When We Were Young

Please read When We Were Young Ch. 19 and this will make a lot more sense.

Special thanks to kenjisato for the editing, whom I cannot recommend enough.

Comments would be appreciated.

**

The wedding had gone well, the whole day, really. Our guests had enjoyed the carnival-like atmosphere Linda had envisioned and Ronny and Gabby, the wedding planners, had executed.

Jugglers, magicians, face painters, etc., strolled amongst the tents, entertaining the eighty or so children, while their parents enjoyed an adult beverage or two. Ronny had found an award-winning BBQ guy from somewhere who showed up the day before and had been smoking meat ever since, and there were a myriad of trailers handing out funnel cakes, cotton candy, fried Oreos and Snickers, and on and on.

Miss Ruth gave tours of the castle, telling everyone about her father and how he had come to have it built. I joined her for the first couple, the love and respect she had for him was evident, and everyone was as gobsmacked as Linda and I were the first time we saw it.

Linda was beautiful in her white wedding gown, as were Mar, Mama, Sharon, Jazz, and Thea in their bridesmaid dresses. Rich wore a tuxedo, of course, though it covered a white cami.

The ceremony was beautiful, I suppose, though I was so stressed out, I couldn't really tell you about any of it, except that Lin's eyes sparkled throughout and she radiated happiness, which was all I cared about.

Four hours later, we made our escape in a rented limo, G at the wheel.

"What a day," Linda said, laying her head on my shoulder.

"Tired?" I asked, wrapping my arm around her and sipping champagne.

"Exhausted. I don't think I've sat down for more than ten minutes in the last twelve hours. It doesn't help not knowing what is happening next," she added.

"Soon, honey. In fact, I think we're here," I said, as the limo pulled into a strip center and stopped in front of Spa Gwendolyn.

"What's this?"

"Couples massage. I figured my bride could use one after a long, stressful day."

"Oh, Tony, it's perfect! Are they still open?" she asked, as G opened the door, and we got out.

"They're expecting us," I replied, taking a backpack from G and heading for the spa entrance.

The door opened and an attractive woman in her forties smiled at us.

"Mr. and Mrs. Webster, welcome. I'm Gwen. Please, right this way," leading us toward the back of the small spa.

"Mrs. Webster, this is Mei. She'll be taking care of you this evening," Gwen said, indicating a young Asian woman. "Please, go with her and she'll help you out of that beautiful dress and prepare you for your massage."

Off they went, and Gwen led me into another room, where another young Asian woman was waiting.

"Tony, this is Ping. She'll be taking care of you. Are your clothes in there?" she asked, indicating the backpack.

"Yes," I replied, fishing out my sandals, shorts, and a t-shirt, then handing her the pack.

"You've got the box for her dress?" I asked.

"It's all taken care of. I'll see that her dress and your tux get returned to your house tomorrow, Tony. Get undressed, then step through there," indicating a door.

Ping helped me get out of the tux and into a fluffy robe, then led me next door, where two massage tables lay side by side, candles lighting the room, music playing softly. Ping took my robe and I lay down on my stomach, my head in the little donut-ring thing.

A door opened a couple of minutes later, and a fingernail traced its way up my thigh and across my ass cheek, then I felt Lin's lips on my ear.

"It's perfect, Tone, just perfect."

Ping and Mei went to work, and I nodded off about five minutes later, the weird stresses of the day catching up to me. I woke up just long enough to flip onto my back, then was gone again.

Linda's kiss woke me up, her emerald eyes smiling at me.

"Hey, you," I said, stifling a yawn.

"Hey," Linda smiled, softly, and helped me sit up, Mei and Ping watching us from the corner.

"Good?" I asked.

"Mmmm, wonderful. I really needed that. What's next?"

I glanced at my watch. Ten PM.

"Go get dressed," I smiled.

"Knobhead."

"Wanker."

Back in the limo, in comfy shorts and t-shirts, I fished a sleep mask out of my pocket.

"Put this on, please," I said, handing her the mask.

"Why?" she asked, suspiciously.

"It's a surprise."

"I hate surprises, and being kept in the dark like this."

"I know, but not for much longer. I promise," and pointed at the mask.

She gave me a long look, sighed, and slipped the mask on. Taking a scarf from my other pocket, I tied it around her head, making sure she couldn't sneak a peek from the bottom of the mask.

"Twit," she huffed.

We pulled into the hotel ten minutes later and G helped Linda from the limo, grinned at me, and handed me another bag.

"Thanks, G. See you at ten," I said.

"Have a good night," he said, and kissed Linda's hand, who smiled and thanked him for taking care of us.

"Is my pleasure," he replied, then got in the limo and drove off.

I led her into the hotel, getting curious looks and grins from people as I headed toward the desk.

"Mr. and Mrs. Webster. Right this way, please, your room is ready," said the assistant manager, who guided us toward the elevators, where Ronny stood, waiting, shaking her head, grinning.

"Everything ready?" I asked.

"It's perfect."

"Ronny?" Linda asked, turning toward the voice.

"My last task for the night," she replied.

"You did an incredible job today, Ronny. Everything was just the way we envisioned it," Linda said, and the two shared a long embrace.

I hugged Ronny and thanked her for everything, then led Lin into the elevator.

"Almost there, hon. Two minutes," and I could feel her eyes boring into mine from behind the mask.

I opened the door and ushered us inside, then removed the mask and scarf. Candlelight flickered, an open bottle of wine sat on the small table, and Linda's red babydoll lay on the bed, surrounded by a couple hundred rose petals. I went over and opened the curtains, revealing a picturesque view of the parking lot and an interstate highway.

Linda looked out the window, at me, around the room, then back at me.

"Is this?"

I nodded. "Westport Hilton, room 937, the same room we stayed in that night after Christmas, where I told you 'I love you' for the first time. Also, where I hurt you and told you about KJ."

"And where I told you 'I love you'...and about Ray."

"What do you think? Good idea?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded, stepping into my arms. "A lot happened in this room that night, almost all of it good. In many ways, the most important night we've ever spent together."

I nodded. "I really do love you, you know. More and more every day."

Her golden flecks danced in the candlelight, and she slipped a hand behind my neck, pulling me down for a toe-curling kiss.

"I love you, too, Tony. Pour us some wine while I get changed."

"Yes, ma'am."

She scooped up the babydoll and the bag I'd brought, then stopped at the door to the bathroom.

"You won't go anywhere, will you?" a devilish grin on her face.

I shook my head and she giggled, then closed the door.

I poured the wine and set up the little speaker to play my iPod, shuffling through the jazz I'd downloaded.

The door opened, and there, backlit by the bathroom light, was my slutty angel, a light gray fedora on her head, red feather matching her babydoll tucked into the band, tilted rakishly over one eye. Hats are just so damn sexy.

"Fuuuck me," I breathed.

"Oh, I intend to. Do you like the hat?"

I just nodded, dumbly.

"There was a note in the bag. A wedding gift from Ronny and Gabby."

I held up a finger, then hopped over to the iPod and fiddled with it a minute, cranking the volume up as 'You Can Leave Your Hat On' by Joe Cocker started to play.

Linda laughed, then began to sway to the beat, and I got on my knees, my head even with her lace-covered breasts. She played with my hair while she danced, and I ran my hands lightly over her body, just tickling her skin. Her nipples grew and goosebumps popped out on her skin until a full-body shiver hit her. Grinning, she leaned down and kissed me, hard.

"Unwrap me, baby."

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, pulling on the bow and watching the lingerie pool at her feet, her red, satin thong clinging to her sex.

I stood, scooped her up, and laid her gently on the edge of the bed, surrounded by rose petals. I pulled my t-shirt off, and the Foot Whisperer went to work, Linda stretching her arms above her head and, I swear to God, purring. Her eyes were hooded, a contented smile on her face, watching me.

While I made love to her toes and rubbed my fingertips up and down her legs, I dropped my shorts, my hard cock resting on her thong-covered pussy. Her emerald eyes shone like the jewels they resembled, golden flecks shimmering in the candlelight, and her hands began to pull on those beautiful, near-black nubs, an inch long and growing.

I could feel her heat through the satin thong, damp with delicious nectar. I switched to her other foot, pausing to slide the thong aside, resting my cock against her clit.

"Tell me when, honey," I said, before popping her toe into my mouth and swirling my tongue around it.

She smiled and nodded, giggling when I scooped up a handful of petals and dropped them on her stomach. She pinched and pulled on her nipples, her breath growing shallow.

"Now, Tone, now," she breathed, and I slipped inside her, warm and wet, my thumb strumming her clit back and forth, and a long shudder coursed through her. Her back arched as she pinched and pulled, a long, low moan emanating from her core as she came.

I pulled out just long enough to slip her thong off and slide her to the middle of the bed, then entered her again, my mouth on her neck and ear.

"Mmmm, so good," she sighed, breathing deeply, as I moved slowly inside her.

Her hands snaked around my neck, fingers playing with my hair, hips undulating slowly.

I rose up on my hands and locked my elbows, staring at the most beautiful woman in the world, who, for reasons I couldn't understand, loved me; a relaxed, contented smile on her face.

"Did today match the dream?" I asked.

"It was wonderful," she said. "After all, I got my prince," her hands pulling my mouth to hers, her feet wrapping around me.

Seventeen minutes later, we lay on our backs, a sweaty mess, rose petals sticking to us everywhere.

"Go take a shower, then come prepare me for bed," Linda said, stifling a yawn.

"Yes, ma'am."

I showered, then washed my everything with a reverence I hadn't felt before, as if our being married required a greater attention to detail on my part.

On my knees in the shower, soaping her golden-brown thigh, I glanced up and our eyes met, and I could tell she felt it, too, whatever it was. We stared at each other, a small smile on our faces, her hands caressing my hair, and I leaned in and kissed her stomach, then got back to work.

**

The limo was waiting for us the next morning, G resting against the hood, as we exited the hotel. Linda skipped over ahead of me and gave him a hug, the two talking quietly, G shaking his head.

"He doesn't know where we're going," I called, and she stuck her tongue out at me.

G laughed and opened the door for us, and we slipped inside, two mimosas waiting for us.

"Twenty minutes and you'll know, hon."

She huffed and drank her mimosa, watching for signs of our destination out the window, eventually catching the sign for Chesterfield Airport, and she spun to face me.

"We're flying private?" her eyes lit up, and I nodded.

"But, how?"

"A wedding gift from the Briarwood Country Club Board of Directors. Turns out they all have partial shares in a jet, and when I went to Roger Westerfield for info on renting a private plane, they got together and offered us theirs, so long as I pay for the fuel and the pilots."

"That's it?"

"That's still thousands of dollars, but yeah. Well, that and Roger insisted on giving me a blowjob."

Linda shook her head. "What an unusual man."

"Mmmm," I replied, as G pulled up to the terminal.

We thanked him for everything, and he left, having promised to take his wife, Emmy, and their kids on a drive around the city before returning the limo later that night.

A slim, uniformed man around fifty walked towards us as G drove away.

"Mr. and Mrs. Webster?" he asked, and we nodded.

"Burt Williams. I'm your pilot. Congratulations on your wedding, Roger said it was quite the event. Ready to get going?"

We nodded.

"Passports?"

I fished in our little bag and handed them over.

"Great. Just follow me..."

Twenty minutes later, we were in the air, Burt and the co-pilot, Allie, winging us toward our honeymoon...and a meeting that would change our lives.

"Now?" Linda asked.

I smiled and fished a brochure out Burt had hidden under a cushion. "I rented us an island in the Bahamas."

"An island? Like, a whole island?"

I nodded. "Smiling Dolphin Cay," I said, as she looked at the pictures in the brochure.

"The whole thing. For two weeks. A couple will come out every day to clean, re-stock the pantry and bar, and prepare a meal of our choosing. There are mopeds, a sports court, two pools, snorkeling gear, a small fishing boat, and a couple of jet skis. There's a small cottage, a larger house, a chapel, and even a little lighthouse. Plus, we can catch a seaplane taxi if we want to go into town.

"What do you think?" I asked, holding my breath.

She frowned, shook her head slightly, and my heart sank.

"I had to mess with you at least a little, you know that, right?" she said, breaking into a grin.

"It's wonderful, honey," she added, sliding across the couch and into my arms.

"Jesus, Lin. You damn near gave me a heart--" her lips cutting me off.

We smooched a little, then lay on the couch, and I answered her questions the best I could, until she drifted into a light sleep. I held her to me, thinking about what I hadn't told her, my mind in a different place in time, until Allie popped her head into the cabin and told us we'd be in Nassau in twenty minutes.

Burt and Allie wished us well and said they'd see us in a couple of weeks, handing us off to an official who got us straightened away and led us back across the broiling tarmac to a seaplane taxi, where our luggage was already loaded.

Della was an ebony bombshell who resembled Thea, tall and broad-shouldered. She got us onboard and strapped in, then we were off, the wheels retracting into the floats as we reached altitude.

It was loud inside, so we just looked around for the thirty-minute hop to Smiling Dolphin Cay. It was beautiful, but we flew over a lot of concrete-block shacks and shanty towns, which I found particularly depressing.

Sparkling-blue water soon replaced land, and my spirits lifted, as we bypassed one little island after another until Della pointed one out in the distance. It was small, like the others, maybe ten or eleven acres, but beautiful.

Della circled once, so we could see where everything was, then made a perfect landing on a calm bed of crystal-clear water. We taxied to the dock, and I hopped onto the float and tossed a line to Nathaniel, caretaker of our island, and a few others, along with his wife, Carol.

Nat, as he liked to be called, was around fifty, with dark, leathery skin, completely bald, a bit overweight, and an easy laugh.

Nat helped us onto the dock, and then he and Della wrangled our suitcases off the plane, the two obviously familiar with each other, and I noticed he walked with a bit of a limp. Della handed me a card, which I tucked safely away, and then was gone with a friendly wave.

"Welcome to Smiling Dolphin Cay," Nat said, with a pleasant, island accent, loading our bags onto a little dolly and leading us toward a golf cart, where Carol was waiting. Dressed in a bright, floral frock, she had large breasts and curvy hips, was a decade younger than Nat, and was just as friendly.

We introduced ourselves, loaded up the golf cart, and headed toward the small cottage on the other end of the island, mere feet from the water, Linda and I following on the crushed-seashell path on mopeds.

It was four in the afternoon, and the sun was beating down oppressively. There was no AC, but a cool breeze blew in off the water and fans were cranked up in the cottage, helping immensely.

"It'll be much more comfortable in a couple of hours," Carol said, pouring us an orangish-red drink from a pitcher out of the fridge.

"Welcome to Smiling Dolphin," she toasted, and we all took a drink. Linda and I coughed and spluttered, Nat and Carol grinning widely.

"Wow," I hoarsely managed several seconds later, confident I could breathe fire if I had a lighter.

"Carol's famous rum punch," Nat smiled. "It's got a little bit of a kick," he acknowledged, before knocking back the rest of his drink.

They showed us where everything was, the best places to snorkel, an uninhabited island we could take the watercraft to, and on and on, then made plans to stop by the next day to see how we were doing.

"Just call if you need anything, day or night, we're just about forty minutes away," Nat said, then they climbed into the golf cart and headed toward the dock. Several minutes later, their boat passed by the cottage, they waved, then headed away, the tick of the refrigerator and the fans the only noise for miles.

We unpacked, moving slowly in the heat, Carol's rum punch going down smoother with every swallow. Linda undressed, put on some bikini bottoms, and stuffed the top in a small bag. I tossed my shirt onto the bed, and then we slathered on some sunscreen, filled a basket with bottled water, rum punch, and a fruit salad Carol had prepared, hopped on the mopeds, and went out to see just what fourteen-thousand-nine-hundred-and-fifty dollars a night (off-season!) bought.

It was pretty spectacular, I had to admit. Plants and flowers lined the pathways, and we stopped to admire them, Linda said how much Thea would love this place, to which I concurred.

We came to a little hut, 'Big Willie's Bar' emblazoned over the door. Nat had given me a ring of keys, and we went in. There were a couple of small tables and a bar, the alcohol behind a locked cage. Out the back, there was a small, covered deck with a hibachi grill, and an infinity pool, which beckoned. We hopped in for a few minutes, then continued on.

The main house sat on the hill, elevation all of fifteen feet, and I unlocked the door so we could explore. There were six bedrooms upstairs, five with double queens, one with a California king, and three large bathrooms. The main floor consisted of two more bedrooms, a large kitchen, a small library, and a huge seating area with three couches, four recliners, a projection TV, and a fireplace, driftwood loaded and ready to light. A large, covered deck ran across the back of the house, another infinity pool just a step away.

We took a little dip, locked up the house, and headed for the lighthouse, on a little spit of sand at the northern tip of the island. I unlocked the door, and the heat poured out, enveloping us.

"Jesus," Linda said, removing her ball cap and wiping her forehead.

"It certainly holds the heat well," I quipped, squinting into the small room.

We climbed the twenty-seven circular, wrought-iron steps and popped out onto the roof. We looked around and shrugged, then headed down. They can't all be amazing.

The island was pear-shaped, and the lighthouse was the stem. We headed down the side of the island opposite the main house, coming first to a small, stone chapel, driftwood forming the cross. It was cool inside, and we spent a few minutes on the rough-hewn benches, eating Carol's fruit salad, before locking up and heading on.