Chapter 6

Kenny was moving in slow motion, the memory of the orgasm still suffusing his body. He made his way around the bed to ‘his’ side and fell face down. Emma was still posed where she had been, head down in the sheets, butt pointing up and away from him. As he watched, she moved herself on her elbows until she was facing the top of the bed and slowly fell into a prone position.

They lay there next to each other, semi-comatose, trying to recover. She shifted in the bed and he felt her arm flop across his back.

“Are you awake?” she asked.

“Sort of. Maybe.”

“Yeah, me, too. Nothing is like you think it’s going to be.”

“Huh?”

“I thought I would have been able to predict how I’d respond to certain things, like I’d already learned just what my limits were, what I’d like, what I wouldn’t, the strength of my responses, like that. None of it has happened the way I thought it would.”

She fell silent. Eventually, he summoned the energy to ask, “Are you talking about sex?”

“Yes, of course. I already told you about how surprised I was at how I reacted to you inside me, about your tongue on me, even that surprising finger in my ass and how it made me vibrate.

“But take the dildos and the vibrator, for example. When I saw them being used in pornos or heard my friends talking about them, I never got a sense of the power of them, not until I tried it for myself. And it knocked me for a loop. I could get addicted, you know. And it’d be all your fault. Just so you know.

“The latest surprise was that thing you pushed into my butt. I liked the finger, it felt good, but it was like right on the borderline of what I was comfortable with because it wasn’t too big. So when I felt you pushing that thing into my ass ... well, I panicked. It felt much, much bigger than I knew it actually was and I felt myself shouting “No, no, it’s going to really hurt!’

“Except it didn’t. By the time I got my panic under control I realized that it felt amazing. I could feel an orgasm coming on and it was somehow different from the others, a different feeling, but really good in its own way. And combined with your big thing pounding into my pussy, well, ... It left me helpless. And now I feel like I’m kind of a closet slut, because I like it.”

He had to think about his response, because he felt like this was important and it was crucial to get this right for her.

“I think ‘slut’ is an easy description for someone who likes doing something you may not be comfortable with, a way of delineating yourself from them. Just in case what they’re doing doesn’t meet your group’s approval. Your friends, your family, the people in your church or the PTA.

“Everybody’s got their own hidden turn-ons, things that they find arousing. Others may not share them, as you may not share theirs. But you’re responsible only to yourself. Part of us growing up is finding out the things that push our buttons. My personal feeling is that anything we do is fine as long as it doesn’t hurt us or hurt someone else, physically or emotionally.

“If things in your butt gets your engine running, why is it anyone else’s business? It makes you feel good, and it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else. That’s the only thing you need to know.”

She was quiet for quite a long time, and he was falling asleep again.

“You don’t mind if I’m a little kinky like that?”

He snorted. “Mind? It gives me a hard-on to see how much it turns you on. I’m looking forward to seeing what other kinks you have.”

She gave him a light punch on the back. “Thanks.”

They both fell asleep. When he woke, he turned his head to face her and found himself eye-to-eye with the Rabbit dildo. He placed it behind him and raised his head to look at the hotel’s digital clock on the end table. It was getting late, they should think about dinner.

He turned over on his back, then sat up and stretched. He could feel some aches in certain muscle groups, the ones he’d been exercising most recently. He’d let her sleep, but maybe a shower would be the right thing, wash his hair, then dinner.

He ran the water, and while it warmed he brushed his teeth again. He found the shampoo he’d packed and stepped into the shower with it. He soaped up while he thought about what Emma had said.

She was right, people were judgmental, applying arbitrary rules – which varied with your upbringing, your religion, the town you lived in, your family – to the behavior of others. We’d been talking about sexual behavior, but it also applied to sociological, political and almost every kind of behavior.

Kenny and his family had always had a sort of ‘live-and-let-live’ attitude to other people. Emma’s parents were more rigid in their beliefs. He was surprised that it hadn’t rubbed off on her more.

He heard the shower curtain being pulled aside. “Anyone home?” she called. “FedEx here. Did you order a booty?” She stepped into the shower and pulled the curtain closed.

“Yes, I did. I’m afraid I broke the previous one. From overuse. This replacement looks perfect.”

She smirked at him. “Bet your ass it is. Pass me the soap.”

Kenny washed his hair while he watched her soaping herself. “Jesus,” he thought, “who needs Netflix when I’ve got this at home.”

When he was done, he toweled himself off and started to dry his hair, while she finished showering. He went to find clean clothes and deodorant, then dressed. He sat on the bed and watched the show as she found the clothes she wanted to wear and got presentable.

“Okay, how do I look?” she asked, twirling.

“They won’t know what hit them. Let’s go eat, I’m hungry.”

In the elevator, the car stopped at the floor below theirs and an older couple stepped on, then faced the front of the car as the doors closed and the elevator proceeded down. With the couple’s backs in front of them, Emma reached over, grabbed Kenny’s dick through his pants, and gave it a squeeze before releasing it. He choked, then coughed and said, “Excuse me” to the group. Emma smiled demurely.

They found the dining room and joined the short line waiting to be ushered in.

“So I’m thinking the Lobster Thermidor, caviar, and a really decadent and expensive bottle of wine. You?”

He said sarcastically, “It’s such a relief that we have your family trust fund to support your extravagant tastes. Otherwise I’d have to put in eight hours in the kitchen washing dishes to pay for it.”

“You’re such a stick-in-the-mud, Kenny. Ooh, look, there’s Barbara and her husband!” She waved, and Barbara made ‘join us’ motions with her hands. Her husband still looked a little stunned, not quite used to the ‘married’ label. Emma spoke to the maître d’, he nodded and presented an elegant ‘go right in’ wiggle of his fingertips to her.

“Classy joint for a tourist trap,” thought Kenny as he followed Emma to the table. Emma was already doing a happy cheek kiss with the woman she’d called Barbara. Barbara looked to be early to mid-twenties, taller than Emma, makeup perhaps a little overdone, and the blonde hair definitely from a bottle. She was animated and laughed easily.

While they chattered, Kenny extended his hand and introduced himself to her husband. “Nice ta meetcha,” he said to Ken. “Barb told me she’d met your wife in the spa. Where ya from?”

So they traded details while Emma and Barbara caught each other up with all that had happened since lunch. He hoped that she edited the report judiciously.

“So,” said Emma to Barbara, a little louder to be heard across the table, “this is the famous Kenny, my husband. Kenny, Barbara, who I mentioned to you earlier.”

They exchanged greetings, and the waiter took that moment to arrive with menus. Kenny told him that he and Emma would be on one bill, the other two on another. Emma ordered another margarita while he was here and he jotted it on his order pad, and Barbara ordered a refill of hers.

Bob looked to be already working on his second.

“Well, I’m hungry,” he said to no one in particular, and opened the menu.

Once they had ordered and the waiter hurried off, they settled in to the hard business of being chatty and convivial. Barbara made up for whatever shortcomings Kenny and her husband, Bob, had as conversationalists.

He thought that Emma and Barbara seemed to get along well, and wondered if that was because they were actually simpatico or just that they were both women, who always had seemed to him to bond easily even after having just met.

Kenny was sitting next to Bob, only because Emma had claimed the seat right next to Barbara so they could talk more easily. So that left the two males as dinner companions.

They hadn’t much in common that they’d yet discovered, so they fell back on the obvious points of affinity. Bob and Barbara had been married the same weekend as he had. They were from a different state, and felt this hotel was an exotic and romantic destination. They were here for a week, then back to home and job.

They had known each other for less than a year. He thought she was hot and a lot of fun, liked to have a good time, and had some common interests. He had been getting tired of the dating scene, haunting the bars looking for pickups, was beginning to think his buddies were more like college bros than friends, so marriage seemed like the next logical step.

Kenny hunted for a hint that there was love involved here, but wasn’t seeing it. He thought that was a shame, and predicted that they’d both wind up unhappy in a year or two.

Bob asked about him and Emma, how they’d met, how they got along. Kenny gave him the edited details, leaving out her prim, pre-marriage life, and told him he thought she was about as perfect as a woman could be. Bob, he thought, looked slightly envious at that.

Emma and Barb had been chattering non-stop, and now they decided by some hidden, woman-only telepathy that they both needed to use the rest room. They excused themselves, leaving Bob and Kenny sitting uncomfortably together.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence, then Bob asked, “So. Are you finding married life, well, unsettling, I mean from the viewpoint of when you were single and going out with lots of different women, trying to score? I’m finding it a little odd. I feel like I should be looking around, seeing who’s available and interested. It’s gonna take me a while to get out of that head.”

“Umm, I can’t say I do, find it unsettling, that is. It was odd, once I met Emma and we started talking, connecting, it was like my interest in other women, as potential scores, I mean, well, the interest just disappeared. Emma was the only one I wanted to be around. Maybe I didn’t play the field enough or something.”

“So you don’t look around, like here for example, and rank the other women, wonder what they’re like behind closed doors?”

“Not really. Emma’s the one I want. I mean, I can appreciate a beautiful woman, but there’s not really any of that speculation attached to it anymore.”

“Okay, I can see that. You’re lucky. It may take me some time to get my head into married life. Barb is fun and hot and we get along great, but I find myself unconsciously looking around, checking out the competition, when we’re out. One of these days she’s gonna catch me at it and the hammer’s gonna fall.” He shook his head, ruefully.

“Not worth it, man. Eyes front, lots of compliments, flowers, lots of little presents, that should be your mantra.”

Before he could reply, the two women returned, giggling conspiratorially. And right behind them, the waiter and a busboy carried loaded trays their way.

Dinner was decent. He’d had better food elsewhere, but this had been pretty good, considering how many guests the hotel was hosting. The kitchen must be a masterpiece of efficiency, an assembly line for food production. He wondered if they offered tours.

The waiter came and dropped off dessert menus, asked if they wanted coffee, while the busboy cleared their dishes. He noticed that Barb was looking a bit giddy and was starting to slur her words. Bob had started to look a little glazed. Maybe he’d had one or two before dinner.

Emma had decided that she wanted dessert after all, and chocolate mousse was her choice.

That made Barb want to order something, too, so it was ice cream and strawberries. He and Emma had coffee, but the other two passed.

“So Barb and I decided that we need to swim tomorrow. Because we both have new bathing suits that need to get used or they will have been a waste of money. And that’s just un-American. So swimming. Tomorrow. You, too, Kenny. That’s an order.”

Kenny turned to Bob and said with a sigh, “You remember when we were single and we could do what we wanted? Those days are gone. All gone.” Bob knew it was a joke and smiled, but he looked sad, too, as if there was more truth there than he wanted to admit.

The bills came and there was a little confusion while they straightened out who had what.

They signed and dropped their napkins on their plates. There was an awkward moment while they wondered quietly to themselves if there was something else required of the evening, or if they were done.

“Well, Barb and I are going to have one more drink in the bar,” announced Bob. “Care to join us?”

“I think not tonight,” Kenny told them. “I’m feeling pretty tired, and a drink will just knock me flat.” He was careful not to solicit Emma’s opinion, because she might want to gossip more with Barb, but Barb was looking like she was on the edge of losing the capacity for rational speech.

He was just a bit surprised that Emma hadn’t pushed for another drink, as she and Barb seemed to be getting along. Nonetheless, they said their good nights and promised to meet tomorrow. They waved as the other two walked off unsteadily.

“So what’d you think? She’s fun,” pronounced Emma.

“I didn’t get much of a chance to evaluate her, since you were monopolizing her from the moment we sat down. Leaving me with Bob, who was as riveting as an insurance salesman discussing actuarial tables.”

She snorted. “Oh, come on, it couldn’t have been that bad.”

“I didn’t find much in common with him, he doesn’t seem to have many interests, except maybe football.” They pushed the button for the elevator.

“Well, to be honest, I haven’t spoken with him at all,” said Emma. “What I know of him I learned from Barb. They get along.”

“I hope so. When I asked him how married life was going, there didn’t seem to be much excitement there. It was almost like what I was speculating about back in the room. She seems like a nice girl. I hope he puts some effort into this.”

He went on to tell her about Bob’s roving eye and how he thought it might be an artifact from his bachelor days, but it was still there.

“And you don’t, Kenny? Really? Did you speculate about Barb, what she looks like under that dress, what she’ll do?”

“No. That’s what I told Bob – in a general sense, not about Barb specifically, of course. I told him that once you and I met, I stopped speculating about other women, stopped looking around. He actually looked a bit envious, like he wished he could have had that happen to him.”

The elevator dinged for their floor and they stepped off. “That’s too bad,” she said. “I like Barb, I wish she could be as happy as I am. Maybe she is, but if Bob is like you say he is, it may not last long.”

He opened the door to their room and went in. Emma flopped onto the bed on her back, arms akimbo. “Well, I’m stuffed. And maybe a little tipsy. Perhaps I’m liking margaritas a bit too much. I’ll stop tomorrow. Right now I’m feeling too good.”

“I’m happy for you. I’m going to brush my teeth.”

He took care of that, and when he came out she was in the same position, staring at the ceiling.

“Margarita withdrawal?” he asked.

“No, just feeling a bit sad about Barb and Bob. When you mentioned it, I realized that I had gotten some of the same vibe, from her, meaning the way that he interacts with her. I hope he works his way out of that.”

“Those were actually my parting words to him, just as you came back from the ladies room, before the food arrived. I told him, eyes front, lots of compliments and little gifts, flowers. Whether he takes the advice is another matter.”

“You haven’t given me flowers recently.”

“Jesus, woman, I spent all my money on sex toys for you! Cut me a break. I’ll get you flowers when I get my next paycheck.”

“Just reminding you. In case you forget. I’m going to get changed.” She got up and rummaged in her suitcase, then closed the door of the bathroom behind her.

Kenny kicked off his shoes and lay back on the bed, feeling a bit lazy. He found the TV remote on the nightstand and channel-surfed, winding up in the middle of some action movie involving a car chase followed by a boat chase.

The bathroom door opened and Emma stepped out. “Sweet Jesus, Emma. I’m speechless.”

She was wearing a gauzy white lace baby doll nightgown that came to just below her waist, so sheer that he could see almost every detail of her body. Under it she wore lacy white panties.

“If I have a stroke, call 9-1-1, but be sure to change out of that before they get here. They’ll ignore me if they find you dressed in that. That is making me breathe fast.”

She blushed. “I wasn’t sure. Before the wedding, my girlfriends took me out to shop, because they know my mother and her taste, or lack of it, in sexy fashion. So they argued back and forth and this is one of the outfits they chose. I had to store them at a friend’s house so my mother wouldn’t find them and throw them out.”

“I’ll want to thank each of your girlfriends, personally.”

She laughed. “Oh, like I’ll ever let that happen!”

“Come here, baby. I need to examine this up close for manufacturing defects.”

He wouldn’t have thought it possible, that what she wore could make her body even sexier.

It played little tricks on his eyes, offering tiny, quick glimpses of a breast, the curve of her ass, her waist, and then hiding it a moment later while fleetingly exposing something else. It was like subliminal images flashed to the eye for an instant that left a memory, a suggestion.

He put his hands on her hips. The feel of the material between him and her body was arousing, and he didn’t know why that should be. He let his fingers drift all over her torso. He felt her body relax, lost in the sensation of his touch. He leaned down and kissed her for a long time.

When they finally pulled apart, she asked, “So you like it then?”

“I’m torn between wanting to see you parade around the room in it until I finally ejaculate spontaneously, and wanting to rip it off your body so I can lick you all over.”

“Decisions, decisions. Well, let me know when you make up your mind. What can we do in the meantime?”

“I’ll think of something. Lie down on the bed.”

She knee-walked across the bed and lay on her back. When she was comfortable, she spread her legs a little apart.

“Oh, my God! Now that’s hot.”

“I was wondering how long it would take you to notice. I actually wasn’t going to buy this, because I was too embarrassed in front of my friends, but they insisted, said it would be just the thing.”

“You should listen to your friends. They sound like smart women. I’ve got to see this up close, baby.”

He got onto the bed on his knees and looked at where her legs parted. The white lace panties were crotchless, and the two sides were lace and framed her bare pussy. “It’s beautiful,” he breathed.

He leaned in and gave it a kiss between the lace. “Hand me that pillow,” he told her. She reached beside her and passed it to him. He worked it under her ass to raise it up so he could get his chin and tongue in close.

“Just when I think you can’t get any more sexy, you fool me again, Emma.” He pushed his mouth in and licked from bottom to top, then back down, then repeated it several more times. By the time he finished pass number five, she was whimpering, her hands fluttering, touching the back of his head.

“If I could figure out a way to stay home all day and play with your body and still pay the bills, baby, I’d do it in a heartbeat. You’re perfect.”

He went back to his focus and this time found her clit and pulled it with his lips until it snapped back. She began to respond with a grunt each time he did it, then “Oh!”, then a breathless “Fuck, yes.” When he could feel her body vibrating, he attacked her clit with his tongue and fucked her pussy with two fingers.

She cried out, “Yesyesyesyes, don’t stop!” and pulled his head in closer until he was having difficulty breathing. With one last choking cough, she collapsed into the bed. He heard her saying very quietly to herself, “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck.”

He moved his fingers very slowly in and out of her cunt, because it would be sensitive now, but he loved the feeling of doing that, the way it seemed to fold around his fingers. He gave her pussy one last kiss and stood up. He started to undress.

She was still lying in the same position, eyes closed, breathing softly, looking impossibly hot.

He started thinking about chances and opportunities. What if he’d been born elsewhere, even in a different area of town, and had had a different group of friends, and he hadn’t met Emma?