pop out between exercises.”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Maybe, not all at once,” I continued. “But that’s the only way we can see you.”
“And what was that comment about mail-order bride?”
I shook my head. “Poor word choice. We just thought, you know, like you order a woman and she comes to the hotel.”
“That’s called a prostitute.”
I furrowed my brow and looked off to the side. That word hurt. I would never think of Gwen that way. I looked back at her and said, “Yeah, but we thought of mail-order bride. A prostitute is just for a few hours. But a mail-order bride, you keep.”
She squeezed my hand. “Ah, that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.”
We laughed.
I gave her a kiss. “I’ve got to get back to the base. I’ll see you at the hotel?”
She nodded. “At two o’clock.”
Thursday morning was the longest morning in the history of time. I kept looking at my watch every two minutes though it felt like every two hours. Morning exercises were supposed to finish at noon, but they dragged on until one fifteen.
I raced back to the apartment, took a quick shower then raced to the hotel where Gwen would be waiting for me. The excitement, the thought of being with Gwen: I couldn’t fight off the erection. I entered the hotel lobby with my stiff cock bulging in my pants. The receptionist noticed. She glanced at my crotch before giving me the room number.
Gwen was staying on the second floor. I took the stairs; I couldn’t stand still and wait for the elevator.
I knocked on the door.
No answer.
I knocked again.
The door cracked open revealing only a sliver of Gwen who wore a long white gown that fell to her ankles. A shawl draped her shoulders and a thin veil obscured her face. “Yes,” she said, as if she didn’t recognize me.
I pushed open the door and barged in.
She took a step back and put up her hands defensively. “Who are you? What do you want?”
I played along. “It doesn’t matter who I am. What matters is what I want; and I want you.” I grabbed her hands and pulled her to me. I wrapped her in my arms, lifted her veil and embraced her long and hard.
She kissed me back, but eventually she put her hands on my chest and tried to push me away. “You must leave,” she said. “I’m here on business.”
I pulled the shawl from her shoulders and spun it into a tight rope shape. “I’m here on business, too: the business of fucking you.”
I pushed her onto the bed and jumped on top of her.
She tried to push me off, with no conviction. Gwen was strong. Even if she wasn’t able to push me off of her, she was certainly capable of making me understand she wanted me off. But her slaps and pushes were all play.
I grabbed her hands, pinned them behind her head and tied them together with the shawl. “So nice of you to bring something I could tie you up with.”
I tied the other end of the shawl to the headboard.
She buckled and thrashed and kicked. “I’ll scream,” she said.
I chuckled. “I know you will.” I unbuckled my belt and slipped it off. “That’s the point.”
“Help,” she said, but not loud.
I slapped her on the side with the belt. “Not yet. You’ll know when to scream.”
I jumped off the bed and pulled off my pants. My cock was hard and I was eager to plunge it into her.
I hiked up her dress and yanked off her panties. I tried to spread her legs, but she kicked me. So I whipped her again with the belt, not too hard, but not too lightly either.
“Owe,” she said.
I lifted her leg and pulled it to the side. I left my belt lying across her chest, and with my other hand I guided my cock against her pussy.
She wasn’t yet wet enough for me. I grabbed her legs and lifted her off the bed. I pulled her gown further up over her, set her legs down then pulled her gown over her head. It hid her hands, now, but nothing else.
Her body was gorgeous: firm breasts, hard nipples, flat stomach, legs spread wide.
I slid a hand around her hips and grabbed her ass. I laid myself on top of her, my chest pressed against her crotch. I kissed around her stomach; my tongue flicked her belly button. My left hand ran firmly up her side while my right ran