Before There Was You

Wine and Roses

Filed under: Human Behaviour — Heather Hand @ 7:49 am

George, Zoe’s unruly, unneutered Llasa Apso, fresh from the groomer, and smelling heavenly, was curled up by the fire. The table was set, the wine was chilled, the sauce was made, the bananas were ready to be flambéed. She only needed to cook the pasta.

Green Palazzo pants, matching blouse and gold high-heeled slippers. Long, red, curly hair loose and flowing half way down her back.

She’d met Jim at a wine-tasting party in Niagara Falls.  She had organized the event and was there with a friend from the office. The party was good as parties go but Zoe was not comfortable with the idea of swirling the wine around, “chewing” it and then spitting it out.  Gross.  So, she did it once and that was it.  The rest of the time, she sipped. 

Jim approached her and they chatted about wine.  He seemed to be all into it but Zoe was not that interested in bouquets and so forth.  Somehow, they ended up talking about what they did for a living.  As it turned out, he was salesman selling automation products to manufacturers.  Oh, he was a salesman all right.  He  latched onto Zoe and never went far from her.

The party was a huge success and Zoe got a lot of praise from her manager for the wonderful work she did in organizing this fete.  Although event planning was not in her job description, she took it on, on a temporary basis, after the event planner left on mat leave.  She didn’t think she’d like it much but she did.  It was fun organizing events.  It’s like having a house party but grander and someone else is paying the bills.  This happened to be a promotion for one of their biggest clients.  They’d come out with a new wine and what better way than with a big media event?

As the evening wore on, Jim asked her if she’d like to go for coffee after the event.  Zoe said it might be quite late as it was her job to stay till the end to make sure there were no surprises.  But, they exchanged cell numbers.

The weekend came and her cell rang early Saturday morning.  It was Jim wanting to know if she was free for dinner.  She said sure and planned on meeting at her favourite Chinese restaurant.  It was a lovely place in a strip mall.  They’d been located there for thirty years.  The food was consistently excellent and the service always friendly.  They ate and laughed and generally had a great time.  When dinner was over, they drove to the lakeshore and walked along the boardwalk, enjoying the cool night air.  He attempted to kiss her but, as he pulled her closer, he felt her stiffen so he released her.  No use rushing it if she’s not ready, he thought.

They agreed to perhaps see one another in a week or two.  He said he’d call.

When she got home, she felt warm and a litle excited.  She changed into her flannels, poured a gin and tonic, lit a joint and felt the calming sensation take hold.  She lay in bed completely relaxed, remembering the evening events and hoping he’d call.

The following Thursday, she got a call at work.  Jim wanted to know if they could have dinner.  She said sure and to arrive Saturday around 7 PM.  She’d cook.  After giving her address, she hung up and smiled to herself.  This time she’d jump him.

The doorbell rang. George leapt to attention, barking.   Her pulse raced as she opened the door.  Jim stood there, carrying a bouquet of roses and a bottle of Mumm’s Champagne.  Her cheeks flushed.

“Come in,” she whispered, pecked him on the cheek and took a whiff of his cologne as their cheeks touched.  She took the flowers, “Thank you.”  Jim followed her to the kitchen carrying the chanpagne.

Meanwhile, George was glad to see him too, by jumping on this right leg and attaching himself to it.  He threw his arms around Zoe and kissed her passionately – all this time George was panting and humping. Zoe yelled at him to behave.  George ignored her.

She took two champagne flutes from the shelf and proceeded to the living room.  Jim poured.  George humped.  “I really must get him neutered” she thought, as they sipped their champagne.  Dinner was ready.  With candles lit and music playing softly they ate slowly, spoke in whispers.

“I thought about you all week,” he murmured.

She smiled and said nothing, not showing all her cards at once.  “It’s good to see you again.”

She got up to go to the kitchen.  He got up and lifted her in his arms. “Later,” he said, fire in his eyes.

George once again planted himself on his right leg.

“Looks like he’s fallen in love with that leg” Jim panted.

He dropped her gently on the bed and himself on her.  George released his leg and pounced on the bed as well, panting and wagging his tail.  Zoe pushed him off the bed with one arm.  He fell with a thud and jumped right back on.  He then proceeded to growl, then bark and pant.  After the third try at pushing him off the bed, Zoe got up, half-threw him in the hall and hurriedly closed the door.

“Now, where were we?” she asked.

They tore at each other’s clothes.  She marveled at his toned body, his full head of dark brown hair. By the look on his face, she surmised he liked what he saw.  They fell into each other’s arms.

George scratched at the door.  When that didn’t work, he barked, then whined.  Then he was silent for a while.  Suddenly, they heard him running from down the hall then throwing himself against the door as if to break it down.  When that didn’t work, he took another running start and pitched himself against the door again.  After the third time, they couldn’t stand the noise and so Zoe let him back in, whereupon he flung himself on the bed between the two of them and remained there.

“This is not going to work,” said Jim.  “We’ll have to wait till he’s asleep but I have to say, he sure watches over you.”

“Yes. Yes he does.” Zoe panted.

They lay there silently for a moment.  Suddenly, Jim turned and grabbed Zoe passionately. “I’m not letting that little fur ball get in our way”.

Later, when she looked to see what George was doing, she half expected him to be smoking a cigarette.  Instead, he was fast asleep.

They didn’t wake till morning.  Zoe was up first and headed for the bathroom, looked in the mirror and let out a groan.  “Gawd, what a sight” She brushed her teeth and stepped in the shower.  The warm water washed over her body.  She poured the shampoo over her hair, massaged her scalp and felt the suds run down her back. Suddenly she felt the shower curtain open and felt his body behind her as his arms wrapped around her.  He took the soap and rubbed it over her warm, wet skin.

She sighed, “Hmmmmm”

He tried to enter her from behind but, instead, he dropped the bar of soap.  As he bent to pick it up, he slipped, his legs shot out from under him and so did hers. They both let out a yelp and lay there in a heap afraid to move in case they had broken something.  After a minute or two, Zoe attempted to rise and, encouraged by her ability to do so, Jim also pulled himself up.

“Oh, shit,” he groaned.

“Are you hurt?” asked Zoe.

“Yeah.  My pride.”

“That shower thing only works in movies.”

“I guess,” he groaned.

Deciding that it’s safer for one person to shower at a time, Jim stepped out of the tub and let Zoe have her turn.  He’d wait.  And wait he did.  Finally she emerged and he stepped in. A half-hour later, makeup and hairdo completed, she grabbed a black turtleneck and gray flannel pants.  Low, black loafers, simple gold loop earrings completed the look.  She was ready.

Meanwhile Jim put on what he wore the night before – gray flannels, taupe crew-necked sweater and blazer.  She looked at him and smiled.  She put her arms around his waist and hugged him.  “I’m sorry you took that fall.  How do you feel?”

“I’m OK.  But thanks for asking. You?” he smiled.

“I had a soft landing,” she giggled.

After feeding George, she grabbed the leash and some plastic bags and the three of them headed out into the cool morning air.  The leaves had turned their magnificent array of reds and golds.  The air was fresh.  Gee, it’s nice having a dog but not so nice having to lift their poop in plastic.  Oh well, it’s no good on the sidewalk.

After breakfast and after having cleaned up the kitchen, they curled up in bed, ostensibly to watch a movie.  George no longer seemed interested in their carryings on.  Good thing, too.  They lay facing each other, naked on the bed.  His hands roamed every inch of her body.  He ran his tongue over every inch of her.

That night they had dinner at Pinoccio Ristorante. While sipping on Merlot Jim said, “You look so good, I’d like to take you right here and now.”

“OK, lets go back to my place, but it’s Sunday.  Tomorrow is work and I need my sleep.”

“As do I,” he responded.  “OK.  Finish your wine and let’s get out of here.”

Once inside her apartment, he grabbed her.  He kissed her, his hands grabbing her breasts through her sweater. He reached his hands under her sweater and pulled it over her head. He unsnapped her bra.  She pulled at his zipper.

Later, while sitting, staring at her he said, “You are some good in bed – or out of it, for that matter.”

“You’re pretty hot yourself, Mr. Stud,” was her reply, but she’d had enough.  Her mind was no longer on lust.  “Let’s shower and then you have to be on your way.  Tomorrow is work.”

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