're pleasing a woman. With a man, it's easy ... it's all about the penis. I'm going to put my finger on your anus. I won't penetrate you, OK?"

I nodded, lifting my head off the bed and looking at her.

She wet her index finger and touched my asshole. My asscheeks clenched.

"That's good," she said. "It's natural to react that way. Now I'm going to leave my finger there until you relax, OK?"

"Yes," I answered. It was a new sensation, but she didn't move her finger so in a few moments I relaxed and my bottom went flat against the bed.

"Close your eyes." I did.

"Now I'm going to lick your nipple and touch your clit."

Her mouth captured my nipple first, her tongue swirling around it. My head started to rock back and forth.

"Yes," I moaned, as the wet heat of her mouth sent sparkles of light across my closed eyelids.

Then her fingers pulled apart my vaginal lips and, wet and slick with my juices, skimmed across the hardened nub. My asshole clenched around her fingertip as a lightening bolt of pleasure ripped through me.

"That's a good girl," she said. "See the way your ass is telling me that you like this?"

"I do."

"Now I'm going to get you close, but try not to cum. My finger is going to go inside you, but just a little."

"OK."

She captured a nipple in her mouth, and with her finger wiggling its way inside me, pushing against the clenched muscle, her thumb began slow circles around my clit.

I let out a long sigh as I felt the slow boil that would lead to a head splitting orgasm.

Her finger worked its way inside me, pushing against the smooth walls, opening my virgin asshole to her ministrations. I could feel her fingertip creating pressure on the thin wall between my pussy and ass, and the sensation of my pussy being massaged from the other side of the wall made me delirious with pleasure.

"OK God, Gretchen ... it's too much ... I can't stop it," I warned her, as I sensed the inevitable spiral to where my body was not mine to control.

She eased the pressure inside me, and I slowly came down.

As soon as I relaxed, her finger pushed further inside me, and again the pressure from her fingertip started the spiral again. She stopped when she sensed I was going to tip over the edge.

"Gretchen ... you're killing me," I told her. She had worked me into a sexual frenzy.

"All in good time ...".

Her mouth left my nipples, and kisses went lower until her head was between my legs. With her finger was firmly ensconced in my ass, she blew puffs of air over my clit, causing me to pant continuously.

"Let go my love ... you can let go now," she said. Then she sucked my clit in her mouth, pulling on it and exposing it to a lashing from her tongue. My asshole was furiously clenching and unclenching as her finger wiggled inside me, rubbing against the tender wall and bringing me higher and higher until blackness descended, and I was in free fall, my hips thrusting upwards and then slamming down on her finger.

"Aaaieeee ..." I started to scream, until her hand covered my mouth. My entire body was pulsing. There was a tingling sensation in my toes. The ocean was roaring in my ears.

"We don't want to tell everyone in the Inn what we're doing, do we?" I heard her whisper.

She lifted her hand and I fought to take a real breath. I felt hot ... blazing hot, with sweat breaking out on my forehead. It was far beyond anything I could have imagined or expected. I was thoroughly and completely satisfied and emotionally spent. I was in love.

* * *

We laid on the bed, my leg resting on hers. She was being patient. She had given me her first lesson in lovemaking and was waiting to see what I'd learned. My fingertip ran along her cheekbone and then captured a lock of her hair.

"Your turn," I said, trying to catch a second wind.

I started with the kissing. I didn't need any instruction there, and took a long time, enjoying the languorous pace, as my batteries recharged and my affection for Gretchen blossomed. She was content to let me lead, and didn't rush me. My hand tentatively traced down her neck to the curve where it meets the shoulder. There was tension there, and I kneaded the hardened muscle until it relaxed.

"Ummm ..." muttered Gretchen at the impromptu massage.

My hand followed the curve of her breast, running over a freckled landscape to her erect nipple. I pushed her bra and blouse open and kneaded the soft tissue while using two fingers to roll the nipple between them.

"Yesssss," she hissed, encouraging me further.

I dipped my head to capture her nipple in my mouth while I used my other hand to gently twist the untended nipple. Her hips rocked on the bed as I parked there, licking, sucking and pinching her nipples until her hand tried to guide mine into the cauldron of wet heat between her legs.

"Lay on your side," I asked her. I thought this position would allow me access to a treasure now coveted by me. She did, exposing those globes of pale white skin. The beauty of a reclining female has been oft chronicled in the great museums of the world, but before me was a perfect embodiment of that beauty in the flesh.

Taking her lesson to heart, I wet my index finger and probed the deep valley between her ass cheeks, finding her wrinkled hole. I sucked hard on her nipple and felt her asshole wink, squeezing the tip of my finger. The reaction sent a charge through me as well. I worked her back channel, feeling the tight muscle yield slightly to allow my finger in about an inch.

Oh, the chill it gave me to finger her bottom, to have her emit a low animal-like moan that made the small hairs on my arms stand on end. It felt so dirty to know her in this intimate way, but she showed me what she liked, and now I understood why she was so interested in my ass. I kept my finger in there, deeper, deeper into that back channel that was never an erogenous zone for me.

I forced my hand between her legs and touched the matted fur of her pussy. I found and parted the slippery folds of her pussy, thick with honey. Her moans became louder when my finger found the hood covering her clit, pressing hard against the sheath that protected the center of her pleasure. Her anal ring snapped tight, and the sawing of my fingers against her clit forced a gasp out of her mouth and multiple contractions of her anus.

I felt a sudden compulsion to lick her nether hole. My tongue went to the junction of her asshole and my finger, wedging in the small gape, feeling its way to the striated muscles, pulsing with life, with both of us feeling a new set of pleasurable sensations. I worked my tongue in further, using my hand to part her cheeks. She was babbling something, but I didn't care what it was. Her moans were all I wanted to hear.

"Oh God!" she gasped when I placed my tongue next to my finger, forcing my tongue in next to my finger, both sharing the snug fit of her asshole. Nerve endings were triggering tiny muscle spasms in her ass as my finger travelled deeper. The thick muscle yielded, and through the inner wall I could feel the sponge-like texture of her pussy. Her moans were lower by an octave and louder. Her hips started bucking wildly against my finger, forcing it deeper in her ass until I was in to the webbing of my hand. The inside of her was so wet, slick with juice as if I was inside her pussy. My fingertip crooked upward, and I could feel micro-muscle spasms firing randomly deep within her ass. Her hips lifted wholly off the bed.