by Christina Stevens
My fiancé Thomas wanted to get married in Hawaii. It was his second marriage, you see. He’d already done the big wedding thing, where every relative and friend of his parents came and he drove up in an antique car and so on and so forth.
Yeah, the wedding was great. The marriage, not so much. They were divorced in two years. Then I came along. I’ve never been married. I’d love a big wedding. In fact I always pictured it, ever since I was a little girl. But he was not into it, so I didn’t push it.
A destination wedding. We’d invite our three or four closest friends. And that would be it. No parents. No nothing.
My mom was pissed.
“I’m not going to be at my own daughter’s wedding?”
“It’s just going to be us, Mom,” I said. “I’m sorry. That’s what he wants.”
“Yeah, well does he get everything he wants?” she asked.
“I don’t know, Mom. Let’s not fight about it. I’m sorry.”
So that was it. I was a bit depressed. Then I read somewhere online that brides to be who allow themselves one last fling before the wedding have a fifty percent lower divorce rate.
“So, how about that?” I asked Thomas. “We do the destination wedding. But we each get one last fling.”
“One last fling?” Thomas said. “You really want that? With who?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “It doesn’t matter who. It’s just, hey, I’m going to be faithful to you for seventy years. I should get it out of my system. Otherwise I might get resentful over the years.”
“Really?”
“Well, you tell me,” I said. “You were married. Did you resent the fact that you couldn’t sleep with anyone but your wife?”
“Yeah, maybe,” he admitted. “But that’s probably because my wife and I didn’t get along. But you and I get along great.”
“Oh, I’m sure you got along fine before the wedding,” I said.
My fiancé thought about it.
“Yeah, you’re probably right. Shit, so you and I, we’re not gonna get along after the wedding?”
“Of course we will. But you allow me one last fling. And you have one, too.”
“I don’t need to have one.”
“Well, get yourself a blow job from a prostitute or something then,” I said. “I don’t want to feel like I’m the only one.”
“And are you going to tell me about it?” he asked.
“Oh hell no,” I said. “It will be none of your business.”
“And just one time?”
“Yes, just once.”
“Alright,” he said. “I know you’re giving up a lot. I know you wanted a big wedding. If that’s what you want, then…”
He gave me a big kiss. And then I felt so good. I had been granted permission.
I already knew who I wanted to sleep with. It was a guy who I had met on Tinder the week before I hooked up with Thomas. And every now and then he still texted me. He was super hot. I had only had one date with him. And I just kissed him once, good night. As it happened, I hooked up with Thomas the next weekend and that was it.
Only I often wondered about Duane.
Duane was African-American, and very sweet. I had been with a black guy only once before, and it definitely had been fun in bed. But aside from that, the guy was not a good boyfriend. He cheated on me and I broke up with him.
But this guy Duane was nice. He was trying to break into the music field. He often invited me to his shows where he DJ’d. I had never gone. But this week, he had already texted me about a show this Friday night at a club downtown.
“I’ll be there,” I texted him.
I told Thomas that I was going to go see a movie with my girlfriend Amber and that I would be home late.
“You’re really dressing up for a movie,” he said, suspiciously, when I came out of the bathroom with my makeup on and wearing my little black dress.
“What, I want to look nice. We’re going to meet a bunch of old friends after for drinks.”
“Really?” he said. “Well, have fun.”
I felt guilty. I did look hot. The dress was short. My legs are pretty sexy, let’s admit it. Some people are born with great legs. Others get unbelievable breasts. I would say God focussed on my legs when he made me. They are perfectly smooth and shapely. I looked fucking hot in a tiny black dress. As soon as Duane saw me he was going to want to get with me. But I had lied to Thomas and now I was having a smidge of guilt.
But I decided to just show up and feel it out at least. I was going to Hawaii in a week. This was it for me. It was now or never. And till death do us part is a long fricking time.
I got to the club. It was a night with about five different DJs and Duane wasn’t on yet. I saw him over by the bar and went over.
“Hey, you made it, Jessica!” he smiled. “And you’re looking fine, girl! What’s going on?”
We made some small talk, as much as you can in a loud club. I drank a couple of martinis for courage and I asked him if he wanted to dance. He looked at me, surprised.
“Um, aren’t you…”
“Yeah, but don’t worry about it,” I said, and I grabbed his hand.
We danced for a few songs. Each song we danced a little closer, and by the third song we were grinding each other’s bodies. I was getting very turned on. Duane was a great dancer.
“Jessica,” he said after. “Didn’t you tell me you were engaged? What happened?”
“Nothing happened,” I said. “We’re getting married next week.”
“OK,” he said. He looked a little mad. “So, what…are you getting cold feet?”
“No!” I assured him. “I just wanted to see you… you know…while I still could. You know…before I was legally married.”
He smiled then.
“Oh I get it!” he said. “Alright, alright.”
He went up and did his DJ set for about 45 minutes. The last song he played was a remix of Barry White’s Never Gonna Give You Up.
“Shout out to Jessica for this one. Girl, you think I’m gonna give you up? Never!”
I made eye contact with him there in the booth while the song played. He was looking at me so vulnerably, and I had the notion that he felt real feelings for me. That wasn’t good. It would be mean of me to fuck him if he had real feelings for me, wouldn’t it? I was torn.
“Do you want to dance some more?” he asked me when his DJ shift was done and he rejoined me at the bar.
“Um, not really,” I said. “Do you wanna get out of here?”
“Sure,” he said. “We can go back to my apartment if you want?”
“Yeah, that’s what I want,” I said.
We took the subway to Queens. On the way there we held hands and he talked to me about his dreams of becoming a music producer and so on.
We were quiet a while and then he looked me in the eyes.
“So this is about…what might have been?” he said after a while.
“Yeah,” I agreed. “I like that. What might have been.”
“Well, what if what-might-have-been turns out to be better than what is?”
That was a good question.
“I don’t know,” I said. And I put my mouth on his there in the subway and I kissed him.
“I remember you were a pretty good kisser,” I said.
“Girl! You’re the good kisser!”
We went in for another kiss. I’m sure everybody in the train was thinking, get a room. Yeah, we were that couple. I was getting pretty aroused.
Alright, I said in my mind. Let’s do this.
He had a little apartment over a bakery. It was nice. When we got inside, we didn’t waste much time. Being a DJ, Duane had a sexy playlist all set up.
“This is my get down list,” he said, pressing a button on his phone, and a pounding rhythm came on his bluetooth speakers. Beyonce came on, singing in a high pitch, “Oooooh…love to love you baby.”
“I love to love you, baby,” said Duane, and he came over and put his forehead against mine. We started gyrating back and forth to the music. This was good. I could definitely get married and be faithful to one man after this night, I thought. Because we’re here in his apartment. The lights are down low. And the music is thumping. And we’re moving together like we’re connected by some invisible force.
The song segued into Ciara speaking in a sexy voice over a beat. “Let’s have fun. Hope you’re having fun, too.”
And then, right on cue, he slipped my dress off just as Ciara broke into the words… “My body…is your party.”
I laughed.
“You like this party?” I asked.
I was standing there in front of him, no longer in my little black dress. I was in a black push up bra, and black panties. He took me by the shoulders.
“I like it a lot,” he said. “This is a great party.”
He kissed my neck, and he kissed my shoulders. And in the meantime, he unhooked my bra. Now my breasts were exposed. He kissed his way down toward my nipples. The song changed. Justin Timberlake, I think it was. He was singing, “Babe…you know what you want…and that makes you just like me.”
It was uncanny. I was looking at his body, and he was looking at mine, and we both wanted the same thing. Justin said it so well. To a pounding rhythm. Our bodies were still bouncing subtly in time to the beat. And now he was kissing my nipples. I was grabbing his rippling biceps. I pulled his shirt off and starting kissing his shoulders now. And kissing his pecs. He was extremely fit. It was like being with a world class athlete. He reached up and hit a switch. And suddenly some red and green lights started flashing in the room. He had his own light show! And then…the song switched again. It was Kanye’s song Flashing Lights. “She don’t believe in shooting stars,” sang Kanye. But all around me the lights were exploding, as Duane sucked my tits. It felt like I was on drugs. It was like getting it on inside a planetarium. And this super hot guy was worshiping my body. I felt like we were weightless, floating in some kind of orbit around each other.
Then Usher came on the speakers, singing in his beautiful voice over what seemed like the same pounding rhythm, “I got a real real pretty little thing, that’s waiting for me.”
And Duane finally put his hands where I wanted him to put them, on my ass, and down my panties. He started stroking my clit under my panties. Meanwhile, I undid his belt and his trousers fell down. I put my hand on a very large hard-on in his briefs. Damn…this last fling was going to be a mind blower. I was scared now — I could tell he was going to blow my mind when he put that thing in me. It was going to be too good — I knew it was. And then I would never be able to marry Thomas. Shit, his dick was like four inches bigger than Thomas’s, and more importantly, about three inches thicker. And it was going to be in me. I pulled it out of his briefs and I started stroking it.
“You like that baby?” he asked.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “I’d like to have that in me.”
“I’d like to give it to you. Let’s go over to the couch.”
We went over to the couch. I lay down. He pulled my panties off. Now I was naked before a beautiful naked man. We looked at each other so greedily. A slow beat was playing on the speakers now. I didn’t know the song. But a woman with a pretty sexy voice was singing, “I like the way you rise up!”
I looked at his cock.
It had really risen. It was aiming straight at the ceiling.
“Oh my god,” I said. “I don’t think I’ve ever felt so…turned on…”
“I’m turned on too baby,” he said. “Lookin’ at your sweet pussy there. That is one sweet looking pussy. You gonna give it to me?”
“Just for tonight,” I said. “It’s yours for one night only. And then…it’s my husband’s for life.”
“I better enjoy it then,” he said. “I guess I better take a good long look at it. I’m never gonna see it again after tonight. I’m gonna enjoy this fine sight.”
He looked me up and down. I gathered he was enjoying my naked body. I don’t know why, I liked the way he looked at me so much that I put my hand down there and I started rubbing my clit.
“Oh yeah,” he said. “Get that thing ready for me. Get it nice and wet so this giant can slide right in. Is it nice and wet?”
“Mmmmhmmm,” I moaned. And then I felt myself cumming, right there, by my own hand, before he had even done anything to me.
“Oh God, you make me so horny,” I said. “Come on and fuck me.”
“Nah, nah,” he said. “Not yet, not yet.”
He was listening to the song. I got it then. He was waiting for the next musical change. And then he was going to fuck me, at last.
“Oh god,” I said. “I want you to fuck me so bad.” I was rubbing myself again. “Please fuck me baby,” I said.
I made myself cum again. My body was shuddering and I lifted my ass up off the couch and showed him an even more intimate view of my pussy. And he was rubbing his huge cock now, too. Waiting for the right moment. And then it came, at last. I knew the song. It was by Ginuwine. “I’m just a bachelor I’m looking for a partner, someone who knows how to ride without even falling off.”
Duane lifted me up then, and he took my place on the couch. I was on top of him. This, I realized, was entirely because of the words of the song. I sat down slowly on that big cock. I was glad he was letting me do it. If he just started ramming that thing in me, I would have been afraid. But I was in control. I was slowly, slowly descending down its entire length, until he was all the way in me. Then I started riding it.
If you’re horny, let’s do it Ride it, my pony, My saddle’s waiting, Come and jump on it.
Oh my god what a ride he gave me. He didn’t just lie back on the couch. No, he very energetically thrust upwards with each of my bucks, so we were kind of flying up and down like a real rodeo ride. But it pleasured me like I had never felt pleasured before. It was like tearing a whole new sensation into my pussy. Deep into my pussy. I had feelings deep in the folds I had never felt before. I didn’t even know if I was cumming or what it was. Something was happening, I was screaming. The music was loud enough I could really let myself go. I screamed my head off. And the lights kept flashing and exploding. And he fucked me so good, so good…
Then I was exhausted. I climbed off him, and as though reading his thoughts, I got on all fours on the floor. He came behind me and mounted me. The song was now an R & B jam I didn’t recognize. But I heard the female singer sing, “Take my body now, it’s so ripe.” And I thought, oh yes, it’s ripe. My ass was like a ripe apple there, waiting for him. He grabbed it and he put his dick in me from behind and started railing me. “Take my body now it’s so ripe,” she repeated. “Baby we can go all night!”
Suddenly I panicked. We can’t go all night, I realized. Thomas was going to expect me back from the movies before midnight. I had no idea what time it was. I had lost track of the hours. I had let myself go wondering into this trippy space in his room. And now he was fucking me hard from behind. He must have sensed my anxiety.
“What’s wrong baby?” he asked.
“What time is it?” I asked him. “I gotta be home before midnight.”
“What are you gonna turn into a pumpkin,” he laughed. And that put me at ease. He told me it was only 11.
“Come on,” he said. “This is my time. That boyfriend of yours, he’s got you forever. You just got me for one half an hour more. So be with me now.”
That put my mind at rest. I lay down on the couch. He came on top of me. He started kissing me deeply on the mouth. So lovingly. I loved the way he took care of me. He put me in such a relaxed place. And the music, of course. The music was unbelievable. “I’m feeling myself, I’m feeling myself,” sang Nicky Minaj. And a spacey synthesizer played up and down the scale. “I’m feeling myself, I’m feeling myself.”
I was really feeling myself now. I went ahead and started rubbing my clit as he put his thing in me. And I felt something rising up in me as Nicky went through her sassy rap story. I felt some of her power come into me. I was gonna get married, yeah, but I was gonna take care of myself first. I was feeling myself then I was feeling another thundering orgasm.
“I wanna pull the condom off,” he said then.
“Why, so I can give my white husband a brown baby nine months after our wedding?” I asked.
“Let me pull the condom off, Jessica,” he said. “Since it’s only gonna be this one time. I want to feel you skin to skin. Come on.”
“But don’t you dare cum in me!” I said.
He pulled the condom off and he lay side to side with me on the couch. We fucked some more. The tune was totally different now. Now it was an 80s synth rock beat, Avalon by Roxy Music. It was a welcome change from all the hip hop beat. “Much communication in a motion, without conversation or a notion….Avalon.”
I turned to him and we deeply French kissed as he built up towards his climax.
“Yeah baby?” I asked him. “Are you gonna cum? Are you gonna cum?”
“Ahhhh!” he screamed. At the last moment he pulled out and came on my belly and my tits, with a big growl and a howl.
“Avalon,” sang Brian Ferry. And then…OMG.
I fell asleep.
What the fuck!
I woke up and looked out the window. It was light out. I was there on the couch underneath him. It had simply been too much for me. He had fucked me right out of consciousness and fucked me to sleep.
“Oh shit!” I said.
I ran to my phone and saw all the texts.
“Jessica, where the fuck are you? I already spoke to Amber and she told me you didn’t go to the movies together. This is not cool.”
‘Sorry Thomas,” I texted. “I fell asleep at my friend’s house. On way home now. So sorry.”
Then I made the sad emoji face.
Shit.
Duane didn't really wake up to say goodbye, he was bleary-eyed.
“I gotta go,” I said.
“OK,” he said. “That was…incredible.”
Then he closed his eyes again.
I threw my black dress on and ran out of there into an Uber.
Of course, when I got home Thomas and I had a huge fight. I didn’t tell him where I’d been. It was none of his business. We had an agreement. But still..
I had to be humble and sorry about not texting him. He was worried. Very worried.
After a few days of hardly speaking, I asked him, “Well, how’s our destination wedding going?”
“I don’t know, Jess,” he said. “I just don’t know.”
“Well, it was your idea, don’t forget. You wanted a destination wedding. You made a deal with me.”
“And you fucked somebody, didn't you. Who did you fuck!”
“I’m not going to answer that question, Thomas,” I said. “You have to work this out. You made a deal. Are you going back on your deal? Well, then I’m going back on mine. Forget about a destination wedding. If you want to marry me, my mom is ready to plan a big fucking wedding in Toledo. There will be 400 relatives at the country club. There will be an announcement in the Toledo Courier Express. And…”
“Alright, alright,” he said. “I get it. I get it. But…come here…”
He kissed me.
“I’m just jealous,” he said. “Just tell me. Was he better than me?”
“Better than you?” I said, wide-eyed. “If he was better than you why would I want to fly to Hawaii to marry you?”
“So it wasn’t that good?” he asked.
I shook my head.
“Nothing like what you and I have,” I said. “Nothing.”
And that sentence was true. It was nothing like sex with Thomas.
“Nothing at all,” I promised him. And I took him into the bedroom and we made love tenderly. There was no music. There was no light show. There was no incredible tension and greedy looks of lust at one another. There were just two human beings about to embark on a terrifying journey together — to Hawaii, and beyond!
“Feeling myself,” I heard somewhere in my head, as we made love in the missionary position. “Feeling myself…”
There were lots of different ways to feel myself, I realized. And they were all good.
I loved Thomas. And I didn’t need a big church wedding and a banquet and salmon and wedding cake and throwing the bouquet. All I needed was Thomas.
In my heart of hearts, I was ready now to be his wife.
This story is part of the series: One Last Hook Up: Four Fiancés Enjoy a Final Fling available on Kindle.
