The Ritual Decantation

My first post and hopefully just a 'taste' of things to come.

The Ritual Decantation

___________________

He carefully poured her a glass of the rather expensive Valpolicella. The wine was deep red and spicy, the use of partially dried grapes intensifying it's flavour. He was wearing just a pair of black satin boxer shorts, his smooth firm chest glistening slightly in the heat as the cooling flow of air from ceiling fan played with his hair.

She emerged from the bathroom wearing black strappy heels, hold-up stockings and a transparent black chiffon negligee that clung and flowed around her body imbuing a certain statuesque quality upon her. He proffered the glass as she walked slowly towards him across the black tiled floor, her heels clicking against the background of Rachmaninov, the warm smile on her face and the brightness in her eyes revealing her joy and anticipation. The gentle currents of air from the fan sent ripples through the sheer material making her skin seem alive.

She took the glass with one hand, while with the other she reached down and cupped his aching balls in her palm, holding them for a while before softly squeezing and pulling her hand back slowly along his throbbing manhood, the smooth black satin feeling so good against her finger tips. She knelt down slowly and ran her lips along the prominent outline in the stretched material, dampening it with her tongue and kissing the head. She carefully eased down his shorts, letting his erection spring free and rub against her cheeks. He sighed at the relief of the cool air on its burning skin and then grunted at the intensity of the sensation as her finger tip removed a glistening drop from the shiny purple head.

As he looked down, she looked him in the eyes and, raising her hand, brought the nectar to her mouth, her eyes glowing as she carefully coated it on her lips, making them shine. She smiled at him as her mouth drew closer and finally engulfed his almost painful erection, sucking gently and tormenting it with her tongue as she let him push it slowly into her mouth. She let him savour the oral pleasures, but when he began to excitedly push towards her throat, she placed a hand on his stomach and slowly stood, collecting her wine glass as she rose. She leant forward and kissed him, a slow sweet merging of lips that let them share his taste. Satisfied, she stepped back, and put her glass to her lips, taking a sip before wiping them in a seductive circular motion with her tongue.

"Stand still." She ordered, quietly but firmly, giving him the glass. "Place the glass to your lips and just let the wine flow very slowly, over your chin and down your body."

He obediently took the glass and raised it. A drop ran slowly from his bottom lip, over his chin and down his neck. It felt strange and unnatural and he wanted to wipe it away, but she leant forward and licked at some of the drops of red liquid as it hastened its way towards his chest. She took each of his nipples in her mouth in turn and nursed them gently before moving her tongue between them to stem the red tide in the valley that parted his hairless, muscular upper torso. She lapped hungrily as the flow increased, moving down his body to keep up with the trail.

It flowed down his taught stomach, some pooling in his button, and then carrying onward. She followed the slow red cascade down past his hips, her tongue and lips tormenting his skin as they approached their target. Squatting between his legs, she let drops of the velvet liquid drip from his balls into her eager mouth, scooping it onto her tongue before smearing it along his length. Gradually the flow slowed and, as it did, her lips spent longer running up and down his manhood, her tongue becoming more energetic in its lapping, flicking and teasing. She wrapped her hand around the well lubricated base and began to squeeze and twist it as her mouth continued its delightful torment of soft kisses on the tip.

He groaned with relief as he felt her push her lips across his head and take him into her waiting mouth. Her tongue was swirling around in short quick motions making every nerve ending send sharp pulses of pleasure through his body. She took him deeper, sucking gently, her lips moving backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards, backwards and forwards. He gulped the last drops of wine into his thirsty mouth and then grunted and lurched as he could contain himself no more. She grabbed his thighs and took his gift, its sweet saltiness the perfect compliment to the spiciness of the wine.

She pulled herself up and held his shoulders while looking into his eyes. She made sure he watched as she played with his seed in her open mouth before swallowing it down. Crossing her arms and taking hold of the bottom of her negligee she pulled it up and lifted it over her head, savouring the thrill as it brushed against her engorged nipples, the static crackling slightly as she tugged it free from her hair. "No hands!" She told him, pushing him to his knees in front of her and pressing his face against the flimsy lace of her thong.

He knew what he had to do, but the beautiful warm scent emanating from her was almost too much and he found it hard to concentrate. Slowly he pulled at the strings of her thong using just his teeth, taking every opportunity to stop and inhale as he circled her body. Eventually he had worked it free of her hips and she pulled her legs together slightly and the lacy nothingness of the thong drifted to the floor like gossamer. He looked up at her in desperation as she flicked the thong across the room and stood towering above him on her heels.

She pulled his head so that his chin was resting on her thighs and his mouth was ready. His eyes still obediently looked into hers as she placed his wine glass just under her breasts and began to send a steady stream down towards him. He almost began purring like a cat as he began to drink from her folds, his lips and tongue exploring her and sending her crazy the way only he could. She felt a wave of pleasure swelling within her and took the glass to her mouth, draining the final drops.

He knew what this meant and began to flick his tongue vigorously against her clitoris and, taking his finger, slipped it inside her, pressing out gently as if to push her further into his mouth while rubbing very slowly. He felt her knees weakening as she pushed herself against him, and then she uttered a tiny shriek as her orgasm overwhelmed her and she shook while it rippled through her being.

She walked back slowly and unsteadily, falling backwards onto the bed, spreading her legs and pulling herself back, in need of him inside her, looking for her second coming. He was ready! The taste of her, the taste of the wine and the sight of her beauty before him had sent blood flooding to his groin and he was a hard as the rock on which her new wave was about to crash so spectacularly.

He entered her intent only on delivering his own satisfaction, but that was the very thing she craved, the thing she needed: to know that he wanted her and needed her that much. Raised up on his arms he penetrated her as deeply as he could. She could feel the heat radiating from his chest as he began to pound her, gaining speed and establishing a perfect rhythm. There was nothing as liberating as a full blown vaginal orgasm, and only the most desperate of men could make that happen, at least for her.

She knew how to direct him, how to make him perform to his one woman audience. It was like having the controller in a game. The right little moan, a subtle sigh, a slight shriek of exhilaration. All had the desired effect. Then, when she could no longer hold back the waves of pleasure that were waiting to break, she tensed her muscles as if to try to squeeze him out while at the same time lifting her body to meet each urgent thrust . She felt the heat within her rise as he erupted with a Neanderthal grunt while wave after wave of the deepest and most blissful feelings rushed through her as she climaxed uncontrollably, wriggling in ecstasy as his hot, tired body pinned her to the bed as he collapsed, exhausted.

He rolled off and they lay next to each other slowly recovering. He leant over and kissed her on the lips. "What wine will you be choosing for next weekend?" He asked. It was her choice and she had already decided what it was going to be. "I fancy something sweet and eastern European like you so I'm thinking Hungarian Muscat."

"Jól hangzik!"