An Evening In Napa – Part 1 [FF]

*Reposting because I’m a moron and got the tag wrong…*

At college and for a little while afterwards, I worked at a Starbucks in SoCal. It was just 15 or 20 hours a week for spending money, and I enjoyed it most of the time. There was the occasional asshole customer, sure, but we were busy enough that they never really made an impression, and I liked the people I worked with, most of whom were around my age.

I also liked many of our regulars. Being a barista is a lot like bartending, another of the many strings on the bow I wielded until I found a real career path. There are people you see at the same time every day; you get to know their name and their order, and sometimes you get to know them beyond a simple business transaction.

That was how I met Laura. She was a pretty blonde professional in her late thirties who came in and ordered an unsweetened iced tea five days a week, regardless of the weather.

In some ways, it was odd that we connected. Laura was a lot like the women that had flitted in and out of my dad’s life after my mom died – attractive, intelligent, and competent, but flighty and immature. She was college-educated and obviously had her shit together, juggling a full-time job and a busy family life (three kids!), but she was always regaling me with tales of too many glasses of sparkling white at an important business lunch or margarita-soaked nights out with the girls.

In short, she was everything college-age me was rebelling against. But she obviously liked me, her genuine friendliness was infectious and disarming, and I found myself developing a bit of a crush on her frank blue eyes and mischevious smile.

That summer, our conversations got longer and more detailed. She came in early enough that there was time to chat, and she wanted to know how my studies were going and what I was planning on doing after college. She also apparently wanted lots of eye contact that sometimes seemed a little more than friendly.

“Can I ask you something?”

This was in July. The semester was over, and I’d been telling her of my plans to drive up and visit friends in Oregon when she suddenly interrupted.

“Of course,” I said.

“I’m going to be in Napa for my birthday, for a week. If the dates match up, why don’t you stop by? I’ve told my friends about you.”

“And my amazing iced tea.”

“I can’t get enough.”

“Okay. I mean, sure, why not?”

And so, a week and a half later, I found myself pulling into what I could only call the courtyard of a very large house way out in wine country. I’d been texting with Laura for the last few hours of my journey, and she was waiting to greet me, looking like a stranger in a tank-top with a wraparound skirt and Audrey Hepburn shades.

“I’m so glad you made it!” She threw her arms around me, and I smelled sunblock and booze as she kissed me on the cheek.

It was the first time she’d ever touched me, and I was keenly aware that a line was being crossed. It was no big deal, of course, but there was a certain erotic charge in the shift from business to intimacy.

“Me too. My ass is numb.”

“Get your stuff. We’ll get you a drink and get you in the hot tub. It’s magic.”

I grabbed my backpack and followed Laura into the house. In the kitchen, she introduced me to her husband, Paul, and another couple, Jake and Kelly, who owned the house. I had seen pictures of Paul before, along with their children. He was a few years older than Laura, with a decent amount of grey in his brown hair, and he looked like a man who had lived a good life, with a deep tan and laughter lines at the corners of his eyes and mouth. Jake was shorter and stocky and handsome as hell, with thick dark hair and a beard to match. There was a twinkle in his eye from the start, and when he shook my hand it was with a knowing little grin I was immediately attracted to. His wife was pretty and supermodel skinny, with kinky brown hair, a huge smile, and a dusting of freckles across both her chest and the bridge of her nose. Like Laura, she was wearing a tank-top, her nipples so prominent through the thin material that she could have been topless.

Laura ushered me upstairs and away from offers of wine and whiskey.

“We started early,” she said. “They can be a bit overwhelming.”

“It’s fine.”

“I just don’t want everybody, you know…”

“Jumping on me?”

She wrinkled her nose. “This all feels a bit crass when you put it like that.”

“I’m not some naive little waif, Laura. I didn’t think you asked me up here for the wine.” I smiled at the look on her face. “Why don’t you show me where this hot tub is?”

We went downstairs again, this time into another part of the house, where a hallway led into a round room that was 80% tub. It was already conveniently full of steaming water, and when Laura reached down and pulled a handle, it began to bubble.

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit or anything,” I said.

“I can leave you to it.”

“You’re not coming in?”

“Why don’t I get us a drink? What are you having?”

“Bourbon if you have it. Neat.”

After she left, I looked around, feeling my age, part of me cursing my curiosity and my apparent inability to stop following my lusts wherever they led me. It was probably fine, but these people were strangers to me, and while I had been careful to make my whereabouts known to friends, I was a long way from anyone and anywhere familiar.

The worst thing about it? I was turned on. I had an image of Paul and Jake fucking me, holding me down as one took my pussy and the other my mouth while their wives cheered them on, waiting their turn. I imagined them doing this every year, luring some innocent college girl far from safety and making her their little whore. Happy birthday, Laura, here’s another.

I took a shaky breath and laughed to myself, then quickly took off my clothes and slipped into the hot tub.

After the hours spent in my car, it was wonderful, and I groaned with pleasure, let myself sink beneath the surface for as long as I could hold my breath, surfacing to push back my long hair just as Laura returned with a tray – bourbon and red wine and glasses.

“This is incredible,” I said, my trepidation of moments before already fading.

“I told you.” Laura grinned and set the tray down beside me. “Help yourself.”

I poured myself a generous shot. In my peripheral vision, Laura began undressing. I couldn’t stop myself looking over as she peeled off her tank-top and reached back to unclasp her bra. Her breasts were bigger than I’d imagined, capped with large nipples almost as pale as her skin. The skirt came off next, then she kicked off her sandals and bent to take down her panties.

She had a wonderful body, slim and toned. Stretchmarks and a few other signs of wear and tear, sure, but this was a woman who’d had three kids and was pushing forty. I’d taken her claims of yoga and a vegetarian diet with a raised eyebrow and a polite lack of comment, but a long term changing of my own habits certainly crossed my mind in that moment.

“You look fucking amazing.” Was what came out of my mouth.

She laughed, blushing as she sat down on the edge of the tub and slid into the water beside me. I took a drink of the bourbon, wincing at its harshness.

“I don’t know how you can drink that stuff,” she said.

“You get used to it, and after a couple, you don’t really care.”

“I can’t even taste it. It’s too strong.”

I smiled at her. “Here,” I said.

I leaned in, tilting my head slightly as our lips met, bringing my free hand to the nape of her neck as she slipped her tongue into my mouth. As first kisses go, it was tentative, but she knew what she was doing and I felt my body responding.

“I’ve been thinking of doing that for about a year,” she said, when she finally broke away. “You are such a gorgeous little thing.”

I laughed. “I’m glad I came then.”

We kissed again, and she pushed me gently back against the edge of the tub, her hands coming to rest on my hips beneath the water, moving up to my waist and then my breasts, squeezing gently, thumbs skimming the tips of my nipples. I moaned and let my head fall back, her lips moving to my jaw and then my neck, teeth grazing my skin. I lifted myself a little higher in the water as she kissed my chest and then took a nipple into her mouth, sucking softly, flicking at it with the tip of her tongue.

I reached for my glass and took a deep drink from it. I was already dazed from the hot water and her attention, and the heat of it pouring down my throat and into my belly amplified that sensation. It was wonderful.

“Do you do this a lot?” I heard myself ask.

Laura kissed her way back up, her lips brushing mine. “Define this. A party or girls half my age in a hot tub?”

Her mouth, lips a little red from sucking at my skin, was too tempting. I kissed her again.

“Whichever you feel like answering,” I said, in a moment between.

Her fingers on my nipples, lightly pinching and twisting, were driving me insane. I wanted her to touch me so badly I ached with it.

“We’ve been swinging for a few years. It’s done wonders for our marriage and there’s been a lot of self-discovery. I have never been with someone as young as you and I feel very, very guilty but also very, very horny.”

“Please touch me,” I said.

“Fuck, you’re hot. Fuck.”

One hand traced a teasing path down over my ribs and my stomach, fingernails just touching my skin. Goosebumps on my arms and my back and then her fingertips nudging between my labia, down and then back up, finding my clit. I made a sound that was half-moan, half-whimper, and she swallowed it with another kiss as her fingers rubbed and her other hand relentessly kneaded my breast.

“You’re gonna make me come,” I said into her mouth.

And then I did, hard, grinding on her hand and gasping, my arms around her neck, fingers digging into her shoulders.

“I’m gonna melt into this tub and drown if you let me go,” I said, when I had breath to speak. “Christ.”

“Do you wanna go upstairs?”

“In a minute, yeah. You weren’t the only one who’d been waiting for that.”

Between the orgasm, the heat, and the booze, I could feel a powerful lethargy creeping up on me. I reluctantly extricated myself from Laura’s embrace. We climbed out of the tub, grabbed towels and clothes and – in Laura’s case – the tray, and headed back upstairs.

“It used to be a bed and breakfast,” she said, nodding at the room she’d brought me to, which almost as big as the apartment I shared with two other girls. “Jake got it cheap because it needed a lot of work. He’s good with his hands.”

“I bet.”

“I feel bad, actually.” She lay down on the bed and opened her towel so she was naked on top of it. “This was originally a swinging thing, Paul and Kelly, Jake and me.”

“They’re probably double-teaming her right now.” I poured a large glass of wine and handed it to her. “Here. This bottle’s practically surgically attached to you. I won’t sleep if you don’t drink any.”

“You were planning on sleeping?”

I took off my towel while she drained most of the glass in several large gulps, then put it down to watch me crawl up the bed, lowering my head to kiss the inside of her thigh. Her pussy had a little more color than her nipples, but it was still a pale pink, glistening under the bedroom light with what I knew wasn’t water. I could smell her, and I couldn’t wait to taste her.

She sighed when I did, reaching back to adjust the pillows so she could lay back and watch, spreading her legs for me. I explored her first, the ridges and folds of her flesh, poking her opening with the tip of my tongue, then upward, pressing flat to her clit, lapping at it, slowly at first, but with increasing enthusiasm as she responded, tilting her hips toward me and biting her lip. She was playing with her own nipples the same way she had with mine, pinching between forefinger and thumb, rolling the tips back and forth.

She was soaked with her arousal and my saliva, and my fingers slipped easily into her, two of them, curling back in a come hither gesture, searching out her g-spot. Her hips twitched and she reached down and grabbed at my hair.

“Fuck! Don’t stop! Oh god don’t stop!”

I had no intention of stopping. Laura writhing in pleasure, moaning uncontrollably, at the mercy of my tongue and my fingers, was one of the sexiest things I’d ever seen. I could see and feel and hear that she was about to come, and I wanted it nearly as much as she did.

Laura arched her back and grabbed her breasts. A series of hiccuping gasps escaped her. I felt her thighs twitching, her abdomen tensing. She was shaking. Then silence for those few tense moments when I knew she was there, everything peaking, when you don’t know if you want it to stop or go on forever.

She fell back, breathing hard, pushing my head away from her. When I sat up, I saw sweat shining on her chest and face. She smiled and held out her hands.

“It’s been a while since I came that hard,” she said, as I crawled up her body and into her arms.

I kissed her, then shifted position so that we were spooning, with me as the big. I fell asleep almost instantly.

It was dark when I awoke. I was on my back with Laura’s arm draped across me. I wriggled out from under it and sat up. She must have cleaned up and switched everything off after I fell asleep – I couldn’t see the towels or our clothes. I didn’t want to wake her up, so I fumbled my way to the door I had assumed was an en suite bathroom and pulled it closed behind me before patting the wall for a switch.

The bathroom was as luxurious as the bedroom. There was no sign of my clothes, but there were towels so I could take a quick shower and a robe I could wear to go downstairs and grab my backpack.

The shower was hot and powerful, and I stayed in there a little longer than I’d intended, blasting away the cobwebs of a long drive, a quick injection of liquor and sex, and then what felt like a pretty short sleep. I had no idea what the time was. I needed my phone.

Refreshed and dry, I slipped into the robe and snuck out of the room. The lights were on in the hallway and I could hear music playing from somewhere downstairs. I didn’t entirely have my bearings, so I followed the sound until I found myself in a spacious, luxurious living room. There were two couches and several other armchairs, as well as a huge fireplace complete with expensive-looking rug. Mounted on the wall was the biggest TV I’d ever seen, and drifting softly from the speaker that flanked it was the music I’d heard upstairs.

“Sigur Rós,” I said to Jake, who was laying on the couch, reading a magazine.

“A woman of taste,” he said, looking up. “In music and women. Did you have fun?”

I nodded. “Sorry if I cock-blocked you. I didn’t know until…well…too late.”

“Laura and I have hung out before and we’ll hang out again. One of the nice things about our friendship is that it isn’t possessive or weird. She was excited about you.”

“This place is ridiculous.”

He laughed. “I promise my dick is bigger than this makes it seem.” He sat up and put down the magazine. “I got it really cheap. I was originally making like a glorious, many-roomed man cave. Then Kelly liked it and Paul and Laura liked it and now it’s our little sex retreat.”

“I’m betting your definition of dirt cheap is different to mine. Which way is the kitchen?”

“Cold,” he said, but he was still smiling. “Back out the door you came in, second on the right.”

“Thanks.”

I followed his directions and retrieved my backpack. There were exactly zero messages from concerned friends and it was a little after 2am. I sat down at the kitchen table. I was wide awake, so it was a question of going back to the warmth of bed and Laura, or…something else.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/8isbor/an_evening_in_napa_part_1_ff