Plus One 7

Plus One

I

"Congratulations! You two make a great couple!"

Those were the first words I heard from my husband's ex, but they weren't the words that took me down a rabbit hole. Marissa was a plus one for our wedding. She came with a cousin of mine. I didn't have any jealousy or resentment about her being my (now!) husband's ex, although she was a pretty woman -- dark hair, soft brown eyes, creamy brown skin. Her perfume was intriguing. I couldn't place it but wanted to ask her what it was. But that would be more conversation than I wanted to have with her.

Cory, my new husband of just over an hour, had never talked about her in length and didn't seem to react when he learned she was here. His actual words were, "Wow. Weird. Small world." But Cory could be hard to read sometimes.

No, the words from Marissa that took me on this journey started with these, "I'm glad he found somebody who could match his needs."

I smiled and nodded, but there was something in the way she looked into her Champagne flute before downing it that made me wonder if there was more behind her words. I mean, I didn't think of Cory as a needy person and the needs he had were typical of a man, in my experience. We were barely outside 30 years old. I felt like we'd had our wild time and were ready to settle down and start the journey my girlfriends had been on while Cory and I had focused on our careers.

There were others at the reception I needed to greet. I didn't have time for conversations and I'd only spoken to Marissa out of an impulse -- a kind of primal need to let the ex see my happiness. Petty, but, like I say, M

just

an impulse. I was going to smile down at her, be pretty and happy, and move on. But the look she gave before downing her champagne. The little toast at the end. I bit the hook.

"His needs?"

She cocked her head in a little double-take.

"Oh, you know, Erin." She leaned in. "The whole bedroom thing." She waved her glass in a little circle. She glanced around the room. Just then, her eyebrows lifted as she saw my cousin walking up. Before he arrived and put his arm around her, she whispered to me, "Lucky you," smiled, then faded back to sip her Champagne, while my cousin hugged me and gave his congrats.

The whole bedroom thing

. Like, what did that mean? Sex? He had no weakness in the bedroom, if that's what she meant. We had great sex. He was an attentive lover who never failed to get me off. I'd had my share of one-pump chumps and men afraid to go down on me. Selfish guys, cocky guys who hadn't earned their confidence. And I'd had meek men who wanted me to coddle and mother them. Cory was none of that. He wasn't kinky, and that's

fine

. I'd done my share of scenes with multiple partners of all sexes and felt like I'd gotten that out of my system. It was

fun

, sure, but what I had in Cory was a stable, caring partner who put my pleasure first in the best ways possible.

It was my wedding reception, but I carried those words around in the back of my mind for the rest of the evening.

The whole bedroom thing

. I wanted to find her and interrogate further, but the reception pulled me in too many directions. I chalked it up to her wanting to get under my skin. She was there first. So, I tried to let it go. I needed to be present to all my guests. I had toasts, bouquets, garters, and chats. And when I finally reconnected with Cory and we had our first dance, and I looked into his loving eyes, I finally let the words dissolve in my happiness.

He said, "Babe, you are stunning tonight." He pulled me in his strong arms, kissed me and whispered, "My dream girl." This was my man.

The nice thing about our wedding is that the night didn't have to end. Ours was a destination wedding in Hawaii. Our guests had a full week that started a couple of days ago with dinner parties and preparations. We had several more days in the hotel before we had to go back to our more humble (and colder) homes. We got to have our wedding and honeymoon all-in-one and our guests got to play in paradise. For now, we had balmy evening breezes, sunny walks on the beach, and far more alcohol than we were used to. I would be lucky to fit into my wedding dress by the end of the week, despite restraining myself these past couple of days to stay in it.

The wine was going to my head by the end of the night. I was so ready to be fucked. We'd made the stupid decision to take a little break from sex before the wedding, as if either of needed the time off to be ready to go. But we told ourselves waiting would make the wedding night more intense. I don't know if he was going crazy, but I was used to fucking a lot. And the more the party and people pulled us apart, the hornier I got. We'd done the ceremony, we'd had the party, now we needed to do the deed. I was giving bedroom eyes to Cory every chance I got. Biting the lip, which he loved. Whispering in his ear. Brushing my hand down his back, sliding it down his strong glutes.

He was restrained and maybe a little bashful in front of everyone, but he let his hands roam too, and when he finally grabbed my ass once during a slow dance, the room cheered and urged us on. After that broke the ice, he was more handsy, which only made my condition worse. Finally, as the crowd surrounded us and we became a little less the center of attention, the words in my head came tumbling out of my mouth.

"Maybe we should slip off to our room for a little quickie."

He immediately walked away without a word. I stood looking at the empty space, my face burning with rejection.

I turned to catch him already near the exit. He nodded his head toward the door and I laughed. My man didn't need to be told twice. I put up one finger as he exited and then I found my way to another exit so as not to arouse suspicion.

I met him in our room, and he was already nude. He kissed me at the door, unafraid of being caught. He kissed me hungrily, and I melted into it. Me in my full wedding dress and he fully erect and attempting to pull up my train that was dragging on the doorjamb.

"Easy boy," I said, pushing him slightly. He stopped instantly. He looked at me expectantly. I said, "Let me get inside the room before you get inside me."

He smirked and licked his bottom lip.

Fuck me

, I thought.

Please

.

I spun around and let him begin work on my buttons as I tugged the rest of my train into the room, letting the door close and the room drop into darkness. I lifted my hair up to give him access to the hooks there, and Cory took the moment to kiss my neck. Shivers. If I was wet before, I was soaked now. I felt those flutters in my pussy.

As the dress opened down my bare back, I dropped my arms and let my blond curls bounce on my back. I let the dress slip off my shoulders and down and I brought my arms up to my naked chest and turned slowly around. I held my hands over my breasts demurely, as if he hadn't worshipped them many times. But tonight our bodies belonged to each other in a new way. I knew the effect I would have on Cory. I wanted to be a blond Venus stepping out of the shell of my dress pooling at my feet. My pale silk stockings held up by garters. My vee hidden behind a tiny lace thong that barely covered my tender lips. Wearing something so scant felt like they were about to fall off -- a feeling I found tantalizing.

That's where Cory's eyes paused as he sighed. I let one hand drop to my sex and I ran a finger down the cleft beneath. "Does Mr. Johnson see something he likes?"

Cory looked up at me and laughed.

I said, "I mean... Oh, hell." I put my hand over my mouth. I'd never said those words before and Cory Johnson, with his erect

johnson

stepped into me and kissed me through my blush.

"Mr.

Johnson

loves what he sees," he said in a low growl.

He pressed me up against the door and I tugged the strap of my thong down, letting the little patch of lace drop, exposing my pussy to his hands. He reached down to feel and immediately two of his fingers slid into me as I gasped. I could smell the aroma of my own heat.

"Fuck me, please," I whispered.

We didn't need foreplay. The weeks leading into the moment were constant foreplay. I just needed his cock in me. The pageantry could wait. I grabbed his cock and pulled him toward my need. He lifted me up as I guided him there. I slid his circumcised crown back and forth against my hungry opening. I slid my thumb over it, slick already with desire, and pushed him into place. He practically carried me through the door with his lust as I felt him sink completely inside me.

"Fu-u-u-" I groaned. Then I held his shoulders for leverage as he became lost in his lust. I kissed his hair as he kissed my shoulder.

"I can't..." he panted. "I can't stop."

"Don't," I murmured.

He grunted and cried out as he lifted my legs up on tiptoe with his effort to fill me. I felt his contractions inside me as he came. I'd never heard him grunt and moan so openly. He was normally so quiet. It turned me on to see him so out of control for once. I hadn't come, but this felt special -- animalistic. As he relaxed and my heels touched the floor again, I could look up into his eyes. He searched mine. His face was red, and he seemed vulnerable. I stroked his cheek and kissed him.

I whispered to him, "You are so fucking hot when you let go."

He moaned and kissed me back.

I was afire myself, being so close to my first orgasm in weeks. But I knew he would need a little recovery.

"We'll be missed," I said.

He shook his head. "You haven't come yet."

"No, but we need to get back," I said.

He dropped to his knees. "Not like this," he said. "You'll spoil your stockings." He eased my thong the rest of the way down my legs.

Puzzled, I looked at him. He was intently staring at my pussy. It was clear he was ready to help me come, but he'd never eaten me after sex before. I felt those flutters again.

Would

he?

The look in his eyes was new. It was his intensity that encouraged me to be bolder than I normally was in intimate moments with him. And maybe now that we were married, we could open up a little more.

My voice trembling, I gave him an out, "I... wouldn't mind if people saw it dripping down my legs. They'd be jealous." I let my fingers trace the pearl forming at my opening. I slid my fingers down my thighs, encouraging the flood.

He moaned.

"I'm a fucking mess, Cory."

He licked his lips, but he seemed rapt by what I was doing. He was leaning in. I could feel his breath over my shining labia.

"Are you sure you want this?" I said.

He locked eyes with me. The pure focus on his face was something I hadn't seen before. I felt my pussy contract, squeezing more of his spunk out of me. Never breaking eye contact, he pressed his mouth against my pussy and, using the flat of his tongue, loudly sucked his cum from me.

I came.

My legs quivered, and I just

came

. Loudly. That only encouraged him. He kept sucking and licking and nipping his lips on my clit. I could barely stand after a few minutes. Finally, after I was afraid the hotel phone was going to ring with a complaint, I pushed Cory back.

His face was amazing. His eyes were glazed with lust, and his face was shining too as he licked his bottom lip. Then he blinked a moment and quickly turned away. He went to the ensuite bath and stood by the sink.

"Wait," I called.

I followed him in there as he grabbed a washcloth and started soaking it under the faucet.

"Are you OK?" I said as I leaned against him. "That was... amazing."

He looked at me. Deep concern in his eyes.

"You're not... disgusted?"

"No, babe. No. You were fucking hot."

I turned his face to mine and, before he could wipe the mess off, I kissed his messy cheek. I could taste his honey and mine. Fuck, his cum was sweet. I missed it. I licked his face clean. As I did, I said, "I've never come so fast, baby."

Relief relaxed his face, and he returned my kisses.

Finally, we pressed our foreheads together and turned to the mirror to look at ourselves.

"Mr. Johnson is so sexy," I said.

"Mrs. Johnson is a goddess," he said.

We took a beat and then I took the cloth from his hand and dabbed his face. "We'd better freshen up or people will have a lot more to talk about than our absence."

He smiled and let me clean his skin. I shook my head as I took in this new Cory who had never done such a thing before. A catch of breath and flutter of desire renewed in me as he stood stock still, letting me clean him up. There was something about his stillness that I found erotic. He was not trying to do anything. He was just receiving this tenderness, completely exposed to me. I saw him erect again and sighed.

"No time for that," I said as I turned to the mirror. "I'll need to touch up and change."

"Yes, ma'am," he said as he walked back to the room.

Then the words Marissa said flashed back to me, "The whole bedroom thing." And a little flare of jealousy roiled in me. What had Marissa done with my man? And why hadn't he told me about it?

II

Cory was back at the reception before I was. Despite his best efforts, his come was still soaking my thong. I had pulled out another pair, but I changed my mind. I first thought about wearing nothing, but decided I wanted to feel him soaking through. That sense of being naughty amid the celebrations tantalized me. Fortunately, I had my reception dress at hand anyway, and I used that excuse for my absence.

It was thrilling to have people compliment me on how good I looked, knowing that I'd just been fucked and eaten by my new husband and was still wearing the evidence. They didn't know that the rose in my cheeks was because of his magic tongue. Could they sense the slight metallic aroma in the air that would give our game away? Maybe. One of my girlfriends told me I was "glowing" and winked at me.

As the party continued, I found myself distracted. I watched for Marissa. I chided myself for being fixated. The past is the past, right? My body count was not low when I met Cory. I knew his number was smaller, but I chalked that up to things being easier for a woman who was not ashamed of sex. Plus, he never gave me any hint of jealousy. Quite the opposite, really. He didn't mind hearing about my experiences and I felt like full disclosure, especially in the run-up to the wedding, was important.

Which is why I felt piqued. I mean, maybe I should have been more curious. I didn't ask for as many details from him and now I realized he had been deflecting. Marissa clearly found something unique in Cory's sexual appetites and thought there was only one way that he would settle down with me. She must think I fulfilled them. And honestly, I felt a little robbed of the chance. I wanted to be his everything and, if he was hiding some desire, I wanted to give him that.

One time, as I was dancing with Cory, I accidentally caught Marissa's eye as I was searching for her. She smiled and raised her eyebrows at Cory. She mouthed the words again, "Lucky you."

I had to find out. But I was damned if I was going to ask her.

I leaned into Cory's neck, and I murmured. "Marissa said something interesting." I felt his body tense at the mention of her name. I said in my sexiest tone, "You've been holding out on me."

He stopped dancing. He stepped back. I couldn't tell if it was panic or shame. He looked down rather than at me.

"I... I'm sorry," he said. "I... uh." He looked at me and I thought his eyes were tearing up. Before I could say anything, he turned and headed off the dance floor. He walked past a couple of guys wanting to pat him on the back and went straight to the bar.

I looked again at where Marissa was. She saw the whole thing. She cocked her head and shook it slightly. There was a trace of a smile there.

A moment of panic swelled up in me. What had I done? This was our magic night and I let my curiosity turn to jealousy, and I had just thrown that in Cory's face with no warning.

Still, it was too soon to seek him out and I couldn't go to her, even though I felt certain she knew

I knew

she held a secret over me. I gave Cory space and watched as he worked through his emotions. It was easy because at a wedding everyone is clamoring for your attention. My bridesmaids were around me most of the time, although as the night went on, they began lining up their own prospects (most of them were single and some were merely free.) Still, I tracked Cory as the party carried him along and out of his shock.

Finally, I saw him step out on the lanai for a breather. I followed him there, sat down next to him on the chaise, as we both stared at the dark ocean, and held my hand out to him. He took it and I felt a moment of healing.

I said, "You don't have to tell me anything."

He squeezed my hand.

"What... what did she tell you?"

"Nothing, Cory. She just hinted."

He nodded and said, "Yeah, sounds like her. She has a way of getting under your skin."

Now I nodded. I could see the attraction. "I'm sorry I took her bait."

We let the waves of the ocean fill the silence between us and finally he said, "I want to tell you. But I'm afraid you'll see me differently."

"I know you, Cory." I leaned my head against his shoulder and intertwined my hand with his. "Nothing you can tell me will make me forget that. You have nothing to be ashamed of with me."

We stayed connected for the rest of the reception. Even though many people were pulling us apart to give us advice or encouragement, we kept close. And when we weren't able to touch, we kept an eye on each other, making sure that the other saw our reassurances.

When our older relatives slipped off to bed and left the party for younger folks, we drank and danced a little more freely. Many had changed into cooler clothes to enjoy the ocean breeze coming in from the beach. Occasionally, Cory and I would retreat to the patio or the even the beach for a little breather.

I had gone out on the lanai to wait for Cory when I realized Marissa was there already. She was so petite that I couldn't see her on the chaise until I was on top of her. She sipped a cocktail with her eyes closed, just listening to the waves. She now had on a yellow bodycon dress that barely covered her top and bottom. The moonlight glinted off her creamy skin, and I forgot for a moment that I hated her.

That wasn't true. I hated her secret hanging between Cory and me. I hated that there was some need there that Cory found so powerful he seemed content to avoid forever if it hadn't been hinted at tonight.

Did I have a secret like that? Perhaps. Maybe I'd left out a detail or two in my retelling. Maybe I didn't want my future husband to think his wife was once capable of being so slutty. No man wants to hear about another's hard abs or other harder, thicker things.

Marissa opened her eyes and caught me staring. She smiled and gestured to the lounge next to hers. She said, "I'm sorry if I stirred things up. I really didn't mean to."

"It's OK." I said, surprised by her apology. But I added, "Cory has no secrets from me."

She cocked her head, but let her protest drop. My bravado did not fool her. More fuel for my internal fire.

She said, "It's his story to tell, and I broke a trust. It was an honest mistake. But I apologize."

"Thank you." I wanted to say more, but felt disarmed in the moment.

"I think I've been a little jealous," she said. "Cory and my time together was special and I miss it.

Occasionally

. Don't worry, I'm not looking to rekindle. But we broke up because I wasn't ready to commit to him in the way he needed. And today I was just..." She turned to me kindly. "I was just glad to think someone did."

"I want to."

"It's OK. Clearly, he's changed, or he's worked it out. Maybe it was just a unique time for him. College, right?" She touched my arm, let it linger. "You are gorgeous. Poised and sexy and... a great dancer. The full package. What

more

could he want?"