Read Siren's Garter: Issue One August 2016 Online
Authors: Miriam F. Martin
Tags: #romance, #suspense, #comedy, #pulp, #humor, #spies, #menage, #urban, #wedding, #work place
And then she took Kevin in her arms
and French kissed him.
Epilogue
Elsie shut the bridal suite door
behind her, and leaned against it, sighing in sweet relief. Her
white satin gown crushed against the door, but she didn’t care. All
the tension leading up to the wedding just sort of drifting out of
her body, leaving her feeling euphoric and full of
energy.
Kevin reached over her shoulder and
slid the chain in place. “Mrs. Kincaid,” he said.
“
Hubby,” she said.
His black tuxedo fit him perfectly.
He looked like 007 with his bow-tie undone and collar button open,
dashing and roguish, tied up in a neat packaging Elsie couldn’t
wait to unwrap. She reached around his waist, inside his jacket,
and pulled Kevin closer.
He cupped her face in both hands
and kissed her. His breath tasted of champagne and vanilla frosted
wedding cake.
They had danced until midnight,
which seemed to be the time when sleepy Wenakaga closed down for
the night. There’d been the requisite speeches, the thank yous, the
hugs and shaking hands. Then the guests all wanted to go back to
their rooms.
Good thing, so did
Elsie.
She heard a bed-frame squeaking
repeatedly from directly below. In Zack’s room. Hard to say, but
she thought she heard muffled moaning as well.
Kevin shook his head, frowning. He
heard it too. “Poor guy. I mean, I hated him. But he’s going to be
sore.”
Elsie tore his tux jacket off. “So
will you.”
The ritual undressing took about
thirty seconds. She popped the buttons off his shirt. He broke her
dress’s zipper. Then they were down to the underwear. She wore a
black strapless bra and matching lace panties. He had on black silk
boxers.
Elsie blinked and they were both
naked, rolling around in bed and crinkling the sheets. Kevin rolled
on top of her, the tip of his cock pressed to her lower
lips.
“
Baby, slow down,” she said. For
some stupid reason, her entire body felt wound up tighter than a
stubborn wine cork that wouldn’t pop. She was so nervous, her
fingers shook. So she pressed them to Kevin’s neck, hoping he
wouldn’t notice.
They’d had sex more times than she
could count, including yesterday. How was this any
different?
Kevin kissed her on the forehead,
just a light touch with his lips. “You’re right,” he said. “This
will be a long night.”
“
Won’t I get my beauty
rest?”
“
That can wait for
tomorrow.”
“
Good.” Elsie pulled him for
another kiss, on the lips. Which he gave her, then he grabbed her
wrists and pinned her arms to the bed.
While he kissed down her
neck.
To her shoulders. Breasts. Each
nipple got a sweet kiss, sending ripples of pleasure through her
body.
Kevin kept going lower. Down her
stomach.
At her pelvis, he stopped, a wicked
grin stretched across his face. Elsie exhaled, butterflies
fluttering in her stomach, skin flushed and warm. She waited for
him press his mouth on her sensitive pussy.
Instead, Kevin kissed and licked
her thighs, skipping over her clitoris, barely touching the labia.
Teasing with his tongue, back and forth, his moans growing wilder
and louder with each passing.
Elsie grabbed him by the hair and
pressed his face into her. He sank his tongue inside, nibbling at
her, probing, making her squirm and buck for more.
He pressed a finger in, and curled
his knuckles so he rubbed on her G-spot. Her pussy became wet,
slick with both his saliva and her own moisture. Kevin didn’t stop
licking and sucking and finger-fucking, even when she wrapped her
legs around his head. Not even when she bucked her hips at
him.
The orgasm built little by little,
the pressure so intense Elsie knew she’d explode if Kevin didn’t
let her come soon.
She white-knuckle clutched the
bedsheets.
Sweat beaded on her brow, and down
her back.
Her whole body shook and jittered
with rapture.
Slick wet sounds, so satisfying,
came from Kevin as he pounded his fingers in her pussy. Faster,
quicker motions. Driving her crazy. And then…
Sweet release. The orgasm rocked
her body from head to toes. Even then, Kevin didn’t stop, only
slowing slightly, mouth open to catch her squirt.
He kissed his way back up to her
neck.
“
I love you,” said
Elsie.
“
Love you, too,” Kevin
said.
He gave her twenty-seven more
orgasms before dawn.
And then they lived happily ever
after.
THE “FUCKING” END
CREATURES OF
HABIT
1
The parlor smelled of lavender
flavored wax candles. Every table had at least one. Both end
tables, as well as the coffee table with one giant candle ten
inches in diameter. The curtains were wide open, but the outside
was too dark for the afternoon.
Katie sat, back to me, at the
piano. She was barefoot, in running shorts and a sports bra. A
water bottle on the carpet, and pages of sheet music.
She was focused on the same two
measures. I doubted she heard me come down the stairs. She woke me
up early, on accident, by leaving the bathroom light on before
slamming the screen door shut on her way to her daily mile run. I
laid awake for a long time, listening to the thunderclaps and the
gutters rattling in the windy violence. The storms rolled in later
this morning, washed away yesterday’s sticky humidity, and left
more rain clouds.
Now the chaotic rumblings seemed
far away, washed away by Katie’s practice. A creature of habit,
predictable as Sunday morning, beautiful as the steady
tap-tap
of notes she
played. The only lights were her candles and the soft glow of the
floor-lamp near the baby grand.
I stood in the double French doors,
hands in pockets, watching Katie practice ragtime music. Sweaty
hair clung to her bare shoulders, hiding her face. Her arms and
legs were muscular and well toned. She had an lovely hourglass
shape, one she worked at every day without fail, with curvy hips
and a tight body.
I tiptoed into the kitchen and put
on the coffee. The counters and cabinets were as organized as
everything Katie did, all the way down to the magnets on the fridge
and the three patterns in their own respective cupboards. She never
simply threw something into a drawer. Everything had a place, or it
didn’t belong anywhere.
I managed complete silence, pouring
the water slow and steady, betrayed only by the noisy coffee
machine sputtering to life.
The music stopped. Katie—once a
budding musician for a major orchestra—refused to practice with me
in a twenty foot radius. As if I couldn’t hear between the
floorboards.
Soft, pitter-patter of bare feet on
hardwood. The rustling of a robe being thrown on.
“
Morning, Tom” she
said.
“
Hey you,” I said, returning the
warm smile. “Just in time for coffee.”
“
Good.”
I poked my head into the fridge.
Dozen eggs, butter, wheat bread, left-over lasagna from a night
ago. Something was missing. I had no idea what.
When I turned around with the eggs
in hand, Katie was staring at me, lips pressed tight and eyes
narrow, hiding behind an empty coffee mug.
“
The usual?” I said.
“
Yes, please.”
I prepared a much too large omelet
with mushrooms, peppers, and bacon. She toasted bread. I tried hard
to remember what my brain couldn’t remember.
The more I thought, the fewer
quality ideas came into my head. A little something I didn’t
notice, or forgot, or dismissed. For certain, Katie would quiz me
on it later. Whatever “it” was.
“
Penny for your thoughts,” she
said, leaning her body against mine as I stirred the eggs. Strong
and skinny fingers pressed into my waist, massaging just below the
elastic band.
“
Might get a dozen thoughts for a
penny,” I said. “The way I’m going today.”
“
Oh?” Katie pressed her pelvis
against me, hands slipping down my thighs. The spatula slipped from
my grip. Hot breath tickled the back of my neck. “Is this
helping?”
“
Not at all.”
My cock responded to her touching.
The cotton fabric of my pajamas stretched. These eggs were going to
waste. I desperately wanted her to reach into my pants and stroke
me.
Instead, Katie kissed me on the
neck. Her hands explored my back, my chest, twisting a nipple on
the way to the shoulders.
The tingling in my body became a
warm flush. The room unbearable hot. I turned off the stovetop.
Only a cold shower would save me.
Eyes clenched shut. Breathing in
ragged gasps as Katie massaged me.
I fought the urge to turn around.
To take her. To force her to her knees.
That would end the sensations all
too soon.
I had all morning. All day,
actually.
“
Do you want me to stop?” she
whispered in my ear. Her tongue flitted across the lobe.
Words refused to form. So I shook
my head.
I was in her control. In the way
only she can control me.
Katie lifted my shirt. I pulled it
the rest of the way off my head.
She pressed against me, warm skin
on skin. My penis nearly popped the button on my pants.
Almost too much. I white-knuckle
gripped the stove handle. She kissed me on the shoulder. Down the
arm.
Fingers roaming. South.
Finding the drawstring. And finally
pulling my pajamas down.
The full length of my cock popped
out, at attention. The tip touched the warm metal of the
stove.
“
Please,” I said.
“
Eager, are we?”
“
Yes. Please.”
I stepped out of the pants. Naked
and turned around in front of my wife.
Seemed unfair.
But I didn’t want
control.
I wanted to be fucked.
She slipped off her robe. The
fabric rustled quietly when she tossed it aside.
Both her hands on my ass. One on
each cheek.
“
What do you desire?” she
whispered into my ear.
“
A blow job,” I said. “A nasty.
Sloppy blow.”
Katie grasped my elbow and turned
me around. A wicked smile colored her cheeks.
“
Good,” she cooed. “Thought you’d
never ask.”
A kiss on the lips. Pinch on both
nipples.
The sports-bra came off. And tossed
aside on top of the robe.
Both her nipples were erect. I
touched them, softly, not quite pinching. Katie clutched my
hands.
And went down on her
knees.
She kissed the tip. Hands on my
hips. She slid her wet tongue down my shaft.
I throbbed at the sensation. Eager
for more.
A kiss at the base. Katie fondled
my balls with lips and tongue. I gripped the edge of the stove, and
tilted my head back.
Another lick, this time back up the
shaft.
She swallowed me to the nub. My
cock pierced the back of her throat. She breathed through her nose,
slow, methodical. As if she were practicing yoga.
Katie’s teeth scratched me as she
released. Not enough to leave a mark. Enough to feel her loving
bite.
Another pass. Her saliva dripped
down my shaft, down my balls.
I bucked. My cock felt engorged.
Ready to pop.
She wrapped fingers around the base
and slapped my cock with her other hand.
“
Be a good boy,” she
said.
I moved my lips. Words didn’t come
out.
Katie just laughed. A womanly
chuckle.
She shook her head. Right before
clamped her teeth down on me again.
This time, using both hands and
mouth. One hand on my shaft. The other massaging my
sack.
The rhythm increased. Wet sucking
and pumping. More desperate. I was certainly desperate.
The pressure built up. More and
more. Sweat dripped down my back. My heart rate increased. My
breathing savage and ragged.
Katie squeezed and tugged my balls.
Milking me for all I was worth.
I dipped into a haze full of the
smell of my cock and her sweat.
My hips and legs went numb. My
penis ached. Every muscle in my body tensed.
Until finally I
exploded.
Just a squirt at first. And then a
stream. Into her hair. On her face. Only a little made it into her
mouth.
Katie kept sucking and scraping my
cock.