“Babe, calm down.” He shakes his head and takes a sip of his coffee, which immediately makes him sputter because it’s so hot. All I do is laugh. Serves him right. “Yeah, laugh it up.”
I relax back into my chair, taking a sip of my cold drink. Thanking God that I don’t order hot drinks ninety percent of the time.
The next thing I knew, it was time for us to board our plane. As soon as I sat down, I plugged in my ear buds so I could drown out everything happening on the plane. The plane ride itself goes without incident, thank the lord. I even thanked the pilot when we got off the plane.
We grab our bags from the luggage carousel, and walk out into the stifling heat of New Orleans. “Holy shit, it’s so much more humid here than it is back in Ohio.”
“Well, yeah. We’re right next to the Gulf. And it’s the middle of August, what did you expect?” Ben is always great with the sarcasm.
I narrow my eyes and point a finger at his chest. “Don’t you start with me already, Ben Morris. I’m not in the mood for your shit. I’m in the mood to get to wherever we’re staying, changing my clothes and going exploring.”
Grabbing my finger, that was only inches from poking him in the chest, he pulls me in close to him. “I will get you to the hotel, and allow you to change. But I’m going to get you drunk baby, so I can take advantage of you later.” He winks and kisses me quick on the lips. The kiss was so quick it didn’t even give me time to kiss him back.
He hails us a cab, we load our stuff into the trunk and hop in the back seat. The cabbie takes off, driving at an alarmingly fast pace, weaving in and out of traffic the entire time. This is almost putting me on edge more than being on the plane did. I’m holding onto Ben’s leg for dear life, trying to keep myself from being thrown around the back with every turn.
A little while later, and we pull up a hotel in the French Quarter. Let me tell you, you see pictures but it doesn’t do this place justice. It looks every bit like you’ve brought a little bit of France over here. I’m sure that’ll change once everyone starts partying tonight, but for now it’s like your own little slice of paradise.
“This hotel is just a couple blocks from Bourbon Street, so it’ll be easy for us to navigate around and not get lost with driving,” Ben tells me as we grab our suitcases.
I can’t stop myself from looking around constantly, even though Ben is trying to usher me inside our hotel. “That was probably smart of you. You know I don’t like driving in places that I’m unfamiliar with. Especially you, because you’re an aggressive driver already.”
He raises his eyebrows, and exclaims, “You think I’m an aggressive driver? That’s funny coming from you.” I follow him into the hotel, giving up trying to take in all the scenery right then. We’ll have plenty of time for me to discover all there is.
Even though I wasn’t really excited, I’m happy that I’m here. I have wanted to visit New Orleans, I just didn’t think it would be after I had kids.
The inside of the hotel is just as grand as everything else I’ve seen from the front of the hotel. This is a super modern, really updated version of a bed and breakfast. It still has that French Quarter charm, without looking dated.
Once we’re checked in, we head up to our room. The room has one king size bed, with a small balcony that overlooks the direction of the French Market. I pull the curtains back, so I can take it in from this level.
There are people milling about the Quarter. I’m excited about the French Market because it’s like a huge flea market, but also offers a bunch of creole food. I think that’s where we’ll head first.
Pulling an actual pair of shorts out of my bag, I pair it with a flowy tank top, and I throw on a pair of Converse. Ben comes out from using the bathroom and stops short when he sees me.
“Now, don’t take this the wrong way. But, I’ve gotten so used to seeing you in nothing but yoga pants and t-shirts, I think depriving me for so long of your sexiness actually makes me feel like you’re more beautiful now.”
Scrunching up my face, I just stare at him. “I know I should take that as a compliment, but that was such a backhanded compliment that I’m not sure what to say to you right now.”
WE WALK OUT OF the hotel hand in hand. It’s been a long time since I’ve been able to enjoy my husband. Which makes me feel guilty, but I try to push that all to the back of my mind. I can’t bring that down here with us, he wants us to have a good weekend. A weekend for us to reconnect as a couple. So Bronson needs to stay locked away tight.
Ben led us in the direction of the market. I stopped and looked at every booth, trying samples of all the food. Bought some dip mixes and a couple random things. We browsed through Mardi Gras masks, trying some on and posing for the other to take pictures. Walking through all the different vendor’s booths, Ben never strayed too far from my side. He always had one hand on me.
Every item that I pointed out that I thought was cool, he never failed to show the proper enthusiasm over. We sat down at a little food vendor and ordered crawfish and a gator poboy. Ben tore into the crawfish, pulling out the meat for me so I didn’t make a mess. And the sandwich came split in half so I placed half on his plate.
Eating in silence, we enjoyed the sounds of what was around us. When we finished eating we cleaned up our trash and threw it all away. Walking towards Bourbon Street, we’re stopped before we’re able to cross the street by a street performer.
Looking at this guy’s contraption has me intrigued. He has like twenty or more instruments, all strapped to a wheelchair. He’s just slowly walking down the street playing the multiple pieces. He waves for some of the tourists standing on the side of the street to come out and play with him.
I lean into Ben. “This is something my dad would enjoy.” He wraps his arm around me and pulls my head closer to him to place a kiss on the top of my hair.
“He would enjoy it, that crazy old man loves all things strange and musical.” He laughs, then adds, “When I walked into the house one time, he was sitting in his recliner listening to Flogging Molly.”
Nodding against his shoulder I chuckle. “Yeah, I’m the one that added a bunch of music like that for him to his mp3 player.”
Once the musical wheel chair is past where we’ve been standing, we make our way across the street. Content in walking up and down every street in the French Quarter, we also go into every single store there is. Buying strange flavored barbeque sauces, beignet mixes for when we go back home, and shot glasses.
We made our way over to Cafe Du Monde and enjoyed the famous beignets with the tar like chickory coffee. The coffee neither of us enjoyed. We had to make several trips back to the hotel with bags of stuff that we bought, stuff I’m not sure is going to fit in our suitcases.
“It’s getting darker out now, are you ready to head to Bourbon Street?” Ben looks like a kid on Christmas morning.
Pulling my hair up into a pony tail, I nod at him. When I drink, I always end up with my hair up so it’s better that I do it sober, instead of buzzed. That way I know what I look like before things go downhill.
“Let’s go see what all the fuss is about over that way.” I lace my fingers through Ben’s and he leads the way out of the hotel. We walk to the end of the all the streets so we can start on one end of Bourbon Street. We can make one pass down the street and be done with it.
Once at the opening of the street, we just stand there for a minute. We’ve both been to festivals and fairs before. But the sight in front of us is, by far, more overwhelming than anything we’ve ever experienced.
“God, it looks like they celebrate Mardi Gras every night of the year down here.” My eyes bounce around and take in all the lights and sounds. There is a group of people standing in a big circle, surrounding something that is going on. I’ve heard about the massive amount of street performers that are down here every night, trying to make money. I’m sure being down here and performing for a bunch of drunk people is the fastest way to make a ton of money.
&nbs
p; “Let’s go see what everyone is watching over here.” Ben tugs me down the road. We pass a couple bars, a couple tourist shops, and a shop filled with bongs. That’s like every pot head’s wet dream right there.
Ben shoulders his way through a hole in the crowd, to get us closer to what’s going on in the center of the circle. With me being short, there is no way I could be on the edge and have any idea what’s going on.
When I get my first glance at the performers, my jaw just about hits the nasty street. I’ve never seen break dancers in person before, but I’ve seen this kind of thing on TV. The particular group in front of us is a pair of dancers that are completely working this crowd. Everyone is clapping and cheering.
They’re amazing too, doing moves I’ve always wanted to do but never had the guts to even attempt. I’m that person that when watching a movie or show that has dancing in it, I always think I should be able to do what the performers pull off. But, sadly, I’m that white girl who has no rhythm.
Ben leans down so he can talk into my ear and I can hear him over the music. “These guys are awesome! We need to tip them when they’re done.”
He turns his attention back to the duo lighting up their portion of the street. I don’t think I’ve ever been this thoroughly entertained by a street performance before. Once this group is finished with their show, we tip them, then continue on our way down the road.
We go into a couple tourist stores and buy a couple keychains and more shot glasses. We find these weird little voodoo dolls and buy one for Kay. We pick out a tie dyed t-shirt for Kody. And with that we have our souvenir shopping all done.
Walking back out onto the street, we head into the next building which just so happens to be a bar. Ben drags me in there before I have a chance to protest. With the live band, it’s hard for him to hear my protesting anyways. He walks up to the little section of the bar that has a sign right above it that says “to go drinks.” After a couple minutes, he turns and hands me a cup and takes a drink of his beer.
Bringing the cup up to my lips, I take a tentative sip. I’m pretty sure he would order something I like, and not surprise me with Crown or anything. Bleh. But, my taste buds are pleased with the taste of the amaretto stone sour.
“Thank you,” I say as soon as we’re out of the bar, that way I didn’t have to shout over the music. “I was kind of worried you would give me something hard so you could get me drunk faster.”
His only response is to laugh at me. Grabbing my hand again, we set off of to explore the rest of the Bourbon Street. We make menial small talk, with all of the bars having live bands, it’s hard to hear each other even on the street.
After making our way down the entire street and a couple more drinks, we decide to veer off onto a side street to walk back towards the hotel.
The side streets are interesting because there are haunted walking tours going on. I wanted to stop Ben and make him do one with me. But it was getting kind of late and we did have to head back home tomorrow.
I’m not drunk, but I am definitely feeling the effects of the alcohol that I consumed. Drunk sex was always my favorite way to have sex with Ben. We’re both so uninhibited, taking exactly what we want.
So as soon as the door to our room is shut, I pounce on him. Shoving him against the wall right inside the door, my hands instantly drop to his belt buckle. Struggling with my tipsiness to get a good grasp on it.
Ben tangles his hands into the back of my hair, bringing my lips straight to his for a searing kiss. A kiss so demanding it has our teeth clashing, which makes me chuckle.
“You’re laughing? Laughing? Right now?” His hands drop from my hair, and go down to cup my ass pulling me against him. He flips us around so my back is pinned against the wall. His hands find mine, and he pulls them above my head and places them on a light fixture that’s hanging on the wall.
“Hold on, babe.” I latch my fingers over the base of the light and close my eyes. Ben unbuttons my shorts and slowly lowers the zipper. Grasping the material on each side, he gradually lowers my shorts until they’re pooling at my feet. He grabs each foot and helps me step out of my shoes and then my shorts.
Ben leaves his hands on my feet, and slowly caresses my legs, gliding his hands up to my hips and then grasps me. Pulling my forward slightly, he puts his face against my lace panties. I hear him inhale, and that small gesture makes me jerk against his face wanting to take what he’s offering.
“God, babe. Your scent drives me insane.” He pushes my legs apart as far as they’ll go. He runs his fingers along my lips, and then pulls the lace aside. He strokes my lips back and forth before he pushes a finger into me. “You’re always so wet for me.”
I’m trying to keep my hands on the light, but my legs feel like they’re going to give out on me. “Ben, can we go to the bed?” I ask on a breathy moan.
With his finger inside of me, pumping in and out, it’s hard to make a coherent sentence come out of my mouth.
“Are you losing control already? I thought I taught you better than that.” Ben stands and I immediately miss the delicious pressure he was building. Whimpering, I sag forward against him. He easily lifts me, and I wrap my legs around him. Walking us over to the bed, he throws me onto it when his legs hit the mattress.
“Let me teach you a little about control.” He drags my hands up to the headboard, which is a wrought iron design, so it’s easy to slip my hands through and grab onto. “Don’t let go. And don’t come unless I tell you to.”
His deep, growling voice hits me right in my core. I could come just from his dirty talk sometimes, especially when he breaks out that voice on me.
I feel the bed dip with him getting up. I don’t ask him where he’s going, because I know he won’t answer me. He digs through his suitcase and comes back to the bed with a bottle of lube that he must have added to it.
“We need to get your shirt and bra out of the way.” I slip my hands back through and help him remove my shirt but he stops me when he gets the shirt and bra to my eyes. He uses my clothes as a makeshift blindfold. It also traps my hands up, against my head. Which will only help to keep me from letting go.
“Don’t you dare let go.” That voice again. I can’t see a single thing through my shirt, which is the point obviously.
Ben runs his hands lightly down my sides, and comes back to my hips. Dipping a hand into my core, I instinctively open my legs for him. Opening myself up to whatever he wants to do to me.
I FEEL BEN’S TONGUE on my clit. He uses his fingers to spread me open for his perusal. I almost sob in relief when he applies pressure to my clit and inserts a couple fingers into me. My hips buck against his fingers, trying to help him get deeper.
But he instantly pulls out and away from me. “Now, is that control? I’m pretty sure it isn’t, we can do this all night if you want. You will hold still.”
His mouth comes back to my clit, and he pulls it in between his teeth. The instant pain slowly ebbs as he sooths it with his tongue. I bite my tongue, trying to hold in a moan. He inserts his fingers into my pussy again.
Pushing my hips into the bed, I focus on the sensations of him hitting my G-spot. Instead of trying to get closer to his mouth. He moans against me, his tongue lapping up my juices that I can feel leaking out of me.
My arousal is always evident for him.
I hear the unmistakable sound of a bottle top opening. The lube. I feel him move to where he is leaning down on his knees on the bed, bringing my hips to rest against his bent legs. Opening me up to him in every way.
“Have you ever wondered what it would be like having two cocks inside of you at once? Filling you, fucking you, making you come harder than you’ve ever come before?”
He brings the bottle of lube against my tight back entrance. The liquid slides down my cheeks, but he quickly snaps the top and drops the bottle to catch the lube. His fingertip slips into me. The fingers in my pussy scissor open, pulling my focus back to them. Instead of on the finger trying to ga
in entrance.
Pulling back out a tiny bit, he pushes against me again. “Don’t move, remember. Or all of this will stop.”
His finger finally pops past that ring of muscle and slides all the way in. I moan, and he chuckles. I have a white knuckle grip on the bars, desperately trying to hold myself still. “If you move either of your fingers right now, I’m going to come.” My voice is riddled with desire.
“Well, we can’t have that can we? I need my dick inside you before you come.” The loss of his fingers has me letting go of my restraint, and has me writhing against the mattress. “Hold on, love. As soon as I get out of my clothes, I’ll take care of you.”
I hear his clothes hit the floor, and seconds later he’s crawling back onto the bed with me. “Let go of the bars for me.” He grabs my shirt and bra and takes them off of my head throwing them onto the floor. Then says, “Flip over for me.”
My hands ache from gripping the bars. I follow his instructions and flip myself over, getting up on all fours for him. I feel his warmth against my back as he leans over me and grabs a couple pillows. He places the pillows below my hips so I can rest against them. Lowering myself down, I grab another pillow and place it under my head.
Reaching above me, I grab the sheet and fist my hands in it. To help me hold still while he fucks me, so I don’t end up smashing my face against the headboard.
Ben leans down and places a kiss in the center of my back. “God, your back dimples are sexy as fuck. Seeing your ass in the air, just for me, has me harder than steel.”
I feel him press against my entrance, and he slides himself in. He has no resistance with how worked up he has me. He stops when he has himself fully seated in me. His deep groan sends shivers down my spine.
Anchoring himself to my hips, he pulls put. Only to slam back home. He repeats this delicious torture. Pulling out slowly then slamming back home. Worshipping me with his body, showing me how much he loves me. Fucking his love into me.
Until we both come on a long series of moans and groans. And in this moment, everything is right. Everything is whole. Nothing can touch us.
In My Head Page 12
