Chapter 1: Friday Night

Note: Takes place during Chapter 27 While Mark and Mary are in New York City.

Mrs. Jacob Goldstein-Blum. I am Mrs. Jacob Goldstein-Blum, now.

That happy thought filled my mind as Jacob pulled our Chevy Volt into the Waldorf-Astoria Hotel's driveway. The hotel was a huge, white building in that classic art deco style that is just absolutely gorgeous. I was so excited to spend my honeymoon with Jacob here at this beautiful hotel. We just got married a few hours ago and, after a lovely reception, we hopped into our car and drove to New York City, only a half-hour drive from Butler, Pennsylvania this late at night.

I yawned. It was nearly eleven and today had been a long, but happy, day.

"Hope you're not too tired, Rachel," my husband said with a suggestive grin.

I smiled. My husband. I liked the sound of that. "Not that tired, Jacob," I said archly.

He leaned over and kissed me as the uniformed valets walked up to the car and opened our doors for us. His lips were firm and I loved the feel of his five o'clock shadow rubbing on my mouth. I've never been a fan of facial hair on a man, but I love the way his stubble feels as I ran my fingers across his cheek. Such a manly feel.

Jacob broke the kiss and I was a little breathless. Excitement bubbled in my heart as we got out of the car. Jacob slipped the valet a few bills, probably ones. He could be a little cheap at times, so I slipped a ten to the valet when Jacob's back was turned. Our luggage was loaded on one of the golden hotel carts and I adjusted my veil and we walked in.

We were not wearing our wedding clothes. My dress was far too lovely to be crammed in our little car for too long. I wore a loose, green dress, instead, that I could easily slip on. Or off, I thought with a naughty smile. Underneath, I was still wearing my lacy, white bridal lingerie. A beautiful demi-bra that cradled my breasts in lacy decadence, the silk panties, trimmed in lace, that molded to the curves of my shaved pussy. I shaved it just for the honeymoon, a surprise for Jacob. And a white garter belt that held up my thigh-high, white stockings. Jacob loved me in stockings, and he was just going shoot off in his pants when he saw me.

My husband wrapped his arm about my waist and I leaned my head against his shoulder as we walked into the Waldorf-Astoria. I was giddy with excitement as we walked up and the concierge asked us our names. "Mr. and Mrs. Jacob Goldstein," I told him with bubbly excitement.

The concierge typed in the computer. "Oh, congratulations," he told us. "I see you have booked the honeymoon suite. We will send up a complimentary bottle of champagne."

"Thanks," my husband said with a grin. He loved getting free stuff.

"What a lovely veil," a woman voice purred from behind me.

I turned to see the most stunningly beautiful woman I had ever seen. A flush burned in my cheeks. She was drop dead gorgeous. Long, auburn hair fell loosely about her bare shoulders, framing a heart-shaped face dotted with freckles. Her eyes were a deep green and her smile was hungry and sent a naughty thrill through my body, where I could feel myself starting to moisten the gusset of my satin panties.

What is wrong with you, Rachel? Get yourself together girl, I scolded myself. No one had ever so affected me before. No man, and certainly no woman. I mean, it was okay to be gay, I supposed, just not for me. But I couldn't take my eyes off of her. She wore a tight red dress that clung to her body like a sheathe, the skirt obscenely short. So short it barely covered her ass. And such a beautiful ass it was, I noticed, licking my lips.

"What do you think, Mark," she asked and I realized with a start that she was standing next to a man. I hadn't even noticed him or the others with the woman.

They were a strange group. The woman was dressed in a gorgeous party dress, her companion in an Avenging Sevenfold T-shirt and a pair of jeans. He was a tall guy, an average looking face and piercing, blue eyes. A tall woman with bleached-blonde hair stood on the other side of him wearing a slutty parody of a chauffeur's uniform. A very short, black skirt that left most of her long legs exposed, covered in fishnets stockings. A white bustier pushed up her breasts and barely covered her nipples. I could just see the pink of an aerola peaking out on her right breast. Then she wore a tiny jacket and around her bare neck, an orange and red-stripped tie that fell between her breasts. Perched on her head was a chauffeur's cap.

Four more women were dressed as slutty cops, short skirts, navy blue, with matching blouses that only buttoned half-the-way up and their breasts threatened to spill out if they sneezed. Then I noticed that all four had actual guns on their hips and their faces had the hard, professional stare of real cops.

"On your honeymoon, huh?" the man asked, his eyes feasting on me and suddenly felt naked.

"Yes," I answered, and turned away, uncomfortable with his stare.

"Yeah, we just got married," Jacob excitedly said, turning to face the group.

"I'm Mark and your wife is so pretty," the man told my husband as he shook his hand. "I want her."

"What?" Jacob asked, looking confused.

I glanced at the woman and she had that same hungry look in her eyes and I realized just what her ... boyfriend, meant. Part of me wanted to let this woman have me. If she asked me, I realized I would let her have me. I would leave my husband and come with her and let her do whatever she wanted to me. I swallowed, shifting my thighs, rubbing my aching clit to get some relief. It was like this woman enchanted me with a spell, like out of some Fairy Tale.

"Your wife is going to spend the weekend with us," Mark said in a commanding voice. "Don't worry, we'll see she's taken care of." A boyish grin filled his face. "We'll make sure she cums a lot. So just enjoy your time in New York, and we'll have her back by Sunday evening. You'll be very pleased with the new her."

"Eh, okay," my husband said, looking confused.

The woman grabbed my hand and pulled me to her. "Come along, beautiful," she purred. "I just can't wait to eat you all up."

"Have fun, Rachel," my husband called after me as I was pulled to the elevator, my heart beating in my chest. I was going to fuck this beautiful woman. And her boyfriend, I realized with a flush. "I love you, Rach!" Jacob hollered.

"I love you too, Jacob," I stammered as the elevator door closed.

The woman was on me, kissing me passionately, the moment the elevator doors closed, her tongue pressing into my mouth. I melted against her, kissing her just as passionately as I ever kissed a person. As I ever kissed Jacob. Her hands were behind me, finding the zipper to my dress, and pulling it down. The dress fell to the floor and I stood there in my wedding lingerie, my silken panties soaked with my excitement.

This was like a fantasy come true. Sometimes, when I masturbate, I thought of being fucked by a stranger, always a man, in public. Just letting myself be wild and not the proper, quiet girl I was in my real life. For this weekend, I could live that fantasy, I realized. I could be wild and slutty, and then go back to Jacob and be his prim and proper wife.

"You are so beautiful," I whispered to the auburn-haired woman.

"You, too," the woman responded and then we were kissing again.

The woman started kissing and sucking at my neck and over her shoulder I could see Mark and the female chauffeur were kissing as well. No, they were fucking. Mark had her pressed up against the elevator wall, one of her fishnet-stockinged legs hooked around his leg as he fucked her hard. His jeans slipped down, exposing his firm ass as it clenched when he thrust into the woman. The chauffeur hugged him tightly, her angelic face appearing over his shoulder. Pleasure contorted her face and I wondered if I looked like that.

Our eyes made contact and I felt this electric thrill pass between us, a smile appeared on her lips. There was something special about the blonde woman and we were lost in each other's eyes as we were getting fucked. Her eyes were brown. No they were green. No, hazel I finally realized. The electric thrill between us was such a familiar feeling and it reminded me of Jacob, for some strange reason. The memory of the first time I laid on my husband floated up in my mind. It was back in college, in the library at Princeton, and I was reaching for a book and through the gap in the shelf I saw a pair of eyes peering back at me from the other side of the bookshelves. The eyes were so gentle and warm, I found myself falling in love with Jacob before I even saw all of his face.