So, there I was, on my fucking honeymoon, locked out of the main bedroom in the grand suite, because my new bride got drunk and took some guys back with her to fuck her there. The guys didn't like that I was present and felt deceived or betrayed or whatever that she was married, so they took it out on me and locked me out of the main room in the suite until they were done with her.
This wasn't what I had in mind when I granted Jill a hall pass and demanded one in return for the duration of the honeymoon. It was her idea, which was funny because she had been the one to convince me that she could give me enough to make monogamy worth my while. No sooner did we get married and go on our honeymoon, but she pulled this stunt out of left field. It didn't look, or feel good for that matter. She asked me to tag along to..participate, but the other guys stopped being cool with that once they knew that I was her husband.
I wasn't sure what exactly Jill had been drinking other than tequila. Given that the last sex that she and I had was on our wedding night itself, I wasn't in the mood to put up with it. No sex, not even the hot, messy, steamy sex that we had that first night, which included anal, was worth being kicked or locked out of my own bedroom. The fact that it wasn't our home master bedroom wasn't the point. This was a serious breach of contract here and there would be hell to pay.
At this point, I didn't care what she did or thought or if she was sincere about my own hall pass or not. I was going to fuck another woman, maybe two, maybe three, and then I would leave, probably just go home early. Part of me wondered if I could cash in the rest of her credit for the round trip ticket. It would be fucking hilarious to leave Jill stranded back in Barbados while I went home and changed all of the locks. Yeah, I was pretty sure that I was done with her.
Hell, since we didn't have kids together, I could just cash it all in, catch a cruise, or slip away to another part of the same island and fuck anything that moved. Or I could leave for Europe or Cancun or something. I didn't have to put up with this shit from anyone and I refused to do so. Jill's behavior since our arrival the day before had just gotten weirder and weirder still. I didn't need this crap and I refused to stick around for more like a glutton for punishment.
I grabbed what I could pack together and crammed into my suitcase, jumped into the shower to clean up from where I had apparently puked out my guts, and then dried off quickly. I brushed, flossed, used mouthwash, and got dressed in a hurry. I didn't want to see Jill, not right now. I didn't want to lose my cool to that extent. She had broken our pact and I was livid enough that I didn't trust myself not to commit murder or something like that in a fit of rage.
I took what I could get, grabbed my keys (this was an older building that had physical, manual locks and keys, no fancy key card system), and took them to the front desk. The concierge expressed some surprise and regret that I opted to depart so soon, but the expression on my face made it clear that I was in earnest. He could see that I was quite grim and that I wasn't having the good time that I intended on my honeymoon. It wasn't his fault, but Jill's. Even so, I wasn't going to stick around for this kind of disrespect.
"I assure you, sir, that I do not blame you or any of your staff for this...situation. It was my bride at fault and she will pay for it. One way or another. There will be hell to pay and nothing to give the Devil," I told the man as I relinquished the keys and only took a partial refund that wouldn't include today.
While I didn't enjoy the thought of covering for the rest of the day that began hours earlier (it had taken some time, of course, to get everything in order for my departure), I didn't want Jill to have any warning just yet. I wanted her to be oblivious to her plight until it was far too late to reverse it. I abruptly decided to cash in her return trip ticket, after all, which she had foolishly left out in the open and I took with me. This could potentially land her in legal trouble with the authorities, as Barbadian law required foreign citizens to have a return trip ticket with them during their stay as proof of their intent to return.
I smirked as I paid a decent gratuity to the concierge for his trouble and departed in a taxi for the airport. I hadn't slept any, but I just wanted out of there as soon as I could leave. I could sleep on the plane, after all. I would take my vacation, soon enough, but it was time to handle some business, legal, marital, and financial in nature. I wanted my life completely disentangled from Jill's. Her own messy situation would make it rather difficult to stop me, which was another reason to leave her stranded in another country. She would have to overcome that hurdle first, before even worrying about me.
When I made it to the airport, I rushed to get my refund, even as the ticket agent looked at me with some surprise. She noticed that I had paid for both and wanted a refund, but that my bride wasn't with me. There were unasked questions in her eyes, but she coughed and I noticed that she had a wedding band on her left hand. I naturally wondered if she was a better wife to her husband than Jill was to me. I hoped so, but my brief experience of marriage left me a bit jaded about the institution, of course.
"We had some...irreconcilable differences about some things. It looks as if she's staying here longer than I am. I have no intention of enduring her disrespect. This is going to be a very short marriage, I would say," I announced now, causing her to raise her eyebrows.
"Well, sir, if you should ever wish to return here on your own terms, we shall welcome you back. It's just a thought. I married a Yank, and he began here as a tourist. It can be a very warm welcome for you, as it was for him," the ticket agent reassured me, her hand hovering over mine just enough to make me wonder what kind of marriage they had.
Was she hitting on me? I had to keep wondering for now. It was time to get the hell out of the country and Stateside, so I could cut the legal and financial strings that attached me to Jill. I was done with her and I didn't want anything to do with her ever again. It would be a disappointment for those in my family who had high hopes for her as my wife and for our marriage. They would just have to get over it.
I boarded the plane with surprising speed after that, and then found myself dozing off on the flight, eager to get to JFK in New York City pronto. From there, I would have to fly back to Phoenix, which would require some layovers, of course. Even so, I would get home well ahead of Jill, and she wouldn't know what hit her. I also did my best to cut off all sources of funding to the bitch, so as to make her situation even more dire and prevent any kind of retaliation from her to me. I didn't expect to have to refund anything, anyway, if I got my annulment, after all.
I awoke to find the ticket agent next to me, having evidently boarded the plane soon after I fell asleep (which I did almost immediately after I sat down). She had her head on my right shoulder, much to my shock, and when I rose to go to the john, I had no choice but to awaken her. We were somewhere high in the sky over the Atlantic, I realized, perhaps above Nassau or whatever. I must have been out for a little while, I knew. I was sure that she'd fall back asleep.
Instead, almost as soon as I was in the lavatory to piss, she opened the door, and bent over the cramped sink next to me. Her skirt was pulled back up to her waist and her panties were down. I did my business and went to wash my hands, but she did that for me, and then bent over again in an obvious invitation. I was pretty hard-up right then, due to having missed out on planned honeymoon sex, so I did what came naturally in my half-groggy state. I slid into her slick, wet pussy and began pumping in several strokes, even as she started playing with her own anus.
That really jolted me a bit and I took the hint, sliding my fingers up her ass, while I saw her biting her bottom lip good and hard. The more I fucked her, the more she began bucking her hips and pushing back hungrily at me on every last thrust. I had never been intimate with a black woman before, but if she was typical, I would have to consider it more often. I had also never been with another man's wife, come to think of it, and it was heady wine to plant some kind of horns on another man so soon after others planted them on me.
