Nothing More Beautiful (52 page)

Alma had recovered just fine, and a month
later, the four of us—including her now-fiancé—took a trip to
Hawaii for two weeks. It was as beautiful as ever.

Bridgett and I started up Friends Bakery and
Brunch House in December for a grand re-opening, a whole year after
our first opening. Our class-action lawsuit against the Inspection
Engineer ended in court, the jury finding him guilty as hell. I
gave a sizable chunk of my money to charity.

Vince and I grew closer and closer in the
following months, moving in together shortly after the
abduction—something Colby-Jack enjoyed quite a bit, with the space
to roam and sleep in over 5,000 square feet. It seemed like every
day we learned something new about each other. I wondered how long
that would go on or if it was something that would last a lifetime.
We had crossed everything off our fantasy sex list, so we made a
new one. The experiments were never-ending, the passion never
expiring.

“It’s time, girls,” Becky said, entering the
room. Her voice snapped me back to the present. I smiled at her and
she beamed back at me. She had graciously agreed to fill the spot
as our wedding coordinator. The role was a hobby of hers, and she
was damn good at it, telling people where to be and when. “I have
your brother here to walk you down the aisle.” As soon as my
bridesmaids filed out, Donny offered me his arm.

“You look beautiful,” he whispered into my
ear, as I linked my arm in his. “Mom and Dad would be so proud of
you, Maci. To see what kind of woman you turned out to be. I am.”
On the threshold of tears, I kissed him on the cheek, holding it
all together by a fraying string, the emotion of the day
intense.

As we exited the building to the aisle
outside, the Ben Harper ballad reached my ears, and I gazed upon an
audience of friends and family, who all stood up when they saw me.
Ahead of them, under a wooden arch in a sharp, light-gray tux,
Vince stood, and I could see my future before my eyes. I could see
our kids playing in the backyard, our family vacations, movie
nights with pizza and popcorn, and all the nights of passionate
sex.

Our eyes locked, and the biggest smile
spread across his face. My cheeks ached as I smiled back at him, as
big as I ever had in my life. I cherished the moment, but at the
same time, I also couldn’t wait to see a lifetime of those
smiles.

You didn’t really think the story would end
like that, did you?

I
drove us to our
destination in Vince’s wedding gift to me. A 1995 purple Escort,
retrofitted like his Mustang, now an electric vehicle that could go
over a thousand miles on a single charge. I called him Eddie,
Jr.

Instead of staying in a fancy hotel in
downtown Portland, which all looked similar to our condo, we
decided on a B&B not far from the winery. The Catbird Seat sat
near Fern Ridge Lake, tucked away on a hill, off the road, and
surrounded by the quiet of the countryside. Vince had booked both
available rooms for the night so that no one would disturb us. It
was late, and the owners had left the door unlocked for us, but she
got out of bed and greeted us anyway.

Vince carried a large suitcase upstairs to
the suite. I lugged the travel bag and a smaller suitcase. In the
room, Vince turned on the electric fireplace, making the flames
bright and the heat low, since June at night was sometimes still
cool in Oregon.

We were going to work with a different sex
book tonight—one I was excited to try—and I took out the gift from
Danielle:
The Cosmo Kama Sutra
, filled with sex positions
and instructions. Despite the fact that it was given as a joke, I
thought to put it to good use, with pages already bookmarked. I
pointed to the one I wanted to try.

“The
Pinwheel
, eh? Sounds like fun,”
Vince said, reading over the instructions. “To get us warmed up,
anyway.”

“Warmed up?”

“I have a few surprises,” he said, unzipping
the large suitcase. The sex pillow lay inside, along with other
accessories, including two pairs of fuzzy purple handcuffs.

“Two pairs?” I asked, holding up the
cuffs.

“You’ll just have to wait and see.” He put
them down and took me in his arms, showering me with soft kisses,
up and down my neck, across my chin, and between my breasts.

“Hold on there,” I said, pushing him back.
“I have my own surprises.” I picked up my bag and stepped into the
master bathroom. It had taken me a while to find the perfect
wedding-night outfit, but when I finally stumbled upon it, I knew
it was
the one
before I even tried it on. The brocade corset
laced up in the front and on both sides with satin ribbons.
Luckily, I had already pre-looped the ribbons. Otherwise it would
have taken half an hour to put it on with the garters. I adjusted
all the straps and tied the ribbons into cute bows, attaching the
garters to the corset last. The matching thong completed the
outfit, but I didn’t expect to keep it on long.

When I opened the bathroom door, Vince’s
mouth watered as his jaw hung open, his crotch swelling. “Wow,” was
all he said.

I grabbed his ivory bowtie. “Let’s do
something about these clothes.” Unzipping his pants, I stroked his
cock over his boxers. It hardened, stretching the underwear. His
cock sprung up as I freed it. I slowly unbuttoned his shirt while
he ran his fingers all over my hips and breasts. He dove into my
cleavage, inhaling as deeply as he could.

“You smell so good.”

“I taste even better,” I said, pointing his
cock between my legs. “But you should already know that.” I
stretched out on the bed and spread my legs, waiting for him to
climb beside me. He kicked off his shoes and socks, then his pants
and underwear. He tightened up his bowtie on his naked neck. Our
tongues met, wet and hot, sliding around each other, making my
heart race. Vince gently rubbed the lips between my legs, his
fingers grazing the smooth skin of my thighs. After a minute, he
flipped around so that our mouths faced each others’ crotches,
slipping off my thong.

He handed me a bottle of flavored lube from
the bag, then began kissing up and down my thighs. His nose brushed
my clit as he made his way from my left to my right leg. I moaned
at the fleeting touch. The anticipation had been building since
last night, and I wanted to come badly. Well, really, the
anticipation had begun building two weeks ago when we agreed on no
sex for the period until our wedding night.

With that in mind, I poured the lube all
over his balls, up his shaft and around his head. Sixty-Nine’s
ignited a delicious lust inside me, and the more times we did it,
the more I wanted to do it. It was the best foreplay, and even
better when Vince added a vibrator to the mix. Tonight he added two
fingers into my tightness instead. I was extra tight from the two
weeks of abstinence.

Our noises filled the room. Before long,
with Vince’s cock halfway down my throat, he stopped his motions,
yelling into my thigh. I braced with the audio queue. He exploded
into my mouth seconds later while I quickened my pumping hand until
he fell into quiet gasps. He was squeezing my ass with one hand,
and the sheets with the other, trembling.

He kissed me hard after I swallowed all of
his semen. “Magical,” he said, lying beside me. “Just magical.”

“We’re just getting warmed up, remember?” I
said, cuddling into his chest. I could fall asleep to his heartbeat
if I weren’t so hungry for sex. We took a break for ten minutes
before Vince continued what he had started with his tongue.

As the pressure built under my skull,
Vince’s cock slowly came to life, and after minutes of his sweet
tongue assault, he was throbbing once again. Hard and wanting,
Vince lay on his back, propped up by his elbows, as I read him the
instructions for the
pinwheel
. I did the same, my feet
facing his head; I then slid onto his cock, wrapping my legs around
his torso. He positioned his left leg behind my back and his right
leg across my stomach, a feat in flexibility. He thrust slowly with
shallow penetration, one hand on my hip, the other resting across
my thigh, with his thumb massaging my clit.

It was slow, sensual, and purely delectable.
“Okay,” he said, pushing me off him after a few minutes. “I can’t
wait any longer.” He rolled off the bed, peeking into a closet, and
lit up when he found what he wanted. He dragged out a body mirror
with a floor stand and positioned it in front of the bed. Then he
dug around in the suitcase and retrieved a purple leather cock ring
with a bullet vibrator attached to it.

“Surprise, surprise,” he intoned, unsnapping
the adjustable snaps.

“Sexy,” I said. “What else is in this bag of
yours?”

“You’ll find out by the end of the night or
tomorrow morning—however long you last.” He wrapped the base of his
cock in the leather, forcing the blood to his tip, engorging it to
the point that it probably wouldn’t have fit in my mouth. He made
the vibrator face down, against his balls. “Lie down.” He pointed
to the middle of the California king. My arms and head hung over
the side of the bed. “Lift.” I lifted my hips so that the wedge
angled my ass up. He grabbed one of the fuzzy purple handcuffs and
locked it around one of my wrists.

“Don’t worry. I have the key.” He smiled,
producing the key from the suitcase, and rested it atop the
electric fireplace. Taking my hand, he cuffed the other end to the
bedframe. He copied the action with my left hand. I couldn’t move,
bound to the bed with my ass in the air.

He walked on his knees behind me. With the
mirror in front of me, I could see his sexy abs as he played with
my pussy, using his massive head. My heart beat faster as I waited
and he teased. Finally, he eased into my wet, tight pussy, and I
moaned as he filled me up. The deep penetration felt like he was
close to my breasts, pushing everything out of the way, to reach my
heart.

He turned on the vibrator. As he thrust, it
smacked my clit, sending a jolt of pleasure to the back of my neck.
He thrust harder and harder, his breaths erratic, and with each
pound, I lost more control, falling into the wild rhythm of his
hips.

And then I was lost in a world of surging
red, but I fought closing my eyes, and looked up into the mirror.
Screaming at the top of my lungs, I stared into Vince’s eyes as I
climaxed for the first time as Mrs. Forte.

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Where would I be without all those tragically funny
stories about bad dates? Not writing very realistic fiction, that’s
where. Thanks to all my friends sharing their experiences with
moronic guys and allowing me to write about them. A big thanks to
editor Rachel Guerin who made this story what it is. Thanks to all
the Portlanders who make the City of Roses so special. Thanks to my
family for all their support in my life. The BIGGEST and last
thanks goes to my husband. This book would not be possible without
you!

Lorelai was born in 1989. She is a bookworm who
loves writing erotic contemporary works that push boundaries and
have a touch of mystery/suspense. She also enjoys writing
paranormal and dystopian when the mood strikes her. She lives in
Portland, Oregon with her husband, their chubby cat, and two birds.
In her spare time she likes to bike, hike, and drink craft brews,
like many Portlanders do, and watch movies in the dark.