MEADOWOOD 1 - TRIP TO THE WINE COUNTRY
I discovered Meadowood quite by accident when, with a good friend of mine attending a convention, we decided to extend the convention time a few days by visiting the wine country in Napa Valley. We did not have reservations and that fact lead to us discovering Meadowood. So
upon my return home, I immediately INSISTED that Mom and Dad check it out and it became a "regular haunt" of theirs and at times some of the family were allowed to enjoy that truly enchanting and very romantic place... this is my memories of that discovery... where as
"coincidence" would have it, Harry and I stayed in the same room on an amazing, very memorable weekend this year.
We arrived there quite by accident one summer weekday. Our trip to San Francisco had come to an end and we were confronted by the decision to let Harry make the 6 hour drive down to Southern California or extend our time together just a bit longer. I did not have to be back to
work until Thursday. Harry did not want to go back to work until necessary. Fortunately he had the ability to make such a decision about his work since he worked for himself. His staff was cracker jack and I often complained about the terrifically long hours he put in. So an extra day tagged onto a business trip or a convention was not only deserved but was quite cricket. And this time *I* approved of his work habits.
So on Sunday afternoon we decided our destination would be Napa Valley and the wine country. Frankly I was quite nervous about the lack of any reservations but Harry seemed not bothered in the least as business often pulls you into situations where planning is not possible, so you learn to react and cope on the spot. Besides, when is a vacation a vacation? When you have places and dates to be it’s more like work.
My grandfather used to tell me a vacation is only when you go and have no reservations so you have no place to be, no schedule to keep, no agenda to follow....that, Paw always said, was the only way to go and the only definition for a vacation. I loved my grandfather so it was seldom that I ever forgot any of his advice. Still I was very uncomfortable.
We left the White Swan on Post near Powell in San Francisco to go to the Alta Mira Hotel in Sausalito for brunch. The Alt Mira is straight out of the imagination of someone like Charles Dickens, as it is perfect. It is above downtown Sausalito tucked away on the mountain side so
you cannot see it from the city, nor can you see Sausalito from it. Yet you have this indescribable panoramic view of San Francisco, San Francisco Bay with Alcatraz in the middle of it. Viewing from left to right as you sit out on the veranda, you view the peninsula containing
Tiberon and Belvedere, off beyond them is a bridge you can barely see leading to the Richmond, Berkeley, Oakland side of the bay. The Bay Bridge is clearly seen with it’s single stop at Treasure Island between it's beginning in San Francisco and it's terminus in Emeryville.
One of the memories generated from my seated view from the Alta Mira toward the east bay are my high school days in the Big League Softball program of Little League. My Dad was the coach with his good friend Brad Thomas... actually to tell the truth my Dad's organizational skills
were noteworthy, but I doubt if he really could tell the difference between cricket, baseball and softball if really pushed. He was a blood and guts football man who retired into the "nice" sport of Rugby and when I was growing up, constantly complained that he was not an Australian because he adored Aussie football. But organizing and scouting and picking players... apparently Daddy was as good as there was. But Brad knew baseball... softball.... he played for a Pittsburgh
Pirates Triple-A club in his youth. So what Dad lacked, Brad provided and vice-versa. Pinole on Highway 4 was one of three softball programs on the 16-18 year level to excel. A Lefebvre, brother of the Dodger's player, coached up there. The other programs which excelled was ours in Glendale and the program in Hawthorne, Ca. Over an eight year period, one of the three programs sent the Western Regional representative to the World Series held annually in Indianapolis, Indiana. One of my teams went, I was 16. We finished second losing in the bottom of the 8th inning in the rubber game against a Michigan team. Later, my sister Meg was on two teams that went to the World Series, she won the series once, finished second once. Brad and Dad took five teams to the World Series in the eight years that they coached on that age level. Twice, we came to Pinole for the Western Regional and once for a big Memorial Day weekend tourney in Pinole. We have marvelous memories and they are recalled each time I sit at the Alta Mira Hotel.
Sausalito is just 20 minutes from downtown San Francisco across the Golden Gate Bridge. Harry had asked me to be his date to this International Convention held at the Hilton Hotel
and Mosconi Center. He is prominent in his field, single and frankly told me he wanted a "neck turner" on his arm to make sure people would remember him, even those who'd have preferred not to remember him. So we agreed that I would dress professionally if scantily; properly but with flair and some style; unusually if with a conservative bent. I was in heaven. Besides, Harry has been one of my oldest male friends as we met when I was in college and he was beginning his business venture. He was my favorite lover in college. There were a few I preferred sexually but none I preferred for conversation, concern, humor and gentlemenliness. Would I marry him? I might... but he has never asked and until he has someone else serious in his life, I'll wait. Besides we both like the freedom associated with being single.
At the convention, we had a wonderful time and over a five day period, I had fifteen costume changes. I really almost felt as if I were in the movies or on stage. But it was great fun and we were a very, very popular couple. The boat trip - a mixer - is a story for another time but you must remind me to tell that story some time.
On Sunday, we both went to mass at Notre Dame Des Victories which is a great French Church down the street on Bush from the White Swan. Then to Sears for their great dollar pancakes for
breakfast.
Afterward, we packed and I decided to continue the stunning theme or the eye-catching theme of the convention week, after all, I was packed for show and why not enjoy showing off. I wore navy 4" heels, all straps to show off my feet with my shiny red polished nails, my tan feet and legs which led up to a pretty white-belted navy mini skirt with a 3-button front. My midriff and my naval were exposed. I love navels don't you? My upper body was clad only in a long sleeved, scoop neck knit sweater which was white to match the belt and the buttons. It was fleecy. It was just long enough to cover all of my breasts yet not so thick that my "pointers" would not be effective. I felt very sexy. The blue and white combination was quite stunning. I love going without any underwear and today was a day to do just that.
We took off in Harry's Hertz, an American make convertible. The day was glorious, a nip in the air yet warm, a breeze but only very light adding to the bright sunshine. We drove down Geary St to Van Ness and it was during this phase of the trip I unbuttoned all the buttons to my skirt allowing the belt to keep it in place. When I put my heels up on the dash, the skirt folded apart allowing my pussy and anus to enjoy the circulation of the air in the car. It caused Harry to swerve a couple of times as he adjusted his attention between my completely shaved pussy and the road. I felt just glorious. Harry reached under my left thigh to softly rub my labia, wetting his fingers and then sucking on them at the stop on the California Street descent. I smiled as the two young men in the car next to us watched him wide-eyed. It was only then that I realized the passenger in that car probably could see me. My nipples hardened immediately sending little shocks to my button (Ms. Clitty). It was a wonderful ride to the Alta Mira.
We were between cars driving up to Valet. I was sitting properly when a beautiful young man opened my door but I'd failed to re-button my skirt. I was glad that he was there frankly as he reminded me of my condition, including the fact that my thighs were wet with juices. As I set my right leg down on the asphalt, my skirt opened widely framing my bald pussy. He jumped as if shocked by electricity. I smiled feeling a laugh building within me. "Sorry," I blushed, "forgot I'd opened this and, obviously, my panties too. Hope I look okay." By then I'd removed myself from the car to see two other valet boys staring directly at me. I smiled. Briefly pulled my skirt apart once again, looking directly at them, before quickly buttoning the 3 buttons so I'd again look sexy but acceptably dressed for our brunch.
The place was packed and we were told that, in spite of Harry's reservation, we'd have to wait 30 minutes. He ordered himself a Ramos Gin Fizz... oh, I love those things but they make me crazy... so I stuck to Raymond Chardonnay. The dining room and outdoor veranda is to the right of the front door as you climb many steps to enter the hotel, while off to the left is a delightful colorful sun room featuring yellows and whites. It has wonderful wicker furniture and we chose a love seat. We sat near the front window with Harry sitting facing the window to view the bay with all the sail boats, while I sat facing the rest of the room where other guests sat who were
awaiting a table. My legs are particularly tanned and athletically toned. I'd recently run a half marathon so my thighs and calves were stunning, even to me and I am my own worst critic, when I had admired them in the hotel mirror after dressing.
Sexual preferences..... reasons different female body parts appeal to men is a topic I've tried to understand for years. By the time I graduated college, I had danced in a club in the nude for several years. I retired when I grew tired of the demeaning attitudes of many men and became a masseuse. So my exposure to these male preferences was a bit more so than a "normal" college girl's exposure. I never have understood why some prefer breasts, others legs, still others buns so my decision was to forget the “why” of it and just enjoy it. However, why men have so much interest in women's legs and breasts has always fascinated me. Personally I think I'd have a strong preference for other body parts normally not visible. My experience is that most men rate the breasts (whatever they call them... tits, hangers, orbs, pointers, balloons, watermelons, etc) as first in preference; the legs seem to be second; while the derriere or ass or buttocks or butt seem a close third. Now why does that seem to be the case? What about our "crown jewel?" After all it is the "key" to a woman's sexuality? Why is the pussy not number one? My only conclusion is that it is the least of all the popular parts that is seen. This is one of the “whys” I tend to show mine off quite a lot. Besides mine is unique and unusual and gets lots of attention.
Our wait was very enjoyable. Sans panties and in this mini skirt, my entire leg was exposed when I sat on a buttock while crossing the opposite leg over. It was a proper way to sit, certainly no body part that you would not see at a pool or on the beach was exposed, but the place and the degree of exposure did challenge the minds of more than a few men. When we entered, the sun room was half full with the bar full of most of those waiting. Shortly after our arrival and that of another truly stunning blonde who sat near me, the bar emptied and our sun room became standing room only. These changes stimulate my thinking. I knew we girls were the reason for the change that took place and would have enjoyed some of the excuses to move.
Brunch was glorious... we sat at the back of the spacious porch... I was able to sit with my shoulders, neck and head under the shade of the umbrella while my legs and midriff were basking in the sunshine. Our waiter was 20ish, wonderful and very attentive. It seemed to me during our time there, he found a dozen ways to come in contact with me. Most fun was once when he put a leg between mine while pouring coffee rubbing his lower leg seductively against mine. It had a very accidental or innocent look yet we both knew how very intentional it was and by my nipples quickly appeared as if to push their way right thru the fabric of my sweater, he saw the effect that he had on my body. I immediately dropped my napkin, and on retrieving it I rubbed his leg briefly, then while looking up for his reaction showed him the size and shape of my nipples as my sweater tented away from my body. Even with an apron, I enjoyed his response to me. Harry is so cool... he never misses anything when we are together.... yet he never ever complains... it is an unwritten agreement between us. He has been around me enough to know he'll be well rewarded as I always "save the last dance" for him.
We were off shortly. On the ride from Sausalito to Meadowood in St. Helena, we basked in the sun constantly happy that Hertz only had the convertible when he arrived the night before the convention began. I'd been in San Francisco prior to his arrival representing my firm so I simply
moved from my hotel into the White Swan with Harry.
"Candee, grant me a wish!" he said while we waited for the stop signal onto the main drag of Sausalito. "I know from the way you flashed the valet guys and from the brief tease of our waiter, you are feelin' sexy today. Your outfit is dynamite. But would you take off your clothes except for your high heels and put on my starched blue dress shirt for the rest of the drive?"
“Why?" I asked, "You like my outfit and I am comfortable."
"Come on, Candee, you know how I absolutely adore your body. You work so hard to keep your shape and I’ve seen too little of you lately due to busy schedules. Besides, I don't know any other woman who I’d ask to do this - make a fantasy a reality."
"Now? Right here and now?" I challenged with a huff.
"If you are going to get an attitude," Harry said softly while smiling at me, "just do nothing at all.... I guess it was just wishful thinking anyway."
Sausalito is literally an ocean front city. Anything on the right of the main drag as you drive north is water or businesses on pylons in water. The town is built on a mountain side which might be as high as 1500 feet at the top and the mountain just flows down to the main drag and then the ocean across the street. This light is infamously too long. So it had not changed as I managed to remove my sweater to sit topless at the light. While sitting there enjoying the heat of the sun on my sensitive breasts, I pushed my legs out straight in front of me raising my buttocks completely off the seat. I removed my belt and unbuttoned my skirt removing it. For a while, a minute possibly, I simply sat nude there in the open air. People walked by the car crossing the street, but if any of them noticed my condition as I went about folding my clothing carefully so I could place them in the back seat, I didn’t notice. Then I retrieved Harry's shirt. A button-down collar dress shirt, heavily starched with those tails men tuck into their pants. Why don't you men use those tails better as your shirts are mostly out of your pants?
Soon we moved turning left onto the main drag and drove a few blocks slowly, 20 miles an hour is the speed limit, before I finally managed to pull my left arm into the shirt sleeve. I smiled to myself thinking that, more often than not when I was with Harry, I'd either sleep with him totally in the nude or wear one of his dress shirts as my night gown. There was something sexy about the length of it. It is the ultimate tease. The bottom of the shirt is about the length of a mini skirt as it falls just short of mid-thigh. As the shirt was clean, unworn and very highly starched, I knew what I'd be wearing the rest of this day. A woman wearing a man's dress shirt... whether buttoned or unbuttoned... without wearing any thing else other than heels and a smile, can be most alluring. The viewer can never tell or know what is beneath the shirt... and yet they DO too know without any proof. Switching unbuttoned and buttoned buttons can create interesting and changing effects. Imagine a shirt buttoned completely with tie in place just as a man might wear it, the same shirt worn with heels can be almost worn as something formal. Unbutton the top two or three buttons and you find the look quite alluring and provocative. Depending on the turn of a shoulder or the bend at the waist exposures can be very innocent yet teasing or quite overt and exhibitionistic. Now re-button those top buttons to the neck while unbuttoning a few buttons up from the bottom and walking can be extraordinary experience for viewing men when they
approach you, yet the safety of the revelation is brief as you moves by them almost before their mind "clicks" catching up with what the eye saw. Any position while sitting can be a plethora of sensations and views. Actually, Harry KNEW that I loved wearing these shirts as nightgowns or clothing. Why? I would ONLY do it when the man I am with provides the shirt and knows of this attitude of mine.
Since my exhibitionism is unabashed and quite literally a fetish with me, I was in no hurry to cover up my body. Harry loves my nudity and my willingness to show off my body almost at any time and given any circumstance, so he was in heaven. I noticed his cock was moving inside his pants. I thought a blow job on the freeway was a pleasure I'd not allowed myself to enjoy in a while and that I'd never ever given one in daylight in a convertible. It would happen today and I smiled broadly at the prospect.
At a stop light, the second car in line waiting, Harry spotted a police vehicle coming in the opposite direction. "Candee," he whispered urgently, "a cop will pass us soon, better cover
up, I don't want to spend the rest of the day in jail with you." His laughter filled the air and I quickly finished pulling the shirt around me inserting the right arm and buttoning the second and third buttons. Then I turned in the car seat so that my back was against the passenger door, put my left foot up on the seat spread myself so my legs were wide-open for Harry. I knew the police vehicle IF he saw anything would only see my buttoned up shirt and my bare knee and I also knew he'd spend the rest of the day wondering if I really was just wearing a shirt.......
Shortly we were on 101 heading north through San Rafael. My best girl friend in college attended Dominican College and I asked Harry if we could take a quick detour and see what changes had taken place in 6 years. I remembered how rustic the area was and how amazingly beautiful the campus had been. Many weekends, Ann and I would meet in San Francisco for church and breakfast. Then we'd spend one or both days studying together and on Saturday night we'd always wear our "naughty attitudes" so we could play.
Ann was simply stunning in college (still is). At 5'9" and about 130 with enormous areolas, she'd always dress so those tits with her amazing tips could be exposed or seen. She loved wearing see thru white blouses.... those blouses which told the viewer she had something quite extraordinary to see yet not quite enough of a view to know for sure. Between Ann’s areolas and my shaved mostly always wet pussy, we were an amazing team. We met at a mixer party here during our freshman year. Dominican was all-girls and they invited area schools - St. Mary’s College and Santa Clara University among others - to attend. I was the only female from Santa Clara to attend and most of the guys guessed that meant I was a lesbo. After that evening, I don't think Ann and I missed spending more than a few weekends apart during four years of college. Often my roommate, Linda, and Ann's roommate, Lindsy, would join us making our searches to score more challenging. We made a pact in freshmen year...one of the girls got left out and quite hurt one weekend... that if ALL of us could not score, none of us would... and it was a pack we kept. I must admit that, the fact we all became bi-sexual, helped us make weekends that might have been a bit lonely for the lack of intelligent men recognizing we were on the prowl very very satisfying none-the-less. We ALL preferred and prefer men, but speaking for myself, I've never ever turned away a sexy woman interested in intimacy with me. It is welcome!
Ann possessed 36C or 36D-cup breasts... the cup size really was directly affected by her weight as they were the first place she gained weight and also the first place she lost weight. She used to love to wear shear white blouses over a bustier or a vest which do not cover but rather feature the breasts. Normally, in spite of her delicious legs, she'd wear a longer skirt as she did not want to remove the focus of male attention for her breasts. She never wore a bra in spite of her size and she religiously did muscle exercises so that her sag was amazingly minimal. With the corset vest accentuating the white clad breasts her enormous areolae would "bleed" through and I always felt very secondary and quite normal visually when around Ann. It was definitely THE reason I enjoyed being around her so much. In both grade school and high school, *I* was always THE "focus" of any male attention. It was so NICE during those years to play second fiddle and so I only encouraged Ann to be more seductive and more exhibitionistic. Besides it played into my own desires, as she definitely turned me on and she made me wet constantly.
The most outrageous thing Ann did that I think of.... and she was gassed otherwise it would never have happened... occurred in the pub at the end of the Hyde Street cable car where the drink "Irish Coffee" was invented. If you have never been there, it is ALWAYS crowded. We had been there too long one night and gotten a bit tipsy. The bathrooms below street level. When you entered the pub from the corner of Hyde and Beach Streets, there is immediately to your left an extremely steep stairway of about 25 steps down to the restroom level. Many times during their busiest hours, people will be standing on one side of this stair case drinking as they are literally the only spots in the place left to stand.
Ann was in her vest-up-to-below-her-tits outfit with a very thin white blouse covering her 36Ds. Yes, she was near her largest at this time. Ann had this sexy way of standing at the bar, literally resting her breasts on the surface. It was very, very sexy with craning necks working for a way to get a glimpse of those great tits from any and every angle. The bartenders were great to us as long as Ann was showing them. We always bought the first round, yet we never bought another round regardless of the number consumed. In any case, we were done, had taken the cable car from Union Square there and so we needed to get a cable car back to pick up our automobile... and we never made it back when we expected another story.
While in the bathroom, Ann had pulled her breasts free and was admiring them while I relieved myself. We always compared breasts... talked about sensitivity... played with one another. Who was more sensitive did not really matter, we both orgasmed with tit stimulation alone. During my time on the potty these other women went on and on about Ann’s areolas. They were truly amazed by them. When Ann was unexcited or relaxed her areolas were still the size of a CD (computer). Her tits were a flush flesh capped by areolas a darker pink - a beautiful color. Yet when aroused, Ann’s areolas would decrease in diameter feeding into her nipples. So she might change from her normal roughly 4-inch diameter and reduce to 2-1/2 inches while feeding the lengthening nipples. And those nipples were amazing. They were larger than the roundness of my baby finger, probably closer to the size of a man's little finger and when totally aroused at least little finger down to the first knuckle long. My nipples are "pointers" and one of the "features" of my body when I’m turned on sexually, but again and it was obvious to anyone who saw the two of us, I was a distant second to Ann in this department. She was visually quite orgasmic.
As I emerged from my bathroom stall, I was a lot surprised to see one of these strange women suckling on one of Ann's nipples while Ann sucked on the other woman. Soon however the two women - obviously friends - were each attached to one of Ann’s nipples. It was a hot scene. I seized on the opportunity to make a bet with Ann. When two women released Ann’s nipples they are enormously long and extended. It was incredible. I bet her that she didn’t have the guts to climb the stairs to the front door, exit onto the street and walk to the cable car topless.
Ann must have been really flying since her retort was wordless. She unhitched the front of her vest, unbuttoned and removed her blouse, reclosed her vest, put her jacket back over her shoulders as it has been most of the night and smiled. "Ready!!! Candee?" she chortled. It
was an amazing sight as she was so aroused those nipples were easily over an inch in length... startling to see, stunning the eye of anyone looking. Carrying a wide smile on her face, with breasts completely exposed and hanging free, she began the climb to the top. Upon reaching the top, the response from the people who saw her coming up was such that there was a roar in the place when she stood at the top of the steps. Now she could have simply turned to her right and left the place, but instead she stopped turned fully left to face the crowd smiling. This loud noise become a silent in seconds. She looked at me, "Satisfied!" she almost yelled at me then waved saying, "Nightie, night!" to her admirers, turned and was out the door.
Since we were at the terminus of the Hyde Street trolley, a crowd always gathers to await the next car and tonight was no exception even at 1 am. Ann made no attempt to cover her glorious breasts and nipples until she'd walked across the street to the honks and shouts of car owners. I knew she was really enjoying this aspect of her sexuality... (one I enjoyed too as I honestly lead her down the path of exhibitionism in public)... as she always admired my guile and my easy willingness to show off my body.... this was NOT something that Ann normally found easy to do. She did finally cover up, she did not button her jacket but simply put her arms into the sleeves. She looked at me and said, "Candee you stand on the cable car runner directly in front of me, I am going to pay your back for this. That was VERY kewl, I’m so damned HOT." So I did as she requested and during the entire ride back to Union Square Ann had one or more fingers in my pussy or on the lips of my pussy. Sitting next to us most of the way were two European men. They were very nice and we managed to conduct a fairly intelligent conversation with them in spite of the obvious distractions. Ann pushed my mini skirt up so that it sat up around my hips exposing my pussy. The only people who could see this exposure were those sitting immediately to Ann's left and right and the cable car man. The ride back to Union Square definitely took a lot longer than normal and several cable car veterans so stated. Ann and I knew exactly why. From behind me you could see nothing because my much needed overcoat protected me from eyes and the cool ocean air of San Francisco. If you were outside of those sitting beside Ann, they could not see totally as the coat served as a screen. However, a few knew what was going on because of the way one or both of Ann's hands would disappear into my coat. It was not difficult to figure where, once in my coat, her hands were going. It was my first and my last "orgasmic" cable car ride and one I'll never forget as I did nothing to stop Ann nor anything to keep those who were watching from watching. When we started the two Europeans were to my right sitting together, before we were at Union Square, one managed to squeeze himself to Ann's right or my left. When we were about three-quarters of the way to Union Square, one of the men finally decided it was just simply too much to only watch and reached to see if I'd stop him. I did not, I was in a multi-orgasmic state and really did not care at all. When his partner saw this, he sat up on the edge of his seat, half on, half off. He then reached under my coat around to the back of me and began a series of caresses, moving his hand all over my ass, up and down the crack of my ass and eventually I rode the last few blocks of this wild ride with two fingers in my pussy and also with one finger up my asshole. I literally could not walk when we stopped. I almost fell completely to the ground only to be caught by Claude. Gunter also helped and between them I was able to walk to their hotel bar.
Ah, the memories on this trip to Meadowood were amazing and always mostly sexual and I love sharing them with you. Next, I'll tell you about the most sexual, sensual, satisfying week ever spent in a hotel or a resort. Meadowood is truly almost not to be believed.....
I'll have to continue this later... some of my "side trips down alleyways of my memories" have made this much too long...
Part 2 will follow... Kisses, Candee
upon my return home, I immediately INSISTED that Mom and Dad check it out and it became a "regular haunt" of theirs and at times some of the family were allowed to enjoy that truly enchanting and very romantic place... this is my memories of that discovery... where as
"coincidence" would have it, Harry and I stayed in the same room on an amazing, very memorable weekend this year.
We arrived there quite by accident one summer weekday. Our trip to San Francisco had come to an end and we were confronted by the decision to let Harry make the 6 hour drive down to Southern California or extend our time together just a bit longer. I did not have to be back to
work until Thursday. Harry did not want to go back to work until necessary. Fortunately he had the ability to make such a decision about his work since he worked for himself. His staff was cracker jack and I often complained about the terrifically long hours he put in. So an extra day tagged onto a business trip or a convention was not only deserved but was quite cricket. And this time *I* approved of his work habits.
So on Sunday afternoon we decided our destination would be Napa Valley and the wine country. Frankly I was quite nervous about the lack of any reservations but Harry seemed not bothered in the least as business often pulls you into situations where planning is not possible, so you learn to react and cope on the spot. Besides, when is a vacation a vacation? When you have places and dates to be it’s more like work.
My grandfather used to tell me a vacation is only when you go and have no reservations so you have no place to be, no schedule to keep, no agenda to follow....that, Paw always said, was the only way to go and the only definition for a vacation. I loved my grandfather so it was seldom that I ever forgot any of his advice. Still I was very uncomfortable.
We left the White Swan on Post near Powell in San Francisco to go to the Alta Mira Hotel in Sausalito for brunch. The Alt Mira is straight out of the imagination of someone like Charles Dickens, as it is perfect. It is above downtown Sausalito tucked away on the mountain side so
you cannot see it from the city, nor can you see Sausalito from it. Yet you have this indescribable panoramic view of San Francisco, San Francisco Bay with Alcatraz in the middle of it. Viewing from left to right as you sit out on the veranda, you view the peninsula containing
Tiberon and Belvedere, off beyond them is a bridge you can barely see leading to the Richmond, Berkeley, Oakland side of the bay. The Bay Bridge is clearly seen with it’s single stop at Treasure Island between it's beginning in San Francisco and it's terminus in Emeryville.
One of the memories generated from my seated view from the Alta Mira toward the east bay are my high school days in the Big League Softball program of Little League. My Dad was the coach with his good friend Brad Thomas... actually to tell the truth my Dad's organizational skills
were noteworthy, but I doubt if he really could tell the difference between cricket, baseball and softball if really pushed. He was a blood and guts football man who retired into the "nice" sport of Rugby and when I was growing up, constantly complained that he was not an Australian because he adored Aussie football. But organizing and scouting and picking players... apparently Daddy was as good as there was. But Brad knew baseball... softball.... he played for a Pittsburgh
Pirates Triple-A club in his youth. So what Dad lacked, Brad provided and vice-versa. Pinole on Highway 4 was one of three softball programs on the 16-18 year level to excel. A Lefebvre, brother of the Dodger's player, coached up there. The other programs which excelled was ours in Glendale and the program in Hawthorne, Ca. Over an eight year period, one of the three programs sent the Western Regional representative to the World Series held annually in Indianapolis, Indiana. One of my teams went, I was 16. We finished second losing in the bottom of the 8th inning in the rubber game against a Michigan team. Later, my sister Meg was on two teams that went to the World Series, she won the series once, finished second once. Brad and Dad took five teams to the World Series in the eight years that they coached on that age level. Twice, we came to Pinole for the Western Regional and once for a big Memorial Day weekend tourney in Pinole. We have marvelous memories and they are recalled each time I sit at the Alta Mira Hotel.
Sausalito is just 20 minutes from downtown San Francisco across the Golden Gate Bridge. Harry had asked me to be his date to this International Convention held at the Hilton Hotel
and Mosconi Center. He is prominent in his field, single and frankly told me he wanted a "neck turner" on his arm to make sure people would remember him, even those who'd have preferred not to remember him. So we agreed that I would dress professionally if scantily; properly but with flair and some style; unusually if with a conservative bent. I was in heaven. Besides, Harry has been one of my oldest male friends as we met when I was in college and he was beginning his business venture. He was my favorite lover in college. There were a few I preferred sexually but none I preferred for conversation, concern, humor and gentlemenliness. Would I marry him? I might... but he has never asked and until he has someone else serious in his life, I'll wait. Besides we both like the freedom associated with being single.
At the convention, we had a wonderful time and over a five day period, I had fifteen costume changes
On Sunday, we both went to mass at Notre Dame Des Victories which is a great French Church down the street on Bush from the White Swan. Then to Sears for their great dollar pancakes for
breakfast.
Afterward, we packed and I decided to continue the stunning theme or the eye-catching theme of the convention week, after all, I was packed for show and why not enjoy showing off. I wore navy 4" heels, all straps to show off my feet with my shiny red polished nails, my tan feet and legs which led up to a pretty white-belted navy mini skirt with a 3-button front. My midriff and my naval were exposed. I love navels don't you? My upper body was clad only in a long sleeved, scoop neck knit sweater which was white to match the belt and the buttons. It was fleecy. It was just long enough to cover all of my breasts yet not so thick that my "pointers" would not be effective. I felt very sexy. The blue and white combination was quite stunning. I love going without any underwear and today was a day to do just that.
We took off in Harry's Hertz, an American make convertible. The day was glorious, a nip in the air yet warm, a breeze but only very light adding to the bright sunshine. We drove down Geary St to Van Ness and it was during this phase of the trip I unbuttoned all the buttons to my skirt allowing the belt to keep it in place. When I put my heels up on the dash, the skirt folded apart allowing my pussy and anus to enjoy the circulation of the air in the car. It caused Harry to swerve a couple of times as he adjusted his attention between my completely shaved pussy and the road. I felt just glorious. Harry reached under my left thigh to softly rub my labia, wetting his fingers and then sucking on them at the stop on the California Street descent. I smiled as the two young men in the car next to us watched him wide-eyed. It was only then that I realized the passenger in that car probably could see me. My nipples hardened immediately sending little shocks to my button (Ms. Clitty). It was a wonderful ride to the Alta Mira.
We were between cars driving up to Valet. I was sitting properly when a beautiful young man opened my door but I'd failed to re-button my skirt. I was glad that he was there frankly as he reminded me of my condition, including the fact that my thighs were wet with juices. As I set my right leg down on the asphalt, my skirt opened widely framing my bald pussy. He jumped as if shocked by electricity. I smiled feeling a laugh building within me. "Sorry," I blushed, "forgot I'd opened this and, obviously, my panties too. Hope I look okay." By then I'd removed myself from the car to see two other valet boys staring directly at me. I smiled. Briefly pulled my skirt apart once again, looking directly at them, before quickly buttoning the 3 buttons so I'd again look sexy but acceptably dressed for our brunch.
The place was packed and we were told that, in spite of Harry's reservation, we'd have to wait 30 minutes. He ordered himself a Ramos Gin Fizz... oh, I love those things but they make me crazy... so I stuck to Raymond Chardonnay. The dining room and outdoor veranda is to the right of the front door as you climb many steps to enter the hotel, while off to the left is a delightful colorful sun room featuring yellows and whites. It has wonderful wicker furniture and we chose a love seat. We sat near the front window with Harry sitting facing the window to view the bay with all the sail boats, while I sat facing the rest of the room where other guests sat who were
awaiting a table. My legs are particularly tanned and athletically toned. I'd recently run a half marathon so my thighs and calves were stunning, even to me and I am my own worst critic, when I had admired them in the hotel mirror after dressing.
Sexual preferences..... reasons different female body parts appeal to men is a topic I've tried to understand for years. By the time I graduated college, I had danced in a club in the nude for several years. I retired when I grew tired of the demeaning attitudes of many men and became a masseuse. So my exposure to these male preferences was a bit more so than a "normal" college girl's exposure. I never have understood why some prefer breasts, others legs, still others buns so my decision was to forget the “why” of it and just enjoy it. However, why men have so much interest in women's legs and breasts has always fascinated me. Personally I think I'd have a strong preference for other body parts normally not visible. My experience is that most men rate the breasts (whatever they call them... tits, hangers, orbs, pointers, balloons, watermelons, etc) as first in preference; the legs seem to be second; while the derriere or ass or buttocks or butt seem a close third. Now why does that seem to be the case? What about our "crown jewel?" After all it is the "key" to a woman's sexuality? Why is the pussy not number one? My only conclusion is that it is the least of all the popular parts that is seen. This is one of the “whys” I tend to show mine off quite a lot. Besides mine is unique and unusual and gets lots of attention.
Our wait was very enjoyable. Sans panties and in this mini skirt, my entire leg was exposed when I sat on a buttock while crossing the opposite leg over. It was a proper way to sit, certainly no body part that you would not see at a pool or on the beach was exposed, but the place and the degree of exposure did challenge the minds of more than a few men. When we entered, the sun room was half full with the bar full of most of those waiting. Shortly after our arrival and that of another truly stunning blonde who sat near me, the bar emptied and our sun room became standing room only. These changes stimulate my thinking. I knew we girls were the reason for the change that took place and would have enjoyed some of the excuses to move.
Brunch was glorious... we sat at the back of the spacious porch... I was able to sit with my shoulders, neck and head under the shade of the umbrella while my legs and midriff were basking in the sunshine. Our waiter was 20ish, wonderful and very attentive. It seemed to me during our time there, he found a dozen ways to come in contact with me. Most fun was once when he put a leg between mine while pouring coffee rubbing his lower leg seductively against mine. It had a very accidental or innocent look yet we both knew how very intentional it was and by my nipples quickly appeared as if to push their way right thru the fabric of my sweater, he saw the effect that he had on my body. I immediately dropped my napkin, and on retrieving it I rubbed his leg briefly, then while looking up for his reaction showed him the size and shape of my nipples as my sweater tented away from my body. Even with an apron, I enjoyed his response to me. Harry is so cool... he never misses anything when we are together.... yet he never ever complains... it is an unwritten agreement between us. He has been around me enough to know he'll be well rewarded as I always "save the last dance" for him.
We were off shortly. On the ride from Sausalito to Meadowood in St. Helena, we basked in the sun constantly happy that Hertz only had the convertible when he arrived the night before the convention began. I'd been in San Francisco prior to his arrival representing my firm so I simply
moved from my hotel into the White Swan with Harry.
"Candee, grant me a wish!" he said while we waited for the stop signal onto the main drag of Sausalito. "I know from the way you flashed the valet guys and from the brief tease of our waiter, you are feelin' sexy today. Your outfit is dynamite. But would you take off your clothes except for your high heels and put on my starched blue dress shirt for the rest of the drive?"
“Why?" I asked, "You like my outfit and I am comfortable."
"Come on, Candee, you know how I absolutely adore your body. You work so hard to keep your shape and I’ve seen too little of you lately due to busy schedules. Besides, I don't know any other woman who I’d ask to do this - make a fantasy a reality."
"Now? Right here and now?" I challenged with a huff.
"If you are going to get an attitude," Harry said softly while smiling at me, "just do nothing at all.... I guess it was just wishful thinking anyway."
Sausalito is literally an ocean front city. Anything on the right of the main drag as you drive north is water or businesses on pylons in water. The town is built on a mountain side which might be as high as 1500 feet at the top and the mountain just flows down to the main drag and then the ocean across the street. This light is infamously too long. So it had not changed as I managed to remove my sweater to sit topless at the light. While sitting there enjoying the heat of the sun on my sensitive breasts, I pushed my legs out straight in front of me raising my buttocks completely off the seat. I removed my belt and unbuttoned my skirt removing it. For a while, a minute possibly, I simply sat nude there in the open air. People walked by the car crossing the street, but if any of them noticed my condition as I went about folding my clothing carefully so I could place them in the back seat, I didn’t notice. Then I retrieved Harry's shirt. A button-down collar dress shirt, heavily starched with those tails men tuck into their pants. Why don't you men use those tails better as your shirts are mostly out of your pants?
Soon we moved turning left onto the main drag and drove a few blocks slowly, 20 miles an hour is the speed limit, before I finally managed to pull my left arm into the shirt sleeve. I smiled to myself thinking that, more often than not when I was with Harry, I'd either sleep with him totally in the nude or wear one of his dress shirts as my night gown. There was something sexy about the length of it. It is the ultimate tease. The bottom of the shirt is about the length of a mini skirt as it falls just short of mid-thigh. As the shirt was clean, unworn and very highly starched, I knew what I'd be wearing the rest of this day. A woman wearing a man's dress shirt... whether buttoned or unbuttoned... without wearing any thing else other than heels and a smile, can be most alluring. The viewer can never tell or know what is beneath the shirt... and yet they DO too know without any proof. Switching unbuttoned and buttoned buttons can create interesting and changing effects. Imagine a shirt buttoned completely with tie in place just as a man might wear it, the same shirt worn with heels can be almost worn as something formal. Unbutton the top two or three buttons and you find the look quite alluring and provocative. Depending on the turn of a shoulder or the bend at the waist exposures can be very innocent yet teasing or quite overt and exhibitionistic. Now re-button those top buttons to the neck while unbuttoning a few buttons up from the bottom and walking can be extraordinary experience for viewing men when they
approach you, yet the safety of the revelation is brief as you moves by them almost before their mind "clicks" catching up with what the eye saw. Any position while sitting can be a plethora of sensations and views. Actually, Harry KNEW that I loved wearing these shirts as nightgowns or clothing. Why? I would ONLY do it when the man I am with provides the shirt and knows of this attitude of mine.
Since my exhibitionism is unabashed and quite literally a fetish with me, I was in no hurry to cover up my body. Harry loves my nudity and my willingness to show off my body almost at any time and given any circumstance, so he was in heaven. I noticed his cock was moving inside his pants. I thought a blow job on the freeway was a pleasure I'd not allowed myself to enjoy in a while and that I'd never ever given one in daylight in a convertible. It would happen today and I smiled broadly at the prospect.
At a stop light, the second car in line waiting, Harry spotted a police vehicle coming in the opposite direction. "Candee," he whispered urgently, "a cop will pass us soon, better cover
up, I don't want to spend the rest of the day in jail with you." His laughter filled the air and I quickly finished pulling the shirt around me inserting the right arm and buttoning the second and third buttons. Then I turned in the car seat so that my back was against the passenger door, put my left foot up on the seat spread myself so my legs were wide-open for Harry. I knew the police vehicle IF he saw anything would only see my buttoned up shirt and my bare knee and I also knew he'd spend the rest of the day wondering if I really was just wearing a shirt.......
Shortly we were on 101 heading north through San Rafael. My best girl friend in college attended Dominican College and I asked Harry if we could take a quick detour and see what changes had taken place in 6 years. I remembered how rustic the area was and how amazingly beautiful the campus had been. Many weekends, Ann and I would meet in San Francisco for church and breakfast. Then we'd spend one or both days studying together and on Saturday night we'd always wear our "naughty attitudes" so we could play.
Ann was simply stunning in college (still is). At 5'9" and about 130 with enormous areolas, she'd always dress so those tits with her amazing tips could be exposed or seen. She loved wearing see thru white blouses.... those blouses which told the viewer she had something quite extraordinary to see yet not quite enough of a view to know for sure. Between Ann’s areolas and my shaved mostly always wet pussy, we were an amazing team. We met at a mixer party here during our freshman year. Dominican was all-girls and they invited area schools - St. Mary’s College and Santa Clara University among others - to attend. I was the only female from Santa Clara to attend and most of the guys guessed that meant I was a lesbo. After that evening, I don't think Ann and I missed spending more than a few weekends apart during four years of college. Often my roommate, Linda, and Ann's roommate, Lindsy, would join us making our searches to score more challenging. We made a pact in freshmen year...one of the girls got left out and quite hurt one weekend... that if ALL of us could not score, none of us would... and it was a pack we kept. I must admit that, the fact we all became bi-sexual, helped us make weekends that might have been a bit lonely for the lack of intelligent men recognizing we were on the prowl very very satisfying none-the-less. We ALL preferred and prefer men, but speaking for myself, I've never ever turned away a sexy woman interested in intimacy with me. It is welcome!
Ann possessed 36C or 36D-cup breasts... the cup size really was directly affected by her weight as they were the first place she gained weight and also the first place she lost weight. She used to love to wear shear white blouses over a bustier or a vest which do not cover but rather feature the breasts. Normally, in spite of her delicious legs, she'd wear a longer skirt as she did not want to remove the focus of male attention for her breasts. She never wore a bra in spite of her size and she religiously did muscle exercises so that her sag was amazingly minimal. With the corset vest accentuating the white clad breasts her enormous areolae would "bleed" through and I always felt very secondary and quite normal visually when around Ann. It was definitely THE reason I enjoyed being around her so much. In both grade school and high school, *I* was always THE "focus" of any male attention. It was so NICE during those years to play second fiddle and so I only encouraged Ann to be more seductive and more exhibitionistic. Besides it played into my own desires, as she definitely turned me on and she made me wet constantly.
The most outrageous thing Ann did that I think of.... and she was gassed otherwise it would never have happened... occurred in the pub at the end of the Hyde Street cable car where the drink "Irish Coffee" was invented. If you have never been there, it is ALWAYS crowded. We had been there too long one night and gotten a bit tipsy. The bathrooms below street level. When you entered the pub from the corner of Hyde and Beach Streets, there is immediately to your left an extremely steep stairway of about 25 steps down to the restroom level. Many times during their busiest hours, people will be standing on one side of this stair case drinking as they are literally the only spots in the place left to stand.
Ann was in her vest-up-to-below-her-tits outfit with a very thin white blouse covering her 36Ds. Yes, she was near her largest at this time. Ann had this sexy way of standing at the bar, literally resting her breasts on the surface. It was very, very sexy with craning necks working for a way to get a glimpse of those great tits from any and every angle. The bartenders were great to us as long as Ann was showing them. We always bought the first round, yet we never bought another round regardless of the number consumed. In any case, we were done, had taken the cable car from Union Square there and so we needed to get a cable car back to pick up our automobile... and we never made it back when we expected another story.
While in the bathroom, Ann had pulled her breasts free and was admiring them while I relieved myself. We always compared breasts... talked about sensitivity... played with one another. Who was more sensitive did not really matter, we both orgasmed with tit stimulation alone. During my time on the potty these other women went on and on about Ann’s areolas. They were truly amazed by them. When Ann was unexcited or relaxed her areolas were still the size of a CD (computer). Her tits were a flush flesh capped by areolas a darker pink - a beautiful color. Yet when aroused, Ann’s areolas would decrease in diameter feeding into her nipples. So she might change from her normal roughly 4-inch diameter and reduce to 2-1/2 inches while feeding the lengthening nipples. And those nipples were amazing. They were larger than the roundness of my baby finger, probably closer to the size of a man's little finger and when totally aroused at least little finger down to the first knuckle long. My nipples are "pointers" and one of the "features" of my body when I’m turned on sexually, but again and it was obvious to anyone who saw the two of us, I was a distant second to Ann in this department. She was visually quite orgasmic.
As I emerged from my bathroom stall, I was a lot surprised to see one of these strange women suckling on one of Ann's nipples while Ann sucked on the other woman. Soon however the two women - obviously friends - were each attached to one of Ann’s nipples. It was a hot scene. I seized on the opportunity to make a bet with Ann. When two women released Ann’s nipples they are enormously long and extended. It was incredible. I bet her that she didn’t have the guts to climb the stairs to the front door, exit onto the street and walk to the cable car topless.
Ann must have been really flying since her retort was wordless. She unhitched the front of her vest, unbuttoned and removed her blouse, reclosed her vest, put her jacket back over her shoulders as it has been most of the night and smiled. "Ready!!! Candee?" she chortled. It
was an amazing sight as she was so aroused those nipples were easily over an inch in length... startling to see, stunning the eye of anyone looking. Carrying a wide smile on her face, with breasts completely exposed and hanging free, she began the climb to the top. Upon reaching the top, the response from the people who saw her coming up was such that there was a roar in the place when she stood at the top of the steps. Now she could have simply turned to her right and left the place, but instead she stopped turned fully left to face the crowd smiling. This loud noise become a silent in seconds. She looked at me, "Satisfied!" she almost yelled at me then waved saying, "Nightie, night!" to her admirers, turned and was out the door.
Since we were at the terminus of the Hyde Street trolley, a crowd always gathers to await the next car and tonight was no exception even at 1 am. Ann made no attempt to cover her glorious breasts and nipples until she'd walked across the street to the honks and shouts of car owners. I knew she was really enjoying this aspect of her sexuality... (one I enjoyed too as I honestly lead her down the path of exhibitionism in public)... as she always admired my guile and my easy willingness to show off my body.... this was NOT something that Ann normally found easy to do. She did finally cover up, she did not button her jacket but simply put her arms into the sleeves. She looked at me and said, "Candee you stand on the cable car runner directly in front of me, I am going to pay your back for this. That was VERY kewl, I’m so damned HOT." So I did as she requested and during the entire ride back to Union Square Ann had one or more fingers in my pussy or on the lips of my pussy. Sitting next to us most of the way were two European men. They were very nice and we managed to conduct a fairly intelligent conversation with them in spite of the obvious distractions. Ann pushed my mini skirt up so that it sat up around my hips exposing my pussy. The only people who could see this exposure were those sitting immediately to Ann's left and right and the cable car man. The ride back to Union Square definitely took a lot longer than normal and several cable car veterans so stated. Ann and I knew exactly why. From behind me you could see nothing because my much needed overcoat protected me from eyes and the cool ocean air of San Francisco. If you were outside of those sitting beside Ann, they could not see totally as the coat served as a screen. However, a few knew what was going on because of the way one or both of Ann's hands would disappear into my coat. It was not difficult to figure where, once in my coat, her hands were going. It was my first and my last "orgasmic" cable car ride and one I'll never forget as I did nothing to stop Ann nor anything to keep those who were watching from watching. When we started the two Europeans were to my right sitting together, before we were at Union Square, one managed to squeeze himself to Ann's right or my left. When we were about three-quarters of the way to Union Square, one of the men finally decided it was just simply too much to only watch and reached to see if I'd stop him. I did not, I was in a multi-orgasmic state and really did not care at all. When his partner saw this, he sat up on the edge of his seat, half on, half off. He then reached under my coat around to the back of me and began a series of caresses, moving his hand all over my ass, up and down the crack of my ass and eventually I rode the last few blocks of this wild ride with two fingers in my pussy and also with one finger up my asshole. I literally could not walk when we stopped. I almost fell completely to the ground only to be caught by Claude. Gunter also helped and between them I was able to walk to their hotel bar.
Ah, the memories on this trip to Meadowood were amazing and always mostly sexual and I love sharing them with you. Next, I'll tell you about the most sexual, sensual, satisfying week ever spent in a hotel or a resort. Meadowood is truly almost not to be believed.....
I'll have to continue this later... some of my "side trips down alleyways of my memories" have made this much too long...
Part 2 will follow... Kisses, Candee
posted by Candee at 4:36 PM
1 Comments:
Candee.....I do not know where you are, but I still love you and I always will. Don
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