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Beaming, I dance with Reinaldo and Anita while we scream, “Azúcar!” Eric says I am his happiness.
With Sonia, Björn, Frida, and Andrés, we let our hair down and dance to “September.” When the song is over, Dexter grabs the microphone and, a cappella, sings a Mexican bolero dedicated to Eric and me. I smile and clap.
I have some great friends in and out of the bedroom. They’re people like me who like to get turned on and play hot games behind closed doors but who, outside those rooms, are thoughtful, caring, courteous, and really fun. All of them make me grateful and happy.
The reception lasts for hours, finally ending at four o’clock in the morning. My father and sister take the kids and Flyn to sleep at Sonia’s house. They want to leave us the whole house to ourselves.
Once there, Eric picks me up in his arms to carry me over the threshold. Thrilled, I let him. Inside, he sets me down.
“Welcome home, Mrs. Zimmerman.”
Delighted, I taste my husband, and I want him.
Not saying a word, I take off his morning coat, his bow tie, his shirt, his trousers, and his underwear.
“Put on your bow tie, Iceman.”
Amused, he does as I say. My fantasy is my German naked but for his bow tie. I pull him by the arm, and when we get to the door of his office, I look at him and whisper, “I want you to tear off my thong.”
“Are you sure, darling?” my love asks, laughing.
“Positive.”
Clearly aroused, Eric starts raising fabric, and more fabric ... and more fabric. The skirt on my dress is endless. I finally stop him as I laugh.
“C’mon ... sit in your big chair.”
He does what I say and looks up at me.
Turned on, I unfasten the skirt of my beautiful wedding dress, and it falls to my feet. Wearing only the bodice and a thong, I sit down on my husband’s desk.
“Now tear it off!”
Eric rips the white thong, and when he passes his hands over my tattooed and always waxed mound, he murmurs in a gravelly voice, “Tell me what you want.”
It all started between us when he said those words to me that day in the archive room. I smile when I remember my face the first time he took me to Moroccio, and when I saw that recording in the hotel, and when I put the strawberry bubble gum in his mouth. Memories. Hot, sexy, and funny memories pass through my mind while my crazy, passionate husband touches me. And, wanting to forever seal what started that day, I kiss him, grab his hard cock with my hand, guide it toward my wet slit, and slide it in. When my love gasps, I look at those wonderful blue eyes that have always driven me crazy and crazy in love.
“Mr. Zimmerman,” I say, “tell me what you want, now and forever.”