Sex and Secrets

He sat up on the edge of the bed, with his back to me. I pulled the sheet over myself, suddenly feeling the need to be covered, and I moved a little further away.

“I have no right to be jealous,” he said abruptly, “but I am.”

Jealousy! No wonder I hadn’t recognized the emotion. I had never seen him jealous.

“You have no reason. Nora tried to set us up, and it’s downright funny how we have absolutely no spark. I guess it didn’t seem funny to you.”

He shook his head slowly. When he turned to face me again, a weary smile softened the blazing emotion. Was he really jealous? Of me?

He back climbed in bed next to me. I could feel the tension in his muscles when he put his arm around my shoulders. I could hear it rumbling in his voice when he spoke. He pressed his lips against my temple, each word rolling like a heavy boulder off his chest.

“It’s been killing me since Nora told me you two were here. I couldn’t stop imagining you two…”

Judging by the impressive bulge in his pants, jealousy hadn’t diminished his desire. I reached out timidly. My fingers explored the contour of his hard cock, becoming bolder, encouraged by every guttural, eager growl.

I wanted to tell him that no one had ever compared to him. That no one even came close. That I had stopped trying altogether to find anyone else. That I was desperately in love with him.

My self-preservation instinct stopped me. Lust and jealousy didn’t add up to love. If he’d been in love with me, he wouldn’t have let these years go by.

Who knew when we’d get the chance to be together again? Maybe never. I had to let go of my sobering thoughts. For one night, they didn’t matter.

I got up on my knees and pushed him onto the mattress. My hands trembled imperceptibly when I unzipped his trousers. It didn’t take me long to regain control over them. They were the hands of a painter, after all. With a brush on a canvas or with a stylus on a graphic tablet, my hands were used to creating beauty. Now, they were going to create pleasure.

His massive rigid cock fit beautifully in my palm. He growled when I squeezed his hard flesh. His hips bucked once, then he clutched at the sheets, forcing himself to be still. I lowered my head over his erection and took it in my mouth, as far as it would go. I didn’t get very far. I hadn’t practiced deepthroating from the last time we’d been together, so I nearly choked on the long, thick shaft. I came out for air and replaced my mouth with my hand. My fist slid up and down his length so much easier, now that it was coated in my saliva.

A few strokes later, he gripped my wrist, stopping me.

“If you don’t mind, I’d rather not finish in your hand. Or your mouth,” he added when I licked my lips, eager to wrap them around his cock.

“Then maybe you should do something about it.”

The next sound was the condom wrapper being torn. He rolled it with some difficulty over his raging erection and flipped me over.

“Is this what you had in mind?” he asked, slapping his cock over my pussy lips.

“Mnooo,” I moaned, aroused and frustrated.

He forced the swollen tip of his cock in my wet pulsating core.

“Is this it?”

That was exactly it. I tried to say yes, but I could only let out a shuddering breath while my inner muscles tightened, squeezing the head of his dick in an instinctive attempt to push out the intruder. He nearly slipped out, but before I could expel him completely, he thrust his hips forward, sinking a few inches in one move. The next thrust was less controlled. The one after, even less, and soon he was throwing his weight in each thrust, pounding into me with a sense of urgency that mirrored my own.

He pasted himself on top of me, most of his weight supported on his forearms. I wrapped my legs around his waist, wanting to pull him all the way onto me, to be crushed by his body, to sink into the mattress with the force of his thrusts.

A new orgasm was building up inside me, but before I could get there, he came with a loud groan. He shifted his weight from his forearms, collapsing heavily on top of me. He remained buried inside me, breathing hard against my skin.

“It’s been too long.” He sounded apologetic. “Next round will be better.”

The intimacy of our embrace, the sound of his ragged breathing, and the feel of his lips against my skin pushed me over the edge. I shuddered and my pussy clamped around his softening member. He groaned, and tried to move.

The sweetness of this orgasm unraveled me. I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip to keep the words fro

m spilling out.

I love you.

****

My three-condom pack wasn’t enough. Sometime before dawn, Fred had to sneak out of my room to bring his own stash.

The morning found us exhausted, looking for his shirt buttons. My room was going to be Bride Central, and I didn’t need anyone finding odd buttons and ask uncomfortable questions. It was bad enough that his daughter and his ex-wife would be in the room where we had six hours of hot and sweaty sex. Well, technically, five hours because we spent one fucking in the shower.

“Got it,” he said. “Last one.”

“Thank God.”

His arm snaked around my waist. He pulled me close, and kissed me. I mellowed into the smoldering kiss, which, strangely, didn’t feel like a kiss goodbye.

The alarm on my phone buzzed loudly. The day’s chores were starting soon. He held my hand, taking me to the door with him. He was still holding my hand when he stepped out.

“Have fun today,” he said from the hallway, pulling me to him for another last kiss.

#

Fun was not on Nora’s list, and, as such, I probably wouldn’t have any. I started the day showering at high speed and hoping that the room would air out enough before the many visitors showed up. I called reception and schmoozed the girl there into sending someone to clean my room immediately. I was checking the bed and the floor for errant condoms when the cleaning lady got there. I thanked her profusely and gave her a hefty tip before flying out the door.

My first task was to pick up the bridesmaids from the airport.

Melanie, Kristine and Alessandra were Nora’s friends from the university. We had met on a spring break a couple of years ago, but we had not hit it off, to say the least. They were tall, thin and gorgeous. It was difficult to tell them apart under their flawless makeup and huge sunglasses.

The sweet weariness in my bones had me in such a good mood, that not even their whiny conversation could ruin. It was like a competition of who could complain about the tiniest discomfort. By the time we got close to the hotel, they ran out of less than perfect things that happened on the trip, and they moved on to the wedding. Any moment now they were going to touch on details I had arranged. Fortunately, my nerves sang with the aftermath of a dozen orgasms. There was a good chance I could hold my tongue to keep the peace.

“That bridal shop was so incompetent,” Alessandra said in the affected nasal tone I detested. “When Nora told me how they screwed up, I told her to sue the skin off them.”