Starting Over Ch. 06

"Was he the best?"

"Doug? Nah. Anyhow that question doesn't have an answer. Fucking is like a great wine. It's situational. How great a fuck is depends on who you are doing with, and why, and where, and... shit even how long it's been since the last time you got laid. Just like a wine that seems extra good with the right people or the right meal. So no, Dave. There are great fucks, but never the best fuck. Just great ones. Like we just had."

"Thank you mam," I said toasting her with the last of the wine in my glass.

"There was one thing he couldn't beat," I said. "Cancer."

"Yes."

"Another thing," I said. "I don't think Britt is blind to what Doug was anymore. It has taken her three years, but I think she understands exactly what you just told me about Doug and more. There is still pain on her part that she didn't see it before he died, but I think she understands now."

"Let's not start analyzing Britt," Bianca said. We would need another bottle of wine for that. I will tell you that the four of us think Britt is much better off with you."

"Better off than living with Doug isn't a very high bar."

"No that's not what I mean. That much is obvious. But we think she is better off living with you than being alone."

"Oh. Well, I'm better off living with Britt or next door to her than I was living alone."

"Good. Why don't you ask her to move in."

"I'm thinking about it, but it might work better if it's her idea."

"Ha. You two sound like a couple who want to have sex but are both afraid to ask."

She finished the wine in her glass and said, "We've got a little more time. Let's walk down and take a look at the vineyard."

We walked naked, but for our shoes, across the meadow and down to the vineyard. As we walked she pointed out where the various buildings and work areas of the commune had been: goats here; chickens there; a shed for processing marijuana; a winery among these ruins; and so on.

"How did it burn," I asked.

A lightning started fire came over the hill from Sonoma. Fires are odd. They burn in a mosaic pattern. Torching some places and leaving others. This one got everything here in the meadow and somehow skipped over the vineyard. The vines I'm going to show you are almost 75 years old. The yield is pitiful. Even in a good year we barely get a couple of tons per acre. And it's hard and expensive to farm given the way it sets on the terraces. That is probably why Marcus' uncle abandoned it. But the grapes are magnificent. Louis took some samples over to Davis and had the DNA run, but it's no clone anyone knows of, just its own special clone. We make a little wine for ourselves in the shed there, but we sell most of the grapes. There are a few producers from the more prestigious districts down below that like to use just a bit of juice from our grapes to give more strength to their wines. So they pay up and it makes the farming profitable.

We wandered through the first couple of rows and tasted a few of the grapes which were going to be harvested the following week. They were sweet and the flavor was intense. "Yes, these are ready," she said.

I was following her as we walked back up to the truck, just staring at the roll of her broad ass, the ass I had been fucking with such joy a mere half an hour ago. By the time we got to the truck my cock was half engorged and Bianca insisted on sucking it until it was hard. Then I lay on my back and she rode me to yet another climax for each of us. I reveled in watching her long hair and her big tits swinging about as she used her legs to thrust my shaft into her again and again.

Finally finished she said, "It's four o'clock. Let's get our clothes on and go back to Napa."

"I was just getting used to this nudity stuff."

"Have to get dressed to drive through St. Helena. There are a lot of conservative old biddies there who would disapprove. We can have "naked pizza on Saturday night" when we get home though."

I don't think I have what it takes. For the sex that is. That was my fourth climax today. That's more than I did in a month during my marriage," I said.

"We have Viagra."

"Oh."

.....

When we got back to Napa we found a naked Gina and Britt asleep in bed where they had spent the afternoon engaged in intense lesbian sex. The kitchen was still a mess, although the pasta had been finished and hung on a rack to dry. Bianca was about to give the two girls hell, but I convinced her to help me clean up the kitchen. Before we finished Marcus and Louie showed up looking totally bushed from having spent the afternoon clearing brush from the parcel of land behind the house to reduce fire risk. All they wanted was beer and a shower. When Gina and Britt appeared it was clear that they had exhausted themselves sexually. No one in the house had the energy to repeat the prior night's orgy.

Ultimately we all had pizza that night augmented with some of their Napa garage wine and a bit of toking on one of their good custom marijuana blends, but about the only thing sexual that happened was that Gina supplemented the pizza dude's tip by flashing her tits at him.

In the morning Bianca and Gina went off early to church. They liked to attend a service at a little Catholic church up the valley in Rutherford. The guys were sleeping in, so Britt and I got dressed, said our good-byes to Gina and Bianca, letting the guys sleep in, and headed back to Berkeley, remembering to pack the two cases of their Napa garage wine and the supply of our favorite of their custom marijuana blends that they insisted we take back to Berkeley as a care package to tide us over until our next visit.

I drove and Britt was quiet. When we got back to Berkeley I fixed a fine herb omelet for a brunch. As we sat with our coffee, Britt finally spoke up.

"So," she asked. "How do you like my friends from The Hill?"

"That was quite a weekend," I responded. "I never knew I could have that much sex in two days. Is that what your weekends were like when you spent time at the The Hill, while you were in med-school and your psych residency?"

She smiled. "Yeah pretty much." Shaking her head, she said, "Wow, I couldn't live like that full time anymore."

I laughed, "Hardly."

"But you need to understand they don't either. This weekend was a special event to welcome me back from my three years of celibacy."

"I felt like it was a bit of an audition for me," I said.

"It was. And you passed. Gina gave me a long sales pitch about how I should move in with you."

I smiled. "Bianca did the same for me, once she decided I could fuck. I think she had her doubts about my sexually barren marriage to Ellen."

Britt laughed. "Gina had the same doubts but your performance on Friday night definitely convinced her not to be concerned."

We were silent for a long while staring at each other across the table. I took a deep breath and ventured into a risk I never thought I would take after Ellen's death. "You know," I said. "They might be right."

"Right?" There was a pause. "Oh about us moving in together?" She was silent again. "You know I was thinking about that as we drove down from Napa."

"And?" I asked.

"I think we maybe should try it," she said. "We kinda been living together here for a few weeks already."

I smiled. "You do seem to keep a lot of clothing here."

She blushed a little. "I like having you to sleep next too."

"Me too. Not that the clothing matters much since we always sleep naked."

Britt laughed. She took a sip of her coffee. "Actually there's another good reason. I want to get Freya to move out of that dump she is living in down on San Pablo. That's not a good neighborhood. I think she will do it if I let her live in my house and use the master bedroom as a studio. She likes the north light it gets. But if I did that, I would need someplace else to sleep."

"I think the crew in Napa had something more formal in mind than just vacating your bedroom," I said. "And I like their idea." Let's move all your stuff over here, except the furniture. Freya is going to need that. You can change your address and really live here."

"Okay, but not marriage though," she said. "I'm not ready for that. The last one was too traumatic."

"Not marriage," I agreed. "I'm not ready for that either. What I like is having someone to sleep next to at night; someone to wake up next to; someone to cook for; someone to share the day's events with; someone... "

"Yeah and someone to screw," she said laughing. "You've become such a horndog. I think I've created a monster."

"Oh is that so. And I thought I had so much more to learn from you."

"Hmmm. You do, and I think we could start on that right now. Let's go upstairs and get naked to celebrate our new living arrangements."

So we did. It was a delicious Sunday afternoon in bed with my beautiful new partner.

At the ripe old age of 48, life had started over for both of us.