Page 42 of Resistance Training

brAD

“ T ell me more, tell me more, like, does he have six abs? Uh-huh! Doo-doo, uh-huh! Mm-hmm, bop-bop, yeah! ”

“ She ran by me, to the wrong dooooor! ” I sing to the tune of “Summer Nights,” and I do do a mean Travolta impression.

Hah!

Doo-doo.

I’ve only had one vodka tonic and half a glass of champagne, but I feel amazing and hilarious and horny as a motherfucker.

My girlfriend is gorgeous and barefoot and waving her key card in the air as she approaches the door to a hotel room that does not currently house our belongings.

This is the first time I’ve had the pleasure of her company while she’s tipsy on champagne, and I have no complaints, other than the fact that she is still wearing clothes.

“Wrong door, Sunshine Sally.”

“What?! No, it’s not.” She holds the key card up to the scanner, and it doesn’t unlock the door, because as I told her, it is the wrong door. “Hang on, hang on.”

“Oh, you wanna try again? Okay, sweetie.” I’m holding her shoes and her handbag, and I have exactly no patience left because I haven’t been alone with this woman all day, but I would fucking love to stand here and watch her try to open the wrong door with that key card.

She flips the key card around. Not facing the other way, she turns it upside down, presses it against the scanner again, and then looks back at me, frowning, because of course it’s my fault. “Did you switch key cards on me?”

“No, I came back up here and switched the doors during the reception. That’s how much I wanted to stand here in the hallway tonight”—I lower my voice—“instead of fucking you blind in our actual hotel room!”

She lowers her chin the tiniest bit, but my girl is not willing to admit defeat, even at the risk of waiting longer to get fucked blind. Like a stubborn toddler, she flips that key card around, maintains eye contact with me while attempting to hold it up against the scanner.

“You’re aiming about two inches too low,” I tell her.

“That’s what she said,” she quips, literally without batting an eyelash.

Before she can raise the card to the wrong scanner, I scoop her up into my arms and carry her to the end of the hall. “You are a pain in the ass, and I am so fucking in love with you, it’s stupid.”

“Ha! Yeah, you are!” She starts making out with my ear lobe. It feels really, really good, but I put her down on the floor, take her hand with the key card in it, and hold it up to the scanner on the door.

The handle clicks, and I kick the door open, guiding her inside, dropping her shoes and handbag to the floor, walking her back up against the opposite wall.

Her bridesmaid dress is shiny and smooth and the fabric hugs her curves and the color is apparently called quartz, but it is the exact color of her labia and that has made things very difficult for me today.

“I don’t know who needs to hear this, but you look stunning tonight,” I tell her.

“I know.”

Finally my mouth crashes against hers, starving for connection.

Her tongue tastes like chocolate and strawberries and champagne and sass.

She’s humming the tune to “Summer Nights,” and my cock is wide awake now, remembering how it feels when she hums as it’s touching the back of her throat.

I groan at the thought. “Turn around so I can unzip you.”

She catches my lower lip between her teeth, tugs on it the tiniest bit, and then turns around like a good girl. Only she’s doing little dance choreography moves like hip bumps and arm scoops, and I can’t grab the little zipper pull to unzip her.

“Stay still so I can get you naked,” I say in my most commanding voice.

It works. She goes still. I unzip her, letting the dress cascade to the floor, around her ankles. She isn’t wearing a bra, only a pair of black lace panties that accentuate the curves of her ass in a way that makes me forget words.

I grunt and start to remove my suit jacket.

She turns to face me and says, “Keep your suit on! I want you to fuck me in a suit.”

I nod, staring at her amazing tits while unbuttoning my pants.

“Wait, no, I want you naked!”

Nodding, I start to pull off my jacket again.

“Wait, no, suit on!”

“All right, that’s it.” I scoop her up into my arms again and carry her to the very comfortable bed, dropping her onto the mattress and watching her astonishing boobs bounce so rhythmically I am awestruck.

For a moment. And then I grab the silk scarves I placed on the bedside table before I left for the ceremony.

Because I knew my girl would be frisky when we got back tonight.

She rolls her eyes. “Just don’t rip these panties. I like them.”

“Oh, I like them too—trust me.”

The wood headboard is not helpful to me, but there are light fixtures with brass arms attached to the wall on either side of the bed and they will do nicely as long as Sparky doesn’t come too violently and rip them from their base. I’ll have to go easy on her, I’m afraid.

She is still, even lying on her back, doing fifties dance moves and humming. “I can’t believe my sister’s married—can you?”

“Sit up,” I say.

She does. I let the end of one of the silk scarves caress the skin of her breasts, her face.

She sighs, closing her eyes as her head falls back.

She holds her wrists together behind her back for me; I don’t have to ask.

I quickly, carefully, loosely tie the scarf in a figure eight around her wrists.

“I always thought she seemed like the kind of girl who’d like being married. ”

“Oh yeah?” she says, her brows knitting together. “Do I seem like that kind of girl?”

“You didn’t used to,” I say, honestly. “I put a pair of scissors in the drawer, just in case.”

She nods. “And now?”

I take a seat on the edge of the bed beside her, kiss her bare shoulder. “Do you feel safe and cherished, baby?” I ask her this every time I restrain her now.

“Yes.”

“Good. I always want to make you feel that way. And yes, you do seem like a girl who’d like to be married. To me.”

“Good.”

This hotel is filled with Vivian’s relatives, and I don’t need them hearing her scream my name while I rail her.

I hold up the other scarf, silently asking her if she’s okay with me covering her mouth with it.

She nods. I tie it loosely behind her head, covering her closed mouth.

She won’t be very quiet without a gag, but she’ll be quieter.

She lies back, wriggling around until she’s comfortable.

I stroke up her outer thighs with my fingertips and pull down those black lace panties, and then I nearly choke on my own tongue. I can see from her eyes that she’s smiling.

“Fucking hell.”

The little minx. She shaved. All of it. Everything.

“Well, well. What have we here?”

Her muffled giggle is music to my ears and her gorgeous naked body is a feast for my eyes and I am so in love it actually makes my skin hurt all over.

I’m not going to last a full minute.

Standing up, I remove my jacket, my tie, my shirt, my pants.

She watches me the entire time, and I am staring at her beautiful, glistening pussy.

She’s trying to keep her legs relaxed so I can see what she knows I want to see, but I can tell she’s dying from all the pressure between those legs.

She wants to squeeze those thighs together.

I drop my boxer briefs to the floor and climb onto the bed, crawl between her legs, kiss up the inside of her thigh, and lick the sweet center of her.

Long and tender and slow, gently teasing her opening with my fingertip.

I have spent a lot of time down here and gotten to know her so well.

I know how she’ll react to firm tongue strokes and which parts of her like gentle nibbles.

I know that when I circle her clit and then flick at it with the tip of my tongue I have to be careful because her hips will shoot up.

I know that when I grab her ass and fuck her with my tongue, she will writhe around like a maniac and swear like a Marine, but fuck me, neither of us has ever known how fucking good this would feel with absolutely no friction.

Unbelievable.

She is silky all over and I will make her come first, but fucking hell, I need to get up in there.

She’s doing a not-very-silent scream into the scarf, bucking her hips, and I keep that steady, punishing rhythm until she goes stiff and then totally still, breathing so heavily, I sit up to make sure her nose is uncovered.

She’s good, all good.

And I am so good to go.

“You ready for me, baby?”

She nods, but her neck is like taffy.

I kiss her over the scarf. “You taste so good, and I’m dying to be inside you.”

She nods again, murmuring.

I get to fuck her without a condom, because we are really all good, have been for a month, and sweet mother of God, the warm, wet, tight, delicious slide in…it almost kills me.

She makes a high-pitched whiny sound, quivering, and then she bends her legs and rests them on my shoulders.

Either side of my head. My fucking dream girl.

She’s even tighter around me, and so, so silky smooth.

I wrap my arm around her thighs, making things tighter still.

Rocking into her, I groan, dig my fingernails into the flesh of her thigh, her ass. “God, I love you.”

She whimpers.

“I love you so fucking much, baby. So good. I am so fucking in love with your pussy. This pussy is mine.”

She makes a muffled, affirmative sound.

I’m not going to last.

She clenches and releases around me.

She wants me to come.

I watch her tits bounce as I fuck her, and this is five billion times better than anything teenage me could ever imagine.