Author: zin1953

Friends of [M]ine

Friends of mine have a place in the mountains. It can get quite warm up there in the Fall, away from the ocean breezes and the fog, surrounded by tall redwoods reaching skyward, and a wide clearing filled with row upon row of Cabernet Sauvignon wines. I often stay here while they are on vacation, acting as a house sitter. Keeping an eye on the vines, the winery (which is actually under their house), and the home, but otherwise having very little actual chores or responsibility.

They have a beautiful home, made from all redwood, both inside and out, situated at the top of the steep, half-mile driveway, which opens at the higher end of a clearing. The house has decks on three sides, and 360 degrees of spectacular views. It is quite secluded; you can see no other homes from their property. Read more »

Adventures at 38,000 Feet

*The Beginning*

I come across the Bay on BART, meeting you at SFO at 9:00pm. I know this seems awfully early, since the plane won’t begin boarding for another two hours, but this gives us enough time to relax and not be rushed to get through Security. Since food onboard United is never anything to write home about, we decide on a late-night meal/snack/. It’s between *Limon*, a restaurant in the Mission District famous for its Peruvian food, especially its roast chicken, and the relative simplicity of *SF Uncork’d*, a wine bar with a great selection of wines by the glass and craft beers, as well as assorted charcuterie. We opt for the latter, if only because it’s not in the Food Court and you can actually sit at a table and be served. Read more »

Farther [M/F]

“It’s just a little farther,” I say over my shoulder, as we continue our hike. “Just over the next rise.”

“I hope so,” you say in reply.

We are walking through typical California scrub – waist-high scrub, light brown rock, light brown dirt – and have been for some twenty minutes, ever since we left the car at the side of the road. The sun is beating down. It’s hot, and there is little breeze. We’re both in hiking shorts and boots; I’m in a T-shirt, you’re in a tank-top. We both have Camelbaks on, and I take the tube in my mouth, suck down a couple of swallows of water. I stop and turn around to see you doing the same, as you walk towards me. Despite your bra, the curve of your breasts is quite visible, as are your exquisite nipples – I have a fleeting image of sucking on them, instead of this water tube, but . . . you push right past me and keep going up the hill.

I turn and catch up with you at the top. We look down, and you see what I have been promising: down this next slope, there is a flowing stream, shade trees, and watering hole deep enough to swim in. Read more »

Lingerie & Champagne (MF)

We have arranged a “date.” Arriving a few minutes late, with flowers and a chilled

bottle of Champagne – light, crisp dry, and delicious. You open the door a crack,

peek out, and then open the door wider. I nearly drop the Champagne. I know my

jaw dropped! You are clad in red from head to toe — well, at least what’s there is

red. Camisole, tap pants, stockings, and a sheer, nearly floor-length red negligée —

open down the front.

I am about to say something, when you beat me to it, welcoming me and inviting me

inside . . . Handing you the flowers, I reach into the pocket of my sports coat and pull

out the accompaniment for the Champagne: osetra caviar and little toasts

(crackers). Seeing the smile on your face ignites fireworks in my heart, and you take

the caviar from me and head into the kitchen for some plates. Meanwhile, I open the

Champagne with a soft “kiss” of the cork, and pour us each a glass . . .

We sit on your living room sofa – me feeling conspicuously overdressed – savoring Read more »

Le Chateau, Part Two (MF)

Quickly reaching the other side of the room, he wrapped his arms around her and they kissed with all of the pent-up passion that had been building up within them since the weekend started. The heat in their kiss was palpable, as their tongues danced in and out of one another’s mouths and the smell, touch, taste of each other flooded their over-aroused minds, as they tasted and teased one another with their tongues, the heat from their bodies burning through the fabric of their clothes.

He left her lips, moving to kiss her cheek, her neck, and he felt her hand encircle his shaft. As he went to nibble on her ear, she slipped out of his arms, sinking to her knees. Squeezing his shaft in her hand, and sliding upwards, she collected the precum from the tip in one quick flick of her tongue before letting go — only to reach up, unbuckling his belt and letting his pants fall around his ankles. She pulled down his shorts, causing his cock to slide downward and then spring back up, almost hitting her in the chin. Taking it once again in her hand, she looked up into his eyes and, slowly, ever so slowly, kissed the tip and sucked him through her closed lips and into her warm, waiting mouth. Read more »

Le Château (M / F)

There was a party at the Comte de Brailles’ estate in the countryside, about 100 kilometers or so outside Paris. It was a small gathering, about 8-10 couples, but for the entire four days of the holiday weekend.

He and his wife arrived late in the morning of the first day. The weather was perfect, that end-of-summer warmth that made driving fast with the top down not just essential, but mandatory. Another couple, and of course the hosts, were already there, and after a nice intimate little luncheon for six, and a game of tennis or a nice swim in the pool…the other two couples arrived in time for dinner.

People were naturally expected to “dress” for dinner. That is to say, formal attire — suits and ties for the gentlemen; and floor-length dresses, heels for the women — as befit this luxurious mansion. Cocktails and hors d’oeuvres were served at 8:00, with dinner at 9:00. All through the evening, whether in the Great Hall of the château, or the formal dining room, he couldn’t take his eyes off her. Read more »