a celebratory dinner, and I’ll need to go over the last-minute details.”
We all loaded into my car and I drove to a restaurant across town, the Queen’s Tearoom. After we’d been seated, Simon pulled out the contract I’d filled in more than six months ago and began. “Dina, Dubois, again congratulations.” We nodded. “Dina, according to the contract, there is a thirty-day, half-rate, money-back guarantee with this marriage. If after thirty days, if either of you is not satisfied or wishes to leave this marriage, please let me know. The marriage will be annulled. Dubois will then return to Extania with you paying his return fare home. Are you both clear on that?”
Simon’s talk was sobering indeed. Either of you… This was no one-way street. I could reject or be rejected. “I am.” I turned to look at Dubois, who also was no longer smiling.
“I am also.”
“Good. After the thirty-day period, no money is refundable and no passage home is guaranteed.” He looked at each of us slowly. “You must then do as any other married couple does: Work hard to stay married.” I gulped in spite of myself. “Any questions?” We both shook our heads. “Great. Let’s eat!”
3
We dropped Simon off at his hotel before heading to my room. As was fitting for the occasion, I’d secured the bridal suite. The bellboy lifted Dubois’s duffle bag and escorted us to our room. As I started to walk inside, Dubois stopped me with a hand on my arm. I gave him a puzzled look. “No, Mrs. Harrington. We are going to do this correctly.” With that, he picked me up and walked with me in his arms across the threshold. He slowly placed me back on the floor. “I plan to do everything correctly,” he whispered, eyes hooded, before planting another delicious kiss on my lips.
Blood whooshed through me. I was so ready for the bellboy to be gone, gone, gone! Dubois tipped him and closed the door. He turned to me, unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. “Ready for…us?” His fingers were soft as he stroked my chin and down the center of my chest.
My ears began ringing and my heart stuttered as his fingers rubbed my now hot skin. “I—I think so.” He lifted his fingers and I leaned in, wanting them back in contact with my flesh.
“I think so, too.” Dubois turned me, slowly pulled me to his chest. “I know we just met—officially—so…why not take it slow? Let’s get to know each other before we jump into sex,” he whispered against my neck.
Oooh. He’d read me well. Dubois and I had corresponded regularly, so I felt as though I knew this man, could trust this man. But I have to admit, I wasn’t a jump-in-the-bed-at-a-moment’s-notice type of girl. The fact is, the wedding night and what I would actually do had bothered me quite a bit. Yes, this was a far-fetched idea—one which I’d paid for dearly with my hard-earned money—but still, an unfamiliar penis just didn’t sit well with me. So I was a bit relieved at the offer to go slow instead of consummating the marriage upon sight…even if my starving pussy was screaming for some hardness to marinate in its wetness. “I think that’s a great idea.”
I felt his smile spread on my neck. “I totally agree.”
Fingers brushed against my lower back, sending frissons of excitement down my spine. “But…there are some…skills…I didn’t mention.” My dress was bunched in the back as his large hands roamed up and down my spine.
“Really? Like?”
“Making love to a woman with her clothes on.”
I shivered in joy. I was happy I would actually get a “preview” of the sex, and thus his true character, before the actual sex.
His lips pulled at my earlobe, hands roamed across my back. My nipples puckered, clit began a slow throb. Dubois’s tongue slid from my earlobe to the back of my neck, and he began to lick across my shoulder. Firm hands held me as his tongue reached the indentation in my throat, swirled around and around. I moaned.
Dubois turned me, let my back rest against his broad chest. My nipples, unmashed now, rose like frozen buttons in the cool room air. Dubois saw. I watched his hand slide upward, cover the stiff points, warm them with his fingers. I covered his hands, wanting to feel him milk my tits. He took his time strumming the soft mounds, teasing my nipples, whispering unidentifiable words in another language.
This felt better than I could have ever imagined. My head rolled around; my body hummed in anticipation of his next move.
Fingers tap-danced across my belly and down a thigh. He squeezed, then stroked my thigh, causing my dress to ride up. He hesitated when he felt the exposed flesh between my garter and hosiery. I smiled as he looked down.
“You weren’t expecting that, huh?” I teased. No high-waisted pantyhose for this chick. The garter and hose might cost more, but heck, I’m worth it.
“Definitely not.” The dress was lifted higher until my panties peeked out. His eyes roamed over me appreciatively. “God, woman, you are beautiful.” He licked his lips, causing my clit to jump.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
He groaned then, both hands rubbed up and down my thighs, agonizing rubs. I felt on fire. He nudged my chin, captured my lips beneath his. His tongue sizzled inside my mouth, taking me higher on this ride. His fingers grew bold, sliding over the skin before resting just beneath the level of my panties. I knew my panties would reveal how wet I was for him.
I held my breath as I felt his finger brush against the thin material, then my body lurched as he flicked across my clit. He leaned back, looked into my eyes. “Found your spot, eh?”
I nodded in assent. The fingers drove a torturous path around and around my clit, never touching but promising, nevertheless. My breathing was rapid, my pussy leaking copiously. I wanted this; it had been too long since I’d enjoyed this.
Dubois suddenly changed gears, let his hands drift to cover my tits again. My clit protested, but as he pulled at my stiff points, I growled deep in my throat. I loved having my tits milked and he was doing a damn good job.
His hands began moving downward again. I widened my stance, wanting to make sure he had room to work.
He noticed….
I felt the smile in my hair as he cupped my mound, thumb stroking my clit. Soft kisses rained across my ear. I slid my hands over his bald dome, wanting the connection while he loved me. His cock was like an iron pipe pushing into my hips. My pussy began a steady stream down my inner thigh as he took his time. My clit throbbed furiously, wanting, no, needing Dubois’s touch to soothe it.
He heard the wordless pheromonic call….
His fingers reached out, covered my stiff clit. I panted as he diddled, stroked, and plucked. I held on to his head as a finger slid into my leaking pussy. He stabbed my hole constantly, made me juice all over his hand. Fingers pulled my nipples, made my head roll. I moaned, undulated on his hardness at the double assault on my body. When Dubois reclaimed my clit, I felt the pinpricks surge up my legs, across my shoulders.
I screamed.
My pussy geysered.
The marriage was officially under way!
4
We started out
