Over the next week and a half Trisha and I spoke every other night getting to know each other in detail and planning her upcoming visit to Oak Valley.I learned that she had two married sons (25 & 27) and two grandchildren, all living in the Santa Barbara area. Her deceased husband owned several auto dealerships, and she was grooming her sons to take over the business in a few years. She wants to retire at age sixty, in four and a half years.Much to my surprise, Trisha said she was flying in directly to the Oak Valley Regional Airport. There are no commercial air flights into OVRA, but I didn’t want to be pushy and ask too many questions. I assumed she knew someone with a small plane, and it was easier than flying to the larger airport forty miles away, renting a car, etc.**As I pulled into OVRA I noted that I was about fifteen minutes early from the time Trisha thought she’d be arriving. I proceed into the small airport building with various offices and a visitor’s area where people can meet those who fly into the airport.“Scott!” I heard as I entered. Looking to my left I saw Trisha dressed casually in slim jeans, black knee-high boots, and a casual snug v-neck t-shirt. She looked stunning with her long blonde curls flowing over her shoulders.After we shared a hug and kiss, I looked out at the several planes on the tarmac. “Which plane did you fly in on?” I asked pointing at a couple of prop Cessna planes.“The white one on the far left,” she said.My eyes shifted and found the plane she described, a small Lear jet with the Marquis Jet logo, a private plane service. “Whoa, that must have been an expensive flight.”“Not really. I have a membership and there were others flying in for the weekend. This is wine country of course,” Trisha said. “We all fly back late Sunday afternoon.”I filed this bit of information away, grabbed her bag, and we made our way out to my Suburban. It was only 10:30 am so I explained that we’d go straight to the ranch, and then to lunch.As we pulled into “Rancho Tres Palmas” I pointed out the new winery, about two hundred yards away. I drove up the circular driveway and stopped by the front of my house.“This is beautiful, Scott,” she said.“Thanks, my wife, Julie, and I designed and built this about ten years ago,” I told her. “Right before she was diagnosed with cancer. We had lived in town, but after the boys went Konyaaltı Escort off to college, there was no need to be in town for all of their activities.”The large Mexican-style house was built with family and entertaining in mind. It has a large kitchen with commercial appliances, a combo great room and dining room, and the backyard features a pool, spa, outdoor kitchen, and large covered living space off the main house. On the far side of the pool is another small building with two full bathrooms accessible from outside or from the attached guest rooms slash offices. At the time, we were not sure if our sons would return to Oak Valley so Julie designed each of the three additional bedrooms to be on the larger side, and with its own bathroom.“How far are we from town,” Trisha asked.“Only three miles,” I replied.I gave her a quick tour of the house and coyly said, “You have your choice of rooms. You’re invited to stay with me in the master bedroom, or you can have a guest room, which has its own bathroom.”Trisha laughed, “I think we’re past guest rooms after our night in LA.”After settling in a bit, I gave her a quick rundown of what I had planned for today. “We’ll go into town for lunch, and tonight you’ll meet my sons and their wives as we have dinner reservations at 7:00 pm.”“And in the afternoon?” she asked with a smile.Trying to keep a straight face, I said, “The weather is great today, so I thought we could hang out by the pool. Or perhaps adult naked activities.”Giggling, Trisha fired back quickly, “Can’t we do those at the pool?”“I like the way you think,” I said with a wink.**Since Trisha has been to Oak Valley in the past, I skipped the usual tour of downtown I give guests and we went straight to a local’s favorite, Giannoni’s Italian Deli. We each enjoyed a salad during our long lunch as we talked.It was at this time that Trisha told me the truth about her husband’s business. She said she always downplays owning car dealerships because some people get the wrong impression. She explained how her husband was a second-generation dealership owner, but under his guidance, he grew the business from three locations to twenty-one, and from one brand, Ford, to five. All of the dealerships are in the central coast area, from Ventura north to San Luis Obispo. She studied accounting in college and was working Escort Konyaaltı at a CPA firm in Santa Barbara when they got married, and a few years later she became the corporation’s Chief Financial Officer. Her department reviews each dealership’s books, and does all of the corporation’s Payroll and Human Resources.As we drove down the decomposed granite driveway through the vineyards, we said we’d lounge by the pool, enjoy some drinks, and then go to dinner. She said she was a little nervous to meet my family.“When I told them I was having a guest this weekend they insisted. You’re the first woman I’ve had to the house, so they think it’s a big deal,” I told her. “I only told them we met at the bar, not about our hookup.”We were soon poolside and sharing more about our childhoods, our sons and their wives, and our extended families like our brothers and sisters. After about thirty minutes I was feeling the June heat and suggested we get in the pool.I helped Trisha up from her lounger and held her hand as we walked down the steps into the shallow end of the pool. Once we had dipped down to our shoulders to cool off, I pulled her close to me and kissed her passionately. After several kisses, we broke apart and both had big smiles.“I’ve been waiting for you to do that,” she said.“To be honest, I don’t want you to think I invited you here just for sex this weekend. I know our hookup in LA was fueled by lust, but I’ve really enjoyed getting to know you the past two weeks as we’ve talked,” I confided.“Scott, thank you. My sons were worried about me coming here. I told them you were a gentleman. And to be honest, one of them did a background check on you,” Trisha told me. “He gave you the thumbs up. He said there is a ton of stuff about you on the internet.”I laughed. “Yeah, I’m very active in the wine grape community and sit on a lot of boards and committees. And I’m an advisor for both Cal Poly and UC Davis’s grape and wine programs. But enough talking.”I kissed Trisha again and had my hands all over her fifty-five-year-old MILF ass. She slowly stuck a hand down my swimsuit and was massaging my cock. We both were giggling like two kids. My right hand went to her back and popped open her bikini top.“Why don’t we go inside,” Trisha suggested.I didn’t want to wait until the bedroom, so I pulled her over to the living Konyaaltı Escort Bayan room couch and caressed her breasts while I kissed her neck. The short five minutes in the pool resulted in a bit of George Costanza Shrinkage on my sixty-year-old cock, but I could feel my friend swelling as we continued to build the fire kissing.“I need you to eat my pussy just like you did in LA,” she whispered. “I can’t tell you how many times I got off thinking back to that night.”Laughing, I said, “Me too. I’ve gone through half a bottle of lotion.”My fingers hooked the sides of her damp red bikini bottoms and pulled them down her legs. I noticed her painted red toes with white polka dots and I sucked on her big toe as I looked deeply into her eyes.“Hello, Dad!” yelled a female voice.“We want to meet your friend,” said another.Shit! It was my two daughters-in-law. And Trisha is naked on the living room couch.“STOP!” I yelled. “Give me a minute,” I said. I realized they were in the mudroom on the other side of the kitchen.I whispered to Trisha, “Get your suit on ASAP. I’ll go stall them.”As she slipped her legs into her bottoms, I headed for the kitchen. My suit was still fairly wet, so I spun a yarn when I saw them. “We were just coming inside for another drink. I just got out of the pool,” I told them.“Where is your friend?” asked one.“She’s coming. She was right behind me,” I said.Just then I heard, “Hello, I’m Trisha Stewart.”Before I could turn around and make introductions, Allie blurted out, “Mrs. Stewart!”“Oh my god! Allie!” said Trisha.I looked at my other daughter-in-law, Kate, and we both had puzzled looks on our faces. “You two know each other?” I said.Trisha, now dressed in her red bikini and black sarong, quickly explained that Allie grew up with her boys, lived in their neighborhood, and that Allie’s mother was one of her best friends. She also joked that she had hoped Allie would marry her youngest son, Jeff.“Dad, why didn’t you tell me your friend was from Santa Barbara?” Allie asked.The truth was I had told my four kids very little about my guest, just that we met at the LA hotel bar, had both lost our spouses to cancer and that we had developed a great connection chatting over the phone the past week.“Trish let’s take a selfie and I’ll send it to my mom,” Allie laughed.“She is going to die, Trish said. “I didn’t tell her I was coming to Oak Valley knowing she’d want me to see you.”I made a pitcher of margaritas and the four of us talked for thirty minutes. As the girls were leaving Trisha asked about the restaurant and what she should wear. Allie laughed and told her whatever she brought would be fine.