Table For Two Out Back

This is an entry for the

2025 Valentine Day's haul of stories

. In my original rough storyboard, it was heading for the Loving Wives category, which is my usual playground, but once complete and reviewed by those that support my work, the consensus was it should sit in Romance, so that's where it's gone.

Once again, I need to thank

29wordsforsnow

for their patience and time wading though the editing and helping nudge it along the track towards completion. Said it before, and I'll say it again, editors are the unsung heroes of Literotica.

Lastly, it's a long read just in case it's not your cup of tea, I thought I'd mention that up front. So, here we go, welcome to:

Table for two, Out back.

Fuck me

... no, it wasn't a request. Waking up, flat on my back, the world seemed to have lost the horizontal hold as my eyes opened to a blur of white above me. Not yet, not quite ready to face the world. I closed them again. Oh God, the pain in my head, who let a herd of elephants run amok inside my skull, causing carnage? Stupidly, that could only have been me. Hazy memories skittered around inside the mush that's supposed to be my brain in a kaleidoscope of colours. A flying fist connecting with my face... a topless woman... taxi... bouncers... dancing... kissing some beauty... drink then more drink... getting handsy with someone... there was Elvis... I think he married someone, or was he from a show downstairs in the hotel? Nothing seemed clear as I groaned, trying hard not to use too much brain power to focus on these bite size memories, at least for now. It would make more sense once those damned elephants stopped charging around inside my head, a couple of painkillers from my wash bag would kick start that process.

Just a few more seconds... there... I can open my eyes. Ouch! The left one was painful, the peripheral vision filled with the swollen flesh around my eye socket. Lying there for a few seconds more, the blurry ceiling came into focus. I understood why I'd done this yesterday, I'd clearly gone on a personal bender to try and excise the reason why I

should've

been here, not the reason

why

I was here. Whatever I'd done last night, thank Christ I'd made it back to my suite in what appeared to be one piece.

Slowly moving my eyes to look around, there was something wrong. There shouldn't have been an arm draped over my chest along with the long leg bent at a slight angle partially atop my lower body. No, they definitely shouldn't have been there.

No... no... shit, it's not just something wrong, it's catastrophically wrong.

I'd broken my most sacred rule! No married women. Ever. Just below my chin and sparkling like a beacon of shame, I'd spied a golden ring on her ring finger, making my heart sink.

What the fuck have I done, and just as importantly, with whom?

Rotating my head slowly, there's a mass of long blonde hair attached to a stunning beauty. What the fuck? She certainly shouldn't be here. Was it her husband that smacked me? Moving very slowly, I managed to shift slightly, gently holding the arm to lower it back onto the bed as my leg wiggled in tandem allowing me to covertly slide from the bed. Luckily, the only sound she made was a slight murmur mixed in with her slow and steady breathing.

A trail of hastily discarded clothes lay on the floor, starting by the door, ending up with underwear close to the bed. They must have been hers, but the men's clothes, they certainly weren't mine. They were familiar, it just wasn't quite coming together in my throbbing head yet. Frustratingly, I couldn't see any other clothes, nor my phone or wallet. This was not good. Not only were they someone else's, I had to assume that both the people literally stripped themselves the minute they stepped in the room. OK, the clothes were obviously hers, but where were mine? I really needed some aspirin as another one of those pieces floating around my head came into vision.

What if her husband is looking for her right now? Fuck, this is the US, probably quite legit to go shoot the nuts off the arsehole screwing your wife in a hotel room.

I looked at the door, nervous her husband could suddenly rock up and not take too kindly to my presence. Maybe he was the person that smacked me. If I knew where my bloody phone was, I could see what Mr Google says about the risk if some John Wayne came a'knocking with guns a'blazing. I must admit, I'd make it quite legit to shoot someone's nuts off if they were caught fooling with a married woman, so I felt justified to be worried.

I stood naked and, despite the pounding head, tried to form a logical chain of events together that could explain away the situation I found myself in. As well as those aspirin, I really needed to pee too, so I sloped off to the bathroom, carefully shutting the door. Before it fully closed, I stopped, taking in the naked beauty that had been my unknown bedfellow and, I had to admit, her husband was one lucky son-of-a-bitch to end up with such a hottie, and the thought I'd betrayed a stranger's trust in his wife was a depressing thought.

Standing, feeling somewhat wobbly over the toilet bowl, using my left hand to support me against the wall, what felt like a never-ending stream of liquid drained from my body, splashing into the pristine white glazed porcelain bowl to pollute the mini lake it held. Part way through the unstoppable stream, I could hear a faint continuous, repeating noise. I closed my eyes and shook my head slowly. My phone's ringtone, which was somewhere in the bedroom after all. Quickly rinsing my hand, concentrating on my reflection showing a nice 'ole black eye, which made me wince, I prayed that the vision of beauty would sleep through it ringing when I heard a voice.

"

Hey mom!

"

Washing my hands, I stood there, looking at the street brawler's face in the mirror. I couldn't decide if it was some sort of delayed shock or facing the fact I may have somehow crossed over into an alternative reality.

Mom

? How the hell would Sleeping Beauty's mum have my mobile phone number? I had no choice other than face the music, apologise for the fact we had somehow ended up in bed together. The hazy vision of her bouncing up and down on my cock now joined the other snippets playing in my mind. Surely, it couldn't get any worse? I needed to take a deep breath and go front this out. Realising I was naked, I wrapped a towel around my midsection, then slowly opened the bathroom door.

Sleeping Beauty was laying on the bed quite naked talking excitedly to her mum as she caught sight of me, causing her to squeal and jump up, bounding across the floor to wrap her arms around me, pulling her lithe body up tightly as the two fleshy globes pressed into my chest.

"Good morning, lover, I'm talking to mom, she said she wants to talk to you."

Releasing me, she passed me the phone. Gingerly, I placed it against my ear expecting a diatribe from her mum for sleeping with a married woman. I literally cringed as I spoke.

"Erm, hello?"

"

Very funny, Vincent, April Fool's day is a fair way off yet

."

Life was getting weirder by the second since I'd woken up. Moving the phone from my ear, I looked at the name on the screen;

Mum

. As in my very own mother, like the woman who gave birth to me, and not Sleeping Beauty. Turning my head to look at her, she immediately leant in and kissed me, her blue eyes sparkling like the clearest ocean water.

Impishly, she whispered to me.

"Honey, don't forget, mom's on the phone."

It was then I saw it. Confirmation I was clearly in an alternate reality in the body of an alternative me, but not me, me. The gold band on a ring finger. Not the one on Sleeping Beauty's finger, the one on mine that wasn't there the last time I could clearly remember who and where I was. I stood frozen like I'd been turned to stone, unable to speak, my mouth partially open. Putting the phone back to my ear, I could hear my mum's voice talking to me as if I was still part of the conversation.

"...isn't funny, Vincent, please, is this some foolish prank? Are you really married to Candi, with an 'i' and not a 'y'."

She paused briefly before continuing,

"Of course it's with an 'i', she is American, after all."

I cringed, the sarcastic tone clearly evident in her clipped voice, along with the anger she could barely contain. I needed some hard facts and trying to talk to my mum without them was a big no-no.

"Mum, I need to go and try and understand what happened, OK? I've just woken up and my head's banging like a tin drum. I'll call you back soon, I promise."

Talking to me as if I was still ten years old, she continued.

"Vincent, you need to straighten this mess out, we've not even smoothed over the embarrassment of the last time, and we cannot let this be made public. Do you understand? When we saw the text, your father was threatening to try and get your passport revoked. Yes, it sounds like nonsense but you know he'd try and use his old boy network to try and find a way to see it through. How could you do this, if this gets out, he will definitely get black balled from the golf club, and that's just for starters. Say goodbye to Candi, with an i, for me, and hopefully this phone call will be our one and only interaction. Goodbye Vincent, remember, make this go away before you come home."

Then she just hung up. I looked into the face of Sleeping Beauty, in fact she had a name. Candi, with an 'i' and I needed to stop saying that to myself in my head. Damn my bloody mother for putting it in there! I looked at her perfectly sculptured face, her perfect white teeth partially hidden by her rose-coloured pouty lips and those hypnotic eyes...

I could only describe her as a classic American beauty. Dirty blonde hair cascaded past her shoulders, stacked up top with two perfectly formed orbs that looked au naturel and quite able to defy Newton's laws of physics as they pointed at me. Her tanned body cinched in nicely at her trim waist before flaring out into a pair of hips that, had they been part of the Goldilocks story instead of a bed, would have been declared as just so right, in fact perfectly right. And her legs, they just seemed to go on and on tapering down to a beautiful pair of feet. The other thing I noticed was, there wasn't a hair in sight below her eyebrows on her body.

"You still like me, then? God, you had me gushing last night when you were reciting Dracula. Let me think, what did you say oh yeah,

The girl went on her knees, and bent over me, simply gloating. There was a deliberate voluptuousness..."

I took over from her, reciting one of my all-time favourite English classics.

"....which was both thrilling and repulsive, and as she arched her neck she actually licked her lips like an animal, till I could see in the moonlight the moisture shining on the scarlet lips and on the red tongue as it lapped the white sharp teeth. Lower and lower went her head as the lips went below the range of my mouth and chin and seemed to fasten on my throat."

She stared at me, shivering lustfully as I answered.

"You've done well to remember that I recited it to you."

Taking my hand, she pulled me towards the bed.

"I told you, I love that, I've read it myself several times. Recite it again in that delicious voice of yours and I'll devour you, again."

She flipped back on the bed, pulling me with her, as I frantically put my arms out to support myself rather than crush her. The thing was, who was going to crush whom as those long legs of hers wrapped around me like a pair of boa constrictors pulling me in so our bodies were pressed against each other. I needed to stop this in its tracks.

"Candi, look can we just slow down for a minute. I hate to say this, but what happened last night? It all seems a little fuzzy."

She sighed, her legs unlocked, allowing me to roll over next to her. She sat up, then shifted her body to sit on top of me. I could feel the heat from between her legs radiating towards the little me, the one that was quite capable of function involuntarily without my support. I felt him twitch, and tried to not look at this wonder of womanhood looking playfully down at me. With a disarming smile, she carried on.

"Let's start with the easy stuff, what's the last thing you can positively remember. Was it hiring the tux?"

I looked at her wide-eyed, I didn't need to even speak to express my bewilderment.

"OK, so that's a no. What about dirty dancing in the club before that?"

I shook my head.

"Oh, tell you what, you tell me what you do remember, then we can piece it all together. Must be some sort of amnesia from the fight," she giggled, "or maybe it was the champagne and cocktails we downed."

She giggled again, lifting a finger to her mouth with a not-so-innocent look.

"Actually, it could be the fact we screwed like rabbits once we were married and back here... I'm gonna go with that!"

With every sentence, it felt like my life had taken a shift straight out of an episode of the Twilight Zone. Despite the banging head, I tried to think really hard and started to recount the previous day.

"I spent most of the day playing the slots in the hotel, a bit of gambling until I got bored. I remember asking a taxi driver to take me somewhere where there were plenty of women... and he dropped me at..."

She quickly chimed in.

"Kitty4U! he must have dropped you there!"

"Yeah, that's right, I remember now. It's a lap dancing club, right?"

With the prompts, the jigsaw puzzle started to piece together in my head.

"Oh fuck! You work there! You're one of the dancers!"

A mock sad expression filled her face before her face broke into a megawatt smile.

"No, I

did

work there, until my knight in shining armor turned up late yesterday afternoon and saved me."

Then it hit me, actually, being hit, seeing the meaty fist heading unexpectedly at my face flashed through my mind. Candi was on stage dancing over me, her hip gyrating in a way that was so obscene, it could've stirred the dead.

Suddenly, some guy appeared next to me, grabbed her leg, trying to pull her from the stage. I stood up and pushed him, sending him crashing back against the table and chairs. Steadying himself, he stepped towards me. I put my hands up, I recalled uttering the words '

that's not the way to treat a lady'

but I didn't think he understood me, in the same way I didn't quite understand his language, which involved nothing but his fist, until it was too late. Hence the black eye. I smiled, yep, that caught me unawares, but boxing at university came in handy. When he came back for more, I deflected the next lazy punch before a swift jab and uppercut had him seeing stars on the floor.

"Coming back to you now?"

She had sat watching me intently, aware I was piecing together and replaying the event in my mind.

"When they threw you out, I grabbed my stuff and told them to stick the job up their ass, that wasn't the first time some idiot had made a grab for me. They just don't look after the girls like they should. So I ran out, just managed to squeeze into the taxi with you and then we went to a bar. Well, we did after I managed to put some clothes on in the taxi. You were a total gentleman, turned away instead of taking a sneaky peak, like the taxi driver. I knew right then, you were a keeper."

Like an echo through the valleys, those words bounced around in my mind; "

I knew then, you were a keeper.

" Surely she must have escaped from somewhere, like a psychiatric hospital? I could feel myself beginning to go pale and clammy.

"Honey, are you OK? Do you think I need to take you to the emergency room?"

I sat there slack-jawed looking back at her, worry etched on her face that there was something wrong with me. Maybe there was something wrong. Did that guy punch me and put me in a coma... was this some construct of my mind? I touched the bumpy skin around my eye. No, I doubt you could feel imaginary pain as I gently pushed into the discoloured flesh.

"Have we met before?"

She shook her head.

"Before that punch, did we have a deep meaningful conversation, in fact did we speak to each other at all?"

Again, she slowly shook her head, curious as to the questions coming her way.

"Let me get this right. We've never met, never spoken, and you knew I was a keeper.

How

does that work?"

Leaning over, a hand cupped my face causing me to flinch slightly.

"Oops, sorry! Does it hurt bad?"

Shaking my head, her lips moved and planted a soft, velvety kiss around my eye. Despite my head still banging, the intoxicating mix of her perfume and lips caused my heart to flutter. Gently, I pushed her back.

"Candi, this is a joke right? We aren't really married, are we?"

Shit, I said the wrong thing. Leaping off the bed, she stomped over to dig around in a bag, then came back, catching me unawares as she sat back astride me. Every time she moved, flowed around me, I captured more and more details of her body, and it was simply, perfection. Looks wise, she was in an entirely different league to me, and I knew it. Unhurriedly, her backside dropped lower... and lower until little me had started to get very excited, nudging up to touch the hotbox between her legs. Slowly, ever so slowly, her body moved, little me standing fully to attention, her damp hot channel rubbed back and forth, her lower lips the cello and my taut bow moving slowly, ready to make sweet music with her enticing instrument of love.

Looking up, her stare could only be described as intense. Her breathing had deepened, but her eyes never left mine as her hips maintained the sensuous back and forth rhythm that I'd found so alluring the previous night when I'd watched her in the club. Our eyes remained locked on each other, both expressionless. There was something about her stare, it felt as if it was inducing tonic immobility, a mixture of her beauty and those piercing blue eyes staring down at me.

Unfolding the paper taken from her bag, she held it up before me, but continued to move and stare unabated. Refocusing on the paper, I read it.

Certificate of marriage between Vincent Robert Mahone and Candi Steph Richards

. It had to be a joke. Holding the piece of paper so it remained in focus the sensual rocking continued relentlessly as she spoke softly.

"We'd gone to a bar, grabbed some food and talked. We started talking about things we like, that's where Dracula dropped into the conversation. I studied English literature in University and enjoyed many of the famous pieces English literature produced. I was shocked by the erotic writings from another age!

Then we went to a club, and danced. Oh god, did we dance. And drink, yeah we drank a lot! We sat in a booth and you spilled your guts as to why you were here and where you were staying. You said I was special, you'd marry me... so I said to you let's do it if you really meant what you'd just said. I mean, why not make proper use of the suite?"

She looked at me, to confirm I was still following her story.

"We went outside, hailed a cab to the Marriage License Bureau down on Clark Avenue. You already had a bridal suite here in the Westgate, so I sweet-talked the Chapel of Crystals downstairs to make a last minute booking whilst we were in the cab. They told me where to go to rent my gown and your tux. That was the only thing you insisted on, you had to wear a tux. We rented the clothes, there was a jeweller in the mall so we picked some rings although it was a bit rushed as we couldn't be late and then... We're a happy married couple! God, Vincent, I love you, you're just so romantic!"