Ron and Bridgette part two: The Honeymoon
by Sean Porter
* * * * * * *
Ron blinked and opened one eye slowly. Bright sunlight flooded the hotel room and a warm breeze was wafting in through the open window, carrying with it the soft chirping of birds and the soothing lull of ocean waves crashing against a pristine beach.
He smiled and closed the eye again, sinking deeper into the
fluffy pillow. It doesn't get any
better than this, he decided. On honeymoon in
He lazily rolled over, reaching across the bed with the intent to drape his arm over the curve of her narrow waist, let his fingers stroke the smooth ripples of her sculpted abdominal muscles...
Instead, all his fingers stroked were the wrinkled sheets. He moaned into his pillow. "Yeruffahehy?"
From the kitchen her cheery voice carried back to him, "What was that hun?"
With effort, he turned his head enough to speak clearly. "You're up already?"
"Breakfast is ready," she called sweetly. "Come and get it."
As usual, there was enough of a degree of playful flirting in her voice to get his blood flowing a little faster. He swung his legs onto the floor, glancing at the clock. 9:35? Why should he have to get up so early? This was supposed to be a vacation.
Finding his way into the small kitchenette which was conveniently built into a corner of the spacious honeymoon suite, Ron looked at his wife and decided that was why. She was at the stove, spooning a giant pan of scrambled eggs onto two plates which already held toast and bacon. She was wearing a T-shirt cut off above the midriff and a cute pair of pink boy short panties which tightly hugged the rounded upper halves of her perfect ass. Her long legs were exquisitely toned, her small feet bare on the tile floor. When she turned toward him, holding the two full plates, her face wore an inviting smile. Printed across her T-shirt in bold letters, over the substantial swell of her breasts, was the phrase, "STOP STARING AT MY TITS." Just above it, in red lipstick, Bridgette had scrawled, "DON'T." The fabric was cut so short the bottoms of some of the lower letters were missing, and the enticing curves of the bottoms of her breasts were just barely visible. The overall effect of the vision before him was stunning, and Ron stared slack-jawed for a moment.
Bridgette received his gaze patiently, even gratefully, then slid onto a stool next to the island countertop and set the plates down. "Have some breakfast," she prodded him, "and try not to drool on the floor."
They watched each other eat, enjoying the meal mostly in silence. Ron couldn't remember the last time he'd eaten such a delicious breakfast. Bridgette's eyes glinted with pleasure as she watched him eagerly scarf down the food. "How long have you been up?" Ron asked between bites.
"A couple hours," Bridgette replied vaguely, chewing. "I'm not much of a one for sleeping in."
Ron nodded, eagerly finishing the last of his eggs. "Good," he mumbled, gesturing to the empty plate with his fork.
Bridgette watched him swallow the last bite, her large eyes unblinking. She let out a yawn, stretching her arms up and arching her back until the lower halves of her impressively pert breasts were entirely visible, her stiff nipples almost poking out from beneath her cut-off shirt. Seeing Ron lean forward as if hypnotized, she smiled and twisted her body towards him. Nothing turned her on more than seeing that look in his eyes, the rapt gaze that meant he was hooked on her like a drug. She loved knowing that her firm, young body and spectacular strength were the fulfillment of his every fantasy, his dream come true. She took great pleasure in meeting and exceeding his deepest desires and wildest wishes. Every crazy, outrageous, impossible thing he wanted a woman to be, or do, or say, she wanted to be that and more for him.
She had already expressed this to him several times, trying to open his mind to the possibilities and encourage him to take full advantage, but here on their honeymoon was where it would really begin.
* * * * * * *
The wedding had been nice enough...the church was beautifully decorated with more flowers than Ron had ever seen in one place before, the guests were cheery and well-dressed, the groomsmen were handsome and the bridesmaids quite pretty, but when Bridgette walked up the aisle, everything else dimmed in Ron's eyes. Of course, not many of the others in the room could take their eyes off of her either. She was glorious in her long, white gown, her hair curled and pinned beautifully up, her angelic face enhance by only a touch of makeup. She had chosen a traditional dress, not wanting to look too daring or showy, but made sure to select a sleeveless gown so that Ron could spend the whole ceremony stealing glances at her well-defined biceps, his mind racing with thoughts of what they could do.
They did their best to enjoy the reception, but it was hard to smile and thank all their distant relatives for coming, cut the cake, and pose for pictures when all they really wanted to do was sneak out to the car and head for their honeymoon suite at 90 mph, perhaps making a quick stop along the way to relieve the considerable tension that had been building up in both their bodies all day long.
But as it was, they didn't escape until after ten o'clock. Both exhausted from the day, they managed only to make it back to their apartment, vowing to get an early start the next morning. Bridgette regretted that their wedding night couldn't be more romantic, but they both knew that there would be plenty of time to sate their urges soon enough.
The next day, their first as a married couple, her thought proved to be true as they spent most of the morning in bed, playfully exploring and pleasing each others' bodies. For several hours without stopping, their enjoyment ranged from gentle kissing and touching to urgent, savage fucking and everything in between as they reveled in the sheer pleasure of belonging completely to each other. Bridgette was impressed with Ron's stamina as he kept wanting more of her after the second, third, and even fourth time shooting his load into her willing body, but he insisted it was only because she was so damn sexy that he couldn't keep his hands off her. She quickly lost count of her own climaxes as Ron's eager hands, tongue, and tireless cock sent her well into the double digits.
They finally hit the road after a quick lunch, and pulled into their destination late that night. They were once again exhausted, but so excited to be on their honeymoon that they couldn't resist one more quickie before bed. Two hours later, sticky with sweat and utterly content, they slept.
* * * * * * *
Bridgette smiled fondly as she recollected the enjoyable events of their marriage thus far, but a moment later, her thoughts were squarely back in the present. As tender and satisfying as yesterday had been, there hadn't been much experimentation or creativity, and in her mind that was what their honeymoon, and hopefully the rest of their lives, would be all about. She hadn't had any chance to show off her strength for her husband since they had gotten married, and her muscles seemed to be just itching for an opportunity.
From the ceiling above the counter where they were sitting there hung a rack of pots and pans. For a person standing at the stove they would have been just above eye level, perfect for a cook to grab as the need arose. For Bridgette, the rack was perfect for a slightly different purpose. It was comprised of a metal bar secured to the ceiling by two chains. She wasn't sure how much weight it could support, but it looked sturdy enough.
With Ron staring at her, his mouth still half full of eggs, she swung her ass up onto the edge of the counter and scooted over, carelessly pushing his plate off onto the floor and sitting in front of him. Her long legs dangling on either side of him, she unceremoniously peeled off her tight T-shirt, granting him the full, glorious view of her perfect breasts. It was a sight he had seen a dozen times in the last 24 hours alone, but their firm, round shape and hard, succulent nipples were just as amazing to behold as ever. Leaning forward, she grabbed his shirt as well and yanked it up over his head.
Now that they were both topless, Bridgette leaned back with a lecherous grin. Reaching up to grasp the bar above her head, she effortlessly raised herself into the air, performing a smooth chin-up. Very slowly, she lowered herself back down, almost touching her firm ass to the countertop but stopping just short and curling herself back up again. Her movements were precise and controlled, clearly requiring no exertion on her part. On the next trip down, her sleek, smooth legs came up around Ron to gently brush against his arms and back, tantalizingly caressing him. As she rose back up again, the toes of her right foot traced a line up the back of his neck and around his cheek to his lips. He brushed them with a hasty kiss as they passed, rising out of his reach as she extended both legs out over his head, one perfectly straight and the other slightly bent at the knee.
This time as she came back down she released her left hand from the bar and used only her right to continue lowering herself. She gently touched his face with her left, and again wrapped her legs around him. This time they clamped tight, locking under his arms to pull him up with her as she flexed her right arm once more, now pulling them both into the air. Ron gasped at the sensation of becoming weightless, his hands appreciatively stroking the taut muscles of her sexy legs holding him in place. Drawing her thighs up to her chest, she brought him close enough to give him a deep, luscious kiss, her tongue fully exploring and taking ownership of his mouth. Her free hand slid down his back, slipping under the waistband of his boxer shorts and pushing them to the floor. Getting a firm grip on his ass, she balanced his weight on her hand and lifted him higher as her legs spread apart. His cock was rigid, pointing straight up at her. She smiled and licked her lips appreciatively, holding him inches away from her body as she slowly curled them both up and back down again.
By now Ron was absolutely crazed with lust, and began clawing at her panties. As he slid them down over her firm ass, she raised both legs straight up into the air in front of him so that he could pull them up to her ankles. From his position balanced on her hand and wrist, he couldn't quite reach all the way up her long legs, but that was as she intended. With the panties still around her ankles, she slipped them behind his head.
He gasped in astonishment and pleasure as his hard shaft slid into her slick, tight pussy. In her current position, with her ankles held together behind his head by her panties and his weight resting on her slender wrist, he hadn't been expecting it at all. She had simply pulled him up and into her, his cock pushing its way past her sensitive lips and penetrating deep into her. She purred with delight, pressing him tight against her body. After a moment, she slid him back down a few inches and then back up again, the backs of her thighs slapping against his stomach. He moaned at the intense pleasure. In a bed, this was one of their favorite positions, with her feet up over his shoulders or even pressed against the headboard, but her ability to pull it off in a vertical position was astounding. Her flexibility was almost as much of a turn-on for him as her strength, but the two of them combined were blowing his mind. She was picking up the pace now, repeatedly shoving him into her while still curling them both against the bar at a frenzied pace. As the strength of her arm caught them at the bottom of each stroke, the chains holding them to the ceiling jolted and shook, sending showers of dust down over them. By now it was far too late for either of them to care.
As the chains gave way, Bridgette landed flat on her back on the countertop with Ron on top of her. They hardly broke stride. Now that Ron had more control, he gripped the backs of her knees and pounded her cunt with all his might. Under him, Bridgette moaned appreciatively, writhing as she raised both arms over her head and gripped the metal bar that had recently been a pot and pan rack. Ron's hands slid further up her legs on either side of him, feeling the hard muscles under silky skin as she extended them to their full length, her toes pointed, the pink panties still stretched taut between her ankles. Ron's hands moved over her ankles, then along the soft fabric to the center point. He leaned forward, slowly pushing her legs down by putting more of his weight on the panties. He felt her supporting his weight without difficulty and controlling his movement toward her by slowly lowering her legs on either side of her body. To his amazement, his hands eventually came to rest above her head, her straight legs actually touching the countertop beside her. His face was inches from hers, her hard nipples brushing against his chest. She smiled with pleasure at the astonished look he wore.
"You didn't know I could do this?" she giggled.
"I - I knew you were flexible but...holding me up at the same time?" he stammered.
She smirked playfully. "Try me. Hold onto my ankles," she suggested. He did so, tentatively resting his weight on them. Her legs, with him on them, rose about a foot above the counter, than lowered back down to touch against the hard surface again. She repeated the lift nine more times, her exquisitely toned legs remaining perfectly straight as they raised and lowered his full weight. On the last rep, she held him up, her legs one foot above the counter and steady as a rock.
"Wow...how long can you hold me like this?"
"How long would you like me to?" she asked. Then, by spreading her legs wider apart, she lowered his face to hers and gave him a sensual kiss. Bringing her legs back together, she moved him away again. Then without warning, she bucked her hips hard, causing him to slam against her. "Oooh," she purred, closing her eyes and doing it again. Ron gripped her ankles tight and decided to enjoy the ride. He matched her rhythm, driving his cock deep into her pussy each time her hips bucked against him. He couldn't get over the feeling of his full weight resting on her long, shapely legs, the thought of the strength they possessed as they spread and stretched out above her own body.
"Damn," he moaned, more to himself than to her, "you really are my fucking fantasy..."
"Glad you're finally getting the picture," she breathed. A minute later she let out a savage scream as she climaxed. Her fists clenched even tighter on the bar and violently bent it into a sharp angle. At the sight of this, Ron shot his load and collapsed onto her.
* * * * * * *
Ron quickly learned that Bridgette's desire to be the ultimate personification of his fantasies extended beyond the bedroom (and kitchen). Even when they were out in public, she made every effort to look and act like his walking wet dream. She wore outfits which weren't quite as revealing as what she might wear for him in private, but still drew plenty of attention. With him she was affectionate but not clingy; with other guys she was friendly but not flirty. She drove men crazy without seeming to be aware of it, but Ron was slowly realizing that she knew exactly what she was doing at all times. She was the hot chick that every guy wanted but only he could have, and she loved playing the part.
In public, her incredible strength was a secret shared by only the two of them. She never brought attention to that aspect of herself, preferring instead to let her intensely feminine body draw the stares. But when no one was looking, she loved to give him little reminders of her power. While sitting together on a bench in a park, he would hear the unmistakable whine of the metal frame being bent ever so slightly as she gripped it. When walking down a street, if they passed a construction site she might stoop to surreptitiously scoop up a stray crescent wrench, which she would, at the next opportunity, bend into a U-shape with her feminine fists. She had a little trick where, as she was buying a soda from a vending machine, she would slip her slender foot under the front of the machine and lift it up just a few inches; not enough that anyone else would notice, but enough that as it dispensed her drink, she could jiggle it and sometimes make a second one pop out for free, which she would demurely give to him as if nothing strange had happened. He quickly came to love these brief, covert displays, like little previews of the mind-blowing private performances he was to receive later.
Beyond these unusual qualities exhibited by the bride, their honeymoon was typical of most. They lounged on the beach, ate in expensive restaurants, went for moonlit walks, and spent copious amounts of time in their room, unclothed and uninhibited, doing things to each other that would make an adult film director raise his eyebrows, and making noises that sent the people in the next room down to the lobby for some fresh air. They christened each piece of furniture in their suite, made use of all available floor space, did it on every possible bathroom fixture and kitchen counter, and up against each wall in turn. They did it slow, they did it fast, they did it with gentle caresses while kissing, they did it with rough, savage thrusts as they grappled each other greedily. Bridgette gave him her body in every imaginable position (and a few that he hadn't imagined), and usually managed to incorporate some sort of display of strength into their sex whenever possible, sometimes as foreplay, sometimes during the main event, sometimes not until the moment of her climax. The last variety was invariably the most spectacular.
When they weren't fucking, they were talking about fucking. Bridgette liked to hear how much Ron enjoyed her body and the things she did, and wanted to know how she could be even better. Fortunately for her, Ron loved to give her this feedback, and would recount in detail his favorite exploits of hers, sometimes getting so worked up that there was nothing for it but to head right back into the bedroom.
Today was the fourth day of their honeymoon, and they had already gone at it in the shower. Now they were getting ready to go for a swim and lay around on the beach for the afternoon. Bridgette was in a scandalous bikini of thin brown fabric which barely covered the essentials. While Ron wondered whether there might actually be more material in his shoelaces, she flashed him a playful smile. "How did you like the shower?" she asked coyly.
"Quite a lot," he grinned. "Especially when you broke off the tiles with your fingernails while you came."
"Did I do that?" she quipped. "I didn't even notice. Which orgasm was it?"
"The third, I think," he chuckled. "And the fourth."
"Oh, right." She stepped closer to him, her skin bronzed and gleaming from so much time in the sun. "I'm really enjoying our honeymoon, baby."
"I can tell," he nodded. "So am I."
"Oh, good," she purred. "What's been your favorite?"
He thought. "I think it's still Monday morning," was his answer, "when you bent the pan rack. I love it when you do stuff like that."
"Bending bars?"
"Yeah," he nodded. "It's so hot."
She nodded thoughtfully. "Okay...more sex with bar bending, huh?"
He grinned. "More sex with bar bending."
* * * * * * *
They cooled themselves in the beautifully blue Pacific Ocean, then spread out on their towels to soak up the sun. The sound of the ocean waves was very soothing, especially to Ron who was in a state of euphoric exhaustion. About an hour later he realized he had been snoozing. He looked over to see Bridgette still lying next to him, reading a book. For a few moments he simply admired her fit and feminine body, studying the curves of her waist and hips and the perfect, solid mounds of her buttocks. Her long legs, even relaxed and crossed at the ankles, were amazingly firm and shapely. He didn't often notice her obliques, with so many other enticing options to consider, but as his eyes followed the line of her body, he noted with interest that even those were as taut and toned as any other part of her. Her breasts were partially obscured by her arms as she rested on her elbows, engrossed in her novel, but even the round swells next to her biceps were intoxicatingly sexy. He swallowed, and noticed his throat felt dry.
"I think I'll go get us something to drink."
She glanced him and nodded. "Thanks, hon."
He wandered toward a snack bar, looking around at the happy faces and glinting skin on all sides. There were more than a few attractive girls here, no doubt, but he had yet to see one who could make him forget for one second about his ultra-hot wife. He grinned, feeling like the luckiest guy in the world.
His intimations were confirmed when he returned to Bridgette with a couple of Cokes in hand. Standing in a sort of huddle, not too far away from her but trying to look inconspicuous, stood a group of four guys who looked college age. They were all in good shape, better than him, and pretty good-looking as guys went. Bridgette turned a page, pretending not to notice them staring at her.
Ron, as though just passing by and pausing to hear their conversation, stood a little way off and watched.
"What'd I tell you?" one of them was saying. "That's definitely Body of the Day."
"No shit, moron," his friends laughed. "Damn...that's the finest thing I've seen since we got here."
They were trying to whisper, but not nearly quiet enough not to be heard. Ron wondered what Bridgette thought of their commentary. He stepped closer to the boys, pretending to admire her for the first time as well.
"She looks like she just stepped right out of Playboy," another one said in awe.
"Naw, not Playboy. She looks like the damn Sports Illustrated cover. You know what I mean? Those girls are hotter than Playboy...they're in just perfect shape. She's got no fat on her anywhere."
Ron was enjoying their opinions of his wife. He knew some guys would be crazy with jealousy, but he wasn't the type. Hearing others gawk over how hot his woman was just made him feel great.
"Look at her legs," they went on. "Just so long, and all toned."
"What about her ass? I've never seen anything that tight, it's incredible."
"Dude, I'm getting her number."
"No way. Look at her, she's gotta be with someone. There's another towel there."
"No one on it, is there?"
"There's no way, bro."
"Watch me."
The tallest of the group sauntered toward Bridgette. As she looked up at him, he gave her his most charming smile. "Hey baby, I don't mean to interrupt. I just wanted to tell you, you're the finest woman on this whole damn beach."
She gave him a cool, polite smile and said, "Oh, thanks," and went right back to her book.
"Hey, uh, would you like to maybe get something to eat with me?"
"No thanks, I'm not hungry." Not even looking up.
"Well...I meant later," he almost whined.
"Look, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm trying to read. Could you please go away?" Bridgette asked sweetly.
The vanquished hunk returned to his friends. "Shut down!" they jeered. "Nice going man!" He just shook his head.
"Goddammit, is she ever gorgeous," he moaned. "You could just stare into her eyes forever..."
"Her eyes? What the hell, man, what about her tits?"
"I...I didn't look...her face was just so..."
"I don't believe it, I want a look at her boobs! Let me at her!" Another creep made his way over. Ron could barely hide his smile.
This one crouched right down next to her as he asked, "What you readin'?"
Bridgette raised an annoyed eyebrow at him. "A book. Ever read one?" She didn't try to hide her delectable bosom from his stare, but was careful not to reveal it any further either.
"Aww, don't be that way," he moaned. "I'm just tryin' to..."
"I know what you're trying to do," she interrupted, her voice getting sterner. She slipped her hand over his where it rested on the sand. "I'm getting a little sick of it. Go back and tell your friends," she continued as her hand began pushing down on his, sinking it into the soft sand, "they have a lot to learn about how to treat a lady." As his wrist and forearm sunk deeper into the sand, the faint sound of his knuckles cracking could be heard. He winced with pain, clenching his teeth to keep from crying out. Ron wondered how much force would be required to slowly push someone's hand that far down through solid sand.
Bridgette withdrew her hand and went back to reading as if nothing had happened. The creep gingerly pulled his hand out of two feet of sand, cradling it carefully, and dashed back to the safety of the group.
"Holy shit, that bitch is a fucking psycho!" he moaned. "She fuckin' broke my hand!"
"What, just by pushing down on it? Yeah right, you puss. We saw it, she wasn't even trying hard."
His buddies laughed at him as he cautiously moved his fingers, still cringing. Ron decided it was time to make his move.
"Excuse me miss," he said as he approached his wife. She looked up at him as if she'd never seen him before. "Hi, my name's Ron. I was just wondering if you'd like something to drink?"
"Oh thank you, that's very nice of you," she said, taking the Coke from him. "I'm Bridgette." She smiled and extended her hand to him. As he took it in his and gently kissed it, he couldn't help shooting a glance over at the bewildered onlookers. Bridgette smiled demurely as he sat down next to her.
"I was just about to put on some more lotion," she remarked. "Would you mind rubbing it on me?"
"Not at all," he grinned, picking up her bottle and squeezing some into his hand. He began carefully massaging the oil into the silky skin of her well-muscled back.
"Wait," she said, deftly unhooking her bikini top with one hand as she laid down. "There, that's better."
Ron rubbed the oil into her entire back and sides, over her arms and all the way down her legs. "Mmmm," Bridgette moaned, playing it up for their spectators. "That feels sooo good..."
Ron finished by giving her a little foot rub. "Wow," Bridgette purred, "you have incredible hands."
"Thanks," he chuckled.
She sat up again, refixing her top. "Thank you," she said, pulling him close. As the other guys gasped in astonishment, she planted a long, passionate kiss on his lips. "That's my hotel," she said, pointing behind her. "Let me write down my room number for you." She tore a blank page from her novel and scribbled on it with a pen. Handing him the scrap, she raised her eyebrows. "Perhaps we can continue this in ten minutes?"
"I'll see you there," Ron grinned, and strolled away.
* * * * * * *
True to her word, Bridgette was waiting for him when he got back to the hotel room. He found her on the balcony, leaning on the railing with her luscious ass pointed provocatively upward. "Damn baby," Ron chuckled upon seeing her, "that was so great."
"Did you see their faces?" Bridgette grinned. "They were so freaked out when I asked you to rub me down!"
"Yeah, I loved that." Ron slid his hand over her ass, round and hard. "Mmmm, you looked so hot, they were just drooling all over themselves."
"Do you think they can see us?" Bridgette wondered. They were fairly high up, so it was difficult to tell if anyone was looking at them. "I bet they're watching." Bridgette leaned over farther, locking her legs straight and gripping the railing with two hands in front of her. "I'm so horny, baby...you wanna fuck me right here?"
Ron didn't have to think hard about that. He yanked her bikini bottom down to her knees and slid two fingers over her pussy. It was already sopping wet. Her succulent sex was at the perfect height; he dropped his swim trunks and rammed his hard cock up into it.
"Nnnh," she grunted as he penetrated her, then gave a loud moan. "Ohhhh yeah, baby." He grabbed her hips and thrust into her, feeling her cunt tighten around his shaft. "Mmmmm, come on baby, fuck me," she demanded, her voice getting louder. He could tell she was even more turned on than usual. He slid his hands forward along her back, gently pushing down. She obeyed his unspoken request, taking her hands off the top railing and sliding them down along the vertical poles as she bent further over. Her long hair fell around her face, almost touching the floor at her feet. "Ohhhhhhhh, yes baby, yesssssss..." she cried out.
Ron knew there was no need to hold anything back, and began pounding against her with all the force at his disposal. His cock plunged deep into her slick pussy, ramming against her most sensitive point and bringing screams of pleasure from her throat. They had to be able to hear her down on the beach, he thought, but that was the last time he thought about anybody else for a while.
Bridgette's fists clenched tightly around the vertical support poles at the base of the railing. As an orgasm wracked her lithe young body, she yanked them out of the balcony. With another tug, she ripped them free from the top railing. Growling with pleasure, she slapped the two bars together and gripped them tightly. As Ron kept pounding her from behind, she bent them both together. "Oh fuck yes, oh fuck yeahhhhhhhhhh," she wailed, crossing one end of the double-bar over the other and pushing it through until she had actually tied a knot in the center. Gritting her teeth, she arched her back as another powerful climax ripped through her. Her arms pulled apart; the knot in the middle of the two bars pulled tight. She leaned back against Ron's rapidly pounding hips, meeting his thrusts. Her arms kept pulling, the knot grew smaller and smaller, until finally, as he let out his final groan and pumped her full of his cum, the knot broke apart and she flung the two halves away, her body quaking in a final explosion of pure ecstasy.
Her legs stayed locked as he collapsed on her, letting her support his weight. She smiled, feeling his thick shaft pulse a few more times against her tightly clenched vagina. She was happy to wait until he wanted to move again; for now she was completely comfortable, and content. He moaned and kissed between her shoulder blades. "More sex with bar bending," he mumbled. She laughed out loud.
* * * * * * *
It was hard to believe a week had already passed. As Bridgette stuffed the last of her lingerie back into her suitcase, she bemoaned, "I didn't even wear half of this stuff for you yet!"
Ron chuckled. "Well, save it for home...there'll still be plenty of chances to put it to good use!"
This brought a smile to her sensuous lips. "That's true. Not as much as here, but still." She flipped the heavy luggage into the air, balancing it on her outstretched hand. "I can't believe we have to go back to our normal lives. I've gotten so used to having sex five times a day...I don't know how I'm going to make it through a whole day at work without being able to ride your nice, hard cock."
"Yeah, well just imagine how bad I'll be wanting you by the time I get home," Ron replied.
"Oooh, that'll make it worse," Bridgette moaned, pursing her lips. She lowered the suitcase, then raised it back up again. "I'll tell you one thing I'm looking forward to about being back home, though."
Her show of strength, combined with the topic of conversation, was making it difficult for Ron to think clearly. "Oh? What's that?" he responded thickly.
"My weights. I'm really craving a good workout," she grinned. She grabbed his suitcase in the other hand and turned to carry them both out to their car. "Correction," she added over her shoulder. "I'm really craving a good workout with you watching."
* * * * * * * *
To be continued...