Eau de Vie: chapter three
Balade à cheval
Carl got up early to corral horses for the day’s ride. He and Vie were experienced riders and knew the horses and trails well, but Kate was a beginner, and this would be her first time at the ranch. For the ladies, Carl thought to saddle up the older mares, Luna and Briar, whose temperaments were calm and predictable. That left him to ride Ziara, a young Arabian who was strong and rebellious, a bit of a difficult ride, but also the most beautiful of the bunch. Carl handled her confidently, never giving audience to her temperamental behavior. Though it often took a good half hour or more of his chasing her, Ziara would eventually acquiesce to Carl’s tacking her up.
Today, Ziara was feeling especially defiant, playfully flirting with Carl as he approached her to put on her halter. She seemed to sense that her good behavior was especially important and thus chose to make more of a spectacle than usual. Briefly she would stay in place, allowing Carl to come within an arm’s length, then, at the last moment, would throw her head to the side and gallop off to the far end of the corral. Carl would patiently walk toward her new location, doing his best to make eye contact and sweetly talking to her, hoping to hold her attention until he could throw the lead rope over her neck. For a second time, Carl came within touching distance before Ziara rebelliously sauntered off, this time heading toward the open gate that led to the meadow and hills beyond. The frustration of that open gate! Ziara galloped right to it, then through it, gathering speed until she was past the old orchard and completely out of view. Briefly, there was neither the sound of her hooves nor her calls to the herd - it was impossible to know exactly where she might be. Before long, however, Ziara’s need to connect with Luna and Briar became overwhelming, and she made her plea – a high-pitched whinny. Having revealed her location, Carl headed toward a cluster of oak trees. Ziara was closer than he had imagined, and within minutes, he emerged from the trees, victorious, leading Ziara back to the corral.
Carl had done this dance with Ziara many times, nearly every Sunday before her weekly ride, in fact, and each time, he won the stand-off. It just took a bit of his tiring her out and allowing her separation anxiety from the herd to build.
Though Ziara gave the impression of not wanting to be ridden, once she was on the trail, she and Carl became the closest of friends. Ziara enjoyed even the most challenging terrain with him on her back, handling the steep slopes with vigor. Theirs was a special relationship—Ziara and Carl’s—and Carl accepted that this courtship ritual was simply a weekly renewal in establishing boundaries and expectations.
As Carl rounded up and saddled the three horses, Vie invited Kate into the house so she might get dressed in appropriate riding attire. Not a regular rider of horses, Kate arrived sporting a pair of skinny-leg Levi’s, a tank top, and hiking boots, not exactly the best attire for several hours on the trail. Vie chuckled, grabbed Kate’s hand, and led her into the bedroom to consider other options. Though Kate and Vie were polar opposites in terms of body type—Vie was hard, lean, and a bit square in shape with long legs, Kate somewhat curvy and more exaggerated in bosom and hips— Vie had a plethora of riding clothes in the closet for all shapes and sizes. Something was sure to fit. And there were riding boots of all types: dressage boots, classic cowboy, and paddock boots. Over the years, Vie had squirreled away items left by previous guests, by family members who were no more, and then items procured from a local resale shop, namely designer riding clothes—cast-offs brought in by the local landed gentry, who annually replaced expensive wardrobes with more current styles.
In short order, Vie had stylishly attired Kate in black riding tights, a well-worn, oversized Ralph Lauren denim shirt, and a handsome pair of riding boots from her daughter’s days on the high school equestrian team. Both women pulled their hair back to ready it for riding helmets, a necessity on the challenging mountain trails they would be exploring, and added to their ensembles classic Jackie O style sunglasses, pulling these from Vie’s vast collection. Their “look” was rounded out by matching burgundy lip rouge (Vie’s) and accompanied by colorful banter about politics, men, and sex, intermingled with unbridled laughing.
The women hoofed it up the hill, where they met Carl at the barn, along with the three horses he’d readied for riding - all were fed, groomed, and saddled up. After Vie offered a few quick pointers to Kate, and Carl helped her mount the horse, the trio set off into the hills, Vie leading. Carl took up the rear, a position he enjoyed immensely as it gave him the opportunity to watch both women interact. His curiosity had been piqued by Vie’s unusually animated demeanor as of late.
Carl had noticed a marked change in Vie over the last two weeks, really since the first day she met Kate. And Kate - well, he hated to admit it, but she was like an exotic flower—colorful and larger than life in the setting of the ranch, whose native blossoms were exquisite but protectively subtle. Carl had a hard time taking his eyes off of her. In his younger years, he would never have thought to pair off with a woman that overt in appearance and demeanor. Yet now, in his older age, he deeply appreciated and quietly desired those attributes.
Until today, Carl had not allowed himself to imagine Kate beyond her friendship with his wife, not even for the sake of fantasy during his long morning showers. He did, however, allow himself to reimagine his wife, newly blossoming in Kate’s presence. The thought of her with Kate set him tingling, and if Kate’s effect on Vie were to be his only connection to her, that would have been more than enough. Carl was nothing if not loyal. His wife was his one and only, and it mattered little to him what transpired between the women, though admittedly, the spectacle of them together was magical. He could not deny it. Their high-spirited antics and coquettish behavior around one another explained a lot, answering many questions Carl had harbored about Vie for years. Their beauty captivated him. He gathered it up in his mind’s eye like a vase of cymbidium orchid spikes.
Shortly before noon, the riders returned to the barn, sweaty and exhausted from their three-hour excursion. The women sent Carl off to shower and to pick up carry-out, while they untacked and hosed down the horses. Carl was all too happy to be relieved of his duties. He relished the thought of cooling down and getting into a fresh set of clothes and was anxious to get on with lunch, as he was starving. He thought to pick up a spread of Greek foods from a favorite spot downtown, something that would satisfy on this hot summer’s day, so he called in the order before hopping in the shower.
Once the barn work was done, Kate and Vie headed back to the house. Vie poured them both a tall glass of iced tea, and briefly, they stretched out on chaise lounges in the shade under the eaves. The shade, in tandem with a gentle breeze, had the women cooled off in short order. It was then decided they should enjoy an outdoor shower, and quickly, before Carl returned with lunch. Kate pulled out her portable speaker and cued up a summery bossa nova set, then the women helped each other take off their gear, in particular, the tight-fitting boots and riding tights, which clung stubbornly to sweaty skin. After peeling off the remaining parts of their clothing, Vie tossed Kate her white robe from the back of the bedroom door and then took Carl’s down for herself.
The exit to the outdoor shower was through the main bathroom, the shower situated on the west deck. Trellises wrapped around the shower platform on three sides and overhead and were covered thickly with magenta bougainvillea in full bloom. The fourth side of the shower opened wide, inviting spectacular mountain views into this erotic tableau. Kate hung her portable speaker on the trellis, then cued up the third movement of Rachmaninoff’s Symphony #2, whose soaring melodies harmonized flawlessly with the setting.
The trellised stall had two showerheads, and Vie had seen to outfitting both areas with herby body washes and shampoo, as well as all manner of loofahs and post-shower moisturizers. The women set to work getting cleaned up, conversation temporarily quieted as they enjoyed the soaring melodies of the Rachmaninoff and the steamy invigorating water. Part way through, Vie suggested they do an exchange, using the loofahs on each other’s otherwise unreachable back sides. Vie, normally shy and private about her ablutions, was the first to start the exchange, lathering up Kate’s shoulders, back, buttocks, and thighs, then gently and with a circular motion, meticulously scrubbing all areas with a linen loofah. When the work was complete, she took the showerhead in hand and carefully rinsed all soap off Kate. Kate then followed her lead to a tee, spending a bit more time on Vie’s neck and arms as these seemed in need of extra attention.
Once both women were thoroughly clean and exfoliated, they turned off their respective showerheads, toweled off, then soothed each other’s skin with lotion, each helping the other with areas not easily reached. Muscles became relaxed from the gentle petting, and senses awakened by the intoxicating scent of the lotion, the ocean breeze, and the expansive mountain setting against azure skies. Both women felt a wave of anticipation – neither sure of what would come next.
There was an innocent beauty to the moment as their softened eyes feasted on fully exposed physiques in this most natural of settings. Neither knew quite what to do with these sensations and feelings, though the tender impasse quickly resolved itself when Carl’s noisy truck could be heard coming up the road and turning toward the house. Kate cut the music, and both women quickly donned their robes, both scuttling into the kitchen to put out the lunch.
Entering through the back door, Carl proudly set two overflowing bags of food on the counter, one with the Greek carry-out, the other with fruit from the farmers market - cherries, melons, and assorted stone fruits. Kate set to unpacking the fruit, offering to cut it up and make a fruit tray. Vie pulled out serving dishes for the miscellaneous Mediterranean delicacies - Greek salad, assorted dips and olives, lamb souvlaki, falafel, and toasted lavash. Carl set the table and took care of the beverages. In no time, a huge feast was laid out on the big round table - enough food for both lunch and dinner – perfect, as it was now nearly 3:00 p.m.
Carl was delighted to be dining with two beautiful women, both minimally attired in light summer robes, smooth legs, breasts au naturel, and painted toenails being the main attractions. Add to that the lively, engaging banter that seemed part of every interaction between Kate and Vie. The topic du jour: every boyfriend from before either became a married woman - their positive attributes and the flaws that left them in the rearview mirror. Were any of them still alive? Who did they marry? Were any of them rich? Who was best in bed? Carl said nothing, though all of this was thoroughly entertaining to him. Much of their talk had him blushing and, truth be told, tingling a bit in his nether regions. He’d never heard Vie so animated, nor was he aware of even half of these mentioned lovers, one of whom was a woman - a past employer. Were he not present, what would Vie be saying about him? He was dying to know - so he asked.
“Carl! Do you want me to say this right in front of Kate? I don’t think I can do that,” she said. Then, with a smile, she leaned in toward Kate and said: “Carl was the keeper amongst the lot of them. Let’s just say this, he doesn’t hesitate to lick out the mustard jar, and well, he’s got the goods, in abundance. I’ll leave it at that.” She winked. At him. Carl, in listening to his wife’s uncharacteristic boldness in saying all of this out loud, especially to a first-time guest and someone she had known for less than two weeks - well… Carl found it to be a bit shocking. But, truth be told, he loved it. He chose to imagine that going forward, Kate would always think of him in this way, i.e. well-hung, for whatever that was worth.
As Carl cleared the table and put leftovers in the fridge, Vie spread out a thick quilt on the living room floor and scattered about all the pillows from the couches. Everyone was exhausted; surely it was time for a late afternoon nap, she suggested. While Carl was still in the kitchen, the ladies got situated, each grabbing a pillow, then laying on their sides facing one another, cradling each other’s hands, breasts spilling out ever so slightly from their robes. Carl shortly arrived to the living room bearing a large platter of assorted baklava, which he’d thoughtfully cut into bitesize pieces and interspersed with chocolate-covered almonds. The scene to which he arrived: beguiling. Kate invited him to sit at the top of the blanket so he would be within reach to hand-feed them the sweets. He liked this arrangement. Why hadn’t he thought of that?
The view from where Carl sat was exquisite, and the feel of each woman’s mouth on his fingertips, unbearably light and moist. The women, entranced as they were with each other, seemed completely unaware of their effect on Carl. Once the women were satiated, Carl set the platter on the window ledge, then laid down a pillow at the top of the blanket, reclining near their heads and within reach of their female fragrances.
All fell into a deep slumber. When they awoke, it was to a dark sky, the sun having set hours ago. Kate reluctantly headed home, as she had work the next morning.