The Convenient Wife

“We’ll see about that.”

Bringing her into our quality control room, I sit her down at the table. Starla is grinning, and I can see the excitement in her face.

“Bring it on,” she says, flapping her fingers.

“I was going to go easy on you, but seeing how you’re taunting me, let’s up the ante a little bit, see how good you really are.” Walking to the huge wooden hutch against the back wall, I open the draw and dig around. Finding the red blindfold, I hold it up and wiggle it in the air. “How are you without your eyes?”

“It’s all about the flavor, isn’t it? I don’t need my eyes, all I need is my mouth.” Starla drags her tongue across her bottom lip, her gaze flirting with mine.

My cock throbs with her comment as she nibbles the inside of her cheek. Instantly, I picture her full lips wrapped around my cock, and her cheeks hollowing as she sucks me off. The image is clear, my dick disappearing into her mouth as she flattens her tongue and licks under my shaft.

Stepping up behind her, I wrap the blindfold around her head and tie it tight. Curling my fingers over her shoulders, I lean forward and whisper into her ear. “I can’t wait to see what your mouth can do.”

I feel her shiver, watching goosebumps jump across her skin as the heat off my breath hits her skin. Releasing my grip from her shoulders, I walk away, leaving her with no sight, and a tingle in her belly.

Pouring several small glasses of different flavored whiskey, I set them on the table in front of her. Taking a moment, I watch her quietly, unable to grasp just how beautiful she really is.

I’m not usually taken back like this with a woman, but something about her just hits me differently, and it bothers me that I can’t place it. It’s not normal for me to feel this out of control, but since she walked in my door, I can’t focus on anything but her.

I’m right next her, but I slow my breathing, reaching my hand out and letting it hover right in front of her face. The urge to touch her, to run my fingertips across the curve of her jaw and hold her face in my palm comes over me.

Taking a step back, I pull out the chair to her right and sit down. “Alright,” I say, taking her hand and wrapping her fingers around the first glass. “Tell me what you taste?”

Starla lifts the glass to her face and smells it like I’ve already seen her do. She’s smart, she knows not to go right for it. You want to smell it first, it gives you a chance to sense things you might miss if you just drink it right down.

My eyes scan her lips as she lifts the cup to her mouth and takes a sip. Swirling the liquor around in her cheeks, she swallows slowly.

Fuck, I want to kiss those lips. I want to taste my liquor on her tongue and see how the flavors change in her mouth.

“Well, what do you think?”

“It’s sharp, almost bitter.” She smacks her lips together. “My mouth is dry. It’s a dry whiskey.”

“Good, but that one was easy. Here,” I say, passing her a second glass.

She sniffs it again, repeating her pattern. “This one is peaty, phenolic, almost has a tarry flavor. It’s a firm whiskey.”

“Right again.”

We go back and forth, her sipping, and me trying to trip her up. It doesn’t work, Starla is able to tell me all the under tones, all the fruity flavors or smoky tang of the liquors I give her. I, of course, have tested all the same ones she has, just to make sure a bottle hadn’t been misplaced or labeled wrong.

It is quality control at its finest.

My stomach is hot, pushing the warmth around my body. Starla is flush and giggly, and I find myself laughing beside her.

We’re both buzzed, but hey, it comes with the job.

“Can I take this thing off now?” she asks, gently touching the tie.

“Yeah, you win, I fold.”

“Told ya. Not to brag, but I know my shit.” She smiles easily, and her shoulders relax back as she slouches into her chair.

Picking up the closest bottle at my side, I pour us both another drink. Pushing her cup closer, I hold mine in my hands.

“So, how did you get into whiskey anyway?” Taking a sip, I can’t take my eyes off her.

She gives me another smile. “My dad had a thing for making his own liquor. When I was a kid, he used to let me help make moonshine. I always thought it was amazing how you could take something so simple as corn and barley, and make it into something else. It was fascinating.”