Vino Rustico (excerpt)

                                        

“That’s a lovely heavy bottle.”

I admired the label-less wine bottle that my lover placed on the rug before us, home made wine from his family.  It was a fine summer afternoon, perfect for a picnic in the depths of my wild garden.  We were surrounded by sword ferns and the last water in the seasonal creek trickled by not too far away.  I lay on my back and gazed happily up at the clear blue sky, framed by maple leaves. 

“This is perfect.  Will you feed me a little of that soft French cheese, my darling?”

Kevin broke off a morsel of crusty bread and scooped some Brie onto it.  I raised my head and let him feed me.  The warmth of the sun made me feel slightly drowsy and more than a little bit aroused.  Deliberately, I had dressed in a rather skimpy top, tight-fitting with lacing that I knew Kevin would enjoy unfastening.

“Care for a glass of vino rustico?”

“I’d love some.”

I swallowed the bite of bread and cheese, savoring the slightly sharp creaminess on my tongue.  Brie always reminds me of the taste of semen.

“Some what?”

“Oh, that too…”

My lover is rather adept at reading my mind.  Lazily, I watched him uncork the bottle and pour the deep red wine into a glass.  I raised myself onto one elbow and made sure Kevin got an expansive view of my cleavage as I accepted the drink.

“Now, let’s see.  It certainly smells good.  Very fruity.”

I sniffed and swirled and placed the glass to my lips.  I took a dainty sip.

“Good heavens!  Firewater!”

Kevin laughed.

“Yes, it’s a little more potent than your average table wine.  I call it purple vodka.”

I took a second sip, rolling the wine around my mouth.  It was strong, all right, but really rather nice.  I giggled.  The afternoon would be well-lubricated…

“I suppose you realize that top is too small for you, don’t you?”

I gazed down at the tiny little top.  My nipples pushed insistently at the fine cotton.  I seemed to have forgotten to put on a bra.

“Oh dear – you’re right, my darling.  It must have shrunk in the wash.  Or my boobs have grown.  What do you think?”

I thrust my cleavage at Kevin, suddenly aware of an interesting sensation at the back of my neck.  The alcohol was kicking in.

“I want you to suck my nipples.”

Kevin rolled over and dipped his head until his face rested in the valley between my boobs.  His tongue crept out and swirled around, leaving a delicate trail of saliva on my sun-warmed flesh.  I threw my head back and the sky seemed bluer than ever.  Purple vodka blue.  I felt his hands tug at my top, easing the cloth up over my naked breasts.  Impatiently I pulled it over my head and took another sip of wine.  I felt incredibly horny.

“Suck me!”

Fiercely, I pushed his head against my chest and he took one nipple between his lips, flicking at its pulsing firmness with the very tip of his tongue.  My pussy moistened in response.  I put out my hand and touched the bulge in his jeans.