I've had a bit of a problem with the last one. I told Ronnie firmly that Stella couldn't have one. She replied that it was a bit of fun and if I didn't arrange it, she would. So now, currently, on my screen I have two stripper profiles. One is in my opinion what women would want in a stripper. A golden Adonis with oiled muscles. The other looks more like one of Snow White's Dwarves. He's muscly, but pasty white and about four foot tall with the weirdest sticky out eyeballs. I know I'm being pathetic. Jealous and pathetic. I just have a hard time imagining my fiancee gyrating on the Adonis' lap (and not that kind of hard at all). I am visualising turning up and throat punching the stripper. I even wondered about being the Stripper. Except I don't want molesting by a group of drunken women, one of whom will probably be my own mother.
So I bite the bullet and cursor down the screen for the email address.
'Dadadadadadadadada.'
'Hello Princess. Have you come to help Daddy? Watch those keys. Just let me write down this number.'
'Dadadadadadadadadda.'
'Okay. Does Athena want to watch a DVD?'
'Dadadadadadadadadada.'
I've phoned the stripper. His name's Steve. I've booked him and so now I need a venue. As advised in an online article, I'm arranging the Hen Night for two nights before the wedding. Thus hangovers on the morning of the wedding can be avoided. I've told Chris to come round to ours for a beer. I can't be bothered with any Bachelor Party shenanigans. We'll just look after Athena.
I add details to the spreadsheet. Bachelorette and Bachelor parties twenty-second of December. Next task, internet searching for a evening venue and a spa.
Jesus! The prices. It's only a bit of steam and someone rubbing some oil in. Four hundred dollars each. I need to book for Stella, Ronnie, my mother, and Nina (Mike's girlfriend). I make the arrangements. They all get a massage, facial, manicure, pedicure, shampoo and blow dry, and lunch, with champagne and chocolates. I have no idea what half this crap is, but that's what it says on the website. Why is having your hair dried with a hair dryer called a Blow Dry? At these prices I think the Employees should actually use their own breath. Some blokes wouldn't pay that for a blow job.
Now for the Restaurant and subsequent alcohol bingeing. I type in Bachelorette Restaurants into the Search Engine and the first thing it brings up is a Restaurant called Lips. Complete with drag act. That should be a great evenings entertainment for them all. A good laugh. I make four reservations. They are fine with the stripper arriving as long as its not during the show, so I time it for the beginning of the meal and let Steve know.
I get an email from Ronnie later that evening, congratulating me on the choice of venue. She also approves of the stripper. She says she's arranging the ladies a little surprise. I'm now in full panic mode, because Ronnie does not know the meaning of small. She is also bringing over a fake bridal veil and some L plates, as apparently it's the brides role to wear these all evening.
Crap. Bridal veil. Where's that spreadsheet?
I is for invitations
Apparently a plain pad with twenty invites plus plain white envelopes is 'not good enough,' according to my mother. There are only ten of us in this wedding party. Therefore I need an invite for my mother; Mike, Nina and Sam; Ronnie and any plus one. Chris told me to text him the details. So why do I have to go to such extreme measures for the invites? Because my Mother and Stella apparently want to save them as a memento of the occasion. I'm not being funny but sometimes women are strange.
I am therefore currently designing my own invitations on the internet. At first this seemed like a remarkably good idea. I've selected a tab called theme. There are hearts, ribbons, flower themes and even beach. No winter. What I do however notice is that down the left side of the page are the headings Order of Service, Table Plans, Place Cards, Menu Cards, Table Decorations, Guest Book. What the hell are all these things? I add them to the spreadsheet to look at another time.
Another site. Themes: Festival, floral, vintage. No Winter.
Midsummer. Lovebird. Arrows. Rings. Fern. Victorian. Bows. Stag. Dandelion. Peacock. Chevron.
Where the fuck is Winter?
Deep breaths. Type in Winter wedding invitations.
Finally. I find someone on Etsy who will design them. Minimum a Dozen. They have a ribbon on with a silver snowflake. I type in the words I require onto the order and pay up. That's all I seem to be doing these days. Paying money out for stupid things like pieces of paper and strippers. The invites will be ready in twenty-one days so I can forget about those for now.
I go back on the previous site to order Place cards and other expensive pieces of paper and then I realise that I don't know what we are eating yet. I must ask my Mother for further details of the venue. I'm seeing her next week as we haven't caught up in a while. It might be that The Plaza already handles all of the name settings. In fact I'm pretty sure they will do.
Spreadsheet - invites - tick.
Now for a game of Candy Crush or two.
J is for jewellery
'Stella?'
'Yeah?'
'We're going out today. Shopping.'
Stella folds her arms and looks at me, tilting her head to one side and pursing her lips. 'You? Want to go shopping?'
I blow air out of my mouth in a huff. 'No. I don't want to go shopping. We need to go shopping. Ring shopping.'
'I thought you were dealing with the wedding stuff?'
'Do you want to choose your own wedding ring or not?'
'Are we going to Tiffany's?'
'Where else would we go?'
Stella shoots out of bed as if there's a rocket attached to her ass.
Stella's face is as bright as the entrance as we walk through the doors of one of her favourite New York stores. She chatters excitedly to Athena, telling her that Fifth Avenue is the place to be. That we can go to FAO Schwarz next and then walk in Central Park. We can what? FAO Schwarz? More like LMFAO if she thinks we're going there. Our house already looks like we have our own franchise.
After two hours standing at a counter while Stella changes her mind between three different rings, we finally have a winner. I need a lesson in wedding rings as apparently these days you don't wear your engagement ring and wedding ring together, but have a wedding ring bedecked with diamonds to wear on its own. The winner is a channel-set band ring with a full circle of baguette diamonds in platinum.
Mine? Plain platinum band ring, picked out in zero point four of a second.
Are we finished there? Of course not. Athena has to have her first taste of Tiffany jewellery and so a teddy bear charm completes the shop.
Then where am I dragged to? FAO Shwarz of course. It was me versus two women. That was never going to end well for me. Rings bought and run around me.
K is for knackered
I can't take any more. I take back everything I said. I'm a Groomzilla. The spreadsheet is out of control and I'm only at K. I'm knackered, a slang term for extremely fucking exhausted that I picked up in Britain.
Let's recap.
Ronnie is sorting out the Bridesmaid dresses. I need to double check she's bought these as it would appear she's been preoccupied of late. So I can't cross it off the list yet. Amber.
The cars are booked. I highlight that line in green highlighter. I'm using red for need to get ass in gear and amber for partly sorted.
Stella's dress is at Christopher's. It needs to be moved here. So can't tick that off yet. Amber.
Entertainment - ABC booked - done. Green.
Father of the Bride - Sam - done, but we all need our outfits. Can't cross it off.
Guests sorted. Ronnie is bringing her husband. Yeah that's right, she got married, at a register office no less. I am one jealous bastard. It must have been so easy.
Hen night - done from my side. Just Ronnie's surprise. She's getting good at those - see above.
Invites - awaited.
Jewellery - brought back and stored in a safe place.
Venue - talk
to Mother about.
Now what else? The meringue cake and the ice sculpture still need ordering. I need to ask the venue about food. Chris can advise about getting our suits. To buy or hire? Am I expected to arrange a honeymoon? We need a photographer for the occasion. Surely that's all?
My head is throbbing. It's usually my cock, but no, I have wedding fever and it's making me ill.
CHAPTER FOUR
Stella
With Athena tucked up in bed, sleeping soundly, I go in search of Gabe. He was last seen in the study after we ate. I open the door, but there's no sign of him, other than the computer screen is flickering, a sign of recent activity. I go and check our room and sure enough, there's a lump under the duvet.
'Gabe? You okay?' I get in at the other side of him.
He groans. 'I've got a headache.'
I run my fingers down his temple in a gentle caress. 'Anything I can help you with?'
'Ah Stel. This wedding stuff. I can see why you didn't want to get involved. I've so much to do. I didn't do Save the Date cards. Do you think I should have done Save the Dates? Would you want to keep one? I've got to consider wedding favours. You can have almonds, seeds to plant, alcoholic beverages. I even have to think of how to decorate the chairs. Oooh.' He clutches his head.
I sit back against the headboard, shocked. Where's my level headed man?
'Gabe. I've told you, I'm not bothered about any of those things. Let's just go to City Hall.'
'Ah it's too late. It's almost all set up now. It's just these silly little bits. I want to get it all right. It's important.'
'You can't be getting in this state just to prove that you can arrange a wedding. It's ridiculous. It's okay to give it up. It was a crazy idea for you to arrange the wedding anyway. We should have just let your mother handle it.'
He opens one eye. 'You saying I'm not capable?'
'That's not what I said but look at you. Lying there with a headache. Because of pieces of card.'
'This wedding is going to be the bomb.'
'The bomb seems to be going off in your head.'
'I know what will make it feel better.'
'That's what I was asking when I first came in. Not if you needed help with the wedding you lunatic.'
'Ah.'
'You know what you've turned into don't you?'
Don't say it.
'Groom-zil-la.'
'I have not.'
'What will you do if I go and turn your computer off? Have you saved your spreadsheet?'
Gabe flings himself from the bed, clutching his head and runs out of the room. That's cleared that question up then.
He wanders back in gingerly. 'I shouldn't have done that.'
'Groom-zil-la.'
'I deserve a head massage for those harsh words.'
'Is that so?'
'Most definitely.'
He lays his head in my lap. I use my finger nails to lay delicate trails around his forehead and then apply pressure to his scalp. After a few minutes I feel his shoulders relax. He was so tense. I work my way down each side of his neck.
'Turn over and lay your head over my lap.'
He obliges and I start to knead the base of his neck and shoulders with my finger tips. I can feel the muscles are tight and work to free them.
'Gabe, you can't be getting in this state about the wedding. It's crazy.'
All I get back is a 'Hmmmmmmmmmmmmm.' Someone appears to be enjoying themselves. I continue, letting my fingers move into either side of his backbone. Then I hear it. Rhythmic breathing. He's bloody fallen asleep on me.
I'm stuck under a man and not in the way I prefer. I daren't move yet because he's only just fallen asleep so I'm likely to wake him and it would appear he needs the R&R.
I spend my time looking at him. At the dark hair covering his head. It's glossy. Women pay good money for their hair to look like his, but Gabe's is natural. I gaze at the way his body curves. I want to stroke my hand down his firm arm, knowing how it feels. All taut and strong. All the better to prop himself up on when he's shagging me senseless. Now I'm trapped and wet. I love the fact he's trying to organise our wedding. However it turns out. It'll be Gabe who did it and that's what counts. As long as I'm Mrs Gabriel Gregory on December twenty fourth I'll be a happy woman.
Gabe starts to stir and I roll out from underneath him. I close the door and decide to make the most of the peace and quiet by having a bath.
My Jo Malone candles are lit. The bathwater is hot. It takes me a minute to be able to lower myself in. I don't like any bubbles or anything in my bath. Just hot water. The heat envelopes me as I go further under. I love water. I still go swimming, but it's harder to fit in now I have Athena.
I lay here for an hour, just thinking of nonsense. I love my life right now. The only thing I would change is I would have Ronnie nearer. I can't wait to see her for the wedding to have a good catch up about what she's been up to since her visit. That girl lives her life at a thousand miles per hour, resulting in triumphs and spectacular crashes.
I've been so lost in thought that I haven't realised the bathroom door has been opened and I turn to see the naked silhouette of my fiance.
'Athena is still settled.'
''Kay.'
'My headache's gone.'
''Kay.'
'Your tits look so fine bouncing on the top of the water like that.'
'Go back to bed. I'm enjoying my bath.'
'That's so not going to happen now I've seen you naked.'
He moves further into the bathroom showing me his hardened dick that's springing about like an excited gambolling lamb.
'What's put that look on your face? You ready for me?'
'No. I was thinking about lamb with mint sauce.'
Gabe looks confused. 'What part of my hardened dick is making you think of lamb and mint sauce, you strange British woman?'
'I'm starving.'
'So am I. For your pussy.'
'I tell you what. There's some leftover lamb in the fridge. You make me a sandwich while I get dried off and I'll meet you in the bedroom.'
'I have never known anyone with an appetite like yours. I will go and do this, only because I know that you won't put out if I don't.'
'Damn right.'
Sandwich eaten. Teeth brushed. I walk into the bedroom. I've put my lingerie back on. A metallic silver bra with matching thong.
Gabe is sitting with his back resting against the headboard. He looks like a King sitting at a banquet waiting for the feast to be served. I get wet thinking that I'm the feast.
'Lay yourself at my feet wench.' He says.
I lower my head as if shy.
'But Sir, I'm not sure I know what you mean.'
He leans over and pulls me onto him. 'Let me show you.'
He has me lay on my back with my head resting between his legs. My legs, parted are resting either side of his head. He's pulled me up so that my pussy is splayed before him. My pants didn't last long. It was a waste of time putting them back on. They were catapulted onto the bedroom floor somewhere within around three seconds.
Gabe's hands are under my ass. I look up and see those arm muscles flexing.
'Close your eyes Stella.' His tone is dark and commanding. When he speaks like this, basically straight to my pussy, I do what I'm ordered.
Warm breath approaches, then retreats. My backside is lowered onto Gabe's chest.
I jump as a vibration hits my clit. I open my eyes.
'Closed.' I said.
I close them again before I can make out what he's doing.
A gentle vibration moves over my clit, back and forth. Teasing. It's so gentle. I feel like I have an itch that needs scratching. I begin to move with the undulations.
A pause and then the vibration becomes a little stronger. A finger slips inside me.
'The view up here is fucking fantastic. You're so wet for me Stella. I'm watching your pussy take my finger. Now I know what a treat my cock gets.'
His word
s turn me on even more if that's possible. I start to thrust harder against his fingers.
'That's it babe. Fuck my fingers.' He turns the speed up another notch on the vibration. I can't take any more and explode over his fingers, coating them in my juice.
'You can open your eyes now.'
I look up as he shows me a kind of ring shape over his finger. 'Finger Massager. New toy. You like?'
'I think the answer to that is glistening over your fingers.'
He puts them in his mouth and sucks. 'Better than a fucking lamb sandwich.'
He lifts himself up from underneath me and moves forward lowering himself from above me. 'My turn.' He slides inside me. 'God I love the feel of you. So tight and wanting. Is it okay if I go fast?'
'Yes,' I almost growl.
He takes me hard and fast, each stroke would have had my head hit the headboard if we hadn't been facing the other way on the bed. I feel myself beginning to build again as each hard fuck has him grinding his pelvis into mine.
He begins to pump faster and I feel his climax approach. As I come undone around him, he begins to come himself.
'Oh God. Oh Stella. Fuck.'
Indeed.
Afterwards I lie back in his arms. I love it here. I seem to fit just right in the crook of his underarm.
'Stella?'
'Yeah?'
'When was your last period?'
'What a strange post-coitus question Gabe. I'd prefer was it good for you too.'
'Yeah, well I don't usually get knocked back for a lamb sandwich.'
'Oh fuck.'
'Another? You ready to go again. Well if you say so wench.'
The question of whether I'm with child again gets shelved from my mind as I think of more upcoming orgasms with my man.
My eyes open and I reach across the bed to feel for Gabe. He's not there. Instead there is just the coolness of the covers I brush with my hand. I lean over and switch my bedside lamp on. The light highlights Gabe knelt on the floor, with my pants on his lap. He's looking intently at my bra. As the light makes him jump he throws them off him as if they're on fire.
The Alphabet Wedding (The Alpha Series) Page 3
