The Last To Know - What I did while we were Engaged

by Bridy McAvoy

  As I reversed out of the garage I quickly sent a text.

  Late getting away, be there soon, on my way. ILU xxx S

  Before I’d finished making sure the garage door had locked itself, I was still on the driveway when I got a text back.

  No worries. Don’t rush. SYS LUB xxx S

  SYS LUB made absolutely no sense to me and I was trying to work it out as I drove into town, and then through to the college quarter where you still had a flat share. It finally dropped into place in my mind as I pulled into your road, which was why I was grinning like a loon when I pulled up next to the waving figure that was you. I’d yet to see the inside of your flat, but there again, you had never seen my house, either.

  “Hi, Sam.”

  “Hi, honey.” I pulled away from the kiss. “Don’t smudge my makeup. I’ve spent hours because you said ‘look nice for tonight’.”

  “You do, you look gorgeous.”

  “You do know I had no idea what SYS LUB meant, don’t you?”

  “You mean, see you soon, love you back?”

  “Worked that out as I turned into your street. Anyway, we have a more pressing matter.”

  “Which is?”

  “You have to tell me where we’re going.”

  “Why? I want it to be a surprise.”

  “Then how am I going to drive us there, you idiot?”

  I could see you were grinning at me, deliberately winding me up. I stuck my tongue out at you and you just laughed.

  “I love the dress.” Your voice had dropped, your words coming out husky, and I shivered.

  “Thank you.”

  “New?”

  “Yeah. New and expensive. So if we’re going to a burger bar you’re in fucking trouble, buster.”

  “Nah, it’s The Burnt Tree, and we have reservations, so we’d best get a move on.”

  I smiled and pulled away. I don’t think you realized I’d spotted you patting your suit jacket pocket as if you were checking for something. I tried not to shiver and not to second guess you. I was starting to think that Klara had been right in the shop, when she confirmed my suspicions—I would need their services for a white dress before too long. Was it wishful thinking? Keeping a lid on my excitement was really difficult.

  The Burnt Tree has valet parking, but even so you came around to my side of the car to help me out, only the valet, doing his job, beat you to it. I watched as both of you did a classic double-take as I stepped out of the car. The dress didn’t flash too much. After all, this was a classy establishment, but I knew both of you got a glimpse of thigh above the stockings. Your face was a picture. If I’d been a steak I’d have been eaten on the spot. You were so hungry for me in that moment that my heart wanted to burst.

  “Fabulous dress.”

  That’s a compliment that can be a two-edged sword—it could mean you liked it, or it could mean you thought it was too risqué to be seen in public. In fact, your wide grin and the way you kept checking out how I looked as I moved, told me it was the genuine compliment.

  You seemed nervous as the maitre’d led us to our table and seated me. He was a perfect gentleman. His eyes didn’t stray but I saw the way he looked at you and you nodded. It was obvious to this particular girl that you were up to something. Your eyes were sparkling and I could see you were starting to breathe heavily but you hadn’t taken your seat. The maitre’d stepped back and, looking around, I saw a waiter standing behind him with a wine bucket and what looked like the top of a champagne bottle sticking out of the top of it.

  The nearby tables fell silent and I turned back around to see you still hadn’t taken your seat. You were dropping to one knee beside the table, your hand in the pocket I’d seen you checking. You weren’t going to do this in private, you were going to do it in public, right here, right now!

  “Samantha, I don’t know how to say this—I’m a business graduate, not a poet. I’m not going to use anyone else’s words, because this has to come from my heart to yours. Will you do me the greatest honor you can do any man, and accept this ring as a token of my undying love? Samantha, I pledge you my life, my everything, will you…will you marry me?”

  A hush fell over the entire restaurant as everyone watched. Your voice had been clear and loud, only a slight catch toward the end. I didn’t care if you hadn’t written a poem, I didn’t care if you’d borrowed someone else’s words. I just knew what it had cost my dear, shy man, who hated a public scene in his private life, to do that. My heart was in my mouth, and I was speechless for a second. Slowly, I looked down at my hands, then stretched out my left hand toward you. I could see the ring glittering in the black velvet box you held open. I knew I wanted that ring on my finger, and that I’d never take it off.

  Finally I found my voice. “Yes! Yes! Yes, a thousand yeses! Simon…”

  You pushed the ring onto my finger as the whole place burst into spontaneous applause. You wanted to rise to your feet but I stopped you, flying from my chair and wrapping my arms around you. I didn’t care about my makeup anymore—if a girl can’t smudge her lipstick by kissing the man who’s just asked her to marry, when can she?

  After a moment you gently disengaged my arms and lifted me back up. Rising to your feet, you settled me back into my seat before taking your own. The maître’d took the champagne from the waiter and the pop of the cork made me jump. Then we were sipping champagne and staring into each other’s eyes as the restaurant slowly returned to normal around us.

  Simon, I loved you so much in that moment. Not that I hadn’t before then, but everything came together that evening. That wasn’t the only surprise you had for me that night. I’d been waiting for the bad news—that you had a job, and it was in another state, maybe two thousand miles away—now you were leaving college. Either tearing you away from me, or tearing me away from my home, my last remaining link to my parents. You, though, had been talking to Bruce for some time, keeping me in the dark. You told me you had a job, and it was here in town. The job you wanted, and at a salary that was eye-watering. You’d start in three weeks, and you’d already quit the shop, so as of that moment, you were mine any time I wanted you.

  That night was an incredible rush, and I couldn’t process it all. I guess the tears seemed to be just me being overwrought as I left for the powder room. One of the waitresses came with me, and helped calm me down, although I didn’t tell her the real reason for my sobs. I had to make some quick decisions and decide when and how I was going to breach those final barriers. Part of me wanted to drag you home with me, and make you stay the night, but I knew that might be too quick, too big a turn around.

  I had to take it slower. As a result we went parking after the meal and I let you explore just how easy the dress allowed access to my body. You enjoyed yourself, and I enjoyed the way your hands roamed all over my breasts, and up my legs under the skirt. I reached inside your pants, and this time when I jacked you I kept your pants between you and my five hundred dollar dress. I was still calculating when I asked you to come to mine for lunch on Sunday and you, of course, accepted, but insisted you’d either get a taxi or get a lift, rather than me fetch you.

  That suited me. It meant I could spend time proving to you I could actually cook, as well as get the house tidied, and give you the grand tour. We said our goodnights and I dropped you off, knowing I was making you cross the sidewalk with a huge wet stain on the front of your pants. I giggled as I drove off, but didn’t care. I was laughing and singing all the way home. A good job I didn’t get pulled over by a cop—he’d have assumed a DUI for sure.

  * * * *

  I dressed down for Sunday—shorts and a T-shirt—although I again omitted the bra. I knew you’d notice the second you walked in. One o’clock came and went and I worried a little then heard my text beeper go off.

  Sam I’m not sure I’m in the right place. These houses are massive.

  I looked out the window next to the front door and saw you standing at the end of the drive looking puzzled. I’d fo
rgotten I’d never described my house, although you knew I lived alone after my parents’ death. As well as that, my car was in the garage so there was nothing for you to recognize. Opening the door, I waved and you smiled at me but, as you walked up the drive, I could see you looking around, gauging just how big the house was.

  We hugged and kissed and I eventually pushed the door to with my foot. I didn’t want any neighbors seeing anything. I was actually quite nervous. I’d never brought a boyfriend home, and here I was letting my brand spanking new fiancé into the house.

  “Wow! This is some place.”

  I just smiled and let you look around. “Lunch is in ten minutes. I know you like pasta, but I hope you like your sauce with extra garlic.”

  “Extra garlic?”

  “Confession time, I was a little too heavy-handed with the garlic.”

  “Ah. No problems. I love my sauce spicy.”

  I managed a laugh, understanding the meaning, and led you through to the kitchen.

  “As there’s only the two of us, I thought we’d use the breakfast nook. The dining room is a bit formal and rather large for two people.”

  “Not a problem. It’s your house, and it’s a nice house.” You took a deep breath. “I don’t know how much you have done, and how much your dad did, but I can tell both you and your parents have good taste.” You winced. “Sorry, that could have come out better.”

  I shook my head, left the stove for a second, and wrapped my arms around you, squashing my breasts into your chest just to make sure you knew I was braless. “No, I know what you meant, and thank you. I know my mother would have loved you, almost as much as I do.”

  We smiled at each other and I returned to preparing lunch. It wasn’t anything special, but I was trying to impress with my cooking skills, even if it was only a pasta dish followed by a key lime pie. I bought the key lime pie as my dessert making skills weren’t up to much. There aren’t many desserts you can make for one person. It’s a good job I could satisfy any sugar cravings from the shops.

  You enjoyed the meal and the compliments were good, if a trifle overdone. You insisted on helping me clean up, and then I gave you a tour of the ground floor and the garden. We wandered around for a good half hour, hand in hand, just looking at everything, with you poking into every cubbyhole inside and every cranny outside.

  Then I led you back to the den and persuaded you to sit on the couch. Before you could say anything, I dropped into your lap and kissed you. You kissed back, of course, and we made out for a while. I did, however, stop you in your attempts to take my top off. We needed to talk…first.

  “Honey, I want to talk to you.”

  “Okay.”

  “Last night…”

  You grinned—last night had been magical for both of us.

  “Last night you said you start work in three weeks and you get a car with your job.”

  “That’s right. Not as nice a car as yours, but it’ll do for starters.”

  “What about your flat?”

  “Got to give that up—new batch of students starting in September.”

  “So where are you going to live?”

  “Haven’t found anywhere yet, to be honest. Been looking around, but I’ve got a few weeks yet. I need to be out by the third week in September.”

  I did a quick count up—that made it about five weeks. “So, honey…” I ran my finger down your breast bone. “Why do you think it’s a good idea to rent another flat and pay out that money when I’m living here, all on my own, with all this space…?” I ran my finger back down your sternum again, but this time my hand sank lower, resting on your belt buckle.

  You frowned at me, not quite sure what you were hearing. I let you process it. I’d made the invitation and I just stared at you waiting for you to answer.

  “You mean…? Are you suggesting…? No, you can’t be…”

  I grabbed a cushion and hit you over the head with it. “You are so dense at times. Yes, I am. I’m suggesting you move in with me.”

  “But…”

  “Give me one good reason why not.”

  “Because…because we haven’t…”

  “We haven’t made love yet?”

  You nodded.

  “Honey…” I swallowed hard, letting you see my reaction. “I know what I said, and at the time I meant it. But haven’t my actions in the last few weeks taught you that I’m wavering on that?”

  “I’m not…”

  “Not today you’re not, but sometime soon… Okay? I wanted to hold myself back for the perfect man, wait ’til I’d found him. Well, honey, it might be news to you, but it isn’t news to me—I found him.”

  Before you could respond, I leaned in and kissed you, hard, then sat up straight. My hands dipped to my waist as I crossed my arms, then grabbed the hem of the T-shirt. Two seconds later it was off over my head and I threw it on the floor, pressing myself against you. Your hands came up to cup my breasts and as you squeezed my nipples I wanted to let myself cum. My hands went down to your belt and you stiffened then relaxed as I freed your cock then slid off your lap.

  “Sam…”

  “Shush. I want to try something.”

  I moved my head closer to your hard cock, laying my cheek on your thigh just looking at it sitting there in my hand.

  “Sam, this isn’t needed.”

  I sighed, and looked up at you. “There are two hundred million men in this country, and you are quite possibly the only one who’d argue against being given a blow job. So just be quiet. Okay. I don’t know if I can do this, but I want to try. Understand me, Si, I want to try.”

  “I’m not objecting. I just want to make sure you’re okay about this.”

  “It’s my idea, all right?”

  You nodded and then relaxed as I lowered my head to rest on your thigh next to the object of my worship. I knew—we’d talked about it on occasions—that you had experience with other girls. You’d had blowjobs and full sex before, but because I said I wanted to wait, you’d waited. Now I needed to reward you for waiting, without getting you suspicious. It wasn’t going to be easy.

  I moved closer, inhaling that male smell that so turned me on. It took every fiber of my being to stop myself taking you straight down. The word tentative resounded around my head as my brain told my body to wait.

  I stuck my tongue out and licked your cock, just behind the head. I could see the way the actual head shone as you started to leak pre-cum but I needed to take my time getting there. I licked along, and around, and down your shaft for a couple of minutes, then started to move toward the tip. As soon as my tongue encountered the pre-cum I recoiled, gasping.

  “Sam…”

  “I’m okay.” I snapped at you and then, acting as if I was annoyed with myself, returned to kissing the head, this time licking off all the pre-cum which was, of course, instantly replenished.

  “You don’t have to do this…”

  I stopped what I was doing and looked up into your face. “Shut up! I’m doing this because I want to do this. Okay? I am not going to ruin my honeymoon night because I can’t take my husband into my mouth, if I can’t take him into my throat.”

  “Sam!”

  “I’ve probably seen as much porn as you have. I know what I’m supposed to be able to do, so let me do it.”

  You reached down, hooked your hands under my armpits and just lifted. You’d never exerted your strength on me before, not ever. You lifted me as if I was some tiny weight. One moment I was on my knees between your legs, the next I was in mid-air, and the next cuddled on your lap with your arms around my naked back.

  “Look, if I wanted to sleep with a porn star, I’d join a film production company as their marketing expert, and part-time performer.”

  The thought of you doing that made me giggle, dissolving the pout I’d formed.

  “What I want is a woman who loves me as much as I love her. If she says wait, I wait. If she says go, I go.”

  “And when she says blow?�
��

  He chuckled and kissed me, heedless of the fact his pre-cum coated my lips. “Then she takes it slowly, and at her own pace. Not in some all-fired hurry.”

  “And if she wants to hurry?”

  “Don’t hurry it, Sam, please. Don’t force yourself.”

  “I wanted to show you something.”

  “What?”

  “That I can be your lady on your arm when we’re out, a cook in the kitchen, a maid in the house…and your whore in the bedroom.”

  “You know the problem with that library of yours?”

  “What?” For a moment I wondered if somehow, after all, he knew about what my boss did to me.

  “There are too many trashy romance novels.”

  “They’re popular.”

  “Maybe, but I still say you don’t need to do this.”

  Taking his face in my hands, I twisted on his lap, pressing my naked thigh against his still hard cock.

  “Maybe for me I do. If you are going to move in here with me, I am not having you living just down the hall in separate bedrooms between now and the wedding day.”

  “Don’t force yourself.”

  “I’m not, okay? I want to do this.”

  Your arms relaxed and I slid back down to the floor, once more taking your cock in my hand. I spent a couple of minutes kissing it and getting it wet again by the simple expedient of licking it like a lollipop. I don’t think you realized I was squeezing on the base of your cock, retarding your arousal to make it last long enough.

  After what felt like an age to me, I lifted up and slowly put my lips over the first inch and a half. How I stopped myself from just dropping down I don’t know. I felt your entire body tense and then relax, and heard you groan. You were loving it.

  “Use your tongue, Sam.”

  “Hmm…”

  I did as you suggested, although I was already doing it. I made a couple of noises in my throat as if I was having a problem and you tensed again, but then let me continue. For the next few minutes I kept up the same teasing performance—keeping you in the front of my mouth, gagging occasionally if I went a little deep, then pulling off and licking it. I looked up at you—you had your head back and your eyes closed. I savagely pinched my nipple to make myself gasp around your cock and brought tears to my eyes, which was the real reason I’d done it. My pussy was flooding with juices—I was enjoying it so much.