Birthday Bride (3 page)

It
was hard to concentrate with his thumb making small circles on my breast.  “Um. 
We’re not Indian? And it’s pre-marital sex that I don’t believe in, not... not
knowing your spouse until you’re married.”

“You’re
not just a virgin, you’re new to all of this, huh?” He emphasized his statement
with pressing his leg into me more.  I groaned at the sensation, and clutched
at my husband’s back.  Apparently I was the type of woman to scratch.  Huh.  Who
knew?

“Yes,
it’s new.  I’d ask you to stop, but I don’t think I’d have a leg to stand on.  Oh
hey, there is yours again.  Um, if you want to talk, you’d better stop that.  Ahem. 
Anyway, we’re not an arranged marriage.”

“You
don’t think Carlos and Glennys set us up?”

I
sat up abruptly, banging our heads together.  Ouch.  “They did this
deliberately?”

“What
do you think?” He raised an eyebrow, which was a lot sexier than I think he
knew.

“A
blind date on steroids,” I said with a sigh.  “Glennys knows I would never
agree to another blind date, not after the last one.” He looked expectant.  “That’s
a tale for another day.” Good gracious, I was considering this!  “So you want
to stay married? This isn’t a valid marriage.  Neither one of us meant to do
this.”

He
thought for a few seconds.  “But the papers have been signed.  In the eyes of
the law, we’re married.  It’s just a matter of if we acknowledge it.”

I
laughed mockingly.  “
Just
.  You make it sound so simple.”

“Why
shouldn’t it be?”

“We
know nothing about each other! Yeah, I had a good time talking to you last
night.  I’d say yes to going on a date.  But there’s so much we just don’t
know.”

“I
know you like this,” Mark said, and brought his leg, thumb, and mouth into
action all at once.  He didn’t play fair.  His other hand slipped under my
shirt as well, making my hands jealous.  I tugged on his shirt from his jeans,
and was pulling it up to run my hands across his skin when a throat cleared
next to us.

CHAPTER 2

Mark
stopped kissing me and looked up.  I closed my eyes, knowing who was there.

“Sorry
to interrupt, Abby, but the rest of the girls will be here any minute,” Jackie
said.  Right on cue, a knock sounded at the door.  She moved to go answer it
and Mark got off me.

“I’m
sorry about that,” I told him, truly meaning it.  I was quite enjoying myself,
and looking forward to where it was leading.  I got off the couch as well, and
moved to where he was standing by an armchair.

“I’m
not,” he said, sitting down and pulling me down onto his lap.  He pulled my
head close to whisper in my ear.  “Your first time shouldn’t be on the couch.”
I shivered, his husky voice turning me even more on.  I could tell he was too,
feeling his erection through his jeans.  I wasn’t surprised that he put me on
his lap to hide it from the bridal party.  It was one thing to be interrupted
by the bride while making out, but it was a completely different thing to show
the results of the make-out session to the rest of the girls.

“Legs.”
Mark nudged my shoulder, pointing with his chin down at my bare legs.  Oops.  I
dashed off his lap, grabbed the throw, and cuddled back up with him, now
covered from the waist down, by the time the bridesmaids danced in. 

Literally.

The
conga line came by, with each woman handing me part of a mimosa–first the
plastic flute, then a few drops of orange juice as justification of the time of
day, then a very full glass of champagne was poured.  By the empty bottle they
put on the coffee table, they’ve been at it for a while.  No wonder Jackie
slept on the couch.

“Glennys
told us the good news–congratulations!” Marcy said, raising her glass from
across the room in a toast.  I elevated my glass along with the rest of the
girls, and sipped the contents while her statement sunk in.

“You
were right,” I told Mark in a low voice.

He
chuckled.  “We’re off to a good start to our marriage if you’re already
admitting that.”

I
slapped him lightly in the chest.  “Don’t get cocky.  I mean Glennys and Carlos. 
That confirms it.  They planned this.”

He
nodded, looking around the room at the inhabitants.  Glennys was conspicuously
absent.  “Now we just need to figure out why.”

I
think I knew, but I wasn’t going to tell him.

“Oh
hey, now that you’re married, you can have your birthday spanking,” one of the
bridesmaids said with a gleam in her eye.

Oh,
good gravy, no.  I need to get less turned on at the moment, and having Mark’s
large hand on my panty-clad rear wouldn’t get me any less aroused.  “Sorry, but
the window of opportunity passed.  It’s no longer my birthday.”

There,
take that.

“They
aren’t going to give up,” Mark warned into my ear.

“Neither
am I,” I whispered back.

“It’s
your un-birthday! You need an
un
-birthday spanking!”

Shit. 
Okay, think fast.  “Isn’t it your un-birthday as well?” Let’s see how she feels
when the shoe is on the other foot.

“Ooh,
yes! Move, Abby, so I can get over his knee.”

“No!”
Great.  I wasn’t going to let my husband spank five women.

“I
think you lost,” Mark chuckled.  “I won’t spank hard.” I drained the rest of my
champagne, wishing the rest of the bridal party hadn’t already finished the
second bottle. 
Maybe they’ll be too drunk to remember this tomorrow
?  I
wouldn’t be so lucky.  Then again, I’ll probably be replaying it in my dreams
for the next few nights.  Why was I fighting this again?

Mark
scooted forward in the chair, and gave me a quick kiss on my forehead before
flipping me over.  The throw blanket fell off.  Of course it would.  Why would
I get extra padding?

True
to his word, my soldier used a light hand.  Still, I yelped by the tenth smack. 
The girls giggled, but continued to count.  I was glad they were, for I had no
shot of keeping track.  I was too busy trying not to die of embarrassment, and
hoping like hell that Mark couldn’t tell the spanking was turning me on.  Because,
honestly, I was totally turned on.  My dreams of being spanked were coming
true, and other than the fact that my friends were witnessing it, the reality
was living up to the fantasy.

My
simple cotton panties–even though I was bland, my panties weren’t, Victoria’s Secret
prints, thank you very much–did nothing to diffuse the heat from my husband’s
hand.  The nearness of his fingers to my privates made each spank that much
better.  The fingertips might lightly brush the area covered by the panties, or
the heel of his hand might rub briefly after smacking the far cheek before
lifting for another spank.

He
stopped when the girls counted twenty-nine, and the party argued over the “one
to grow on”.  One hard one, some said.  Between the legs, others insisted.  Jackie
settled it, saying it should be one hard spank between my legs.  Great.  If
Mark couldn’t already tell I was horny, the wetness of the fabric would be a
dead giveaway.

The
thirtieth spank came right where the girls requested, hard enough to take my
breath away.  He kept his hand in place, cupping my heat.  Yeah, he could tell. 
He shifted his fingers, stroking me, and I let a moan escape.

“Alright
then, you lot had your fun.  We’ll be in the other room.” He ignored the girls’
“oooh’s” and scooped me up in his arms and carried me into the bedroom, kicking
the door shut behind him.

Mark
placed me gently on the bed, and curled himself around me.  “I’m sorry I hurt
you,” he said, and wiped tears I didn’t know I shed from my face.  I shook my
head from where it was buried in his neck.

“I
liked it,” I said softly.

Apparently
I said it too softly, because Mark said, “Abby, honey, I can’t hear you.  Can
you say that again?”

Great. 
Not only did I have to admit my kink, I had to say it twice.  “I liked it,” I
said louder, but still quietly enough so not to be heard from the other room.  I
was very cognizant of their existence out there.  “Not the pain,” I made sure
to say.  “But... I don’t know how to explain.  The... nearness? Closeness? I
mean, just being over your knee turned me on.  So yeah, this is me.  Leave now
while you can.”

He
only hugged me tighter.  “I think this clinches why Carlos and Glennys set us
up.  He has mentioned a club before that he’s been to.”

I
sat up straighter.  “Glennys has been encouraging me to go to one with her.  They
must have met there, and decided to plan this all out.  Let me guess, Carlos
suggested you guys come here this weekend?”

He
nodded.  I could tell he was glad he distracted me from the tears.  Good guy or
not, a crying woman is always difficult to deal with.

“I
just don’t get it.  Why would she do this?” I fumed.

He
shrugged.  “To see their friends happy?”

“I’m
sorry, Mark, but I’m not happy right now.  I got married, pretty much without
my consent.  I’m tired, confused, just got my first-ever adult spanking, and am
rather turned on.  I’m not all that happy.”

My
husband kissed my forehead.  “Could you be?”

I
didn’t answer, but also didn’t stop him from planting light kisses on my face. 
Biology and hormones took back over, and I let my hands explore his broad chest
through his golf shirt.  Strong, tight muscles responded under my touch, and he
shifted to lie on top of me.  He slid his hands beneath the waistband of my
underwear, and cupped the buttocks he had so recently spanked.  I arched my
back, giving him access to the full skin, and he slid the panties down to my
knees.

Laughter
rang from the other room, and I sighed.  I put my hands on his chest, pushing
him away gently.  “I’m sorry, I can’t.”

Like
a flash, he was off of me, and off the bed.  He tucked his shirt back in and
apologized profusely.

“No.”
I smiled, suggestively I hoped, and looped a finger through his belt loop,
pulling him closer.  “I can’t do it with them in the other room.”

He
grinned like a five year old boy just given a new toy car.  “I’ll go get a room. 
Don’t move a muscle.” He was gone in a flash.

I
grinned at his enthusiasm, and stretched, hoping he returned soon.  Stretching
reminded me my undies were at my knees, and I pulled them back up, not wanting
any of the girls to walk in.  My bladder demanded attention, so I headed into
the bathroom to perform my daily ablutions.

By
the time I had finished freshening up, I had second, and third, thoughts about
staying married.  He was a stranger, for crying out loud! To whom I had just
bared my rear and soul to.  He wasn’t getting us a room for ourselves, he was
running for the hills! If he was smart, that is.  Why would I want him if he
wasn’t smart?

Yeah,
I wasn’t being consistent or logical.  But my friend had set me up, and I didn’t
want to be taken advantage of.  Or take advantage of him, which it really felt
like I’d been doing.  I’d gotten my spanking.  I didn’t need anything more.  This
wasn’t a valid marriage; we were going to get annulled.  So having sex with
Mark, while probably really nice, would still count as having sex before
marriage.  Since this wasn’t a real marriage.  I would be playing fast and
loose with definitions, and my ethics and virginity, by staying.

I
had convinced myself, and hurried to pack before Mark returned.  I left the
bedroom fully clothed for a change, my roller bag behind me.  I threw the girls
a quick wave and a “see you Monday,” and hightailed it towards the elevator.  It
dinged right as I arrived.

*****

“Going
somewhere?” Mark smiled grimly at me, and waved me past his arm into the
elevator. 
Shit
.

“I... ah....”

“Save
it.”

I
slunk into the far corner of the elevator.  Any desire to hit the Lobby button
was squelched by my rather large husband standing in front of the control panel.

“You
know what, to hell with it.” With that cryptic statement, he pulled the stop
button on the elevator, setting off an annoying buzzer.  He grabbed my roller
carry-on hard-sided bag, rested his foot on it, and flipped me over his knee.

“Yipe!”
This wasn’t the teasing, joking, fun spanks of the birthday spanking, even over
my jeans.  These smacks HURT.  The spanking was quick but severe, getting its
point across.  Mark pulled me back up, then pressed me up against the back of
the elevator, the metal don’t-hit-me-luggage-cart rail digging into my smarting
rear.  His body rested against the length of me, and his mouth captured mine
for a toe-curling round of tonsil-hockey.

The
squawk of the elevator phone broke us apart.  Mark ignored the phone and pushed
the stop button back in, and the elevator resumed its upward journey.  I stayed
leaning against the back of the elevator, blinking, not able to form any
coherent thoughts.  The only thing running through my mind was “hubba hubba
hubba hubba!”