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Rated: ASR · Other · Fantasy · #1830613
Selina has a wine tasting lesson
One word: Day two

I fidgeted with the fringe on my cocktail purse, as I sat on the edge of the accent chair.  I glanced around the neat, small parlor and wondered, “Why did I agree to have dinner with this guy?”  Mansel’s parlor was bathed in warm hues of yellows and moss greens.  The parlor was not very imposing; it seemed like a sanctuary in the forest, covered in golden sunlight.  The earthy colors soothed my nerves by conjuring up images of flora and fauna.

I ran my fingers along the skirt of my navy silk dress, making sure that I wasn’t naked.  Wearing silk made me feel confident, yet the fine thread glided so gently against my skin, I felt naked and exposed.  The silk dress was the only cocktail dressed that fit, as well as the dark color covered up the twenty pounds I gained since the divorce. 

It seemed like hours, but minutes had passed when Mansel brought a tray of appetizers and wine.  The warm appetizer’s aroma filled the room with sausage, cheese and oregano.  My mouth watered, and I grew impatient to savor these morsels. 

“Selina, the steaks are just about done, “Mansel smiled, as he handed me a glass of wine.

I took the red wine sloshed and stained the edges of the glass, “It smells delicious, and so do those appetizers.”

Mansel offered me the tray, and I chose the biggest piece of pizza dough wrapped with cheese.  He watched me maneuver as the food burned my tongue.

“Is it good?” he asked with a smirk.

I nodded and took a swig of wine.  It was merlot; the sour smell of decayed red grapes left a bitter, metal taste on my tongue.  The room temperature wine did nothing to quench the fire on my tongue.  The combination of dead grapes and fire made me cough, and gag.

“Mansel took the glass from me, and admonished, “Wine is to savor, not to chug.”

“Savor?” I asked through my coughs.

“Yes, the essence of wine is something that needs to be experienced by all the senses.”

“I’m sorry, but that wine is strong-“

“No, it’s not strong, it has bite,” Mansel interrupted my excuses, “You need to savor the chocolate over tones.  You love chocolate, no?”

Chocolate had replaced sex, but it was not in that wine.  Perhaps, I had been ignorant to the proper way to drink wine.  I usually chose a white wine that was sweet that I could devour in thirty minutes, and sleep heavily, waking up to an empty bottle.  This idea of savoring wine was new to me.

As Mansel swirled his wine in the glass, he added, “Wine is like life, it is full of bitterness and sweetness.  If you take time to savor the moment, you can appreciate the sweetness in it, but if you run through life, like you devour a glass of wine, you only find the bitterness.”

His words were like hearing diamonds fall and scatter on glass, his voice was soothing.  His words registered in my head, and all I could say was, “Yes, I see.”

He handed me the wine, and instructed, “Put it to your lips, and savor the moment.”

I glanced down into the glass, and the burgundy wine sat still inside, the smell still gave me the image of shriveled, sour grapes.  I wrinkled my nose, and then his hands were over my eyes.

“Don’t look, it prejudices you.  Taste, without looking, Selina.”

I guided the glass to my lips and sucked in the tiniest bit of wine on my tongue.  The wetness filled my mouth, and I held it for a few seconds, and then swallowed.  I didn’t taste anything at first, just warm liquid burning my throat.  His clammy hand was gone, and he smiled at me, putting his finger on my lips, “Shh!”

I waited and then the slightest hint of chocolate surfaced on my tongue, and a smile spread across my face.  He pointed at me, “There, you found the sweetness!”

I smiled back, blushing.  Mansel was a sensual man, and his little wine lesson was tinged with erotica.  I licked my lips tasting the wine that was left there.  Mansel inched closer to me, and I lifted my face into a pout, hoping to feel his lips on mine.  Instead, he wiped the dribble, and smeared my lipstick across my face with a rough swipe of his hand.  I recoiled, and took a breathe.

He handed me the napkin, “I’m sorry, but I messed your makeup.”

I stood up and hurried over to the foyer where I had spotted a mirror.  I was a little breathless at this point and need to calm myself.  In the mirror, I studied myself in my eyes, arrogant and stupid.  I shook my head, as I removed the stain across my cheeks and chin.  I dug in my handbag for my lipstick and I noticed the crystal frame on the table in the foyer.  The sepia photo was faded in the tiny frame.  The woman had a face like an angel, filled with a sweet simplicity that was easy to love.  Her hair hung down in a long braid, and her dress was plain.  She was my opposite; her smile was sweet, and her life so simple.  I had silk dresses, and a life that was a rollercoaster, and nobody loved me.

I was reapplying lipstick, so maybe Mansel would see something he liked; I wouldn’t dare hope to love.  The mirror was a simple wood mirror, and the soft light threw shadows on my face.  I spread my lips, and started to outline my mouth in pink.  As the pink lipstick glided over my lips, my pale face turned a violet, and fangs peeked from my lips, and my voiced tried to scream, but only a hiss emerged exposing a full set of fangs.  I backed away, and felt Mansel’s hands on my arms. 

His face was stitched in a grimace, “You screamed?”

I looked back at the mirror with confidence that he was there to save me from myself.  The image had changed Mansel’s arms around me, and my face was filled with peace.





 



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