“Fruity aromas, subtle peach …” she inhaled deeply, “Perfection.” She swirled the red blend in the glass letting it stain the sides in dusky waterfalls of pure bliss.
As she sipped the red nectar and surveyed the chalet it was hard not to be taken by the view. “The Swiss Alps doctor, very impressive.” From the balcony the full scope of the mountain range was breathtaking. Stoic forests climbed towards the clouds before dissipating into glistening peaks. She leaned against the railing letting her breath escape in white puffs over the landscape.
Her attention was drawn back to the doctor, leaned back in his chair with his mouth slightly agape, staring blankly at the ceiling. A slow trickle of blood trailed from the corner of his mouth.
She studied his limp body with muted interest over the rim of her glass. Despite the sweet aromas there was a slightly tangy aftertaste, it sent a shiver of delight through her.
“1967 was a good year indeed.” She let her fingers slide through his slightly greying locks one last time. “It was a lovely evening with you and, dare I say, an even better night.” She drained the last of the thick honey from her glass. “Let me get this for you. What kind of date would I be to leave you in such a disheveled state?”
She leaned close to the doctor’s smooth skin. He still smelled of musky aftershave and twilight passions. The small trickle of blood smelled just as divine as the sweet nectar of her glass. “I suppose it would.” She whispered gently before letting her tongue indulge in one final taste of the man.
“I must bid you adieu now, can’t be caught with the sun coming up you know.” Her whisper was barely a breath on the mans ear then she was gone.
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