Since Trisha and I were going out for a nice dinner, and to meet my sons, I figured we’d take “the nice car,” and not the big Suburban I picked her up in at the airport. As we exited the mudroom into the four-car garage I told her we’d be taking the black car.

“Oh, a Lexus! We have three Lexus lots,” she said, referring to the family car dealerships. “I don’t know much about the cars, but those locations are very profitable.”

“This was Julie’s SUV. She bought it right before she was diagnosed, so it’s basically brand new. I make a point to drive it at least once a week,” I said.

We were meeting the family at one of Oak Valley’s finest restaurants, a steak house called Vines. Being wine country, it had one of the largest and best wine lists in the area, but it was known for its steaks and seafood. Vines is located near the railroad tracks and is in an old early 1900s brick warehouse building and has a very rustic vibe. Contrasting the old brick are the upscale tables and chairs, white linens, and large mural paintings.

I held Trisha’s hand as we walked into the restaurant’s foyer. Noting that we were a bit early, I asked if she’d like to get a drink in the bar after I checked in with the hostess, and she agreed. As we stepped into the large bar area, I saw several couples that I knew and either gave them a wave, a smile, or a slight head nod. Oak Valley is still a small town to the old locals, many of us who have been farming for generations.

Before we could find a table, I heard my name called from the end of the bar. As I looked the thirty feet in the dim light I saw the Shaws, Debbie and Carl. I told Trisha that I needed to say hello to this couple as they were old friends.

“Scott, so great to see you,” said Debbie. Looking at my date she continued, “And you are?” She gave Trish the once over, looking her up and down.

Unfazed, Trisha extended her hand and said confidently, “Scott’s date, I’m Trisha Stewart.”

“Nice to meet you, Trisha,” Debbie said. “I’m Debbie Shaw and this is my husband, Carl.”

I quickly jumped in, unsure where Debbie wanted to take this conversation, “Yes, Debbie was one of my wife’s best friends. In fact, she was a bridesmaid at our wedding,” I told Trish.

Just then I saw Carl wave to someone near the bar entrance. I turned to see my sons and their wives. We quickly said good night to the Shaws and approached my family.

“Boys, this is Trisha Stewart. I’m sure your wives told you about meeting her over margaritas earlier,” I said. “Trish, this is Steve and Greg.”

Everyone exchanged pleasantries, the ladies hugged, and we made our way to the hostess area.

“Trish, you look fabulous, as usual,” said Allie. “That LBD is stunning.”

Allie was right; Trisha looked amazing. She was dressed in a black cocktail dress, and nude high heels, and was accessorized with diamond stud earrings and a diamond bracelet. Her long blonde hair had extra curls tonight. Very traditional, very classy, very sexy.

Knowing what my date was wearing to dinner, I chose a pair of gray glen-plaid slacks with a black dress shirt to compliment her outfit. My vintage 1987 Rolex Submariner, my wedding gift from Julie, was on my left wrist.

As the hostess showed us our table, I suggested that Trisha and I sit in the middle of the table for conversation purposes. Steve and Allie sat on my left, with Greg and Kate on my right. The men all sat on one side, the women on the other. I did this so my boys could look easily at Trish as we all talked.

Knowing that Trisha was an admitted oenophile I suggested she order the wine. This took the table by surprise as I am usually the one with a strong opinion on the wine we should enjoy. I usually suggest a bottle from a winery that buys our grapes, but I figured with the family starting a winery we should try other local wines.

Smiling, Trish said, “Well, my favorite local winery is River Oaks and I love their estate zinfandel. It pairs great with beef, and since this is a steak house it makes sense.”

I looked around the table to see smiles on the kids' faces. They were pleased with her selection. The kids are club members at most of the area wineries, and River Oaks is in their Top Five. They tell me it’s market research for our new winery.

Over the next ninety minutes, our conversations jumped from one thing to the next, we shared four bottles of wine with dinner, and each couple split a dessert.

“Kate, Trish, would you like to use the ladies’ room?” asked Allie. The three women left the table for the powder room.

“Dad, I’m so happy for you,” said Greg. “Trish is great.”

Steve added, “You two have both been smiling all night.”

“I glad you two see the things in Trisha that I do. She is phenomenal,” I told them.

And then Greg said something I’m sure all four of the kids were thinking, “And she has her own money. We don’t have to worry about a woman dating you just for your money.”

“No, you don’t. She told me earlier that the dealerships are worth well over ten million bucks,” I whispered to my sons.

The women soon returned and sat down. Allie talked about how Trisha and I might have met at her wedding to Steve in Santa Barbara four years ago.

“I do recall Gail (Allie’s mother) telling me that the groom's father was a widower. I would have remembered meeting you, Scott,” Trish said.

As Trish spoke, Kate leaned over and whispered something to her husband, Greg. He had a funny look on his face, and then he looked at Trisha and smiled and winked.

Our waiter, Robert, came by the table and asked if we needed anything else. I told him no; I just needed the bill. He looked puzzled. Kate and Allie both looked at me.

“Sir, your bill has been paid,” said Robert. “Mrs. Stewart took care of the tab.”

I looked across the table to see Trisha smiling.

“Scott, I want to thank you for your hospitality this weekend. It has been a wonderful evening meeting your family tonight,” she said.

“Get used to it,” said Allie. “She never lets my mom buy lunch when they go out.”

Everyone exited the restaurant and said our goodbyes in the warm June night. As my sons drove away, I suggested we take a stroll through the downtown area to aid our digestion. I instinctively held hands with Trisha as we walked down the sidewalk and chatted away.

“Your sons are just like you in so many ways. They’re smart, well-spoken, and very handsome,” said the blonde beauty. “Hopefully you can come visit me in Santa Barbara and meet my family soon.”

“I’d like that, but harvest is only about five or six weeks away. Once we start picking grapes, I’ll be working seven days a week until mid-October,” I told her.

We finished our short half-mile stroll and drove back to Rancho Tres Palmas. As we drove under the large metal sign and approached the ranch house, Trish inquired about the name, referring to three palms. I explained that my grandparents’ ranch was called Lone Palm due to the single palm tree that was next to their home. When we built our home in the Mexican architecture style, we agreed the ranch had to be called something in Spanish, and that I wanted to have palm trees as an ode to my grandparents. Tres Palmas just rolled off the tongue the best. And that is why we had three mature palms planted in the middle of the circular driveway when we moved in.

As we undressed, I asked Tricia if she’d like to sit in the spa to relax before bedtime and she agreed. As we snuggled and kissed, the feel of her skin against mine was wonderful. It also helped that we were totally naked in the spa. Before long our sex drive kicked in and our hands were just as active as our lips and the spa was getting hotter and hotter.

“Sit up on the edge and let me give you a blowjob,” Trish said as she slowly stroked my cock.

I moved my towel and sat down on the edge of the spa, ready for some oral pleasure from my busty blonde babe. Trish stood in the spa and then kneeled on the plaster seat.

“Hand me my towel so I can kneel on it,” she said. She folded the towel up and put it underwater on the bench that went around the large circular spa. “There, that’s better. The last thing I need are red knees when I go home.”

As she stroked me, she licked my shaft up and down several times before taking my cock deep down her throat right away. She kept her head down for over five seconds before slowly moving upward. Her tongue went around my mushroom head several times as she massaged my boys.

“Oohhh, that feels so good,” I told her.

She looked me in the eyes and hers sparkled as she was enjoying the experience as much as I was. It could have been four minutes or fourteen minutes, I don’t know, but I knew if she kept licking and sucking, I’d be blowing my load into her warm wet mouth.

“You better stop or I’m going to cum,” I said.

She stopped the blowjob and said, “Isn’t that the point?” with a little laugh. “I want you to cum in my mouth. I want to swallow your load.”

Trish continued with one of the most erotic blowjobs of my life. She was taking her time, alternating between HJ and BJ, and the simple slowness of her actions amped up the experience. At some point one hand went from my balls down to my starfish and she tickled the nerves around my anus from simple contact.

“Holy crap, that feels nice,” was all I muttered as I moaned softly in the dark night. The pool and spa lights illuminated our sexual playground, along with the exterior lights on each side of the master bedroom set of French doors.

“Maybe we should go inside,” she said seductively.

“What did you have in mind?” I asked playfully.

Minutes later, after rinsing off in the large walk-in shower, we were on the bed kissing and caressing each other. Trisha resumed the slow handjob and blowjob, much to my delight. As I lay there, I was ever so thankful I went back to the Kimpton Palomar bar for a second drink that night in Beverly Hills.

Trisha suddenly stopped the blowjob and sat up. “You’re rock hard now. I’d like for you to fuck me, but really slow. No pounding, but a nice sensual slow fuck.”

She didn’t wait for my answer; she simply mounted me in cowgirl. This woman knew what she wanted and how to get it. I looked deep into her eyes, and I could feel something I hadn’t felt since Julie died. I shook that thought out of my head. It’s just the sex, I thought to myself, not wanting to admit I was developing real feelings for Trisha.

We fucked in cowgirl for the entire fifteen minutes. I played with her breasts with my hands, and I teased her nipples with my mouth and tongue. We both were moaning softly at different times. Our slow steady rhythm was our ally because if I had sped up, I’m sure I would have climaxed ten minutes earlier.

I could feel Trisha’s thighs start to shiver as they were against my torso. Then I felt a tightening of her honey pot. I knew what was about to happen.

“I’m going to cum,” she whispered.

I chuckled, “I know, your pussy is twitching.”

“Faster. Go faster now!” Trisha said as she began rocking on my manhood harder and harder.

I started to thrust faster and deeper into her pink pleasure palace. “Yes. Cum for me, baby! Cream my cock,” I said.

Just then her whole body froze for a split second and then shook wildly as she jumped off the cliff. Trisha’s kitty had my cock in a vise as she thrashed around on top of me, her head thrown back as she rode out this long powerful orgasm.

“Oh shit. Oh shit. I’m still cumming,” she stammered as her head fell forward, her long blond hair covering my face.

It was nearly instantaneous; as her pussy relaxed, my cock started shooting cum deep inside of her pink walls. I sounded like a Neanderthal, grunting with each thrust and gusher of jizz.

“Fuck yes!” I yelled. “Holy shit,” I panted, trying to catch my breath.

Trisha had wilted on top of me, her big full tits pressed onto my chest. I wasn’t sure who was doing what, but I could feel someone jerking and twitching from a big orgasm. It was both of us.

Wrapping my arms around her upper body, I pulled her tight. “That was amazing.”

She looked up and when our eyes met, she smiled. “Holy shit is right,” she whispered. “That was amazing.”

I could feel my cock start to shrink and it slid out of her pussy, causing us both to giggle. I soon felt dribbles of our mixed cum on the insides of my thighs. I then noticed how hot and sweaty we both were.

“Why don’t we jump in the shower again to wash up and cool off?” I told her.

As we waited a minute for the shower to warm up, we looked at each other with big stupid grins on our faces. We both were speechless.

“What are you thinking?” Trisha asked.

I took a deep breath and thought about what I was going to say. “I’m thinking you are too good to be true. Am I going to wake up from a dream and be all alone in my bed in the morning?”

Trish smiled and said, “No, you are a dream, Scott Armstrong. I promise I’ll be next to you when you wake up in the morning.”

The End – Chapter Three