In the Wind of Pleasure

Last month Ted of The Drunken Cyclist won the Monthly Wine Writing Challenge #23 (#MWWC23) and just like all previous winners of the Challenge, his “reward” was to choose the theme for the following Challenge (in this case #MWWC24). He decide on the theme of “Pleasure.” Honestly, I didn’t know how I would approach this theme until I read what Jeff of TheDrunkenCyclist.com wrote: 

Not that I am encouraging any risqué writing this month, but it will be interesting to see who among you go beyond the most obvious aspect of the word.

So here is my story about one wild night of pleasure. I don’t think E.L. James will be shaking in her boots that I will knock her off the best selling lists, but I hope you enjoy.

As she sat in the vineyard, taking in the fresh air, she thought to herself when will

things change for her.  She stretched her tendrils out to absorb the last bit of sun that was dropping below the horizon. She took a breath as the fog rolled in, knowing that the temperature would be dropping soon. The warmth of the day was about to leave. She began to envisioned ways to keep herself warm.  Her mind began to wander to places she wasn’t sure they should. She fell asleep with visions of a special someone rescuing her from the weariness of her day.

She awoke the next morning, disappointed,  as the seductive fog began to recede. Her leaves uncoiled as the heat increased and her stomata unwillingly opened to accept the  fresh carbon dioxide.  As the day progressed, she thought to herself this will be the day. She felt deep down in her roots that today was special.  As she adsorbed the nitrogen and phosphorus from the soil, she could sense today was going to be remarkable.

She wasn’t sure how she knew it, she just did. She felt it in her canes and cordons. Today was the day that would change her life. She couldn’t pinpoint it, because really nothing was different, but her roots were screaming  and she knew she had to listen.

The hours passed by as she sat upon her trellis and waited holding onto her dream.  Her aspirations lowered as the sun sunk below the ocean. She was about to resign and call it a night when she felt a cool breeze. A breeze that was comforting. A breeze that screamed seductiveness. A breeze she couldn’t resist.  A breeze that whispered her name; Sauvignon Blanc.

She heard it the first time but ignored it, thinking she was imagining it. Then she heard it again:  Sauvignon Blanc. She was positive her name was being whispered throughout  the vineyard. She couldn’t control herself. Her pistil stood upright in the breeze as she listened to the murmur that was calling her name.

The wind and whispers continued to intrigue her and she realized how the fullness of her groundcover  warmed her in the cool night. She waited, anticipated, and fascinated about who was calling out to her. A few minutes later, her questions were answered.  His name was Cabernet Franc and his message was clear. She watched as he entered her block and observed that his stamen was impressive. Full of pollen and ready to be shared. She wasn’t stupid though, she had heard of him before. He was a real catch. Other varietals have tried to reel him in, but no one could.  She shivered silently as Cabernet Franc approached. It was at that moment she knew she couldn’t resist him.  She knew she wouldn’t resist him. She knew that the pleasure of one night would stay with her for the rest of her life.

And that is exactly what it was. When she awoke the next morning, he was gone. Her scion ached with the memory, while her trunk reveled in it. One night of sheer pleasure. A pleasure she never thought she would experience, she will now never forget.  As the days passed, she recognized that things were different.  As her canes began to grow and the length of the internodes shortened, she realized her buds  were a bit fuller. A bit more distinctive. She knew then that the most pleasurable night of her life would not only be a memory but would lead to an offspring. An offspring that this world would appreciate more than she herself or the vine that a chance crossing with. A varietal that would be one of the world’s most widely recognized red wine grape varieties and she immediately knew what she would call him. Cabernet Sauvignon would be the new Bordeaux king and may he reign as long as she remembers the pleasure of the night that created him.

~Sláinte!