‘Wine is one of the most civilized things in the world and one of the most natural things of the world that has been brought to the greatest perfection, and it offers a greater range for enjoyment and appreciation than, possibly, any other purely sensory thing.’
– Ernest Hemingway
In another life, I am trying to write a wine tasting blog. The tasting is particularly enjoyable but the description is proving to be somewhat harder. How do you describe a flavour when you’re not certain what it is? Well, you fall back on euphemism and cliche! And as I described a recent wine as having a flavour that ‘filled my mouth deliciously and persisted long after I had swallowed,’ I realised that I had found a perfect basis for a Euph Off story!
So here for your pleasure is a ridiculous story, inspired as much by rubbish erotic fiction as it is by the floral and enthusiastic wine tasting of Jilly Goolden, a BBC wine critic that I watched in great amusement in the 90s!
Jilly swirled the vessel in her hand, watching the wine’s legs slip down the angled sides of the glass. Holding it up, she peered through at another set of legs that were causing her mouth to water in anticipation – the strong, muscular calves of her companion and his tanned thighs that could have been carved from the oak barrels that surrounded them. She suspected that he was the perfect vintage; mature enough to have body and thrust, but still fresh and light. He may benefit from a few more years laying down but she was confident that he would not be spoiled by this early tasting.
He had been eagerly open to her advances but she was experienced enough to recognise how much could be gained by letting him breath and warm before sampling. She had deliberately heated her cellar to warmer than room temperature. Sommeliers may swoon at her unorthodox approach, but she knew that the red wine would cope and she wanted him naked. As it was, she wondered if it was too cool – his nipples looked hard enough to cut glass!
She began to observe him more intently. He had sunk into one of the armchairs and was staring shyly back at her. Under her critical gaze, a faint blush on his cheeks deepened and he began to squirm in his seat. To her delight, the vessel she had been most looking forward to tasting also responded, rising thick and tall like a veritable Nebuchadnezzar between his thighs. He stroked it gently, encouraging his purple pipe to full maturity as she watched. This would really stretch her descriptive vocabulary, particularly as she knew of several other vintners who would be interested in her tasting notes!
Kneeling in front of him, she buried her face in the tangle of curls that bordered the flagon in his hands. Inhaling deeply, her well-trained nose picked out the different notes within his scent – musky, sharp and with a hint of salt. Delicious. Mouthwatering. Swirling her nose to release more of his aroma, she drank him in until he filled her lungs.
Finally ready to taste, she dipped her head and, with a large first mouthful, took his magnum deep into her throat. Mmm, oh yes, ooh, this was wonderful! Full bodied and complex, there was a sharpness that delighted her palate. Twisting and rocking up and down, his flavour spilled out and, with her diligent and thorough tasting, she isolated notes of warm spice and a surprisingly complementary fruitiness that was as charming as it was rare. His moans of pleasure enhanced her enjoyment at this unique sampling, and she rubbed her tongue along his organ, sucking and licking alternately to coax more and more from him until, with a gasp, he flooded her mouth with his ambrosial nectar. She swallowed, savouring the aftertaste that lingered on her palate with delicious warmth and clarity.
Oh yes, he was a vintage that she looked forward to tasting again…