Weekend at the Vineyard Pt. 01

"Weekend at the Vineyard"

Part 1: The Private Tasting

A secluded, adults-only wine estate tucked into the hills of Northern California. Elegant, indulgent, and discreet - known quietly among certain couples for its after-hours activities. Me and my wife Natasha are there for a romantic getaway... and something a little more.

Daphne is a mysterious, sensual hostess of the estate. Mid-forties, elegant curves, black hair pinned up, a knowing smile. She has clearly seen and done everything - and enjoys guiding others there.

Julien is her quiet, intense European partner - tall, silver-streaked hair, dark eyes. Watchful, dominant, precise. Says little... but when he speaks, it lands.

On our second evening at the vineyard, Daphne invited us both to a private tasting. Wine flows. Flirtation builds. A whispered offer is made. Julien wants to watch Daphne guide Natasha into something new... something she's only fantasized about before.

The tasting room was nothing like the rest of the estate.

Outside, everything was sunlit terraces and polished glasses. Inside here - it was shadows and velvet. Low lights. A fireplace burning in the corner. And one long, polished wood table with four glasses already poured.

Daphne waited for us there.

She wore a long black slip dress that barely clung to her body, her dark hair swept back from her neck, lips painted the colour of ripe plums. She smiled as we entered, but her eyes were already on my wife.

"You look like you'd enjoy something... more complex tonight," she said, voice honey smooth. "Something full-bodied. Rich. Lingering."

Natasha laughed softly, a little breathless already, then glanced at me. I could tell she felt it too - that hum in the air. The sense that this was not just wine.

Julien appeared without a word, tall and watchful, placing his strong hands on Daphne's shoulders. She didn't flinch. She leaned into them, then nodded at the two empty chairs.

"Sit. Drink. Let's talk about flavour. Depth. And surrender."

We both sat.

The wine was incredible. Deep, dark, earthy. One glass led to another. Then Daphne began asking questions--not about wine, but about pleasure.

"What haven't you tried yet?" she asked Natasha. "What do you still dream about, but hold back?"

My wife flushed, laughing at first.

Then she said it.

"Anal."

The room stilled.

Daphne's smile widened--slow and wicked.

"And have you ever wanted a woman to guide you through it?"

Natasha hesitated. Then: "Yes."

Daphne rose from her chair, walked around the table, and stood behind Natasha's seat.

"Then I'll be gentle," she whispered, lips brushing her ear. "But not too gentle."

Her hands moved to Natasha's shoulders. Soft. Then firmer. Sliding slowly down her arms. My wife let out the tiniest sigh, her body relaxing back into the touch.

Julien spoke for the first time to me, voice low, accent thick.

"You'll watch. You'll hold her hand. And when she's ready, you'll see her take something she's never taken before."

My cock twitched instantly.

Daphne's hand slid lower - over Natasha's side, across her belly, then down between her thighs. Her legs opened without a word.

"Tell me when to stop," Daphne whispered.

Natasha didn't.

She only moaned.

Daphne took her time.

She didn't undress my wife like someone unwrapping a gift - she did it like someone taking possession. One strap at a time, one button, one soft brush of fingers down her spine. Natasha barely moved, her lips parted, breath shallow, letting it happen.

When Daphne slid the dress from her shoulders, Natasha sat there in nothing but lace panties, thighs pressed together, nipples already hard.

Julien poured another glass of wine and handed it to me silently.

"Drink," he said. "This is for her."

I drank.

Daphne ran her hands over my wife's back, then stepped in front of her, slowly kneeling, placing a kiss just above the curve of her belly.

"First time should always be done with care," Daphne whispered. "But never without want."

She looked at Natasha.

"Do you want this?"

Natasha nodded, voice barely a whisper. "Yes."

Daphne smiled.

"Then I'll start with my fingers."

She helped her onto the plush tasting chaise near the fire--kneeling, ass lifted, her panties tugged down and off. Her pussy was glistening already, but Daphne didn't go there. Not yet.

Her fingers parted the cheeks of my wife's ass gently, her breath warm against the newly exposed skin.

"She's perfect," Daphne murmured, just loud enough for me to hear.

I sat a foot away, glass in one hand, my cock in the other, already stiff, already leaking.

Daphne kissed one cheek, then the other.

Then she spat - slow and deliberate - between them.

The sound made Natasha gasp.

She smeared it in with her fingers, spreading it over the tight, untouched bud between my wife's cheeks. She circled it - softly, teasing.

"She's tight," Daphne said. "But she's going to open for me."

Natasha shivered.

Daphne slid one hand between her legs, dipping into her soaked pussy, then brought her wet fingers back up - coating her asshole in slick warmth.

"Now," she whispered. "You'll feel my finger."

She pressed.

Not in yet - just steady pressure. Teasing the edge. Making her want it.

Natasha moaned, pushing back just slightly.

"Yes," Daphne said. "That's it. Relax. Breathe. Let it in."

The tip slid past the ring.

Natasha gasped - half shock, half pleasure.

I stroked my cock slowly, watching as Daphne worked her finger in deeper, gently twisting, moving, opening her.

Natasha moaned again - louder.

"She's so good," Daphne said. "She's taking it beautifully."

Then she looked at me.

"She's ready for you now," Daphne said, drawing her glistening fingers from my wife's body with a slow, slick pull.

Natasha whimpered - half protest, half desperation - her hips lifting instinctively, aching for something more.

Daphne turned to me. "Come here. And take your time. This is not just sex. This is a gift."

I set the glass aside and moved to the edge of the chaise, kneeling behind my wife. Her body was trembling slightly, still glistening from Daphne's tongue and fingers, her ass open and slick, that tight little bud now wet, stretched... and waiting.

She turned her head toward me, eyes glazed but focused.

"I want it," she whispered. "I want you."

My cock was already slick with my own arousal, and Daphne leaned forward with one last touch - guiding my shaft downward, pressing it gently between her cheeks.

"Breathe," she told Natasha softly. "Let him in slow."

I pressed forward - carefully, reverently - feeling her tightness resist, then yield.

She gasped, fingers clutching the cushion.

I stopped. Just the tip.

She adjusted, breathing through it.

Then she pushed back.

The first inch slid inside.

"Oh my god..." she moaned.

I groaned, gripping her hips, trying not to move too fast, trying not to lose control. Her ass was incredible--hot, tight, clenching around me with every slow pulse.

"That's it," Daphne whispered. "She's taking you so well. Just like that."

Julien said nothing--but I felt his gaze. Watching. Studying. Approving.

I pushed deeper.

She took me.

Bit by bit.

Until I was fully inside her - buried in a place no one had ever been before.

Her body was shaking now, her breaths quick and broken.

But her voice?

"Don't stop."

I began to move.

Slow. Gentle. Sliding in and out of her tightest, most intimate place while Daphne knelt beside her, kissing her shoulder, whispering praise into her ear.

"You're beautiful like this," she said. "So brave. So open for him."

Natasha moaned louder, body trembling, and I knew--she loved it.

I was deeper than ever. And still, she wanted more.

I was still inside her - deep in her ass - when Daphne leaned in and whispered to her, "Do you want to feel both of them?"

Natasha moaned into the cushion, hips twitching, her body pulsing around my cock.

"She's ready," Daphne said, looking over her shoulder. "Julien. Her pussy's been aching for it."

Julien stepped forward. Still hard. Still quiet.

He looked down at her - then at me.

I nodded.

He slid underneath her, between her legs, and slid a finger along her soaked, swollen pussy.

"She's dripping," he murmured. "So full of need."

Daphne reached between my wife's legs, parting her folds, guiding Julien in. His tip pressed to her entrance, as my cock remained buried in her arse.

Natasha gasped. "Oh fuck -- yes -- please -"

He pushed in slowly.

I felt it -- everything - as his cock slid into her pussy, tight around him, her ass clenching tighter around me with every inch.

The moment he bottomed out, her entire body trembled.

"Full," she moaned. "So full..."

Julien paused, buried to the hilt in her.

I was still deep in her ass, unmoving.

And now... she was filled in both holes. Tight. Stretched. Owned.

Daphne knelt beside her, stroking her hair, kissing her shoulder, whispering praise.

"You're being so good," she said softly. "So brave. Taking both like that. Do you feel it? Your husband in your ass... another man in your pussy... you were made for this."

Julien and I began to move--slow, controlled, taking turns.

In.

Out.

Her moans turned feral.

"Oh my god - oh fuck - don't stop - don't stop -"

I was close. Julien too.

Daphne's hand slipped under my wife, stroking her clit in time with my thrusts. She writhed between us - shaking, overwhelmed.

"Cum for us," Daphne whispered. "Cum with both of them inside you."

Natasha let out a cry - sharp and helpless.

And then she came.

Hard.

Her whole body convulsed, every muscle clenching down on both cocks at once, her pussy flooding Julien as her ass milked me in hot, tight spasms.

Julien groaned - and came inside her.

I couldn't hold back.

I thrust deep and filled her ass with my release, both of us spilling into her at the same time, her body taking everything, every drop.

She collapsed onto the cushions--trembling, moaning, glowing.

Used.

Worshipped.

Completely full.

We both stayed still for a moment.

No words.

Just the sound of breath, the soft crackle of the fireplace, and the subtle shudders rolling through my wife's body as she lay there - stuffed full, pulsing around both cocks, her thighs twitching in the afterglow.

Daphne ran a soothing hand down her spine. "She's incredible," she whispered. "You both are."

Then Julien slowly slid out of her pussy.

A soft, wet sound.

Natasha moaned, long and low, as his cum began to leak out of her--thick, warm, trailing in glistening ribbons between her legs.

I was still in her ass.

But not for long.

I pulled out gently, feeling her clench one last time, then release - my own cum following soon after, a mess of cream and slick, sliding down her used pussy to mix with Juliens.

She whimpered at the emptiness.

"Now," Daphne said, voice low and commanding, "clean her, husband."

I dropped to my knees behind her--again.

Her legs were still parted, hips tilted back, both holes glistening with cum.

Used.

Open.

Needing to be worshipped.

I started at her ass.

It was swollen, stretched, my cum leaking from the tight little hole I'd just claimed. I leaned in and licked - slow, wide, reverent.

She gasped at the contact.

I licked again, flattening my tongue against the rim, collecting my own release, swallowing every drop she gave me.

"Good," Daphne whispered, stroking her hair. "Clean your wife."

I moved lower.

Her pussy was a mess.

Julien had filled her deeply, and now it was pouring out of her in slow, sticky streams. I licked up from her thighs first - following the trail - then pressed my mouth to her centre.

She moaned again, breath shaky.

I licked everything - his cum, her wetness, the combined taste of their bodies. I pushed my tongue gently into her, drinking from her like it was my final devotion.

"You're so filthy," Daphne said softly. "And so perfect."

Natasha trembled with every lick, twitching, breath caught in her throat. But she did not stop me. Not once.

When I finally pulled back - mouth dripping, chin soaked - Daphne cupped my wife's cheek and whispered, "You gave yourself tonight. And he loved every second of it."

Natasha smiled, eyes glassy.

And nodded.