My Big Fat Fake Honeymoon

by Lauren Landish

  I unbutton my shorts but don’t push them down just yet, so overwhelmed with desire that I have to kiss her, tender at first, holding myself over her body much the way she did to me today. Our kiss deepens with every second until she reaches up, pulling me on top of her warm body.

  The feeling of her nipples brushing against my chest is like little sparks between us, igniting the fire that threatens from the heat of our lips. I kiss down her throat, licking and tasting the salty tang from where the sea’s breeze has claimed her skin.

  “Mmm . . . Lorenzo,” Abigail whispers, her words disappearing in a gasping moan when I find a nipple and suck it into my mouth. I flick and wrap my tongue around them with teasing licks, one then the other, as my hands roam her skin, my fingertips exploring every inch.

  This isn’t before, when we were faking it for Emily against the door even as our bodies took us to the limit or when we knew we’d have to stop or put on an intimate show the way some of the other yoga couples did.

  This is real, the true Abigail and Lorenzo choosing to make love under the moonlight.

  Her ass dimples under the grip of my squeezing hands as I kiss my way lower, knowing what I really want.

  I pause just below her bellybutton, looking up at her face as she gives me a slight nod, knowing what I want. She’s surrendered to me, and that fuels me even more as I lower my lips to her.

  She’s smooth, supple, and wet, ready for my probing tongue. She’s tangy, sweet, and deliciously intoxicating as I swipe a long lick between her lips, lapping voraciously at her pussy. Whatever it is that makes up Abigail’s special juices, I can’t get enough of them and am an instant addict, hungry for more. I suck and nibble, tasting and worshipping every inch of her flesh until she’s squirming, lifting her hips, and begging me for release.

  “Lo—oh, God, Lorenzo, please.”

  I grin, trailing my tongue up to the button of her clit and flicking her with the tip of my tongue. She bucks, jolted into pleasure, and her hands fly to my hair, her inner sexual animal growling to be liberated.

  She is magnificent in her wanton abandonment of any rules or expectations, freely giving in to her basest urges and instincts. I do my best to release her, letting her cries guide my pace and her tugs on my hair lead the placement of my tongue. She grinds her clit against me, searching for completion.

  The intensity rises and builds until she’s reduced to guttural noises. I grip her thighs, holding her apart and not letting her shrink back from the enormous release that’s building within her.

  “F–fuck . . . ahh!” Abi screams, her voice rising over the lap of the waves and the nocturnal cries of the animals to pierce the night.

  She is fierce and proud, a woman claiming her release and celebrating her pleasure.

  It’s beautiful, more than the finest opera, more arousing than any other sound I’ve ever heard. In an instant, I’ve let go of her thighs to push my shorts down, and I quickly roll a condom onto my raging stiffness.

  Even before the last quiver’s left her pulsing pussy, I bury all of my cock inside her tight velvety wetness with a single deep thrust. Abigail cries out anew, her body still thrumming with the throes of her orgasm. The fluttering squeezes are almost too much for me. I’m on the edge from all the flirting and teasing we’ve done, and I almost come right there, but I hold back, looking into her wide, vulnerable eyes.

  “Mia rosa,” I whisper, swiveling my hips to feel every inch of her pussy wrapped around me. “How do you want it?”

  We have shared much, but this is something different . . . and though I can’t bear to think it, it’s perhaps a one-time memory in the making. I want it to be everything for her, a perfect blissful moment she pulls out of her mind with a smile every time she thinks of me.

  Abi takes a deep breath, biting her lip as she reveals her inner truth. “Hard . . . dirty.” She gulps, grabbing my arms. “Take me.”

  I kiss her once as I withdraw, pausing with just the tip of my cock poised at her entrance before slamming hard and deep into her body. The sand under the blanket cushions the blow just enough to transform the pain into pleasure, and she cries out, her voice swallowed by my lips.

  I pound her, long, deep strokes that stretch and fill her, her body clenching around me with each withdrawal. It’s not the wild positioning of our yoga class. Rather, it is simply us, face to face as we feel every inch of our joining.

  Maybe we can try a wilder position next time?

  The errant thought gives me hope for more, even if I know that’s not a certainty. But for now, simply staring into Abigail’s eyes as she takes pleasure from me and feeling her pinned to the sand by my cock are enough. It’s more than enough.

  We rise together, my balls tightening as I feel my climax coming. Abigail’s there too, her breasts shaking with each slap of our hips and her chest rising and falling with deep, shaky breaths.

  “Come for me. Come all over my cock.” I grunt. Abigail cries out, falling apart underneath me and pushing me over the edge. I come hard, my cock pulsing as I growl through the spasms of my release before leaning down to kiss her again.

  I stay inside her, our bodies entwined as I roll to pull Abi on top of me. Stroking her back, I feel her body relax against me.

  “Mia rosa,” I whisper. I said it before just as an off the top of my head phrase, something to use as a way to give her a ‘pet name’ in our deception.

  Now it’s real. She is my rose, tender and perfect in her small imperfections, a woman to be treasured and kept safe and protected. But I’d be a fool to think she’s helpless. Like every rose, mia rosa has her strength and her thorns.

  But right now, there are no thorns, just petals. The petals of her lips teasing mine, the petals of her pussy wrapped around my cock, the petals of her heart opening to me. Maybe not all the way, but I can feel myself being allowed in the slightest bit.

  It’s not something she does easily or without consideration, and I feel like a god at being granted this special access to her soul.

  “You okay?” I ask quietly, just audible over the lapping water.

  “I am,” she says, stroking the hair at my nape. “Just . . . wow.”

  “Wow?” I ask with a chuckle that makes my softening cock jump inside her. “You were wow.”

  Abigail sighs happily. “Maybe we’ll have to agree that we’re both wow? This feels so good.”

  I don’t know if she’s only talking of our sex or of us in the entirety. Both are so good.

  “It does,” I admit, meaning more than my cock inside her.

  She looks down at me, her hands resting on my chest where I know she can feel my heart racing.

  And like that, it’s no longer pretend, no longer fake. We might not have answers, plans, or a plotted course, but we have something. Together.

  She’s inside me, gaining a place in my heart.

  And I’m gaining a place in hers.

  Chapter 13

  Abi

  The morning sun is unwelcome as my alarm goes off, my head aching even though we barely had any champagne last night. I still feel hungover, and I guess I am.

  I’m hungover on sex. The hands-down, legs-up, best sex of my life.

  I don’t even remember when we got back to the room last night, but I remember how many times Lorenzo made me come. His mouth, his fingers, his cock . . . and his cock, and his cock. By the end, I was an utter pile of orgasmic pudding on the blanket by the little cove.

  And just when I thought I couldn’t take any more, he fed me nibbles of fruit and cheese to keep my strength up for the walk back to the resort.

  “Holy fuck!” I scream as a scarecrow appears in my doorway.

  Sitting up, I’m ready to run when I realize it’s Janey, who lets out her own yelp of surprise and covers her eyes. “Dammit, woman, cover your vagina before it swallows me up too!”

  “You scared the shit out of me!” I accuse. But I quickly realize that while she wants me to cover up, Janey didn’t say a word about Lorenzo
, who is still passed out next to me, apparently oblivious to our yelling.

  Did I mention that he’s naked?

  With the perfectly sculpted globes of his ass on full display for Janey’s eyes. I growl jealously and throw the blanket over him to keep that delicious sight to myself.

  She shrugs without apology but then gestures to my chest.

  Shit. Tossing the blanket over Lorenzo’s ass hid my vagina, but the girls are still out on a naked walkabout.

  “You should get that mole checked out. I don’t like the look of it,” she advises with a smirk. There’s no mole. Or I don’t think there is. Maybe I’ll have to double-check later . . . or have Lorenzo do an up close and personal check of every inch of my skin.

  Yep, adding that to my to-do list for sure.

  “Yeah? Well, you look like frat party rats took up nesting in your hair. Why?” I ask, changing the subject from my nudity. “What did you do yesterday that left you looking so . . .” I search for something semi-kind but give up. “Rode hard and put up wet?”

  Janey balks in offense, her mouth dropping open and her eyes going fiery. But she can’t hold it and her expression morphs into something naughty. I’ve got a secret, it says.

  “Oh, my God, who?” I demand as I sit up straight to get closer to whatever juicy story she’s about to unleash.

  Casual as can be, she tells me, “Since you were gonna be gone all day and we’re caught up for the wedding—thank God for a day off—I decided to go down to the beach and work on my tan. I found a little spot where it was private, so I decided to tempt fate a bit and skip the tan lines by going topless.”

  “Janey!” Too loud, I slap my hands over my mouth so I don’t disturb Lorenzo, who’s now snoring softly.

  I’m no prude and have been to European beaches where the swimsuit tops are teeny-tiny strings, if they have them on at all. But there, it’s like the human body isn’t as sexualized or something. People just go on about their day, have conversations, and it’s like their nakedness isn’t a thing. But something about what Janey is saying makes it sound like she wasn’t just topless. She was oiling up her tits like she was prepping for a porn shoot.

  “And ultimately, bottomless too.”

  My eyes widen to dinner plates. “Damn, girl!” I don’t know if I’m proud or horrified or some weird combination of both.

  “And then I got busted.” She doesn’t sound upset about being caught naked on some corner of the island beach. In fact, she’s blushing happily like this is where the real story begins.

  “By whom? I’m guessing not the police since I didn’t have to bail you out for indecent exposure,” I tease.

  “I don’t even know his name. He was a blond, tanned, muscled Adonis who came out of the sea like it was his home. I felt his eyes on me and rolled over. But something about the way he looked at me . . . God, Abs . . . I wasn’t embarrassed. I felt like art he was appreciating.”

  She sways her hips a bit, tracing her curves as though she has a new-found enjoyment of them.

  “And then what?” I beg desperately. It sounds like Janey had almost as great a day as I did.

  “He put a fresh coat of suntan oil all over me . . . all over me,” she says again with a smirk.

  “Did you have sex with a stranger on the beach?” I hiss. Oops, guess that sounded a bit too judgmental because she glares at me.

  “No.” Relieved, I sigh. “But I would’ve. We just didn’t have a condom, and I might be crazy and do stupid shit, but not bareback.”

  “So?” There’s more to this story, I know it.

  She gives a harsh look, daring me to challenge her actions. “He rubbed me off and then I used the oil to jack him off.”

  “Wow,” I breathe.

  “And then he kissed my forehead, walked back into the water, and disappeared beneath the surface. It was like a dream.” Her eyes have gone hazy, the smile on her lips soft and blissful.

  “Are you sure it wasn’t? Maybe you just got too much sun? Had a heat-induced fantasy that seemed real? Come here and let me feel your forehead.” I hold my palm out for her to lean into.

  She returns from her mental fantasy to cut her eyes at me sharply. “He was real.”

  “Are you sure he didn’t drown out there then? I mean, people get taken under by riptides, right? Maybe this dream guy swam out and went . . . under?” I almost said went ‘down’ but I know Janey will take that a different way and I’m not sure if I want that much detail.

  Who am I kidding? Of course I do.

  “Never mind,” I tell her, despite my previous fear mongering that her McMerman might’ve been sucked to his death by the waves. “How was it?”

  “Amazing.” She sighs, leaning against the doorframe.

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  “For real?” She looks up to the ceiling as though considering. “You know, I kinda hope I don’t. That would ruin the magic of it. As it is now, I don’t know if he’s a guest, a local, or even a real mermaid man. I can just enjoy the memory for what it is, not see him in an ugly Hawaiian print shirt and jorts or find out he’s on wife number four and has a drinking problem. Though I might find my way back to that little stretch of beach to see if I can get a repeat performance.” Her smile makes me guess that she’ll do just that. “You?”

  I look to Lorenzo to check his state of awareness, but his face is relaxed, his breaths rhythmic.

  “He took me to couples’ yoga.”

  “Ooh, score one for Chef Boy!” Janey teases.

  I nod. “It was great. Not yoga like I’m used to but sexy as hell. Except Emily was there.” I roll my eyes. “But I almost—” I look down to Lorenzo to check once more. “I almost came in the middle of class and so did he.”

  Janey claps silently as she does a happy wiggle.

  I wave my hand to get her attention back. “I said almost. Lorenzo said he wanted our first time to be just us. He wanted it for himself.” I fan myself with the memory of how hot that was.

  “So he took me to the beach last night, and let’s just say that we didn’t stop with oil rubdowns.” I smile, knowing that will drive Janey crazy.

  As expected, she starts dancing again, but this time it’s more of a pelvic thrusting move alternating with some ass smacking the air. Courtney would be proud of her, probably snatching Janey up to make her the latest addition to her favorite Zumba class.

  I can’t help but laugh, but I try to keep it quiet. So instead of being loud, my whole body shakes from the laughter, which makes the bed bounce. That makes Janey even more excited.

  “Yass! Bounce that bed with your fat ass. Show me what you’re working with.” Though she stage-whispers it, Lorenzo makes a snort of noise.

  Janey and I freeze in horror, sure that we’ve been busted.

  But Lorenzo rolls over, facing away from us to curl into a fetal position with his hands up by his cheek. Freaking adorable! And yes, I know how ridiculous it is to describe this big, tatted up bad boy who rocked my world as adorable, but that’s what he is right now.

  “Quick, before he wakes up—” Janey babbles lightning fast as she ticks off questions on her fingers. “How is he? Did he dine at the Y? Did you come? How many times?”

  “Whoa!” I exclaim, holding up a hand. “Okay, in order: The best by far, yes, oh yeah, and I lost count at six. Or maybe just lost the ability to count because my brain melted to pudding?”

  “Holy hot spicy meatballs, woman! I’m so jealous!” Janey says before sighing wistfully.

  “Uh, sounds like you had a pretty stellar day too. I think we both came out winners this time. Get it, came?” I tease, even though it’s a bad joke.

  Janey grabs a pillow off the floor and throws it at me. “That was awful.”

  The pillow makes its target, my head, but it rebounds and bounces into Lorenzo’s back. We go still and quiet once more.

  Clear as can be, with no trace of sleep, Lorenzo says, “Should I pretend to ignore that too so you ladies can continue
discussing your sex lives?”

  Oh, my God! He heard all of that!

  I grab the pillow and smack him myself. “You were listening?” I accuse.

  He laughs, half turning his head to show off that smirk that’s already melting my heart. “Of course. You aren’t exactly quiet with your screeching . . . ‘oh, my God!’ . . . ‘Janey!’” He mimics my voice, throwing his deeper one high and loud and Americanized.

  “You suck!” I’m laughing, not really angry but more embarrassed at being caught talking about how he was my best ever.

  “And lick,” he adds. “I think we’ve established that, haven’t we?”

  My face blushes furiously, the embarrassment giving way to the sexy memories of last night. Oh, yeah, he licks and sucks, that’s for sure.

  Before we delve any deeper into that, my phone goes off with a FaceTime. Leaning back to the nightstand where I set it, I’m hoping to see it’s Violet who I could really spill the tea with right now. Especially about her smart-mouthed cousin.

  The universe laughs at that wish, reminding me that it’s not my luck because the call is from Meredith.

  “F-M-L,” I groan.

  My phone dings again, and Janey looks at me with trepidation. “Whatever it is, you have to answer. It could be important. Besides, if you don’t, she’ll use her dark powers to track you down and send her minions for your soul.”

  “Yeah but . . . look!” I complain, my hands gesturing to my nakedness and current situation in bed with the wedding’s chef. “Throw me a robe!” I bark, knowing she’s right. I have to answer.

  I pull the robe on and wrap a towel Janey smartly tosses my way around my messy bedhead. It’ll have to do because I don’t have time to do anything else. With a sigh, I put a fake smile on my face and hit the answer button. “Good morning, Meredith.”

  My phone shows Meredith rearing back, shocked at my unkept appearance. She’s nearly forking the sign of the devil at me, honestly. “Were you asleep, Miss Andrews?” she accuses coldly.

  “Just getting ready,” I reply, not apologizing. “What can I help you with?”