Paula's nipples tightened as mine pressed into hers, giving her a powerful and delicious sensation that was completely new to her while still kissing passionately. Shifting my footing slightly, I slid my leg between hers, slowly and gently so as not to startle her. I slipped my hands over her still-clothed ass and pulled her up against my leg, not letting her move. Holding her still, I began to slowly move my hips in a gentle but insistent rhythm. Breaking the kiss, I pulled back just a bit so our eyes locked. I wanted us looking into each other's eyes as we made love, as we fucked, as we climaxed together.
I licked my lips and I felt her grinding back against me, her eyes full of intense fire, passion for me and what we were sharing together. I dug my nails into her supple bottom as I ground my wetness against her and felt her give back with equal vigor. Her supple cheeks were flushed and red, her nipples hard, her breathing getting deeper and more rapid. I watched as her body suddenly stiffened, triggering a huge orgasm, one that I alone had given her. She whimpered and arched her back, digging her nails into my back the same way I had done to her, her pussy so wet and dripping that her juices were running down my leg a bit. Once she finished her climax, her legs buckled and her exhausted body slowly began sinking down to the ground, her back still against the pole of the tiki hut.
My own body was wound like a tight spring, seconds away from a very real orgasm right on my couch, fingering my own womanhood with a skill I have perfected over time. At that moment, I didn't care if she was straight, engaged, married, or anything other than being my lover. Questions of whether it was right or wrong, possible or not, or even real did not matter in the slightest, as I let the deeply hidden desires out with a fierceness that I do not often experience sexually. My body stiffened as my long-delayed climax tore through me without mercy, overwhelming me enough that I was unable to tell if the words I heard were in my mind or being shouted out loud. I rode the blinding orgasm out as long as possible and then sank into the couch literally spent. Once my senses returned to me, I felt a mixture of both satisfaction and shame for letting my desires wind me up so much. If nothing else, it exhausted me so physically that I fell asleep on the couch and stayed there until the next morning.
Bright sunlight assaulted my eyes viciously as I slowly opened them, quickly turning towards the back of the couch to escape it. I groaned, feeling stiff, as if my body had gone completely on strike, not moving once in the night. It took a few seconds for my senses to return to me enough for me to remember where I was sitting. Yes, it was my apartment, but after being out for drinks I had more than once woken to an apartment I didn't recognize, after a hook-up with some girl I met at the bar. Don't mistake me as promiscuous, I have had my share of mostly failed relationships over the years, but never opposed to some other fun when not otherwise tied down.
I stumbled towards the master bath with its stand-up shower and glass walls, something I had insisted on before moving in. I think my credit rating must have factored in their decision, as well as my stellar rental history, but regardless of that I was delighted and signed a multiyear lease. I turned the hot water faucet to the left to start the flow and then stepped back to prevent a blast of cold water from waking me faster than I wanted to.
Once I stepped into the warm torrent coming from the square spay head mounted on the ceiling, I sighed deeply. I have always found hot showers wonderful and relaxing, and if I am ever in a shitty mood, it centers me. As I washed my skin in the enclosed space, the news of Paula's now impending nuptials came knocking rudely in my mind. The same feeling of dread about how it would affect our relationship swept over me, and so did my little illicit fantasy session about Paula. I felt a measure of shame as if I had somehow taken advantage of her, and adding my uneasy emotions to the mix didn't do anything to make it any better.
Much to my surprise, I felt tears welling up in my eyes, and within seconds, I was bawling like it was the end of the world. I leaned up against the glass wall and my knees gave way, leaving me sprawled on the shower floor with the water hitting my legs from just above my knee all the way down to my foot. I usually fight emotional outbursts like that one, so I just rode it out for several minutes until it finally ran out of steam.
I was toweling my long wavy hair dry in front of my bedroom mirror some twenty minutes later, fully composed and ready to start my Saturday. I puckered up my lips in a pretend kiss to the reflection in the mirror and was amused by it. I am proud of my full lips, though I had gotten considerable mileage out of the curvier parts of my figure. As I reached for the hairbrush to tame my unruly locks, my phone lit up with the same image of Paula as before, though I felt a twinge of erotic remembrance from gazing at the full picture before. Unlike the moment in the shower, I was once again in full control of my sometimes fiery emotions and easily pushed the thoughts and images to some undisclosed location in my psyche.
I hit the button to answer the call and then put it on speakerphone, "Hey there, pretty girl, whatcha got going on this morning?" I asked, my voice very playful but not flirtatious. It was our first call of the day, which would lead to a host of others during the day, sometimes reaching an unbelievable number of conversations. Considering that we literally talked about everything, I never gave it so much as a second thought, although Paula's friend Cathy Perkins had wagged her finger at us once for it. She had used the "girlfriend wife" word more than once in our hearing, which made Paula blush and me laugh hysterically.
"Nothing yet, thought we could go window shopping for some wedding dresses this afternoon. We can grab lunch at that Japanese place by the mall that you like so much. She was referring to, of course, a place called Hong Cho, but we always referred to it as Hung Chow, which would piss off the owner and almost always earn us a brief lecture on cultural respect. For all of his bluster, he was a nice guy and treated us well when we ate there, which was pretty often.
"Told you I would be thrilled and delighted to be your date for the afternoon and dress you up like a princess," I said, laughing and then worrying it sounded like a sexual comment. Our banter often included faux-flirting but neither of us ever took it seriously. Well, Cathy did, but she took everything
way
too seriously.
"Well, you know how to make a girl blush. Let's say 12:30. I want to finish up before five, we can have dinner before you head home."
It's a date
I almost started to say, but suddenly very self-conscious about the playful comments. Jackson, Paula's fiance, had given me a very unhappy look the last time I had said something in his presence, and I didn't want to aggravate him unnecessarily. I doubted that Paula would tolerate being told what to do or that she had to avoid me, but I didn't want to cross that bridge, ever. "Looking forward to it," I responded after overthinking it.
Lunch at
Hung Chow
was okay but not spectacular as it usually was. The owner was nowhere to be seen, so it was probably his idiot nephew running the place at the moment. The guy was a walking disaster, and what he lacked in intelligence was shamed by his behavior, often hitting on every woman in the restaurant. I had scared the shit out of him the first time he tried that on me, so I guessed he was hiding in the back to avoid another confrontation. Fortunately a cute asian girl was the cashier today, and her form-fitting outfit gave me a minor thrill while paying the bill.
Our first stop was the legendary bridal shop,
The Blushing Bride
, and its almost stifling pretentiousness and insane prices. Still, a bride-to-be would get the royal treatment from several attendants and get to peruse what was a huge inventory of world-class gowns. I had joked with the owner, a fifty-something brunette named Iris, that any would-be thieves would bypass the jewelry store for her place for the dresses alone. I can tell I work in PR because I meant it as a joke and she turned it into a marketing campaign, and I could have charged her for it. Such is life, I try never to look back that way.
The instant we walked in the door, we were ambushed by a posse of pretty young girls who looked to be no older than 21, with perfect makeup and impeccably dressed. Paula took a step back as they rushed her, caught off guard by the overly eager aggressiveness, biting her lip anxiously as she hid behind me. She normally exuded confidence, so this was very out of character for her; I thought of it as her needing a knight in shining armor. No way, she needed a warrior princess right now, and as her maid of honor, I was more than up to the task. With a sly smile on my face, I took a quick step forward, placing my toned body between her and the well-intentioned horde of beautiful angels moving in our direction.
At the sight of me guarding my proverbial princess, the girls stopped, doe-eyed as if they had no clue how to respond, nor what my intentions were. Clearing my throat, I displayed a toothy grin, holding up one hand to bring them to a halt, which they did, some six feet away. I almost laughed at how two of the girls in the back hadn't been watching very closely and bumped into the ones in front of them.
