The Tasting (MF, oral, cons.)


     Tom didn't particularly want to go to the
wine tasting.

     He didn't particularly like wine.

     Nor, in all honesty, did he particularly like
the host of the event.  Unfortunately, said host
was also his girlfriend's boss, which explained
why he had little choice in the matter.

     The invitation had been issued a few weeks
before--Jenny's boss, John, was hosting a charity
wine tasting at his Lake Forest estate, and the
pleasure of their company was requested.  A few
words from Tom to Jenny on just how pleasant
John's company was had brought him an icy rebuke
and a few nights of no loving.  Though that last
bit wasn't so odd these days; while their romance
had begun with a great deal of fiery passion, too
often lately it seemed they were just going
through the motions while they drifted apart,
neither knowing how to stop--nor caring enough to
stop--the slow but steady ebb of their feelings
for each other.  Of late, most of the passion in
their relationship was spent on arguing with each
other, sometimes over the most trivial of matters,
rather than on sex.  While their screams had once
been those of ecstasy, as Tom pierced Jenny body
and soul, these days they were generally of a
different nature.

     Jenny was a vice president of marketing for a
large hotel chain, of which John was president. 
As Jenny had complained to Tom on occasion, if you
were a woman at a large corporation, you had to be
twice as good to get half as far as a man, and she
was determined to get to the top.  John, however,
had been impressed with her intelligence and
perseverance and she had been on a fast track.  If
Tom thought, from time to time, that Jenny's good
looks didn't hurt her any when it came to John's
interest in her professionally, he kept those
thoughts to himself.  He didn't have a death wish,
and there was no denying that when it came to
hotel marketing, Jenny could ably strut her stuff.

     Though he had nothing concrete on which to
base his dislike of John, Tom was generally a good
judge of character--at least when it came to men--
and his opinion of John was far from flattering. 
He viewed the man as a user, a guy who saw his
subordinates as tools--fine tools, expensive
tools, tools to be taken care of, to be sure, but
nonetheless, just tools, free to be discarded for
other tools if the need arose.  Not surprisingly,
since John had taken an interest in her and more
or less championed her way up the corporate
ladder, Jenny took a slightly different view of
him--sure, he could be tough, but business was
business, and you didn't make money or get where
John had gotten--where Jenny wished to go--if you
were a wimp.  As Jenny had essentially told Tom
from time to time while arguing with him, Tom was
a bright guy, but he was just a construction
worker; he didn't really understand all the ins
and outs of big business and corporate politics.

     When Tom and Jenny had first started dating,
she hadn't complained about his job--or the solid
physique it had given him.  These days...

     Tom might have been a blue collar guy, and
maybe he didn't have his finger on the pulse of
the corporate world, but he did know one thing--he
was stuck going to the wine tasting.

* * * * *

     "Good to see you again, John," Tom lied, as
he shook the man's hand.

     "And always good to see you too, Tom,"
replied John, returning the firm grasp.  "Glad you
could make it."

     In his early fifties, of average height with
hair starting to turn gray, John hardly cut an
impressive figure from purely a physical
standpoint, but Tom couldn't deny that there was
some indefinable quality about the man--people
noticed him; when he spoke, they listened.  Sort
of like that investment guy in those old
commercials on television, he thought wryly to
himself.  John had a forceful personality and over
the years, had somehow managed to cultivate it,
enhance it and, strange as it sounded, practically
exude it, until the aura of it cloaked him and
lent him a stature difficult to ignore.  As Jenny
was fond of retorting whenever Tom said anything
negative about her boss, Tom was just jealous that
he didn't possess the same magnetism.

     Jenny was pretty magnetic herself.  Though
the dress code for the occasion was informal,
Jenny looked stunning as always.  Her brunette
waves were freshly permed, cascading over her
shoulders and the silk blouse she was wearing. 
The tight material clung to her form, highlighting
the firm fullness of her breasts.  A short skirt
revealed tanned, muscular calves and thighs,
wrapped around her taut little ass.  When Jenny
got dolled up like this, Tom had to admit that on
that front at least, he was a lucky guy.  When
they weren't fighting, Jenny had an awesome body
and she knew how to use it.

     Tom exchanged pleasantries for a few moments
with John and the circle of hotel executives
gathered around him.  Jenny was in her element,
schmoozing with her fellow execs.  As quickly and
politely as he could, Tom excused himself from the
little group, as always feeling a twinge of
disappointment that Jenny barely acknowledged his
leaving--nor cared.  However, from past
experience, he could almost calculate to the
minute when Ernie, the head of development, would
try to impress others in the crowd with his
knowledge of wine.  "This one offers a fresh,
slightly fruity nose, with very subtle hints of
strawberry and rose petal..."  If Tom heard that
pretentious snob break into his wine routine one
more time, he thought he might teach Ernie that
noses could also be broken, swollen and bloody,
not just fresh and slightly fruity.  None of which
would, unfortunately, be good for Jenny's career--
though it would provide Tom with some small
measure of personal satisfaction.

     Tom wandered over to pick up a glass of the
event's second wine selection, fluting strains of
the classical music being played by the musicians
set up on the lower rear balcony of the mansion
providing soothing background noise.  Though there
were over a dozen wines set up on the outdoor bar
area, carefully selected to lead the taster on a
controlled journey through various of the
different types of wines, Tom knew he'd never make
it past the third one.

     "Wonder if Jenny'd have a fit if I asked for
a beer?" he wondered to himself as he walked
around the grounds of John's palatial estate. 
Though John made more than a decent buck at his
job, he had made most of his fortune the old
fashioned way--he inherited it.  His father had
founded the hotel chain, and while the family no
longer owned the chain outright, Jenny had told
Tom from time to time that John's interest was
worth in excess of one hundred million dollars. 
His mansion and its grounds were all one would
expect from such excessive wealth.  Immaculate
lawns stretched seemingly forever, their expanse
broken occasionally by carefully trimmed bushes
and trees, by gardens featuring a dizzying array
of flowers in bloom.  Their scent wafted through
the air as he walked towards a white gazebo,
laying on the shores of a small pond on the
estate.

     Idly sipping his wine, Tom slumped down on
the grass, back against the small structure,
cutting off his view and the noise of the party. 
"Much better," he thought to himself.  Casting
about, he unearthed a few small pebbles which be
began to toss desultorily into the tranquil
waters, watching the small splashes as they
struck, the ripples spreading across the clear
surface of the pond.  Time passed in silence as he
sat there, watching the waters, the trees across
the way swaying slightly in the soft breeze, the
birds soaring in the bright blue sky.

     "Hi there," came a voice to his side,
startling Tom out of his calm reverie.  Flustered,
he glanced up...and saw her.  Later, Tom would
rail in frustration that he was never afterwards
able to properly express the view that met his
eyes in those first few seconds.  Maybe it was the
sun in the sky behind her, blinding his sight with
its brilliance for just a flash, distorting his
vision.  Maybe it was due to his being startled,
or the wine, though he hadn't had that much to
drink.  Whatever the cause, he looked up and
beheld a shimmering vision, a woman clad in a
summer dress, face momentarily obscured, appearing
for a brief instant like a sun goddess out of some
ancient myth, golden rays of illumination seeming
to surround her unearthly form.  Mouth agape, Tom
stared mesmerized, entranced by the apparition
before him.

     "Hello?" the woman spoke again and the
illusion was shattered.

     "Uh, hi," Tom managed to stammer in greeting,
struggling to his feet.

     "Sorry to have startled you," the woman
laughed.  "I didn't realize you were so
engrossed."

     The spell broken, Tom could see as she
approached that she was no unearthly goddess but a
real woman, very real and very woman.  Her summer
dress clung to the upper part of her body,
emphasizing the lush swell of her breasts, while
its hem swirled beneath her knees, playing peek-a-
boo with her bare feet.  Long black hair flowed in
luxurious tresses, billowing over her shoulders
and down her back.  Clear brown eyes sparkled at
him, while beneath a pert nose reposed a pair of
full, red lips, upturned in a slight smile that
seemed to hint of life's exquisite mysteries.

     "No problem," Tom managed to get out without
stammering.  "Hey--I've seen you before!"

     Having reached the gazebo, the woman leaned
against it, idly twirling a finger around the lip
of her wine glass.  "Yes, though we've never met,"
she agreed.  "I saw you wander over here a few
minutes ago and wondered if it was you."

     Though it was true that they'd never met, Tom
_had_ seen her, many times before.  Several months
ago, while riding the train downtown to work, this
woman had begun to sit across from him, on the
upper level of the train.  She was a knockout, and
Tom had often snatched furtive glimpses of her
over his book.  From the way that she smiled at
him occasionally when their eyes met, Tom had felt
that his secret attentions had not gone unnoticed,
and that more direct contact would not be
unwelcome...but that was back when things with
Jenny were still firing great on all cylinders. 
And so all he had done was stare at her from time
to time--and then as quickly as she had appeared,
she was gone.  Every day for a few weeks she had
sat across from him, then one day she wasn't
there.  The next day when Tom got on the train,
and every day that next week, he hoped she would
appear when they reached the stop where she
boarded, but he never saw her again.  He had
wondered for awhile what had become of her, before
she had slowly sunk out of his consciousness.  But
that was no longer the case!

     "I'm Tom," he offered, holding out his hand.

     "Kim," she replied, shaking his hand in a
firm grasp.  "It's nice to finally meet you after
seeing you on the train all that time."

     "Yeah," Tom said.  "I'm a little surprised
you remember seeing me.  I wondered what happened
to you."

     "I was just in town for a few weeks.  I live
in L.A.  I'm a consultant, and I was just in town
for a little while working on a job."

     "Oh, are you back now for another job?"

     "Just for a few days--some follow-up on the
old one.  Then it's back to the coast.  What's
your story?"

     "I'm in construction," Tom replied.  "From
the laborer side of things."

     "Oh.  How do you know John then?" she asked
with a smile.  "I thought he didn't know anyone
who didn't live in a suit and a tie."

     Tom laughed.  "Yeah, not too many I suppose. 
No, my girlfriend is one of his minions.  So here
I am.  How about you--where do you know John
from?"

     "He's my cousin."

     Tom tried hard not to choke on his drink as
he was swallowing.  "His cousin?"

     "Yeah...but don't hold it against me," Kim
laughed.  "I'm from the poor side of the family;
unfortunately, my side decided not to go along
with John's father when he started the hotels. 
You win some, you lose some."

     "That's too bad," Tom responded.  "But don't
worry--I wouldn't hold your being related to John
against you.  Besides, John's an alright guy."

     "You're a terrible liar," she replied,
sipping her wine.  "I can see it in your face when
I say his name, hear it in your voice when you say
it.  You don't think much of John, do you?"

     "Well...uh, no, John's OK..."

     "Don't lie to me!" Kim laughed.  "That's
alright, I've known him all my life and there's no
question about it, John can be a bit of a prick!"

     "Well, if you put it that way..." Tom laughed
with her.

     Leaning against the gazebo, gazing out over
the water, they talked for a few more moments
before Kim said, "Let's take a walk.  I'd like to
stretch my legs a little."

     Wandering over the lawn, the two chatted. 
Tom found it very easy to open up to this
vivacious, beautiful creature beside him, telling
her of his boyhood in Skokie, of the various
projects he had worked on, of him and Jenny. 
Though he didn't express the thoughts, as Tom
spoke with Kim about his girlfriend, the
realization came to him that they would be over
soon, that they were each too different and too
unwilling to change for the other, even if they
were asked.  It was no one's fault, really, it was
just one of those things that didn't work out. 
For her part, Kim offered no advice, just listened
to him, asking questions now and then, in turn
talking about her job and family.  Eventually,
their glasses empty, they strolled back to the
party.

     Tom grabbed two glasses of the next wine on
the program, handed one to Kim.  She swirled it in
the glass for a moment like a connoisseur,
inhaled, sipped and swirled it in her mouth. 
Swallowing, she rendered her verdict.

     "It's an audacious little wine," she opined
with mock solemnity.  "It kind of jumps up and
slaps you in the face!"  Her pink tongue crept out
and slowly licked a few drops of wine from her
lips.

     Tom laughed.  He could think of plenty of
things to do with that pretty face, but slapping
was definitely not one of them!

     Exchanging short pleasantries with others at
the bar, Kim offered to take Tom on a tour of the
mansion.

     "Sure," he replied, "though I've seen it
before...at least parts of it."

     "Not the way I'll show it to you!" Kim
promised, her clear eyes sparkling, grabbing his
arm and linking hers with it.

     Sauntering towards the mansion, talking of
this and that, they passed near the small cluster
that had formed around John.  Jenny was still
there, vivaciously chatting.  As they went by, Tom
waved at her; she flashed him a quick smile, then
went back to talking with the group.  Considering
that she was normally pretty jealous, Tom viewed
her reaction as symptomatic of their problems.

     As they walked up the short flight of steps
leading to the rear balcony, Tom said, "I'm glad
you remembered me from the train, though I'm a
little surprised."

     "Well, I _knew_ you would remember me," Kim
smiled.  "After all, sitting where you were, you
could see up my skirt!"

     Tom felt an invisible hand choking his
throat, reaching in and throttling him.  He _had_
been able to see up her skirt on occasion on the
train, but was mortified to learn that she knew he
had done it.  He rapidly sputtered denials which
sounded lame even to his ears.

     "No, it's OK," she laughed, as he choked out
yet another sentence saying she was mistaken.  "I
knew about it--hell, I let you!"

     Tom quickly gulped some wine in confusion. 
It wasn't every day he was walking with a
beautiful woman, and she admitted that not only
did she know he had looked up her skirt, but that
she had cooperated!

     "I'm sorry," she smiled, clearly delighting
in the crimson flush suffusing his face, his
stuttering attempts at speech.  She squeezed his
arm.  "It was kind of naughty of me but, I
thought, what's the harm?  It was fun--I hadn't
flashed anyone in a while!  I didn't mean to
embarrass you!"

     They had now entered the mansion, walking in
through the open set of doors leading into the
library.  Casting wildly about for some way to
change the topic, certain that if they stayed on
this track he'd make an absolute fool of himself,
Tom stabbed a finger in the direction of a
portrait of a man hanging above the fireplace
mantle.  "Who's that?" he managed to ask, though
he already knew the answer from a prior visit.

     Kim allowed herself to be sidetracked.  "Ah. 
That would be John's father, provider of much of
what you see around you.  As good a place as any,
I suppose, to begin our little tour."

     Kim led him leisurely through the first floor
of the mansion, pointing out various items of
interest.  As they walked, her arm linked in his,
her hip occasionally brushed against him, sending
little jolts of electricity through his body.  Tom
was acutely aware of her presence, of her warmth
and vitality.  Outside it had been overwhelmed by
the aroma of the flowers; inside, Kim's perfume,
the scent of her hair, filled his senses.  Tom was
a little worried that the growing bulge in his
pants would betray him, but if she noticed, Kim
was silent.

     As they passed by a bathroom, Kim turned to
him.  "Here, hold this," she said, unlinking her
arm and handing him her wine glass.  "I have to go
tinkle," she explained, somewhat unnecessarily.

     The door closing behind her, Tom walked a
short way down the panelled hall and sat down on
an ottoman.  His feelings were a jumbled mess,
though his hormones were clearly sending a unified
signal.  Tom had never been good at judging women-
-particularly ones he didn't know well--and it was
possible he was misreading Kim's flirtation with
him, but he didn't think it was likely.  He was
pretty certain that if he wanted to pursue a
romantic liaison with her, his advances would not
be unwelcomed.  If it hadn't been for Jenny, it
would have been a no-brainer.  As it was, thinking
of Jenny made him cringe slightly with guilt,
though he hadn't done anything yet.

     And yet, even with Jenny in the picture, he
was still intrigued.  Kim was gorgeous, sexy and
fun.  "Kind of like Jenny used to be with me," he
mused bitterly.  And as he was forced to admit to
himself more and more these days, his relationship
with Jenny was going nowhere.  Their candle had
burned brightly for awhile, but only a low flame
remained, destined to be snuffed in the near
future.  If he had run into Kim a month from now,
it might be that he and Jenny would have written
their final verse.  If he pushed it along...

     His thoughts were interrupted as Kim emerged
from the bathroom.  He rose to his feet, met her.

     "Here, I'll make you a trade," she said with
a smile.  She took her glass from his hand, and
with her other hand, pressed a wadded up piece of
cloth into his.  Tom looked down...and did a
double take.  Kim had just handed him her panties!

     Kim grinned mischievously, pleased at the
shocked look on his face.  "Would you be a doll
and carry them for me?" she inquired innocently. 
"I decided since I was barefoot, I might as well
just go that next step, but I don't have anywhere
to put them!"

     "Jesus!" Tom sputtered, half to himself.  He
hurriedly stuffed them into a pocket of his pants,
frantically looking around to see if anyone had
noticed the exchange.

     "Looks like you've got a bit of a bulge
there," Kim observed.  It was true--and not just
from the panties he had shoved into his pocket. 
She slowly licked some wine off the rim of her
glass, gazing deeply into his eyes.

     "I, uh..."

     "Well, are you enjoying the tour?" she
interrupted, clear eyes sparkling with humor...and
something else.

     "Uh, yeah," Tom said, flustered.  First she
had admitted she flashed him, now this!  Though
he'd had quite a bit of experience with the fairer
sex, he had never met anyone quite like Kim.

     "Well then, let's continue, shall we?" 
Linking her arm in his again, Kim started down the
hall, half-dragging Tom with her as he struggled
to sort everything out.

     "Have you ever been upstairs here?" Kim
asked.

     "No," admitted Tom, relieved for that the
conversation was normal for a moment.  "Just the
first floor."

     "Then come on."

     Reaching the winding staircase rising from
the grand entry hall, Kim and Tom ascended it, the
hard sound of his shoes on the wood contrasting
with the soft padding of her barefeet.  As they
climbed to the second floor, Kim pointed out some
of the design features of the room and the
stairwell, identified some of the paintings lining
the walls.  Tom responded politely, only half
paying attention, the rest of his focus on her
warmth next to him, her scent flooding his senses,
the purring sound of her voice.

     Walking down the carpeted hallways, various
different rooms went by in a blur.  The more he
and Kim talked, the more enamored of her he
became, the more Jenny was pushed to the back of
his mind.

     "And this is the game room," Kim announced,
as they reached the end of a short hallway. 
Opening the door, she motioned Tom inside.  He
entered and let out a low whistle.

     "Now this is a room I could get used to," he
approved, as she stepped into the room behind him
and closed the door.

     The room was huge.  Tapestries hung from the
walls, depicting various coats of arms.  A bar was
set along one wall, an impressive array of liquor
and a large refrigerator behind it.  From another
wall hung a dartboard, next to it a board for
keeping score.  "The way I throw," Tom thought
from himself, "they should pay me to keep me from
throwing darts.  I'd be more likely to punch
through a window than hit the board!"

     In another corner was a media center, not as
grand as the one Tom had seen in the room devoted
to that function downstairs, but still leaps and
bounds ahead of the set-up he had at home.  Tables
were arranged at various points around the room,
clearly intended for use when playing cards or
boardgames.

     The centerpiece of the room was a large pool
table, massive and ornate, its green felt surface
immaculate.  "Now this is one serious pool table,"
Tom remarked, as he walked around it, sliding his
hand along the edge.

     "Yeah," said Kim.  "John's a pretty intense
player--it's one of his few hobbies.  Care to
play?"

     "Sure," Tom said.

     "Then rack 'em up.  I'm going to get a little
more to drink.  You want anything?" Kim asked, as
she moved towards the bar.

     His throat suddenly dry as he watched Kim's
ass move fetchingly beneath her dress as she
walked, fully aware that she wasn't wearing any
panties, Tom briefly considered his options to
that question before going with, "I'll take a beer
if there's one in the fridge."

     As Tom finished racking the balls, Kim
returned with his beer, her own wine glass half
full.  Handing his drink to him, she offered, "You
can break."

     "Thanks...ah, much better," he sighed as he
took a healthy swig of the amber fluid.

     They each grabbed a cue.  Setting his drink
down, Tom walked around the table and placed the
cue ball down on the table.  Across the way, Kim
slowly sipped her wine, smiling enigmatically,
while sliding her hand up and down slightly on her
cue.

     Tom swallowed, throat suddenly parched again. 
Bending down, he broke.  Balls scattered to the
four winds.

     The game progressed; neither was terribly
good, but they weren't that bad either.  Then
again, Tom might have played better if his
thoughts were focused on the game, but Kim seemed
to take every opportunity to brush up against him
as they played--not that he minded.  On more than
one occasion her hip slid across the back of his
hand, reinforcing the knowledge that the flimsy
covering her ass had once had beneath her dress
now reposed in Tom's pocket.  For his own part,
Tom often endeavored to be across the table from
her when she shot--bending over to take a shot,
her dress fell down away from her chest, revealing
the upper slope of her full breasts.  Tom knew Kim
knew what he was doing, and he also knew that she
didn't mind--she just smiled sweetly at him and
shot.  On the other hand, Tom's pants now sported
a fairly good sized bulge (in addition to the one
from Kim's panties!), a situation which he knew
was not lost on his pretty opponent, whom he
caught gazing at it from time to time.  He also
didn't mind.  Nor was he thinking of Jenny anymore.

     They split the first two games, with Tom
downing a few more beers and Kim draining her wine
glass, but not bothering to refill it.  From time
to time, she would take a sip of Tom's beer. 
"Sort of like exchanging a secret kiss," thought
Tom, trying to remember what movie he had first
heard that line in, though he was pretty certain
that cinematically, it had applied to taking turns
smoking the same cigarette.

     It was mid-way through the third game when it
happened.  Tom was lining up a difficult bank
shot, when suddenly, he felt Kim pressing her
length against him from behind.  Even through
their clothes, her intense warmth was palpable;
for an instant, Tom thought he might combust.

     Her voice came, so close to him, breathing,
hot little breaths, in his ear, the smell of her
hair filling the air.  "You're looking at the
wrong pocket," she whispered, sliding one of her
hands across his chest.  The skin along the path
she traced burned with exquisite sensation.  "And
using the wrong cue."  Her other hand slid lower,
sliding across the front of his pants, caressing
the outline of his rapidly hardening penis.  He
gasped as he felt her hand move across him,
groaning as she scratched his testicles with her
fingernails through the material.

     Dropping the cue, he turned to take her in
his arms, was surprised with the intensity of her
response.  She pushed him up, tight against the
pool table, grabbing his head and pulling his lips
down on hers.  Her soft lips parted as they met,
the tongue he had seen flicking out to lick wine
from her glass now darting out, pressing against
his mouth, seeking entrance.  Her hands roamed
feverishly across his body, squeezing his ass
cheeks, sliding along his back, as she ground
herself into him.

     Head spinning, Tom crushed her to him,
thrilling in the erotic duel their tongues were
engaging in, first one, then the other, advancing
or retreating between opened lips.  She tasted of
wine and life, of summer and of promise, and he
felt like he could drink her forever, sustaining
himself on her primal essence.

     Recovered from his initial surprise, Tom was
no passive participant; his own hands rove across
her, feeling Kim through the thin material of her
dress, his senses delighting as he cupped her taut
ass in his hands, pulling her groin against his,
grinding his hardened length against her pubic
curls, only a few layers of seemingly
inconsequential cloth separating them.  Her full
breasts lay squashed against his chest; he
imagined he could feel their diamond-hard tips
scourging his flesh where they met.  At his waist,
her hands fumbled, frantically undoing his belt,
sliding his zipper open so she could slide a
dainty hand in and grasp his naked, hot shaft with
her slim, cool fingers.  Tom groaned in delight as
the beautiful young woman began sliding her hand
up and down on his length, her other hand still
busily working at undoing his restraints.  Her
silky smooth palm was exquisite as it slid along
him, slightly wet with the drop of pre-cum she had
found at the tip of his cock, rubbing it into him.

     Finally successful in undoing his belt and
the button on his pants, Kim broke off their
fevered kisses.  "I want to taste you," she
whispered, staring up at him, her dark eyes
shining with excitement and the promise of
unimaginable delights to come.  Slowly she slid
down his body, still staring straight up at him,
sparkling eyes boring into his.  "I want to feel
you in my mouth, to suck you, to feel you boil
over."

     Tom had to grasp the edge of the pool table
against which he was leaning to steady himself. 
His senses were reeling, he swore for a moment the
room was spinning like some giant merry-go-round
in an erotic carnival of fleshly delights--"Step
right up, see Kim the fellacitrix kill a man with
pleasure!"--the sensations her clever little hand
was wringing from his cock, the anticipation of
those soft, wet lips on him driving him to
distraction.

     Staring at the ceiling as he leaned back to
orient himself, he hardly realized that Kim had
succeeded in pulling his pants down around his
ankles until suddenly, his cock was swallowed up
by her hot, wet mouth.  There were no
preliminaries, no light flicks of her tongue
against his shaft, no gentle nibbling of the plum
at the top--no, Kim just opened wide and buried
his dick inside her, clamping her lips tight
against the base of his cock, gobbling him
frenziedly all the way into her mouth and down her
throat.

     A cry of pure, unadulterated pleasure was
torn from Tom's lips as he felt his prick
disappearing into the skilled mouth of the
beautiful young woman.  "Aaahhh, aaahhhh, YES!" he
cried, his hips twitching forward of their own
accord, the feel of her agile tongue sliding along
him almost too much to bear.

     Kim began to bob her head up and down on his
jutting cock, soft cheeks hollowing as she sucked
on him, the fingers of one hand toying with his
scrotum, scratching the tender flesh with painted
fingernails.  With each upstroke of her divine
mouth, his shining shaft, wet with her saliva, was
exposed to the cool air, a delicious contrast to
the furnace of her oral cavity.  Trembling with
the sensations sparking through him, Tom looked
down, one hand reaching forth to caress the back
of Kim's head, to entwine itself in her perfumed
locks.  Her black hair was fanned out over him,
obscuring the sight of her mouth opening wide to
suck down his length--but even if he hadn't been
the recipient of her loving attentions, the
slurping noises that filled the room were ample
proof of her oral activities.

     Her skill was uncanny.  Her pink tongue
flicked across him, caressed him, made love to
him, sliding along his hardened shaft, lovingly
paying homage to the highly sensitive head.  Again
and again her clever mouth and fingers drove him
nearly to the point of no return, only to cease
their ministrations for a moment, allowing his
peak to subside, before attacking his cock with
renewed vigor.

     "God, Kim!" Tom panted.  "That feels so
good...so good!  Aaahhh!"

     Tom could feel Kim's oral skills winning the
day.  His control was slipping, slipping rapidly
as her lips rose and fell along him, clamping in a
loving embrace against his male length.  Feeling
the balls tightening under her fingers, hearing
his jagged breathing and inarticulate little
cries, Kim knew that Tom was close, close to
shooting off--and this time, she had no intention
of pulling back.  With an obscene slurping noise,
she pulled her mouth off of his cock.

     "I want you to cum for me baby," she cooed,
staring up at him.  "I want to see you shoot all
that nice, hot, sticky cum for me."  A dainty hand
grasped his shaft, stroking him up and down
swiftly, while her other hand reached behind her,
grabbed something from the floor.

     "That's it, baby," she murmured, leaning
forward to lick the head of his shaft with her
tongue.  "Cum for me, cum for me!"

     The friction was too much; he could feel the
cum boiling in his balls, spilling over,
frantically seeking release.  It was so good, so
good, she was so fucking good.  "Oh yeah, Kim!" he
panted.  "That's it...that's it...make me...make
me...make me CUM!"

     As Tom cried out, his hips thrust forward,
driving her hand down along his heated length,
sending frenzied sensations from his nerve endings
to his brain.  The room shifted as, with a hoarse
cry, he came.  The cum shot from inside him as if
his cock were a water cannon.

     As she sensed his impending orgasm, Kim
leaned back, jerking him off with one slender
hand, while the other brought her empty wine glass
to the tip of his dick.  The cum shot out of Tom's
dick, long, ropy strings drawn from deep within
his spasming body.  Kim watched in fascination as
the milky liquid splashed against the inside of
the glass, splattering as jet after jet poured
forth.  Some of his cum dripped down Tom's cock,
contributing to the slickness as Kim expertly
brought him off.  Finally the copious flow ceased,
a few more drops dribbling out of the head and
dripping onto the carpet, neither of them caring
about any stains.

     Holding the wine glass upright, Kim leaned
forward and slowly, gently, sucked Tom's softening
length into her mouth, cleaning the cum off of it. 
With a gentle "plop!" she released the cleaned
member and stood up.  Tom lay back against the
pool table, drained.

     "Wow!" he managed to choke out.  "That was
incredible."

     "I'm glad I was able to deliver some small
satisfaction," Kim grinned, licking her hand clean
of his salty cum.  "I've always wanted to do
this."

     So saying, she lifted the wine glass up to
the light; before Tom's rapt gaze, swirled his
creamy cum in the glass and brought it to her
lips.  Slowly she tilted the glass, the pearly
liquid sliding slowly along the inner surface of
the glass, to her lips and out, into her mouth. 
Holding the glass upside down, she drained it of
its contents--then, holding his cum inside her
mouth, Kim looked at Tom, swirling his essence
inside her mouth, coating her tongue, before
finally swallowing it all down.

     "Hmm," she remarked.  "Fruity though a bit
salty, with a slightly exotic tang.  I like it!"

     Stepping out of his pants, Tom laughed.  He
stepped towards her, took the glass from her hands
and put it down.  "Well, I've heard it was a very
good year," he replied.  "Though my own tastes run
to somewhat of a different vintage."

     "Oh?" Kim responded with mock innocence. 
"And what might that be?"

     "I'll show you."  Tom grabbed Kim, pulling
her against him, before lifting her and twirling
her around.
     "What are you doing?" she laughed as he
whirled her about.

     By way of reply, Tom danced with her in the
air, Kim's barefeet dangling free, the final few
feet to the pool table.  Reaching it, he set her
on top of it, legs hanging over the edge.

     "You told me I had the wrong pocket earlier,"
he responded.  "I'm just trying to find the right
one."  He slid his hands down along her trim legs,
grasped the hem of her dress and began to push it
up her body.

     "Well, I think you're on your way!" Kim said,
as he pushed the bottom of her dress up past her
hips.

     "I think I've found it," Tom murmured, as he
dropped to his knees before her.  On the pool
table, Kim reclined slightly, leaning back on her
elbows.

     Feeling his hot breath on her wet sex as he
bent towards her, Kim agreed.  "I think so too."

     Kneeling in front of her, Tom's hands gently
pulled Kim's thighs apart, revealing the mysteries
within.  He stared entranced at the young woman's
pussy.  Her soft lower lips were glistening with
her dew, seeping from the delicate slit, its
enticing aroma beckoning him forward.  A neatly
trimmed thatch of black curls topped her soft,
delectable mound.  Kim's womanhood looked so
inviting, so kissable, like a delicate rare
flower, with tender petals to be worshipped and
adored.

     He leaned forward, kissed the perfumed flesh,
causing a slight gasp to come from the young
woman.  Tom smiled to himself; he was going to be
doing a lot more to gasp about!

     Holding her tanned thighs firmly, fingers
pressed into the soft flesh, his tongue snaked
out, flicking across her slit, sampling her
nectar.

     "As I suspected," Tom remarked, staring up at
her for a moment.  "The best vintage I've had all
day."

     "It better be!" laughed Kim, impatient for
him to get back to work between her legs.  After
having sucked him off, she was incredibly horny
and dying to cum herself.  "Now get back to taking
a good, long drink--none of this sample and spit
bullshit!"

     Obeying the half-naked young woman, Tom
leaned forward again, sliding his tongue up and
down her leaking slit, parting the petals of her
vulva with his wet tongue.

     "Oh yes," Kim cooed, hiking her dress up
further, anxious that it not interfere with Tom's
oral attentions.  "That's so nice."  She leaned
back on the pool table, legs resting on Tom's
shoulders, and idly began to play with her
hardening nipples through the material of her
dress.

     The taste of her nectar burned on his tongue,
intoxicating him.  He had to have more of the
heavenly liquid.  Tom pressed his mouth against
Kim's lower lips, his fingers moving to the
juncture of her thighs, pulling the soft little
flower open, giving his tongue better access to
her dripping hole.  His tongue stabbed out again
and again into her molten core, gathering the love
juices and bringing them to his greedy mouth. 
Kim's thighs clenched against his head, slightly
muffling her little cries and moans, as he feasted
on her delicious little muff.

     "That's it, baby!" she cried.  "Eat me...eat
my pussy!  Oh, yes!"

     Tom's mouth worked busily, his lips sucking
on Kim's moist flesh as his tongue probed her
honeyed depths, slurping the ambrosia oozing from
her tight, young body.  He loved hearing her
ragged breathing, the little gasps escaping her
wonderful mouth.  Slowly he moved his mouth up
along her steaming snatch, dragging his tongue in
its wake, moving up, up the length of her cunt
until finally his tongue flicked across her erect
clit.

     "Unngghh, YES!" Kim screamed as the
electricity coursed through her body.  Her legs
clenched spasmodically, trying to push her mons
venus up, harder against him, but they grabbed
only air as they hung off the pool table.

     Determined to give as good as he got, Tom
worshipped Kim's pussy orally, moving his tongue
all around her swollen little clit, sometimes
sliding slowly across it, sometimes flicking it
rapidly with just the tip of his tongue, sometimes
sucking it into the warmth of his mouth. 
Meanwhile, he wormed one finger around, sloshed it
in the fragrant juices dripping from her hole,
before finally pushing it forward, sinking it into
her satiny softness.  He could feel the wet,
velvety walls expanding as he slid it in, clasping
the welcome intruder as it forced itself deeper
and deeper inside her.

     A low keening sound began to fill the air as
Kim approached her climax.  Tiny little tremors
began to wrack her body--her hands had by this
time freed her breasts from their constraints and
were busy pulling on and pinching her hardened
cherry-red nipples.  Her sugary walls clenched
Tom's finger as he drove it in and out of her
cunt, fucking her with it faster and faster.

     Tom redoubled his efforts, wanting to feel
the young woman cum on his face, pressing his
mouth hard against Kim's pussy, flailing around
with his wet tongue, moving his soft lips along
her, sliding against the sensitized flesh.  Kim's
moans grew louder as he ate her cunt, her juices
dripping from her sopping hole and leaking down
onto the green felt of the pool table, the wet
stain spreading wider and wider.  She was
spiraling upwards, ever upwards, striving to reach
the sky, to go just a little higher...just a
little higher...

     With an explosive shudder, Kim peaked.

     "Uuunnngghhh!" she wailed, thrashing her head
back and forth on the pool table, long black
tresses flailing wildly about.  Her thighs
clutched Tom's head in a deathlock, nearly cutting
off his breathing, her pussy walls contracting
spasmodically around the wonderful finger fucking
in and out of her heated core.  Tom frantically
sucked as much of her cunt as he could into his
mouth, his tongue stabbing at and licking her
hardened little clitoris over and over again while
Kim screamed and spasmed against his face again
and again.

     Her orgasm ripped through her taut body,
seemingly endless.  Time didn't exist...space
didn't exist...all that existed...all that
mattered...was that exquisite mouth and tongue and
finger pleasuring her, taking her to the heights
of ecstasy.

     Finally she slumped back against the pool
table, delighting in the feel of Tom giving her
sopping pussy a few last little licks and kisses
as she came down.

     "Oh God," she moaned.  "That was fantastic. 
I feel sooo floopy..."

     "I'll take that as a 'job well done'," Tom
commented with a grin as he rose to his feet, his
tanned face glistening with Kim's love juices. 
His erect cock jutted in front of him.  Holding
her thighs open, he slowly moved between them,
eagerly anticipating the feel of those steaming
walls clutching his cock, his hardened shaft
pistoning in and out of Kim's tight, young body.

     Suddenly Kim realized through her reverie
what Tom was about to do.  "No," she cried
frantically, throwing one hand over her pussy.

     Tom was startled.  "Oh God, I'm sorry..." he
started to say, flushing crimson from
embarrassment.

     "No, don't be!" Kim replied.  "It's not that
I don't want you to--I really do want you to!--
it's just that I'm not on the pill!"

     "I'm so sorry, I was just so horny and guess
I just sort of assumed you were..."

     "Sorry, lover," Kim smiled.  "I don't suppose
you have any condoms in your wallet?  Aren't all
you single guys supposed to carry a half dozen or
so?"

     "Damn!  No, sorry," Tom said.  "I guess I
skipped class the day they were telling us single
guys what to carry when you go to a wine
tasting..."  He shook his head in dismay.

     "Well, that's all right.  I forgive you--but
next time, don't cut class!" Kim replied with mock
severity, sitting up and reaching out to stroke
Tom's face, her fingers getting slippery from her
juices covering his cheeks.

     She smiled at him, jumping down from the pool
table.  "Don't worry, there's always later.  I
_am_ in town for a few more days and if you think
I'm going to leave without feeling that cock
inside me, you've got another thing coming!  And
anyway, this event was only supposed to be a
tasting!"