This story contains: MF, oral, cons.
NOTE:
This story is copyright 1998 by Pulp Fan. Permission is given to repost it, or to put it on free websites, but please don't alter the text. You can contact me at the address in my profile.
We now return you to your regularly scheduled story...
* * * * *
Tom didn't particularly want to go to the wine tasting.
He didn't particularly like wine.
Nor, in all honesty, did he particularly like the host of the event. Unfortunately, said host was also his girlfriend's boss, which explained why he had little choice in the matter.
The invitation had been issued a few weeks before--Jenny's boss, John, was hosting a charity wine tasting at his Lake Forest estate, and the pleasure of their company was requested. A few words from Tom to Jenny on just how pleasant John's company was had brought him an icy rebuke and a few nights of no loving. Though that last bit wasn't so odd these days; while their romance had begun with a great deal of fiery passion, too often lately it seemed they were just going through the motions while they drifted apart, neither knowing how to stop--nor caring enough to stop--the slow but steady ebb of their feelings for each other. Of late, most of the passion in their relationship was spent on arguing with each other, sometimes over the most trivial of matters, rather than on sex. While their screams had once been those of ecstasy, as Tom pierced Jenny body and soul, these days they were generally of a different nature.
Jenny was a vice president of marketing for a large hotel chain, of which John was president. As Jenny had complained to Tom on occasion, if you were a woman at a large corporation, you had to be twice as good to get half as far as a man, and she was determined to get to the top. John, however, had been impressed with her intelligence and perseverance and she had been on a fast track. If Tom thought, from time to time, that Jenny's good looks didn't hurt her any when it came to John's interest in her professionally, he kept those thoughts to himself. He didn't have a death wish, and there was no denying that when it came to hotel marketing, Jenny could ably strut her stuff.
Though he had nothing concrete on which to base his dislike of John, Tom was generally a good judge of character--at least when it came to men--and his opinion of John was far from flattering. He viewed the man as a user, a guy who saw his subordinates as tools--fine tools, expensive tools, tools to be taken care of, to be sure, but nonetheless, just tools, free to be discarded for other tools if the need arose. Not surprisingly, since John had taken an interest in her and more or less championed her way up the corporate ladder, Jenny took a slightly different view of him--sure, he could be tough, but business was business, and you didn't make money or get where John had gotten--where Jenny wished to go--if you were a wimp. As Jenny had essentially told Tom from time to time while arguing with him, Tom was a bright guy, but he was just a construction worker; he didn't really understand all the ins and outs of big business and corporate politics.
When Tom and Jenny had first started dating, she hadn't complained about his job--or the solid physique it had given him. These days...
Tom might have been a blue collar guy, and maybe he didn't have his finger on the pulse of the corporate world, but he did know one thing--he was stuck going to the wine tasting.
* * * * *
"Good to see you again, John," Tom lied, as he shook the man's hand.
"And always good to see you too, Tom," replied John, returning the firm grasp. "Glad you could make it."
In his early fifties, of average height with hair starting to turn gray, John hardly cut an impressive figure from purely a physical standpoint, but Tom couldn't deny that there was some indefinable quality about the man--people noticed him; when he spoke, they listened. Sort of like that investment guy in those old commercials on television, he thought wryly to himself. John had a forceful personality and over the years, had somehow managed to cultivate it, enhance it and, strange as it sounded, practically exude it, until the aura of it cloaked him and lent him a stature difficult to ignore. As Jenny was fond of retorting whenever Tom said anything negative about her boss, Tom was just jealous that he didn't possess the same magnetism.
Jenny was pretty magnetic herself. Though the dress code for the occasion was informal, Jenny looked stunning as always. Her brunette waves were freshly permed, cascading over her shoulders and the silk blouse she was wearing. The tight material clung to her form, highlighting the firm fullness of her breasts. A short skirt revealed tanned, muscular calves and thighs, wrapped around her taut little ass. When Jenny got dolled up like this, Tom had to admit that on that front at least, he was a lucky guy. When they weren't fighting, Jenny had an awesome body and she knew how to use it.
Tom exchanged pleasantries for a few moments with John and the circle of hotel executives gathered around him. Jenny was in her element, schmoozing with her fellow execs. As quickly and politely as he could, Tom excused himself from the little group, as always feeling a twinge of disappointment that Jenny barely acknowledged his leaving--nor cared. However, from past experience, he could almost calculate to the minute when Ernie, the head of development, would try to impress others in the crowd with his knowledge of wine. "This one offers a fresh, slightly fruity nose, with very subtle hints of strawberry and rose petal..." If Tom heard that pretentious snob break into his wine routine one more time, he thought he might teach Ernie that noses could also be broken, swollen and bloody, not just fresh and slightly fruity. None of which would, unfortunately, be good for Jenny's career--though it would provide Tom with some small measure of personal satisfaction.
Tom wandered over to pick up a glass of the event's second wine selection, fluting strains of the classical music being played by the musicians set up on the lower rear balcony of the mansion providing soothing background noise. Though there were over a dozen wines set up on the outdoor bar area, carefully selected to lead the taster on a controlled journey through various of the different types of wines, Tom knew he'd never make it past the third one.
"Wonder if Jenny'd have a fit if I asked for a beer?" he wondered to himself as he walked around the grounds of John's palatial estate. Though John made more than a decent buck at his job, he had made most of his fortune the old fashioned way--he inherited it. His father had founded the hotel chain, and while the family no longer owned the chain outright, Jenny had told Tom from time to time that John's interest was worth in excess of one hundred million dollars. His mansion and its grounds were all one would expect from such excessive wealth. Immaculate lawns stretched seemingly forever, their expanse broken occasionally by carefully trimmed bushes and trees, by gardens featuring a dizzying array of flowers in bloom. Their scent wafted through the air as he walked towards a white gazebo, laying on the shores of a small pond on the estate.
Idly sipping his wine, Tom slumped down on the grass, back against the small structure, cutting off his view and the noise of the party. "Much better," he thought to himself. Casting about, he unearthed a few small pebbles which be began to toss desultorily into the tranquil waters, watching the small splashes as they struck, the ripples spreading across the clear surface of the pond. Time passed in silence as he sat there, watching the waters, the trees across the way swaying slightly in the soft breeze, the birds soaring in the bright blue sky.
"Hi there," came a voice to his side, startling Tom out of his calm reverie. Flustered, he glanced up...and saw her. Later, Tom would rail in frustration that he was never afterwards able to properly express the view that met his eyes in those first few seconds. Maybe it was the sun in the sky behind her, blinding his sight with its brilliance for just a flash, distorting his vision. Maybe it was due to his being startled, or the wine, though he hadn't had that much to drink. Whatever the cause, he looked up and beheld a shimmering vision, a woman clad in a summer dress, face momentarily obscured, appearing for a brief instant like a sun goddess out of some ancient myth, golden rays of illumination seeming to surround her unearthly form. Mouth agape, Tom stared mesmerized, entranced by the apparition before him.
"Hello?" the woman spoke again and the illusion was shattered.
"Uh, hi," Tom managed to stammer in greeting, struggling to his feet.
