July 22, 2013
Well, I missed the deadline for the RFW Honeymoon Challenge. I just couldn't stand that I did not post for this, especially since I had over a month to come up with the story, and others had vacation plans and still posted also. I hate letting people down. Hopefully RFW participants will forgive the late posting.
My excerpt titled Hangover Honeymoon is way over word count at 1150, and unedited. Sorry, I was trying to meet the linky deadline.
“Sanders Party,” Justin told the Maitre ‘d.
“Congratulations on your nuptials”, the man said stiffly. “Your reservation was for a party of six.”
Justin turned up the charm and handed over a twenty as his father in law suggested. “Our party has grown over the last month.”
The Maitre ‘d grunted his disapproval and the $20 disappeared with a slight-of-hand motion. He checked off their names on his list, grabbed eight menus and hurried off into the dark restaurant.
Justin offered Valerie his arm, then motioned to his black clad grooms’ men to do the same. They were led to a table large enough to seat ten, surrounded by patrons clad in the same red and black colors. Justin pulled out the chair for Valerie and kissed her exposed neck. Ten years and three kids together, but today, kissing her was sweeter than any other, even the first electrifying one that set them on the inevitable journey to the wedding chapel.
Grace stood stiffly in front of her chair, glaring at Aaron as he slumped into his chair.
“Come on you two, kiss and make up. You know you still love each other.” Valerie couldn’t stand to see her friends fighting, especially on her own wedding day.
“Oops,” Aaron said, but before he could get up, Grace moved to an empty chair two seats over.
The Maitre ‘d returned with complimentary bottle of Champaign, a cocktail waitress close on his heels. He popped the cork with a practiced tug and poured a small taste in the two special glasses.
“Very good,” Justin croaked when he finished his sample.
He covered his nose, hoping not to sneeze on the man’s sleeve as he filled the glasses. Valerie burped loudly, breaking the tension of the Maitre ‘d stiff attitude and the bad vibes wafting off Aaron and Grace. Mandy and Kevin nearly fell out of their chairs laughing.
Valerie passed her glass of Champaign to Grace as the waitress and Maitre ‘d both hurried off. Kevin snagged the bottle, took a generous swallow, then tipped it to Mandy’s lips. They’d been married for three years and still acted like they were on their honeymoon. Valerie attributed their blissful attitude to the fact they had no kids yet. She just hoped she and Justin were as happily married three years from now.
The drinks arrived while everyone was still looking over the pricy menu. Noting the anxious looks of her friends, Valerie reached into Justin’s jacket pocket and pulled out the reloadable debit card her dad gave her as he and her step mother packed off the kids and said their goodbyes.
“No penny-pinching at the wedding,” she announced.
“To Mr. and Mrs. Justin Sanders,” Kevin toasted, standing up with his glass. Everyone, including Grace, stood and leaned in to clink various glasses and bottles.
Justin remained standing when everyone sat down, tears rolling down his reddened cheeks. He lifted his glass again. “Guys – and ladies,” he began, clearing his throat and wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “Thanks for standing up for me, and my wife – gads my wife,” and he leaned down again to kiss Valerie again.
“Ah,” accompanied flashes and he stumbled at the empty air as Valerie pulled away and yelled at someone holding an expensive camera.
“We’re real tired of pictures,” Aaron said, rescuing the couple from another photo opportunity with a price tag.
“Anyway,” Justin resumed when the unwanted attention finally took its offended leave.
“Let’s have another round.”
“Well, here’s to you,” Justin gushed, then downed his beer in one gulp.
Valerie dabbed his eyes with her napkin when he sat down, and he noticed her eyes were shiny with the same feelings his friends wouldn’t let him express.
The blissful couple lost track of the conversation, and the number of rounds of toasts. They both noted when Aaron and Grace closed the distance between them, and were the first to leave the dinner. The others left as the restaurant was closing, all tossing a wad of cash on the table, which the wedding couple left for a tip.
The elevator stopped on their floor, and as they helped each other stay upright for the last leg of the journey to the end of the corridor, Valerie suddenly stopped.
“Shhh. You hear that.”
“Exactly,” she agreed.
“OMG, do you have a key,” he asked as they neared the door. It had not been closed for the three days they’d occupied the room. There was so much traffic they’d slid the bolt over so the door wouldn’t close.
“I didn’t bring my purse, remember. You’ve got my ID and that’s all I needed.”
They both patted Justin, giggling as pockets were turned out and intimate places unnecessarily rubbed. “Ah, here it is.”
The room was a disaster, both queen beds littered with bottles, glasses, wrappers and other things in various states of emptiness. Clothes, ashtrays, cigarettes, and coolers lined the floors, dresser and bed tables.
“Its empty,” Justin marveled.
“Wow,” Valerie agreed.
She looked around dazedly. He knew what she was thinking, but even as she started to pick up an empty plastic bag he tapped her fingers until she dropped it.
“I’ll clear one of the beds. Let housekeeping decide what to do with the rest.”
He kissed away her “but,” his talented fingers finding the zipper to her dress.
The throb in his pants was from more than his growing desire as he caressed her naked breasts and shoulders. “I gotta pee.”
She laughed, shoving him past the closet door to the bathroom.
“I’m not that drunk,” he complained, but admitting to himself he had almost opened the closet door before she intervened. A drunken habit.
He blew her another kiss as she bent over to roll the spanks down, her ample boobs rubbing her thighs.
“Like the view,” she teased, looking back to catch him staring.
“Yeah, I do.” Justin loved her ass; a little too flabby, not the tight butt and slender hips she had when they first dated. She said they came with the kids, and since they were all his, he couldn’t complain about the minor change.
“Go pee,” she reminded him.
He unzipped and started stripping as soon as his bladder was empty, stroking himself to regain his erection. When he returned to the room, she had stripped one of the beds of its littered coverlet and was fast asleep under the sheet. He stared at her silhouette for a while, wondering how long it’d been since they spent an entire night naked and alone.
“Hangover sex is better anyway,” he told himself.
He turned to the door, insuring the “do not disturb” sign was outside and the deadbolt firmly latched from the inside before climbing into bed beside his wife on their wedding night. They still had a week left on the honeymoon.
July 22, 2013