“So how did you like our wine?” he gestures with a hint of a knowing glee at the half empty evidence on the table.
“Umm, it was good.”
He cocks an eyebrow.
“Frankly, I’m not much of a wine person. I’m more a sweet cocktail kind of gal. It was very good, but I couldn’t elaborate on the taste or anything else like you experts would…”
“I see…” he says somewhat pensive. He motions for me to take a seat at the sofa, and settles himself on the coffee table in front of me. His legs are slightly parted, almost touching mine nudged between them. He takes the bottle and deftly gets rid of the cork.
“Let’s try to do it together,” he says, his voice a degree huskier. “You need to use your scent, taste and sight to evaluate wine.” He gives me a soft, yet very suggestive look. “Sight,” he says as he brings the bottle to his mouth. His lips wrap around the narrow opening and he takes a slow sip. I swallow hard. He then inclines his head toward me, cups my neck to slightly tilt my head back and touches his mouth to mine. As I part my lips, his tongue reaches in with some of the wine and starts to stroke mine through the rich moistness. It twirls around, letting the delectable liquid reach every part of my mouth. I suck hard on his tongue, tasting the wine and my desire that grows with every erotic stroke of his.
“Taste,” he says low as he pulls back. “Keep your eyes closed, Liv. I’m going to do that again. I want you to suck on it, swirl it in your mouth, and try to think what flavors come to your mind.” And he does, and everything inside me tightens, and everything around me melts, and everything about me arouses.
“Open them, now tell me if it’s balanced,” he kisses my lips gently. “Complex.” Another kiss. “Evolved.” A more profound one.
Tastes like an orgasm? I close my eyes, lick my slightly pulsing lips, his hand trails slowly under the hem of my dress, holding my thigh. I lick my lips again.
“It tastes … warm, and rich.”
“Mmm, hmm,” his hand sprawls, making my skin burn at the spot.
“Fruity, and sexy,” I add quietly, my eyes still closed, the edge of my lips slightly curving.
“Keep going,” his other hand cups my cheek, and his thumb is touching, not touching my lips.
“It tastes like something I want again in my mouth.” My eyelids slowly lift and I look at him with everything that rages inside of me.
“Sold,” he says gruffly, with a hint of a smile. “Oh, and there’s the scent,” he adds next, nuzzling the area just below my ear. “Divine.”