His plentiful sexual insistence wasn’t a concern. Her propensity to cave in was more daunting.
The opportunity arose for her to climb on the bed as he rolled on his side. She swept half of his blanket toward him and dawdled onto the mattress.
The tiles had a cloudy color pattern, the table's shadow looked like a spider, and the ceiling had a rough texture to it—those were things she noticed before forcing her eyes shut.
If Oliver was angry at her for mentioning the past again, did that mean they were no longer together? Woolgathering, she opened her eyes and turned to her husband. With his jaw sinking and his mouth slobbering, she wouldn’t have found anyone attractive until she discovered gentlemanly details: his squared jaw, his deep brow ridge, the crease on his chin, his broad shoulders, that sexy dent between his clavicles.
She didn’t want to break-up.
Before her fingers touched his shoulder he smiled.
“I knew you’d come to bed.”
Taken aback, her hand retreated. She lifted her torso on her elbow.
“I like you, Ollie.” She hid under the blanket and rolled into a ball. The sponge underneath her sank beside her and a force withdrew the fabric off her face.
Oliver’s eyes hovered above her.
“I like you, too, pudding, but why are you hiding?”
Pudica noticed her scalding cheeks. She sat up on the bed.
“I’ve never said it to anyone. It’s embarrassing. Even more so because I’m a girl talking to a—” she said, playing with the edge of her collar.
“A what?” He scooted closer, gazing at her lips.
Her eyes drooped in enchantment. “A man.”
“So?” His fingers brushed her hair behind her ears.
“I dread looking childish and ignorant.” She broke the connection. “You must expect more from me. I want to be a woman, I do, but sometimes I can’t control my impulses.”
“Pudica, expressing your genuine feelings doesn’t make you a girl, it makes you a woman. Don’t stay silent. Tell me what you want.”
She looked as if God had dropped all charges against her. This man let her speak her mind. But that was profane according to her mother, who taught her to shroud the depraved wish to have a boyfriend.
“Kiss me,” she told the truth.
Oliver met her request by planting a kiss on her lips, then another, until she trapped his jaw. He accommodated himself while stroking the side of her rib cage.
“Sorry, I forgot about your stitches.” He glanced at where he had touched.
“They’re on the opposite side,” she said, finding the action adorable.
Like an addict, he devoured her lips. His hand trailed down her lower back and made its way to her thigh. Intrusive thoughts nudged her to get to know his body. So she kept her eyes open as he leeched down her neck. With each suction, his grip tightened and his hand came closer to her inner thigh. She automatically spread her knees. She threw her head backward as the fabric of her shirt crumpled over her bra.
That had been more than a kiss. The whiplash on her chest unfurled through her core. Her conscience commanded her to stop sinning. And she would have if it weren’t for the oddity luring her to sin.
Hairs raised while he unhooked her bra and freed her breasts. No one else had seen them but her. It felt great when she touched them, but this—his lips so suddenly encasing her nipple—had to be the most relieving delight.
She observed his predacious countenance as he enjoyed sucking and letting her soft globe bounce into place.
It was too carnal.
Pudica sprang out of bed, endeavoring to unroll her shirt over her breasts. But her clothes disappeared. Only her panties remained on her body.
He had seen her privates, the fat around her abdomen, the pubes on her bikini line, and the stretch marks on her thighs! Even more disgusting she had let him disrobe her like a whore.
“Hey, pudding, it’s fine.” Oliver approached her with his hand forward.
“I’m scared,” she said. “Why is it so hard to be a principled person?”
“You are a principled person. Come here.” His arms protected her from the environment. The night hid his nakedness, then his protuberance rubbed against her leg. She pulled her hips away. However, as she sought his heartbeat, she surrendered to his chest.
“I would never hurt you, pudding,” he added.
“I know I’m safe around you, Ollie,” she said.
“You can tell me anything, remember?”
Her worries clambered through her brain. They would likely obstruct her throat, but she had to try.
“We’re not married,” she blurted. “That paper means nothing if I forced you to sign it. Mami said, sex outside the marriage is a ticket to hell. Maybe you understand since your parents were Christian missionaries.”
“My parents weren’t that way,” he said. “I was a kid when they died, but they always preached about acceptance and forgiveness.”
Oliver and Pudica stood face to face. Their nudity had become inconsequential.
“Look, I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting your mom. I guarantee, her religious beliefs did you more harm than good. Most Christians welcome anyone without judgement. She used religion to control you.”
Oliver said out loud the thing picking at the back of Pudica’s head. Mami was undoubtedly strict though she wasn’t capable of keeping her from friendships or having fun on purpose.
“You say that because you only know the negatives. She was a sweet woman most of the time; always so generous. A lot of neighbors didn’t like her. We caught their rude whispers. They said she judged them when she was just trying to help them.”
His squinting narrowed, and he rubbed her shoulders. “However you see it doesn’t mean we’re not married. I’m not talking about a document.” He sat on the bed. “Pudding, I did something.”
“Huh?” She wondered if he might have changed the subject.
“At the courthouse, the security guard told me the judge allowed filing for divorce online. I didn’t mention it to you because, well, I don’t want a divorce.”
Pudica let all air out of her lungs and dropped her shoulders. He had manipulated her into staying married but it didn’t upset her.
“See? I like being your husband,” he said. “It’s a real marriage only if you like being my wife.”
“We’ve had a couple fights and we haven’t gone on a date. But one could say buying chocolate and running from the mafia was an adventure,” she said.
“What do you say?”
“I like being your wife.”
They smiled at each other. A shadow cast over his eyes and he pulled her closer. She was nervous again. Her breasts were close to his face. He kissed right on the center of her chest and his tongue snailed down to her left breast. He guzzled her nipple to where it almost hurt, but it was always pleasurable.
His fingers lowered her panties gradually. The fabric rubbing down her thighs enhanced the goosebumps on her skin. He turned her torso and laid her across the bed. As the moon shined on his rigid member, she realized she let him take control of her.
“Are you cold?” He leaned over her shivering body.
Her head motioned side to side.
“As much as I crave you, you’re not ready for this.” He pressed his penis onto her abdomen and kissed her lips until she stopped vibrating.
“What do I do?” she said with utmost innocence.
The man lifted her knees and lowered his face between her legs. She gasped. His nose was way too close to her juices.
“Relax, pudding.” Her husband pushed her thighs up to her sides, giving him a full view of her vagina.
Pudica interlaced her fingers tightly over her belly and shut her eyelids. Someone had touched her, watched her, smelled her, and listened to her moans.
Marriage hadn’t registered in her mind. She had no wedding or a ring on her finger. Her mother disapproved. Yet she preferred this moment.
All distress left her body and her spine stretched as his lips attached to her clitoris. His tongue moistened and danced against the area in a continuous pattern. It was an unknown action, but she recognized what to do. Her hands gripped the fitted sheet, her toes pointed down, and her hips rotated upward. The combination of his chin, mouth, and nose buffing with his saliva pushed her spine higher.
“Ollie.” Quick breaths shortened. The slashing nearing maximum intensity. Her limbs and belly turned rigid. She quaked without interruptions until she fell weak and she no longer moved.
“You’re boiling hot, pudding.” Oliver licked from her abdomen to the center of her chest.
Rosy blotches developed on her face, smelling her scent on his lips. Somehow he made it erotic by spreading her juices on her lips.
“You’re delicious,” he said, smooching her jaw with force.
Though unable to say much, Pudica threw her arms around his neck, kneading all the muscles she had yearned to touch.
She stalled his head at his anguished rod. “Should I be doing something?”
He grinned. “Keep that pure look for me.”
Oliver’s torso levitated over Pudica. He was glad she could not read his mind because his wicked desires would have frightened her. He wasn’t into kinky sex, but there was a virgin underneath him. Something about him being her first experience awakened the animal inside him. One day he would mark her insides and officially make her his forever. He had heard virgins become attached to their lovers and fall for them quickly.
Oh, how he longed for the day a beautiful woman clung to him to where she could not live without him. Staring into his wife’s eyes, he vowed himself to protect her and be good to her so she never thought of leaving his side.
He could not wedge his shaft into her dense hairy pussy, but would still take pleasure in tasting it. She was perfectly pink. The way her hood guarded her clit showed she didn’t play much with it. Those contracting muscles as she heaved yielding her power made him harder than before.
And now she was self-conscious of orgasming in his presence. Her expression told him she was a good christian girl, but she also liked it. It was too prurient to ignore.
With his right hand, he gripped his manhood and began jacking off. He moaned, watching her eyes enlarge with thirst. In his mind, he was inside her.
“Fuck.” He hovered his pistol over her belly and pumped it faster. His torso contorted and his eyes rolled to white. Semen darted onto her chest, creating tributaries as he plunged on her.
Cuddling all night was wonderful. Oliver’s arms covering Pudica was like a warm protective barrier. Their legs braided stopped them from separating, and they were to be in that position for the rest of their existence; unless a catalyst said otherwise.
They woke up to loud gasps of horror. Both Pudica and Oliver hid beneath a shared blanket. Aunt Betsy was frolicking, fluttering her forearms over her face.