“Well then-” Professor Richardson stands up from the loveseat, “I think it time for me to be heading off to bed.”
He closes the distance between the loveseat and the couch where Amal and I still sat. Leaning down he tenderly kisses Amal’s cheek, her dark almond eyes glimmering at me while he does.
“Goodnight, my Love.” Amal silkily coos, turning her focus away from me and staring deep into Professor Richardson’s eyes. They smile sweetly at each other. My cheeks grow warm watching the interaction, feeling like I witnessing a moment that should be private. I giggle awkwardly. They both turn and look at me, smiling coyly. Professor Richardson leans towards me, my heart quickens ever so slightly as he does, his mouth gets intimately close to my neck…
“We’re so glad you could join us.” He whispers into my ear, his breath hot as he speaks. He’s so close I can smell him. He’s somehow managed to smell clean but earthy… a scent that could only be defined as fucking intoxicating. I feel my face grow even warmer as he then kisses my cheek, daringly close to the crook of my lips. He holds the kiss for a second, but that second feels like minutes. I’m surrounded by his scent, enamored by the feeling of his stubble lightly scraping against my cheek. I’m so overwhelmed it takes me a moment to realize he has pulled away, and now looks down on me with a soft smirk.
“Goodnight.” He says softly before turning and exiting the living room, leaving Amal and I by ourselves.
“Finally… some girl time.” Amal chuckles, taking a sip from her glass of Cabernet Sauvignon. She reclines deeper into the corner of the couch, lifting her feet and placing them on the cushions.
“Shhh… don’t tell him I did this. He gets kinda anal when it comes to the furniture.” She tells me mischievously. She motions for me to join her, and I lift my feet onto the couch, my toes touching hers unintentionally when I do. We sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Well, comfortable for her, I don’t think this woman has ever felt out of place. Even in silence, her confidence exudes from her, making me feel like even more of a moron as I sit here squirming. She sighs.
“Although my husband has retired for the night, that doesn’t mean the night is not young. Can I interest you in another glass?” She points to my empty wine glass. I politely nod. She gets up and walks towards the drink table, I can’t help to watch her as she does. Her dark black hair flows like silk ribbons down her back. The dress she is wearing is a striking ruby complimenting her deep caramel skin. The fabric is sheer and I can see her figure as she walks closer to the light of the fireplace. She turns to me with the bottle of white wine I had been drinking throughout the night.
“Are you sure you wanna stick with white? The red I’ve been drinking is simply divine.” She asks me.
“Yeah, I’m not really one for red wine. Uh… too bitter for me.” I tell her sheepishly. I’m worried she’ll find my drink preferences to be childish. Instead, she smiles acceptingly, pouring the white wine into my glass. She pours herself another glass of red. Joining me again on the couch, she hands me my glass before laying back into the crook of L, stretching her legs. Her toes brush lightly over my crotch before settling inches away from it but still between my thighs. I feel myself jolt a bit when this happens. I pray that she didn’t see my reaction and am gifted with confirmation when she nonchalantly takes a sip of wine before speaking.
“Mmm… there’s just something about a red that does it for me…” she murmurs seductively.
“A complexity…” she takes another sip, pulling away spinning the glass, closing her eyes and sniffing it lightly.
“Deep & robust…bold.” She opens her eyes, her gaze feels like fire. Something about her makes it difficult for me to conjugate words so instead, I take a sip from my glass.
“Y’know…” She continues.
“You can never taste how sweet something truly is until you taste the bitterness for which it is sweet in comparison to,” Amal tells me. Her mouth is stained from the wine, her lush lips a deep crimson. Her beauty astounds me and I find myself lost in just watching her. She sits upright onto her knees, her face merely inches from mine.
“I’d like to show you what I mean.” She grabs the wine glass that I placed beside me on the coffee table and raises it to my mouth.
“Sip.” She tells me. I do as told and drink from the glass. The wine is delicious. For a split second, I feel guilty. It’s a shame they’re wasting such an expensive wine on someone with such a poor palette. She sets the glass back down and reaches for her own. She brings it to my mouth and I can see from the marks on the glass that where she drank from is directly in front of my lips. I open my mouth slightly and she places the glass against it, tipping it gently so the crimson liquid flows into me. The first thing I taste is the bitterness. Sharp, acidic, overwhelmingly so. I can feel my lips purse a bit, my palette desperately seeking another note to the wine. Somewhere deep within the heavy body of it, I can taste a dark berry of sorts, but only its tartness. I recoil slightly and she pulls the glass away. She picks up my glass again, and slowly brings it up to my lips. We lock eyes and I open my mouth invitingly to the wine. Crisper than before, the fruits I could not identify now show through and I pick up notes of citrus and green apple. In comparison to the red, the white tastes fresh. And the sweetness… just like what she said, I can now taste how incredibly sweet it is.
“Do you taste it?” She asks me.
“Yes.”
She beams, her full lips pulling back revealing her perfect white teeth. My heart quickens, I feel a knot form in my lower stomach.
“Would you like to try it again?”
Her tone is so alluring and I find myself encapsulated, nodding yes to her. She puts the glass of white wine to my lips and I taste the sweetness once again. She sets it down and reaches for her glass but this time she doesn’t raise it to my lips, but rather her own. Confused, I watch as she sips the wine and places it down beside her, turning to me with a drop of wine on her bottom lip. Before I can say anything, Amal places her hand on the back of my head and brings my lips to hers. For a moment I’m stunned; is this happening? I’m knocked back into reality when I feel her tongue delve deep into my mouth. I can taste the wine. The bitterness of it mixed with her saliva is much like the scent of her husband, an intoxicating substance to me. I can’t help myself and greedily meet her tongue with my own. I meet her on my knees and find myself tangling my hands in her soft hair.
She pulls away for a moment and I’m afraid she thinks this is a mistake. That is until she grabs my glass of wine.
“Open up, Love.” She insists. And I gladly do. She pours the sweet liquid in my mouth and practically tosses the glass to the side, dragging my mouth back to hers. A collision of tongues, and teeth, nipping at each other’s lips. The taste of sweet white wine and bitter red battling each other for dominance in our mouths. Her hand leaves the back of my neck and begins traveling down my clavicle, over my breasts, and stops on my nipple. She pinches it through the fabric and I gasp. She coyly smiles.
“Does that feel good?” She asks me. I nod enthusiastically. She begins rolling the nipple between her index finger and thumb and I can’t help but let out a moan. My head falls back and Amal latches on to my exposed neck, kissing and softly biting it. Immersed in pleasure, I begin to fall backward and am greeted with the plushness of the smooth velvet cushions. Amal straddles my hips and looks down at me with eyes full of fire and an expression that could only be defined as pure eroticism. Her fingers begin to dance across the skin my dress exposes. She trails the length of my collarbones, dips down into my cleavage… She tugs at the top of my dress.
“May I?” She asks. I respond with a breathy “Yes.” and she pulls the straps of my dress down exposing my breasts freely to her. She gazes at them and I begin to feel insecure. Apparently, the emotion is obvious on my face as Amal leans down to tenderly kiss my lips.
“No need to be modest. You’re quite divine, my Dear.” She assures me as she rubs my breasts with the palms of her hands. She leans back slightly so she can reach the table. I watch as she dips her finger into the red wine and before the droplet on her finger can fall, she swirls it around my areola. The pink flesh becomes spotted with crimson. She then leans down and licks the droplets off me softly, before nipping my bud harshly. I have to contain a yelp. She looks up at me through her thick eyelashes, and I can see a devilish grin plastered on her face. Amal shifts herself backward, off me, and begins to shimmy my dress down my body, leaving me only in a pair of lacy white underwear.
“How sweet…” She coos, trailing her fingers over the waistband of the patterned lace. There’s nothing I want more than for her to trail those fingers underneath the waistband…
I’m slightly surprised when she grabs the glass of red wine and holds it above me, places her hand on my chest to signify to keep still. She begins to pour the crimson liquid into the dip of my collarbone. I watch it pool, trying my best not to let any of it spill onto the lavish couch underneath me. She stops and sets the glass down before leaning in to lap up the wine. I can feel her drinking it off my skin, licking it clean of all the wine remnants. I whimper softly. She grabs the glass of wine again and this time pours between my ribs, it slides down and puddles in my belly button. Before she has a chance to clean it up with her tongue, my heavy breathing allows for the wine to trickle down my stomach, staining my white panties with crimson.
“Oh no…” Amal begins teasingly…
“…looks like you’ve made a mess…” she crawls on top of me, almost like a panther about to maul it’s prey…
“…now, what kind of host would I be if I didn’t… help clean it up?” I intake a sharp breath at what she’s implying. She begins to travel down my body, maintaining intense eye contact with me, licking up the trail of wine leading down to my crotch. Between my thighs, Amal looks up at me fiercely. She runs the flat of her tongue on the inside of my thighs, cleaning the small residual wine that had trickled down. I’m given no warning when she licks the wine saturated fabric of my underwear over my clit. I cover my mouth to prevent the loud moan from escaping. She continues licking the area teasingly. I don’t doubt she’s enjoying torturing me. It reaches a whole new level when she begins sucking on the fabric, collecting the flesh of my clit as well. My back arches and I almost begin to cry from how wanting I am.
“Please…” I whimper.
She stops momentarily and looks up.
“I’m sorry, what was that?” I’m too late to respond and she sucks the fabric again… hard. I can’t help but let out a whine.
“Please!..please…I need- I… need more…” Tears begin to form in my eyes. She smiles tenderly and I feel a new kind of warmth envelope me. But that tenderness soon turns to ferociousness and Amal rips my panties off me, leaving them in a pile of shreds beside us on the ground. She firmly rests one arm over my stomach, making it difficult for me to squirm. Over teasing me, she eagerly begins exploring my folds with her tongue.
“Oh, fuck…” I moan. I can feel her chuckle, her hot breath dancing against me.
“I told you the bitterness lets you taste the sweet… and you, my Dear, are sweet-”
She dips her tongue into my entering.
“-practically dessert.” She begins a tantalizing rhythm against my clit with the tip of her tongue and I can feel a burning building deep in my groin.
“Please don’t stop.” I quietly beg her. She reaches up with her free hand and begins rolling my nipple between her fingers, sucking on my clit furiously. It pushes me further into my pleasure and I left out a guttural moan. I can feel it. I’m so close. So fucking close…
“Well.”
My head snaps to the side and there, standing in the living room doorway, watching us intently, was Professor Richardson. I scoot myself back hard away from Amal’s mouth, closing my thighs tightly, grabbing a couch cushion to cover my nudity with. I watch in horror as he enters the living room and approaches the drink table. He pours himself a glass of scotch turns to us and takes a seat on the chaise where he had sat at the beginning of the night. The look on his face is stern and I’m terrified of what’s going to happen. He takes a long swing of his drink and when he pulls the glass away, a smile reminiscent of a cat having just fallen in cream lays upon his face. I’m confused and look towards Amal and find her wearing a similar smile.
“I thought wine pairing only pertained to the pairing of food and wine…” Professor Richardson begins, obviously amused. He takes another sip of his scotch.
“- tell me Amal, how does cunt pair with a full-bodied red?”.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/gsm7ux/wine_pairing_ff