Without You I Have Nothing

There was an awkward moment of profound silence after Peter closed the door.

They smiled nervously at each other as Peter lifted a hand and softly stroked the side of Jennifer's face.

With head down and hands clasped before her, she waited, feeling a sudden chill of apprehension.

He voiced his innermost thoughts. "Right now, I feel like the luckiest man alive. I never dreamed that I would meet and marry someone as beautiful as you." Then he leaned down and tilted her chin in his hand, bending lower to give her the sweetest kiss that she had ever experienced.

Her mind was waging a battle between excitement and nervousness. Until now, this battle had been pretty even, but suddenly the scales tipped decidedly in favor of excitement.

"Mrs. O'Brien, I love you." Softly he breathed the words and she lifted her head while he gently kissed her forehead.

Her soft answer, "I love you Mr. O'Brien," was all the answer Peter needed to hear.

Laughing, he broke the awkward silence. "I'm starving."

The wedding breakfast had been superb but Peter's thoughts hadn't been on the food.

Relaxing, Jennifer beamed. "No wonder, all you did was pick," she giggled, "and kiss me."

"You didn't eat much yourself. It's still early, so would you like to eat out, eat here or, well, any suggestion?"

"Have something sent up. I'm famished and I'm suddenly very tired. My morning started at sunrise I'm sure. And," she giggled, "I was rather busy making myself beautiful for a date in a church. Then I met a most handsome man in the church and I married him."

She was laughing, but both of them were apprehensive about what lay ahead.

As Peter picked up the phone to put through the order, he knew how desperately he wanted to make love with Jennifer but he pushed the thought aside for the moment, unwilling to hurry Jennifer and lose the magic of this moment.

They sat opposite each other in the room and ate their chicken and beef satays with vegetable samosas, toasting each other with the carefully selected champagne Peter had ordered. As they talked of the day, the little they could recall surprised them.

Finally, there was nothing left to either eat or drink and they had nothing left to discuss.

Again, Jennifer could not look Peter in the face. Her thoughts of what to expect troubled her.

"Stand up," Peter said with mock severity.

She quivered as she stood head still down.

"You can't sleep in your jewellery. What would Santa say?"

She giggled, but quickly became serious as Peter kissed the pendant from her throat and the earrings from her ears. When she began to tremble, Peter calmed her.

"Don't be frightened Jennifer, I love you." He bent to kiss her yet again.

As they broke their kiss, Jennifer cleared her throat.

"Just give me a couple of minutes."

She'd already decided she wouldn't allow Peter to undress her. Instead, she opened her suitcase, took out her negligee and fled to the bathroom.

With the bathroom door locked behind her, Jennifer gave way to her tears. Her body had betrayed her on this of all days. She had realized her body's weakness when she changed into her 'going away' clothes at the reception and had taken precautions. Now she knew her worst fears had been realized.

Her mind was in torment as she questioned why had this happened to her. Tonight of all nights, she didn't want this to happen! She knew that Peter would want to make love with her and she admitted she wanted him so badly. Her body ached for him and yet she could not give in to those wants. She couldn't.

Jennifer suspected that he'd be disappointed and angry and blame her, but she knew it wasn't her fault. She hadn't planned for this to happen.

Why, why, why had this happened now? She wanted to make love with him so much, but she couldn't. She wouldn't. Then her thoughts cleared as she realized that she'd soon find out whether Peter's generosity with material things also extended to his love for her.

Slowly she unzipped her dress and pulled it off in one move, then slid her panties down her legs and unhooked her bra. Her mind was in such torment it was a wonder that she was able to change at all with her hands shaking as much as they were.

Jennifer slipped the negligee over her head and down over her naked body. She looked at herself in the bathroom mirror.

It was the most beautiful negligee that she had ever owned.

Trying to clear her mind of all her fears, she remembered her mother had given it to her, along with the many nervous jokes from everyone else at her bridal shower.

Peter's flattery aside, Jennifer knew she wasn't a stunning beauty. Her eyes caught the glint of her wedding ring and her heart beat at an even madder pace. She fussed with her hair, trying to make herself as alluring as possible then switched off the light and took a deep breath.

With her hand on the door lock, she stood in thought.

"Well, I can't put off the evil moment forever," she said to herself.

She unlocked the door.

Desperately Peter fought the desire to grab, but deep down he knew he had to tread warily if their honeymoon was to be a treasured memory.

It took Jennifer's eyes a second to adjust to the dim light.

Peter had draped his shirt over the single desk lamp and the room had a soft romantic glow. He had also turned the sheets down and was standing alongside the bed, wearing what looked to be a light blue robe. His huge frame filled out the robe better than any model Jennifer had seen in any catalogue.

Somehow, the sight made her start walking towards her new husband. That movement across the carpeted floor seemed as long as any marathon in history. She felt the negligee as it brushed her bare skin hidden beneath it.

Peter watched her approach with wide eyes. As she noticed his expression, Jennifer had a quick thought that his heart was probably pounding just as hard as hers - if not harder!

As she neared him, he held his arms out to her and smiled.

"Mrs. O'Brien, you are the loveliest woman I have ever seen."

She halted in front of him, placing her hands on his arms and running them to his broad shoulders. "And you, Mr. O'Brien, are the most handsome husband that any girl could ever expect."

Jennifer felt Peter slip his hands around her waist and pull her towards him. Her hands moved from his shoulders to around his neck as he leaned down to kiss her. The feeling, as her new husband held and kissed her, while wearing so scandalously little was indeed intoxicating.

Their lips parted and their tongues glided against each other's, tentatively. She felt Peter's grip around her body tighten and he drew her harder against his firm body.

Their kiss deepened and a soft moan escaped Jennifer's lips. Peter's mouth swallowed the sound. His mouth was driving her wilder with excitement with each passing moment. She felt his hands moving over her back, trying to explore her like a new toy for the first time. Her nipples - not covered by a bra - hardened as her breasts flattened against his powerful chest. Their lips ground against each other's more and more desperately.

She didn't want this moment to ever end.

Suddenly she became all too aware of something protruding into her belly. Peter's manhood had come to full attention and was jutting out from between the flaps of his robe. She could feel its heat through the thin silk and she pressed her lower body tighter against him in an effort to feel it more clearly.

Desperately Peter fought his desire. Deep down he knew he had to take things slowly.

She had moved into Peter's arms and didn't struggle as he carried her to their bed.

The moment he lay beside her and turned her into his throbbing body, her mind returned to the awful thought that she had to refuse him. Hiding her face in his shoulder Jennifer began weeping.

"Please Peter. I can't." Piteously, she lifted her eyes and sobbed, "I'm sorry. My period has started."

"Good Lord!" Peter held her very close, pulling her face against his chest. Although shocked by the sudden turn of events, he desperately tried to make light of her admission.

"Is that why you're crying? I thought it was something serious."

Jennifer could hardly believe her ears. Leaning back from his arms she stared deep into his eyes through her tears. She tried to reconcile what she knew to be his bitter disappointment with the words he'd just spoken.

Peter rolled her onto her back and stared into her eyes.

"Jennifer, why are you so worried when I feel so relieved?" A chuckle rose from deep within his chest and Jennifer's tears stopped, as she looked even more perplexed.

"All day I've been worrying that you were only marrying me for my body." Peter joked, rejecting the sad feeling of refusal as it struggled to gain strength. "I'm more than a sex object you know. I've been terrified you'd want to play with my body all night and not allow me any sleep."

Tittering, she rolled against Peter so close that every curve of her delightful body, holding promise of such pleasure, fitted into Peter. Gently he ran his hands over her negligee, exploring her body so softly and so carefully so as not to arouse her or worry her. He restrained his exploration to her back and shoulders.

Suddenly he rolled onto his back and shouted at the ceiling.

"Dear Dorothy Dix, what the hell do I do now?"

He felt a pillow biff him and he wrestled Jennifer until she lay beneath him. He stroked her face until her laughter ceased.

"Still worried?" he enquired.

She shook her head.

"No."

"How do you feel, Mrs. O'Brien?"

"I feel good," she replied.

"Can I have a feel to check?"

Jennifer gurgled. "Oh no, you don't! Didn't you hear what I said?" Pulling Peter's head to her shoulder, she lay quietly, stroking his cheek.

Against her neck, he murmured softly, close to her ear. "Tomorrow you'll be in a new country. While you're there you might find the girls at work were correct about your honeymoon being a study tour of bedroom ceilings."

The tension was broken.

Their sleep was fitful - little catnaps snatched between whisperings, lots of kissing and becoming accustomed to each other's bodies and the noises they made. All night Peter was painfully aware that Jennifer's softness was calling him. Her femininity drugged him and he wondered whether she knew.

Jennifer lay there, eyes closed, amazed at Peter's reaction to the bad news. She could feel his 'maleness', his 'boy's germs' as Andrew and she called them when children. He felt so hard and so, well, delicious she could feel herself reaching out to entice him.

'But I can't,' she thought. 'I won't, I want it to be unique not spoilt by anything, as there can be no repetition. The first time must be special. I can't. I won't.' The thoughts hammered into her consciousness.

"Are you showering with me this morning, Mrs. O'Brien?" Lightly Peter kissed her eyelids open.

"No, I am definitely not. There wouldn't be room under the shower for the three of us," she added pushing him to the floor.

Later in the afternoon, at the airport, Eric, Elizabeth and Andrew were waiting when Peter and Jennifer arrived. They hugged the newlyweds and talked so much that strangers must have thought the young couple had been away for years.

When Andrew helped Peter with the bags, Peter reminded him of the family's plans.

"Say nothing. Jennifer doesn't know." Grinning, Peter continued, "If our friends don't meet us we will be honeymooning in Victoria."

"You should have stayed on last night." Andrew laughed as he clutched his head. His bleary eyes showed his night had been long, very long. "Ted, Bob and I caused problems for Mum. I'm sure she believed we were playing musical beds. The place was so crowded we joined your Ghurkha friends in the shearing shed. Boy, can they play cards and can they drink! They're bloody dangerous. Dad crept out and joined us. We dragged a coupled of kegs over and had a party."

Then he smiled.

"But I suppose that would have been a poor substitute for your night." His cheeky grin showed he wasn't being vulgar.

As they joined the others, Andrew slid his arm across his brother-in-law's shoulders.

"Don't know what you've done with Jennifer," he guffawed. "She's radiant. Look at her - all eyes for you."

Peter could see Bill Williams waving to him. Susie burst through the crowd to hug Jennifer. Big Bill hoisted Jennifer off her feet and kissed her on her nose.

"That was the best wedding we've attended, and as for this fellow," Bill paused to pat Peter's shoulder, "Actually a dark horse."

Jennifer struggled from Bill's grasp.

"Well get on with it," Susie urged Bill. "Bill, give Jennifer their tickets and passports."

"This makes everything official. Here are your First Class Tickets and Peter's passport." Smiling broadly he continued, "Mrs. O'Brien this is your brand new passport. Took a bit of getting it in your married name seeing you were only married yesterday but I've got friends."

"Look out Asia here we come!" Peter's voice showed the relief he felt.

"Oh Peter," Jennifer hung around Peter's neck, her feet off the floor, "I'm so lucky. Imagine travelling First Class." She turned to Susie. "Thank you for all your support."

Hugging Susie she added, "Thanks for being our friend." Reaching up to kiss Bill she bubbled, "Bill, I'm so happy."

With all the formalities of boarding completed and their seatbelts tightened, they held hands as the jet clawed its way aloft.

"When your four 'sisters' said they'd be seeing me in this coming week and I asked where, all they did was giggle." Jennifer turned from the view of Melbourne to speak to Peter.

One of the cabin crew interrupted their whisperings. "Captain's compliments! His best wishes to Mr. and Mrs. O'Brien." The hostess handed them each a brimming glass of champagne and left them the bottle to consume.

Nine hours later, as the plane began its long descent into Singapore Jennifer ignored Peter. With her nose pressed to the window, she watched the fairy lights of the city appear.

They stepped out of the air-conditioned arrivals' lounge onto the footpath into what Jennifer believed was a wall of heat and humidity.

When their black limousine swung into the kerb to meet them, the driver jumped out to greet Peter most warmly in Cantonese. Jennifer wasn't surprised. With their luggage safely loaded and between comments on the passing scenery, Jennifer turned to Peter.

"Remind me," she demanded. "Which hotel, did we decide on?"

"Surely there's only one for honeymooners like us. Raffles - Somerset Maugham country."

The moment the room boy left and closed the door, Jennifer skipped from room to room exploring.

"Heavens! Surely these rooms aren't all for us? There's a writing room, a lounge room and a bathroom that's gigantic. This is beautiful, Peter. Look at the furniture - all that cane work - exquisite. Listen! The fans creak as they revolve. This is beautiful."

"Are you too tired to eat?" Peter asked, hoping that she'd want to go out and explore the eateries close by the Hotel. "Or shall we order room-service? How about we at least go down to the bar and have a famous Raffles Gin Sling and perhaps follow the tiger's footsteps?" He went on to explain the story of the tiger entering the billiard room many years previously.

Jennifer was excited at the prospect of the Gin Sling option. Hurriedly they showered and changed before exploring the hotel and its surrounds.

In the bar, they sipped the Gin Slings and soaked up the atmosphere. Peter ordered a light meal of Nonya Laksa. Expensively dressed people from all nationalities chattered among themselves. In the background soft mood music played, and Jennifer immediately reminded Peter of the night when they first met.

"To think I believed you were gay!" They were still laughing as they headed back to the room.

In bed, Peter held her again, but at least tiredness muted the ache of his desire. They slept until the first call to prayer at the local mosque rang in their ears. The boom, boom, boom of a drum, then the rising cadence of the Imam's call to prayer woke Jennifer.

Startled, she shook Peter awake. "My god what's that? What's going on? It's the middle of the night. Has war broken out?"

"It's day already, that's a call to the faithful for prayers. Don't worry you're safe," was Peter's reply as he wrapped Jennifer in his arms and began kissing her shoulder.

"The sun will be up in a few minutes as it's very quick in the tropics. One minute it's dark - the next it's broad daylight. This is the coolest part of the day."

Then, realizing the frostiness that met his kisses, he lay still, cuddling her.

As the day heated, he rose and suggested she join him for a swim.

"I can't," was her excuse as she patted Peter's hand. "Off you go, I'll rest for a while and then I'll come down. We'll have breakfast together and go exploring."

It was not long before screaming and shouting disturbed Jennifer, drawing her to the windows. Throwing open the shutters she leaned out, needing to discover what was causing the fuss.

Below were well-manicured gardens, palms, lawns and the pool. Peter had dropped the robe he had worn from the room and his sarong lay around his ankles. Standing at the edge of the pool clad only in the briefest of swimmers he was about to dive in.

Gardeners, room boys and servants were all pointing at him and shouting. More and more were pouring out into the garden area and pointing at his back. Shutters swung open and more heads poked out as guests wondered what was causing the cacophony. Fingers pointed and arms rose until someone from the office appeared and approached Peter.

It was obvious by the gesticulations that this person was questioning Peter about his back, until Peter tired of the nonsense and roared a message in Cantonese that resounded throughout the hotel. He threw his head back and roared again in Tamil and there was a deathly silence as, much crestfallen, the workers returned to their work.

Day after day, Singapore swallowed them in spite of the heat and humidity. Every street corner offered a new kaleidoscope of life - sounds, colors, smells and tastes. Each night they collapsed into bed, but the moment Peter allowed himself to become amorous, Jennifer froze and, becoming tense, rejected his advances.

Peter knew he was becoming irritable under the strain, but tried to hide his tension behind a screen of false jollity.

Then one night, Jennifer's words, as she slipped into the bed beside him, revealed she had noticed. "I'm sorry Peter, it's not my fault." Weeping she sobbed, "But why have you kept me at such a distance?"

"You're being silly again. There's no blame. If I've kept my distance, it's because I'm terrified I'll lose my self-control. My body's been a raging inferno - a bush-fire almost out of control every moment of the day.

"Walking beside you in the street makes me want to grab you. Studying your bum as you sashay up the escalators in front of me turns me on. Shopping or here in this room I'm on fire. Many times, I've had to pull back from ripping down the bathroom door and chasing you around and around the shower. If I don't hold you at a distance I'll eat you right up and not even spit out the bones."

Giving a bear-like growl, he began chewing her ears and neck in a mock ferocious manner.

Laughing at the pictures he had put in her mind, Jennifer pulled him against her breasts and ran her hands over his back.

Peter's hands brushed her negligee from her shoulders but his kisses and fingertips brought no response. It was time to sleep, yet as he dozed, he began to doubt her excuse. How would he know if she was telling the truth? Women were a mystery to him and he'd never listened to men's coarse jokes about such things. Oh well, why would he worry? At least he was sleeping beside the woman he loved.