Moore than Forever

by Julie Richman

  “The only thing I could think about all evening was your wet pussy underneath this dress and I how I couldn’t wait to get my mouth on it.”

  “Please don’t let me stop you,” Mia teasingly pushed his head.

  Running his hands from the insides of her knees slowly up her thighs and pressing outward, he spread her wide, letting the cool night air lick her wetness. Slowly, he ran his hands back down the insides of her thighs until he felt goose bumps rise on her skin. The late September night air was chilly and he wanted her hot, wet pussy to cool down.

  Taking a finger, he ran it up her wet slit, dipping it into her, before pulling it out and slowly licking his finger.

  “Mmm,” was all he said, and he pushed her legs further apart, burying his face in her.

  “I love when you go down on me,” her fingers were combing through his thick hair as she pressed herself harder against his face.

  Pulling away slightly, the tip of his pointed tongue gently traveled up her pussy until he reached her clit, licking all around it in a slow, sweeping motion.

  “Oh God, that feels so good. More.”

  His tongue moved back, lapping up the wetness and with both hands, he spread her wide, and began to suck.

  “Fuck,” she screamed, “oh fuck, Schooner.” Pressing his head into her harder, she thrust into his face and tongue, desperately trying to get herself off. Tightly wrapping her legs around his head, she began to quake around his face.

  When her tremors subsided, he looked up at her, shit eating grin on his face and sang, “Baby Girl, I want to marry you,” as he undid his pants and kicked them off.

  “I think the song is little girl not baby girl.”

  Climbing up her body and pinning her beneath him, a hand trapped on either side of her head, “Excuse me, who’s The Boss?”

  Her lips started forming a Br sound.

  “Who’s The Boss?” he repeated, spreading her legs with his and pushing deep into her.

  “You,” she croaked.

  “That’s right and I say the song is Baby Girl, I want to marry you,” he sang again.

  “Whatever you say, Boss,” she smiled and wrapped her legs around him, pressing his ass with her feet to get him deeper into her.

  “So this may be your last time having sex as a single woman, unless I decide to fuck you in the morning,” he smiled down at her.

  “What if I have a headache?” she hit him with a devil grin.

  “Then I’ll let you blow me.”

  “You’ll let me, huh?”

  He nodded, smiling, a lock of dirty blonde hair falling down on his forehead.

  “I’m just that kind of guy,” he laughed.

  Smiling at each other in the dark night, just the glow of the moon illuminating a path along the ocean, they rocked together with a slow, easy rhythm feeling every luxurious inch of one another.

  “You feel so good inside of me,” she sought his lips, tasting herself on them and licking them with the tip of her tongue. “Harder,” she urged him on.

  “Like this?” and he rammed into her repeatedly.

  “Yes,” her voice quivered as her muscles clamped down hard on his cock milking everything out of him.

  Moving his cheek against hers he took a few deep breaths filling his lungs up with the cool night air and whispered, “I promise I’ll love you forever.”

  “That’s not long enough,” she whispered back, holding his head against her tight.

  “God, you’re a greedy little thing,” he was smiling into her ear.

  “Yes, I am. And I want you to love me for more than forever.”

  “It’s a deal, Baby Girl.”

  Chapter Sixty

  “The kids are taken care of?” it was a question. “Who’s watching the kids?” Mia was stressing as the stylist coiled her curls into an updo, pinning each one with a tiny white rose and seed pearl bobby pin.

  “The kids are fine,” Lois reassured her, “and your father and I will be staying with them while you are gone.”

  “How long will you be there?” Mia pressed.

  “Do you think I’m going to fall for that? Let your husband tell you when he’s ready,” her mother was not going to be the one to share Schooner’s secret plans.

  “I don’t have a husband,” Mia sulked.

  “Keep that up and you won’t, BBC,” Seth’s nerves were starting to get the best of him.

  “Can I open this?” Joni picked up a bottle of champagne. “I think we all need this.”

  “Please do,” was the resounding chorus from those in the suite having hair and makeup done.

  Pouring glasses for Mia, Lois, Seth, Kami, Dee and herself, Joni raised a glass, “To marrying the love of your life. He was always in your heart and now he’ll always be in your arms.”

  Mia’s eyes filled with tears and Seth pointed a finger at her. “Don’t,” was his single word command.

  There was a knock at the door and Kami got up to open it. Holly was there with Nathaniel and Portia.

  “Mommy, you look so pretty,” Portia came running in.

  “Dad said he’ll meet you back at the cottage when you’re ready,” Holly delivered Schooner’s message and poured herself a glass of champagne. “Ah, so this is where the fun is.”

  “Big fun. Now drink up,” Seth said to Holly, “you’re next,” pointing to the stylist’s chair. “Come here, Portia, I’ll put some make-up on you,” the little girl ran to Seth.

  “I miss them already,” Mia mumbled.

  “You will be taking vacations with them for the next twenty years. Trust me, enjoy this one. You deserve a honeymoon,” Joni spoke from experience.

  “So where is your dad taking me?” Mia asked Holly in the mirror.

  Laughing, “I’ve only had one glass of champagne, Mia. I’m not falling for that.”

  “You will all pay for this, I promise you.” Mia glared at them in the mirror.

  Refilling her champagne glass, Seth leveled her a glance, “Drink up, Bridezilla, before we all drag you out to the ocean and drown you.”

  “Hey Gorgeous,” he greeted her with his real smile when she entered the cottage.

  “Hey Handsome,” she went to him for a kiss.

  Laughing, “You look stressed, Baby Girl.”

  “You have everything covered with the kids while we’re gone?”

  “Mia,” he looked into her eyes with an ‘Are you serious?’ look.

  “Of course you do. I’m just stressing,” she threw herself down on the couch, dramatically.

  Picking up a bottle of champagne, “Everything is taken care of, now just enjoy yourself. This is our party, there’s nothing for us to do besides have a good time.”

  Handing her the champagne, he smiled, “I have something for you.”

  “Funny, because I have something for you, too.” She put down the champagne and went into the bedroom emerging with a box wrapped in silver foil paper topped with a sapphire blue ribbon.

  “You go first,” he urged and she handed him the box.

  Carefully, he removed the paper and opened the rectangular box, his eyes crinkling with his smile. Removing the object, he held it up to his nose, breathing in the heady aroma of hand-hewn leather. Turning it over in his hands, running his thumbs over the vintage distressed leather, Schooner marveled at the craftsmanship of the leather-bound travel journal, but what amazed him most, was the silver clasp with the leather ties wrapped around it. Anchoring the book, to keep it closed was a sterling silver replica of True Compass.

  “Wow,” looking up at her speechless. Unwinding the straps he opened the journal. In neat handwriting were pages that had been filled in with a fountain pen.

  “It’s some poems and things that I’ve written over the years. Things about you and my journey back to you. The rest is blank. It’s for the journey we haven’t written yet.”

  Schooner nodded. He couldn’t speak. Looking back at the book to avoid tears, he read the first entry.

  Sky Diving B
lues

  Flying high

  a flirtation with the sun

  The slow descent

  to a burned Rome

  The neighborhood hasn’t changed

  “When did you write that?” his voice was choked.

  “The beginning of sophomore year.”

  He nodded without looking up and continued to leaf through the journal until he reached the last entry.

  September 27th

  My wishes on a million twinkling stars come true today.

  Sitting very still, he closed his eyes, breathing in deeply. “The best gift ever,” his voice was hoarse with emotion, “and I promise we will fill the rest of these pages with incredible memories.”

  Reaching behind a pillow on the couch, Schooner pulled out a flat rectangular Tiffany’s box.

  With a devil grin, “What’s in it this time? Potato chips?”

  His smile matched hers and he nodded, “Pringles,” knowing how much she hated the ‘fake’ chips as she often referred to real potato chips and French fries as the perfect food.

  Handing her the box, she worked off the ribbon and opened the outer box. Removing a flat Tiffany blue velvet box, she gazed up at Schooner.

  “Open it,” he silently mouthed.

  Now it was Mia’s turn to try and fight tears. Lying on a blanket of silk was a white gold chain. Dangling on the end were three keys, a pink rose gold key with a heart at the top containing three small diamonds, a silver key with its heart embossed in Tiffany baby blue enamel and in the center was a larger key encrusted in diamonds and sapphires the color of Schooner’s eyes.

  There they were, the three keys to her heart; Portia, Nathaniel and Schooner.

  “It’s my family,” she looked up at him, her voice now choked and tight.

  Reaching into the box, Schooner removed the necklace. “Turn around.”

  And she did.

  Fastening the symbolic necklace, he leaned forward giving her neck the softest of kisses. Mia shivered.

  Standing, he helped her up from the couch. “I’ll leave you to get dressed now.”

  She held onto his hand until the contact of their fingertips broke, the feeling of his touch lingering long after their separation.

  “Schooner,” she called out to him as he was through the door.

  Stopping, he turned back.

  “I love you.”

  Cocking his head to the side and regarding her, he smiled brightly, “It’s smoochal, Baby Girl,” and closed the door behind him.

  Chapter Sixty-one

  Photographers refer to it as ‘The Golden Hour’. It happens early in the morning shortly after sunrise and again in the late afternoon just prior to the sky’s spectacular sunset light show. With the sun low in the sky, warm golden rays bathe everything in a soft honeyed side-light.

  Rows of white chairs lined the beach. Down a center aisle ran a runner of white raw silk that Elan Gerstler had his team attach to wood. At the end of the runner was a white silk organza canopy, the traditional wedding chuppah, its flowing fabric tied back by arrangements of roses in white and pale pink. The sun’s warm rays illuminated the sheer fabric setting off an exquisite, diffused glow.

  At the chuppah, waiting for his bride stood Schooner Moore. Looking as one with his surroundings, he was dressed in a beige Bianco Brioni linen suit the color of the sand, his linen shirt, a pale blue that matched his eyes with thin white stripes, open at the collar. He wore no tie.

  If someone had wandered onto the beach, they might have thought this to be a photo shoot for a men’s suit company, the handsome model playing the groom. Everything about the setting evoked a magical, ethereal air.

  Dressed in a simple sheath dress, the color of Schooner’s shirt, Yoli came and stood next to him. His arm immediately went around her shoulder as he pulled her into him for a side hug and smile.

  Strains of music began and Schooner listened closely. What is this, he asked himself. He knew that he knew it, but it wasn’t expected and therefore he couldn’t quite place it. As it continued to play, he started singing in his head and when he realized what it was, he actually laughed out loud. His Mia, he mused, as he continued to sing to himself Bruce Springsteen’s If I Should Fall Behind.

  There was a round of laughter as Portia stepped onto the white silk runner dressed in a pale pink taffeta dress. She carefully plucked pink rose petals from a white wicker basket and placed them gently on the runner. As she slowly walked down the aisle, stopping along the way to smile at people, she evoked more laughter from the crowd.

  Nearing the front, she yelled out “Hi Daddy,” and Schooner beamed, waving back and laughing with everyone else.

  At the sound of her voice, Nathaniel came alive in Holly’s lap, pointing and screaming, “Po, Po, Po,” to get his sister’s attention. Raucous laughter erupted from the crowd. Jumping up from his seat, a laughing Zac scooped up Portia when she reached the front of the runner and brought her back to an empty seat next to him.

  With her children stealing the show, no one noticed that Mia and her parents had arrived and were standing at the far end of the runner. Laughing at her baby’s antics, Mia nerves floated out with the tide.

  “So much for a classy affair,” she whispered, laughing.

  Looking up at the chuppah, her eyes met Schooner’s for the first time and she could feel her smile matching his in magnitude and luminosity. His real smile had never looked so beautiful and the fifty feet she was away from him felt like miles. She couldn’t get to him soon enough.

  Lois and Bob walked her halfway up the aisle and kissed her goodbye and then Schooner began his journey to meet her halfway, the strains of If I Should Fall Behind, still playing.

  Their eyes locked upon each other, he took her arm in his and looked down at her.

  Simultaneously they whispered, “Showtime,” and broke into laughter, as they continued on their journey.

  Passing the front row, “Mommy, you look beautiful,” Portia was waving and again, all the guests roared with laughter. Mia blew her little girl a kiss and she blew one back.

  Standing, Seth joined Mia under the chuppah. In a charcoal grey suit and a tie the color of Schooner’s shirt and Yoli’s dress, he had pulled off elegant in outfitting this very untraditional wedding party.

  Mia squeezed his hand and leaned over to kiss him, “I love you, Princess,” she whispered.

  He squeezed her hand back tightly. Seth Shapiro could not speak.

  As the judge commenced his oration, the clouds over the ocean began their spectacular light show, beginning with a golden glow that quickly migrated to a soft orange hue, casting like colored light onto the waves.

  Finishing his part, he asked Schooner and Mia if they wanted to speak.

  Schooner looked to Mia, who slightly shook her head no.

  “You don’t want to cry?” he whispered.

  And she affirmed with a smile and a slight shake of her head.

  “I’d like to say a few words,” Schooner began in a strong voice. “Mia has chosen not to speak because she doesn’t want to cry. If she cries, her makeup will get ruined and Seth will kill both of us.”

  The crowd laughed and Seth turned to them, “It’s true. Smart move.”

  Taking both of Mia’s hands in his, he smiled down at her. “Bet you didn’t know I speak Italian,” he began and looked out at the guests. “This woman here is my love, mi amour,” he paused. “Mi amour, Italian for my love and maybe just divine providence, because it also happens to be my wife’s name, Mia Moore.” Looking back at Mia, “Or maybe it was just always meant to be, because you have always been my love. My one true love. You know I take my promises to you very seriously, and here’s one that will be very easy for me to keep, I will spend every day of the rest of my life loving you.”

  “It’s smoochal,” she whispered for only him to hear.

  Looking at the judge, he asked, “Are we married? Because I really need to kiss her.”

  Laughing, the judge hastened h
is speech, “By the power vested in me by the State of New York, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss your bride.”

  “Forever mine,” he whispered against her lips, before claiming their long awaited first kiss as Mr. and Mrs. Schooner James Moore.

  Chapter Sixty-two

  Kissing a sleeping Portia and Nathaniel goodbye in Lois and Bob’s hotel suite, Schooner and Mia took one last long look at their beautiful babies before making their way back to the terrace.

  Starting to make the rounds of bidding guests goodnight, it appeared the party was going to continue long after they were gone.

  “Come,” Schooner pulled Mia by the hand after hugging their parents and closest friends, leading her through the hotel’s main lobby, they exited the front door.

  “Check that out. How cool,” Mia pointed to a vintage yellow checker cab circa 1950-something.

  Smiling, Schooner pulled her in the cab’s direction.

  “Is that for us?” there was excitement in her voice.

  “Yes, we’re actually going to get into a cab together tonight.”

  “Oh wow, married life is different,” Mia joked, as Schooner opened the cab door for her.

  “Good evening, Mr. and Mrs. Moore,” the driver greeted them.

  “Please say that again,” Mia’s delight was contagious and the driver obliged.

  Pulling out of Gurney’s Inn, the cab made a right turn onto Old Montauk Highway, heading east.

  “Schooner, where are we going? We’re heading east toward Montauk Point.” Mia was confused as they headed for the very eastern tip of Long Island’s famed south fork.

  “You always did have a good sense of direction,” he teased.

  “You’re not going to tell me, are you?” she punched him playfully in his solid upper arm.