Life Of Paul - Departure Ch. 01

All characters appearing or mentioned in this story are 18 years old or older. This story is a work of fiction and any reference or description to actual persons is unintentional.

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If you are enjoying these stories, leave a comment about what you liked or didn't, or things you want to ready more of. I'll take advice into consideration when I'm working out the next parts of the LoP stories.

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March 1999

As with all good things, my time in southern California was soon drawing down to an end. My house was nearly ready, just another week or two and everything would be finished. Morgan, my real estate agent and occasional bedroom buddy, agreed to take the keys from the workers and hold them for me until I got there. I looked forward to showing her around my house, in more ways than one.

Still, it was strange to be thinking of moving since I thought I would never leave southern California, nor thought my life would have so many women in it that I would willingly be moving away from.

They could always visit, sure, but that was a long way for a booty call or just to hang out. It was a sobering thought.

On the other hand, I wasn't exactly lacking for company in Portland. Aside from Morgan, there was Alina (the high end escort) and even my usual in-town driver Tess whom I've exchanged flirtations with. And, if we ever get to connect, Maryanne the flight attendant. That would be interesting for sure, however schedules never seemed to line up.

When I think about it, it's been an amazing year all around. I bought a house, sold a prototype for a bundle of money, and discovered the joys of a womans loving touch; which basically boiled down to a bunch of awesome sex with many amazing ladies.

But now that my house was done being renovated, and I really don't have a job to quit or anything else, the only thing keeping me in Rancho Hills was the various good-byes I wanted to do before I split.

The more I thought about it though the longer the list grew. It got up to ten names before I decided to write them all down. Then it grew to thirty before I was done. A lot of them were my skating friends, which one large goodbye party would take care of most of them. The ones that were more personal were going to take a bit to go through. But who to start with?

A knock at my apartment door broke me out of my thinking. It was Leila.

"Hey," she greeted me as she walked into my apartment. Her wild, wavy brown hair was down, which meant she wasn't going to work at the hospital today. She sauntered towards the couch and sat down heavily, her DD cup breasts jiggling hypnotically in her purple, low cut crop top.

"My stove is out and I don't have any microwave food, so how about you take me out for dinner?". The short-shorts she was wearing might as well have been a denim thong for as much leg as she was showing. She crossed her legs in a completely intentional and obvious way just to get my attention, smiling with one side of her mouth as she did it.

I smiled back. "Sure, we can go for dinner. There's something I wanted to tell you anyways."

"Oh," she said, raising one eyebrow. "Do I have to wait or can I know now?"

I took the chair next to the couch before I began my rehearsed speech, but suddenly couldn't remember a word of it. Time to ad-lib i guess.

"My house in Portland is ready to move in, so I'm gonna be moving away from here in a few weeks."

Leila's expression changed from amusement to...slightly downtrodden perhaps? We had never made anything official about a relationship, and always kept things casual between us. We each had other people we were physical with, I'm sure, but I could understand how she felt. Leaving Rancho Hills, the place I called home for most of my life, would be hard but only because of the people here.

However, this was the first instance that made me think that perhaps it would also be difficult for those I would be leaving behind. It was another sobering thought to say the least.

"So", she said after a few moments, "do you have an exact date or just keeping it loose?"

I thought about it for a moment. "No, nothing exact," I replied. "I have a fair number of people I want to say bye to, so it will take me a while to work through them."

"In more ways than one, I would imagine," Leila jibbed.

"And are you hoping to be privy to one of those ways," I shot back.

She stood up and headed for the door. "Perhaps," she said. Opening the door, she turned back to face me. "Since you will be departing this fair shit hole of a town soon, I think this dinner you're going to take me to should be more extravagant than some rolled tacos with extra guacamole.

"Find a nice, fancy restaurant, something with a dress code, while I go get changed." With that she exited my apartment and entered her own.

Not one to argue with a woman, I hit the phone book for the nicest place I could find. Turned out that it was not so far away in wine country. The place was on top of a set of hills that overlooked a great distance to the south and west and had wonderful sunset views in addition to the vineyard which the restaurant was a part of.

Calling ahead to make reservations, the woman on the other end sounded a bit huffy. A good sign for a fancy eatery, as I have discovered. After some negotiation and the promise of a very healthy tip, I had a table for two in a private, upstairs garden balcony overlooking wine country with a sunset view. I ran to the ATM and got cash out just in case my card didn't work (there was a daily spending limit after all).

Getting back to my place, I dug around for my best suit (one of two I own). It was the Italian one I got in Portland and the three times I've worn it my companions complimented me on its fit.

After washing up, putting on cologne and getting dressed, I was ready to go. I wanted to dress to impress, since Leila thought she was all that and a bag of chips. I wanted to show her how well I cleaned up so she would perhaps, for once, give me a head turn or two.

While wondering how long I should wait until I knock on Leila's door, a knock came to mine. Answering it I saw a vision of what heaven must look like.

Leila had done her thick, curly hair in a perfect bun style. Her makeup was simple but executed with precision from her lightly smoky eyeshadow to her bright red lips.

Her dress, though, was going to get stares from blind men. It was a strapless black number with a bodice that barely container her full DD breasts, smoothly going down to a skirt with a high slit up the right side that greatly exposed her hip, and a vertical cutout on the front left showed no small amount of hip and upper thigh; more than enough to confirm she could not possibly be wearing any panties. A shawl was draped over one arm, which matched her dress. She finished it with strappy black heels that wrapped up her calf, looking like they belonged to a greek goddess.

I think I was staring for about an hour and a half cause Leila nearly yelled to get my attention.

"Sorry, what?" I said coming out of my daze.

She laughed lightly, which made her breasts jiggle slightly in her dress. "I said, are you OK to drive? Should I get a jacket to cover up?"

"Not on your life," I replied, ogling her fully one more time.

She smiled that crocked smile at me. "Good. I think you look very handsome yourself."

The thought of her thinking I'm handsome made me ridiculously happy for some reason. I shut and locked my door, and offered my arm. "Shall we," I asked.

Draping her shawl around her elbows, she took my arm. "Yes, we shall," she said as we walked to my car.

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It turns out that if you wear an expensive suit, make a reservation and demand the best table without asking the price, and show up with a stunningly gorgeous woman on your arm, no one will bother to check your ID.

As we walked into the dimly lit, stucco covered, Spanish style house, the hostess asked for our names and I told her. Her smile got larger when she saw our reservation. She was very cordial and proper as I shook her hand (and slipped her a c-note) and showed us upstairs to the balcony table.

A bottle of wine was already waiting for us, opened and breathing, as were large glasses which, as I later came to know, were called balloon glasses. All in all, it made me feel a little nervous cause I didn't do fancy often.

Leila, however, was the picture of style and grace and took everything in stride.

"Your waiter will be with you in a few moments," said the hostess. She closed the door on her way out, leaving Leila and I in complete isolation. We couldn't even hear the other patrons below us through the open windows.

"This is awesome," commented Leila. I grabbed the bottle which bore the label of the winery next door and poured her a healthy glass. I did the same and we toasted as the sun just started to touch the top of the mountains in the distance.

A gentle knock came at the door behind us. We waited, not knowing if it was a question or a warning. When the knock came louder, we know.

"Come in," I said clearly.

A woman in her late 20's walked in. She was in a sharply ironed white dress shirt with a black apron that went nearly to the floor.

"Good evening, I'm Sara and I'll be your server this evening. Can I start you off with any appetizers?"

We looked at the menu briefly and ordered something I couldn't pronounce properly. While handing my menu over, I made sure that her hand touched the $100 bill I slid under it. I wanted this evening to go smoothly, and money had a nice way of ensuring that.

"So," Leila started when our server left, "how many people are on our list to say goodbye to?"

Thinking about it, there weren't as many as I'd thought there were. "Maybe 20," I said. "Not counting you that is."

"And how many of those are women," Leila asked, taking a sip of wine. A bright red lipstick impression was left on the glass.

"Maybe 10," I responded.

"I'm surprised," she said, "I'd have thought that number to be much, much higher."

Bringing the wine glass to my lips, I said, "Some of them moved away already. But in all honesty, I prefer to go for quality, not quantity." I took a sip, keeping my expression neutral as the uber-tart taste assaulted my palette.

"Oh, good answer," she said. Leila leaned over, her breasts slightly squished as she leaned against the table. "And, in case you didn't know, I also go for quality over quantity." She leaned over even more and kissed me lightly on the cheek. It got very warm all of the sudden and I could feel my cheeks flush. This was not lost on Leila as she smiled widely at my flushed face.

A knock came at the door again and I told them to come in. Our server, Sara, was back already with the appetizer.

"Damn," Leila commented, "that was quick service. Thank you."

"My pleasure," said Sara. She winked at me as she laid out the plates and food. We ordered our meals and chatted about the near future and how things will be different.

Our meals came out quickly as well, some fancy chicken dinner with sauce drizzled over it, as did another bottle of wine, which our server opened and left on the table.

"If you need anything else," she said, "just pull on this sash; no one can hear you once the doors are closed, and no one will enter if they are. Otherwise, I'll leave you to your meal." Sara winked at me again as she shut the doors, leaving Leila and I to our evening.

The meal was nice and the conversation was good. I don't remember most of it since I kept sneaking glances of Leila in that dress, but I think I got away with it most of the time. We talked more about the future and what to do with it.

"So," she said as we finished our food, "are you going to miss having a neighbor who uses her body to extort food and favors from you?"

"Honestly, yes," I told her. "And I didn't help you for the sex, although thanks for that. I did it cause I wanted to help."

"I know, which is why I wanted to do the sexy stuff," she said. "Gallantry is a huge turn on for me. And, if I'm being honest, once I saw what you had, I was in no way short on being turned on." She leaned over and kissed my cheek again.

"Now," she said, standing, refilling her glass, "let's go stand at the balcony and watch the sunset. You can see down my dress better from behind."

I followed her with my own glass and we watched the sunset. It looked like it was taking forever to dip behind the mountain, which just meant we had more time to enjoy this moment. Plus, Leila was right; I had a much better view down her dress from behind her, especially when she leaned her head back on my shoulder.

After the sun set on the horizon, the patio lights came on over the whole property. Our balcony had very dim lights which looked like torches rather than light bulbs. It lended to the atmosphere of an old Spanish manse.

Leila turned around and faced me fully. "I am going to miss you, you know."

"I know," I told her. "And I'm going to miss you. Who else am I going to be blindsided by in short-shorts wanting me to give them food."

"Well," she said, smiling, "there's always my sister, whom you made quite the impression on."

Ah. Morgan. Yes, that could very much turn into something fun. But that was for later. For now, Leila was in front of me. Like, right in front of me, pressing against my chest and crotch.

"I can see that you like that idea," she teased.

"I like what you're doing," I reassured her. I took another sip of wine and couldn't quite mask the bitter face I made.

"I noticed that you don't really care for the wine," Leila commented.

"It's not my favorite," I confirmed.

She pushed me back a bit, took another sip of hers and set down her glass.

Lifting my arm with my mostly full glass, she dipped two of her fingers deeply into it. While she did this, she raised her left leg and stood her foot on a planter. The action moved her dress far to the side. So much that the slit in her dress was now exposing her smooth, perfect pussy.

Removing her fingers form my wine, she rubbed them along her labia, circling it, making sure that she covered all of her sex with the wine.

"Perhaps," she said, licking her fingers as she finished, "this might improve the taste for you."

I kissed her deeply, our tongues dancing in each others mouths, handed her my wine, and sank to my knees as I tasted Leila's wine soaked pussy.

I will say this; her pussy always tasted awesome, but adding some wine made it amazing. I used only my tongue on her, not wanting to cause issues by putting wine inside her. I licked as far along her labia as I could reach, and as deeply inside her as my tongue would go. I reached around and grasped her ass, pulling her tighter to my face. She placed a hand on the back of my head, encouraging me to go even harder against her.

Looking up briefly, I saw her smile as she took another sip of wine. I went back to my ministrations, sucking hard on her engorged clit and digging my fingers firmly into her ass cheeks.

After a few minutes I felt her hand grasp the back of my head very tightly, pulling my hair a little. I knew she was close, so I added some tongue flicking, pressed my fingers shallowly into her sex, and backed off the pressure a bit until I felt her convulse. After finding her g-spot, her body shook as she came hard.

"Oh, FUCK!" she yelled out from the balcony into the night. I wasn't sure if anyone heard her but I didn't particularly care at the point. I gave her a moment before I gently kissed around her sex, up her stomach a bit and rose back to kiss her firmly on the lips, tasting strongly of wine.

"Holy shit!" she exclaimed as we broke our kiss. "That is one for the record books."

I grabbed the glass and took another sip of wine. "You want to head back now and set a few more records?" I asked.

Leila, smirking, spun me around and pushed me against the stone railing. "We're not done here yet," she said.

Kissing me, I felt her hand reach down and stroke the front of my suit pants, grasping my prominent erection through the thin fabric. She unzipped my pants and fished through my boxers until she extracted all of my long, thick member. She gently started to jack the shaft of my cock as she broke our kiss.

"When you're close to cumming, tell me. I want to see how the wine improves your taste as well."

Sinking down to a squatting position, Leila, one handed as she was still holding her wine, pulled down the top of her dress, letting her DD breasts loose. She then grasped my cock firmly and took the head and first few inches into her hot, moist mouth.

"Holy, fuck," I hissed as she took more and more of my hardened member down her throat. Her mouth and hand movements were in sync, taking me in almost all the way with each stroke. The movements made her incredible breasts sway back and forth hypnotically.

After a few minutes, Leila pulled nearly all the way off of me and slowly, carefully, took my entire length into her mouth and down her throat. Her nose resting on my pelvis, I could feel her tongue massaging the underside of my cock.

"Holy fuck, Leila, that's gonna make me cum," I warned her. She pulled off slightly and then went down all the way again, repeating this for a few strokes. I felt the cum rising in the base of my cock and I warned her I was about to cum.

Leila pulled off of me completely, took her wine glass, and dipped the head and some of the shaft of my cock into her glass. Just as quickly, she took me back into her mouth and sucked and stroked me until I couldn't take it any more.

"Fuck, fuck, oh fuuuuuuck" I breathed loudly. I felt the first spasms of my orgasm and bucked my pelvis into her face. Leila continued to stroke my shaft as her tongue played with the head of my cock in her mouth, flicking it and circling it without mercy as I came.

After I felt like I was finished, she gave a few more confirmation strokes to make sure that I was properly drained. Lifting up off of my deflating member, Leila looked up at me and opened her mouth to reveal the absolute ocean of cum I shot between her lips.

She closed her mouth and swallowed loudly, chasing it down with another gulp of wine.

Rising up, we both caught our breath as we stood there a moment. "Geez," she said, "I can't believe you shoot that much into me when we fuck."

"I can't believe you can pull that much out of me," I said.

She finished her wine and set the glass on the balcony. Her breasts were still exposed but she didn't seem to mind, so the countryside got a nice eye full.

Zipping up my pants, I kissed her deeply. The wine taste overrode everything else, but her tongue still had some playfulness in it after the workout she just gave my cock.

"OK," she said, "pay the check and let's go. I got more plans before you depart this one horse town."

I pulled the sash and a few moments later the server showed up, knocked, and I let her in. Leila decided to just face out to the winery, not bothering to pull up her dress, and kept her back to us as I handed Sara my card to pay the bill. I also gave her another $100 bill to give to the kitchen staff for the excellent meal.

After paying, Leila playfully made a show of stuffing her wonderful tits back into her dress and we left, taking a bottle of wine with us, complements of the house.

On our way home, Leila broke the silence.

"So I was thinking," she started, "Portland isn't that far away, and I would like to visit my sister now and again."

"Yea," I said, encouragingly.

"So if I am in town, how about I give you a call and we can go out. And by out I mean like dinner, movie, bowling, etc."

"Oh," I said mock half-heartedly, "so not just sex?"

"Oh, no, sex will definitely happen," she said brightly, "I just want make sure you stay in practice with showing a girl a good time."