Chapter 56

I want to go home, I thought, sitting on the toilet in the Poconos bungalow bathroom with my face cradled in my hands, bawling my eyes out. Just a few hours after getting married.

No! That wasn’t what I wanted.

I didn’t want to go to my new home. The apartment Paul and I had gotten. I wanted to go back to my parents’ house.

That’s what I was thinking as Paul first tapped and then pounded on the bathroom door. Not once. Over and over again. But I ignored him. I was on my honeymoon in the honeymoon capital of the world and I was miserable. Disappointed. Frightened. Convinced I had made a mistake marrying Paul. Where was the passion Paul had shown before we were married? What we had in the teacher’s lounge or even in the car? We finally had what both of us had craved. The privacy of our own room. And a bed. For God’s sake, it was our wedding night! What changed?

The knocking turned to silence. The only sounds were my heaving sobs. And then the doorknob jiggled. I lifted my head, dragging my hands down my cheeks, and stared through watery eyes. The knob turned all the way and the door swung open. I once again buried my face in my hands. I didn’t want to look at him.

“Leave me alone,” I said.

“Julie, please come out.”

“Go away.”

“What’s the matter?”

“Just go away.”

Paul placed a hand on my shoulder. I shrugged it off. He dropped to one knee next to me and pulled my hands off my face. He looked so worried that my heart went out to him. Like a lost puppy. He carried my hands to his mouth and kissed them, first one and then the other. I yanked them free and tucked them under my armpits as I crossed my arms.

“You don’t love me anymore,” I said.

“How can you say that? I love you more every day.”

“Then why don’t you want me?”

Paul’s eyes darted up and to the right as he thought about what I had said. And then his confusion turned to understanding.

“It’s because I wanted to count the money, isn’t it?” Paul said.

“The money is more important to you than I am.”

Paul looked down. “It’s not that.”

“Then what?”

Without looking up, Paul said, “I took out a loan to pay for the honeymoon. That’s why I wanted to know how much we got. I hope to pay the loan back.”

“What! Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want you to worry.”

“Oh, Paul.”

I was being childish. Paul was looking out for me. He had a lot of responsibilities. He was my husband, providing for me and protecting me. I pulled Paul’s head to me, pressing his lips to mine, crushing his mouth to mine. When his tongue pushed through my lips, I attacked it. I really loved Paul. Why was I mad? I flung my arms around his neck and kissed him with all the passion I had been longing for.

Paul slid an arm between my calves and the base of the porcelain toilet. His other arm went around my back with a hand on my waist. When he stood, the hand tightened on my waist and the arm behind my calves slid up to behind my knees. I was in the air—swooped up in his arms.

Never breaking the kiss, Paul carried me to the bed in the main room. The bed I had earlier prepared for our first fuck. He laid me on it without breaking the kiss. The kiss I never wanted to end. But it did. Paul pulled away.

“You look sexy,” Paul said as his eyes roamed my body decorated in sexy lingerie.

“I bought it for you.”

“Thank you.”

“I wanted this night to be special,” I said. “Our first time.”

“Why were you mad?”

“I thought you didn’t want me.”

Paul opened his pants and let them drop to his feet. He shoved his underwear down far enough for his hard cock to spring free.

“Does this look like I don’t want you?” Paul asked.

I stared at the hard cock twitching in front of me and smiled. I licked my lips.

“Please make love to me,” I said.

While Paul undressed, I gazed at his hard cock bouncing and swaying. I hadn’t had a cock inside me since Mr. Roman had died. Much too long. Fingers and tongues and a hairbrush handle were okay, but nothing compared to a cock. I wanted my pussy to be full, to clench a moving cock with my vagina muscles, feeling every ridge. My pussy moistened and my clitoris throbbed thinking about it.

Paul, now naked, placed a knee on the mattress and leaned over me. His smile was ear to ear.

“It’s time to inspect my present,” Paul said.

He brushed his fingers over my new bra. White and lacy. Again and again. First one cup and then the other. When his fingertips glided over the tips, they slid over my now erect nipples. I squeezed my thighs together and wiggled my hips. I knew that by the time he got to my sexy panties the thin material would be soaked.

Paul’s fingers toyed with the lace on the top of the bra cup and then slid underneath to touch my skin directly. I moaned. When his finger went in further and met my nipple, I bit my lower lip and clenched my pussy. I wanted to scream, to tell him to fuck me, but I lay there silent, squirming. Mr. Russo had taught me about foreplay, about the buildup. He had told me it made the fucking more intense, and he had proved it. This was my first time with Paul. I wasn’t going to rush it.

Paul leaned forward. I thought for a kiss so I opened my mouth. But his mouth didn’t go to mine. It covered my new bra and sucked my tit through it. My mouth remained open as I sucked in air. I was so caught up in Paul’s sucking that I didn’t notice him unclasping my bra. Not until he pulled it off me, leaving me lying in my sexy white panties with lace trim on the waist and leg openings, garter belt, and stockings.

With his knee sunk into the mattress, Paul straightened up. He covered his nose and mouth with one of the bra cups like a surgical mask and inhaled loudly before taking it away.

“They’re still warm,” Paul said. “And they smell like you. I love the way you smell.”

I hoped he meant that because my pussy was leaking and he was going to get a good smell of me.

Paul brushed his fingers all over my exposed skin, from my neck to the lacy waistband of my panties. Over my breasts and between them, on my belly that undulated with his touch, and everywhere else. Goose bumps popped up everywhere. His tongue soon replaced his fingers, lathing my burning flesh. When he licked and sucked and nipped my nipples, I thought I would climax. I probably would have if he hadn’t pulled away.

Paul’s lips finally found mine and his tongue entered my mouth. I grabbed the back of his head with both hands. My fingers tangled in his hair as I swiped my tongue against his. Mine moved so erratically that sometimes it missed his tongue. It collided with the inside of is cheeks, the top of his mouth, his teeth, but mostly his tongue. I flattened his lips to mine by pulling on his head.