For this session, Panda suggested a wine that is just casual.
Casual can be boring, however.
The art is in turning the casual to something sensual.
I'm walking around in Wan Chai, Hong Kong, thinking about somewhere to buy some wine for tonight's event. I find a nondescript supermarket in the middle of Wan Chai that purveys only Australian goods, like the usual meats and reds that the country is known for. As a lark, I decide to walk in.
I ask for something interesting to the staff, but as usual, they don't respond with anything that I think is interesting. Just something that is on sale.
I'm after something you don't normally see, and you think quite normal and boring, but it's not.
Just like what I hope for tonight.
Suddenly - I find it. Nestled between the bosoms of the shiraz and the pinot noir.
Sparking shiraz. Interesting, I think, I've never heard of the two together.
I imagine what it would be like - the depth of a shiraz, but the bubbles of a champagne? Of a cremant? Probably not as fine, but would it be good enough, or disappointing like American bastard wines?
A good wine, like a good bouquet, helps a woman's desire open up. It unhinges the shackles of propriety, frees the carnal, and accentuates the sexual energy.
Get it right, and the night becomes right.
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I walk into the hotel, the Mandarin Oriental in Hong Kong. The old one, not the new one. The old ways are sometimes the best.
I walk up the marble stone steps, next to the Captain's Bar, and head straight to the elevators next to the small boutique. I always find that small boutique quite charming, purveying old tactile goods like newspapers and magazines, things that you can touch, feel, and smell.
I go up. There are 2 other guys already. It is going to be a rather small affair, I think to myself.
We have a bit of small talk, me opening up the wine and having a drink. I like to savour my wines, so this gives me a chance to taste it first before serving to others.
It is yum again. The bright bubbles of a champagne, with the pinky color and deep tones of a shiraz.
Perhaps a richer blanc de noir would be a worthy comparison.
A knock on the door.
In comes Jas.
A short girl, with a thick body and pointed face, very well put together. Her equally thick full breasts nestled inside her busty bra, the tension ready to be released in a few moments' time. In contrast, her black short skirt that shows her bare legs, drawing the eye upwards from calf to crotch, leaving something, something naughty and salacious, to the imagination.
She appears as if she came from a lunch date with family, or something formal. Not overly formal as in business, but well put together casually.
I like a girl that's well put together on the outside. It makes the anticipation of what's underneath that immaculate outside more fun. To want to break that shell. A challenge to unlock and enjoy each others' sexual energy.
She sits down. I pour her some wine.
Jen is immediately anti-establishment. She talks about life, and mainly education. About how education standards are degrading, how they don't train the young people to think, that they are all sheep.
Oof. So direct.
I'm not usually that up front, preferring first to see how people act, how people think. Observe the surroundings first.
Read the room, as they say. You know, never talk about sex, politics and religion, in polite conversation. Especially when in a room with strangers.
I go along though. "Tell me more."
And you know what - her spark starts to turn me on. Her directness. Her lack of propriety. Of social norms.
You can tell a lot about how someone fucks by how they speak. How they think. How they act.
My attention, in return, turns her on.
She now looks into my eyes as we speak, intimate with my very words, my thoughts, my intentions.
I am almost embarrassed by how much attention she gives me. Her eagerness. Her attention. Her desire.
No, not desire. Need. To fuck.
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I undress Jas, slowly, Miss Dior enveloping me as I unbutton her blouse, button by button. The release of the tension, the tug of the button as it escapes from its hole, the fabric springing and vibrating back to its original shape.
Underneath that prim outfit is indeed that voluminous body, decorated with a black, lacy one piece lingerie.
Then it is the black mini skirt's turn.
One button. One zip. The lingerie lines continue down, teasing the eyes as they lead me down to her crotch, now open and free are her thick, juicy, pussy lips. Juicy indeed, like an oyster waiting to be devoured, with my tongue wanting to probe to find the pearl.
I dig in.
My tongue tenderly touches the bottom of her vagina, where the vagina and the perineum meet, cleanly shaven for tonight's festivities. I lap up, from there to the clit, ensuring that I don't penetrate, but that the flat, large, wide base of my tongue separates her labia lips, like parting a sea of sex.
I repeat again, like a good boy, savouring her sweet vagina and the slightly sweet sex starting to secrete. I pleasure her again with my tongue, upwards, parting those thick labia lips, ending with a bit of a flick of the tongue on the clit now.
She shudders.
I now repeat the same motion but penetrate her vagina with the tip of my tongue, going straight into her tasty pinky vaginal walls, the flat, wide, base of my tongue still moving upwards, parting the labia lips fully now as I go.
Slowly though. Of course slowly. Tantalisingly slowly, as if to explore her every part and every taste.
A cooch tasting.
Her clit reveals itself from its hood, emboldened with desire, wanting a bit of the action.
I comply, now moving upwards after my last lap, pursing my lips as I tease the clit with little sounds of suction.
She loves it.
She drives her mound toward my mouth, her direct moans making sure I know the extant of her pleasure. Meanwhile, the other guys keep her busy, one flanking her with his cock in her hand, the other with his manhood in her mouth.
Jas likes to be a busy girl.
