October
I don’t see Todd again until Chrisette hosts a drinks and cheese night. She and Sasha are all excited about it, which is cute, and they’re right—this will be the first time there’s been a real party in the house since I bought it. They said Guy’s Night doesn’t count.
Chrisette even has Sasha help choose an outfit for me. I didn’t think my clothes were that bad, but they spend an hour roasting me for having the same shirt in four colors. I don’t mind; Chrisette likes the final look enough that when Sasha leaves, Chrisette climbs me like a fucking tree. We have to open the windows for a little bit, but we don’t have time to shower. Chrisette pulls out a pack of baby wipes and we clean up just in time for the doorbell to ring.
Even though Sasha returns thirty minutes late with her shitty boyfriend in tow, they both immediately start acting like cohosts, all Come In Come In So Happy You Made It. Better them than me. I fetch drinks from the kitchen. I take people’s jackets and put them in the office. I check the bathroom to make sure we’re good on toilet paper. I don’t look at Todd, I don’t talk to Todd, and I don’t fucking think about Todd. He probably didn’t have to have anyone pick his clothes out for him.
“Hey, that’s everyone.” Chrisette grabs my arm gently as I pass her with two more jackets. “Come be with me, okay?”
She noticed me hiding. “Okay,” I say as she kisses my cheek. I can still smell a little of my aftershave on her, which makes me wish everyone would leave so we could get back to fucking.
When I come back to the living room Chrisette is telling a story. I love watching her command a room. She beckons me over without pausing.
"I can't even do it right, but it's hilarious. I always have to just close my eyes," Chrisette is saying as I return to the room.
"What is?" I ask, sitting on the arm of the couch beside her.
She turns to me. "Hey, make that face you do when I start talking about delicious peanut butter burgers."
Just the sound of that grosses me out. Who the hell would mix ground beef and peanut butter?
"That's his O face?" Sasha laughs incredulously.
"What? No, it isn't," I protest. Is that what they were discussing?
Chrisette pulls me to sit next to her. “It totally is!” she says. “Why do you think I like it doggy style?”
Scotty shakes his head. “That’s fucked up,” he says.
I should be able to clap back with something clever, but honestly I can't think of a damn thing to say. Is this how she's telling me that I still suck in bed? In front of everyone?
“Okay, okay, new topic,” Todd interrupts, giving Sasha a look.
Sasha points at Chrisette. “Name your ideal superpower plus what you consider your current superpower.”
“Current?” I repeat, not because I can't understand the question, but because I can't think of anything.
“I’d have the power to turn invisible,” Sasha volunteers as an example, “and my current power is seeing through bullshit.”
Then why is she with Todd?
“I'd have the Midas touch,” volunteers one of Chrisette’s co-workers whose name I already forgot. “And my current superpower is finding parking spots close to the door.”
Of course this sparks debate about whether the Midas touch is truly a blessing or a curse, and what the market for gold would be in this scenario. I'm still thinking about seeing through bullshit when it's Todd’s turn.
“I'd have the power to be in two or more places at once,” he declares.
Chrisette laughs. “Is that because you hate texting and never answer your phone?”
Sasha prods her sneaky bastard boyfriend. “What's your superpower now?”
Todd’s light eyes meet mine just before he grins and kisses her. “Fucking.”
Everybody starts whooping over that one. I roll my eyes. Sasha booes him, which makes me like her more. Maybe she's just with him for the sex.
“What about you, Jesse?” Todd asks. Coming out of his mouth it sounds like a trick question.
Now I'm on the spot again, but I spent too much effort thinking about everyone else’s answers and not planning my own. I blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Fixing stuff. I'd have the power to fix anything broken. Any problem.”
“Like a faith healer?” One of the coworkers says skeptically. I should have said teleportation or something. Todd’s snake eyes are locked on me as though I revealed a secret.
“I’d never have to buy anything except food,” I reason quickly. “I'd never have to take my car to the mechanic, never have to pay to get the roof reshingled, never have to go to the doctor. None of you would. So, you're welcome.” It actually wasn't that bad of an answer.
“Then what's your current superpower?”
I scratch my head. “I don't think I have one.”
“World’s quickest temper,” Chrisette suggests. “Or no—the worst O face.”
“That's just wrong,” I say, laughing with everyone else even though I mean it.
“Well, my superpower is loving you anyways,” she says magnanimously, bowing to the sarcastic slow clap that Sasha starts.
With a big dumb smile I excuse myself to go into the kitchen. It's easy to find a reason to be in there. I slice some more cheese, open another bottle of wine, and find the extra box of little toast thingies that Chrisette bought. Dish up more olives. If only I hadn't knocked out the wall over the cabinets. Having a bar space is nice, sure, but right now I wish there was a visual barrier between me and everyone else.
Maybe I’m just dehydrated.
"Don't let it get to you." Todd's low voice sounds suspiciously close to my ear, and I yank my head out of the fridge. He's actually just leaning against the sink, though, ankles crossed and hands on the countertop behind him.
I grab a bottle of tonic, responding just as quietly, "Let what get to me?"
He watches me mix the tonic with cranberry juice. "That's not your O face."
"Shut up, Todd." Of all the people who would try to comfort me.
Todd shrugs. "That temper, though. Grumpy Dimple Boy."
Glancing at the party, I ask a little too loudly, "What do you want?"
"Another beer."
When I move to let him at the fridge Chrisette looks back at us. "Babe, will you get me one, too?"
Todd laughs. "Wait; am I babe, or is he?" He points to me with the freshly opened bottle and I barely resist smacking it out of his hand.
Throwing her slim arms wide, Chrisette declares, “Both, as long as you're bringing me beer.”
“But who is the plucky piglet who herds sheep and saves the day?” I ask, subtly snatching the beer from Todd and coming around the corner.
Chrisette takes her drink and toasts my mocktail. “You are.”
Everyone chuckles, myself included, so it doesn’t bother me until much later. Todd starts telling me “That’ll do, Babe” whenever Chrisette is around, and I'd force him to stop if it didn't make her laugh.
November
The ceremony is perfect. Chrisette looks like an angel. My whole family flies in for the wedding, my dad stays coherent until the reception, and then my buddy Joe gets Dad out of the hall before he can make anyone uncomfortable. Chrisette’s parents have nothing but nice things to say about the hotel. Mrs. Shen even tells me to call her Ma, which makes the years walking on eggshells around her worth it.
“We’re going to talk to a billion people and not dance at all,” Chrisette warned me yesterday, “and you’ll have to put your Good Boy face on until it’s over. No hibernating until the honeymoon.”
I kissed her and she grinned. “On the day we get married, I’ll be the fucking life of the party,” I promised.
It isn’t hard to be happy meeting and re-meeting all of Chrisette’s extended family. These are my folks now, too. Because I’m fucking married to the woman of my dreams. I keep looking at Chrisette in disbelief. She’s my actual wife now.
“You a dumb boy, to marry this crazy girl!” Grandpa Shen laughs when we reach the grandparents table.
“Yie Yie, how dare you!” Chrisette smacks his arm lightly. “You should be telling me that I’m a crazy girl to marry this dumb boy!” The rest of the exchange is in Mandarin, but for once it feels like her family actually likes me.
There’s a lot of toasting, but for once I don’t have to explain that I’m not drinking; the hotel gave me sparkling grape juice that looks enough like champagne. Chrisette is showing pink around her neck and the edges of her makeup, but she’s so pretty and charming that I don’t think anyone notices when she starts to slur her words a little. She’s a fucking adorable drunk, though, and tonight she even hangs with my friends for a minute.
"Does this mean you're missing Guys' Night for life?" my friend Scotty jokes.
Chrisette smiles up at me. "Absolutely, it does," she answers.
I raise my eyebrows at her. I haven't been to Guys' Night in a couple months, anyway. "This had better mean that we're playing strip poker at home," I tell her, and she giggles.
"We'll only be playing half the game," Chrisette says.
Scotty shakes his head and claps me on the shoulder. "Congratulations, lucky bastard."
We do get to dance, eventually, just one song as my side of the party starts clearing out. Chrisette’s family will party until the hotel staff shuts them down.
"Maybe I won't get to love you as long as I want to. Life isn't long enough baby, but I will love you as long as I live," Chrisette sings along as she wraps her arms around my neck.
I smile. "You're so drunk." It's the only time she'll sing, which is a shame. I love her voice. "Is it time to take you to bed?"
"Mmyeah. Prolly," she says cutely.
It takes nearly another hour to say all our goodnights and goodbyes, so by the time we reach the elevator Chrisette is almost passed out. I feel a little guilty that I didn’t notice just how much she’d been drinking, and I know she didn’t have water. I have to carry her back to our suite, which is a chore with the key card and her giant skirt to deal with, but we make it. Then there are a lot of buttons and layers of skirt and maybe a corset? bustier? girdle? to go through before Chrisette is down to acceptable sleepwear. It's lace. Her lingerie is all lacy and see-through.
"Why aren't you awake?" I groan quietly. Maybe I should have made an exception for my wedding—I'm sure drinking enough so that I could also pass out once wouldn't make me an automatic alcoholic. Then maybe I wouldn't be so goddam frustrated by tiny panties and little rosy brown nipples peeking at me. I duck out to fetch a bottle of water for her, and when I come back she’s rolled onto her side. It’s a thong. The tiny panties are even tinier than I thought. The round curve of her ass greets me, those two perfect cheeks bisected by the thinnest strip of fabric, so easy to tear off…
“Goddam it,” I mutter. I have a chubby, but I guess I’ll have to jack off. I use some of the pillows to keep Chrisette in place before I head to the giant bathroom for some self satisfaction.
There's a knock on the door. A quick look at my phone tells me that it's 12:30 am. I hear it again, this time more insistent. The booking agent for this place had said something about the hotel sending champagne to the couple, but wasn't that in the morning? Maybe not. I shut the bedroom door behind me—ain't no bellboy getting his spank bank material from my comatose wife—and head to the suite door. I yank it open on the third knock and Todd practically falls into the room.
"What the fuck are you doing here?"
He pretends to be delighted to see me. “It’s Babe! The little piggy got married!”
"Get out of here, dude," I warn quietly. "Chrisette is sleeping."
Todd cocks his head, glances at the bedroom door, then puts one hand on the back of my head and kisses me. I shove him away; he tastes like bourbon smells.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” I hiss through clenched teeth.
When Todd turns back toward the door I think I've won for once, but he just shuts and locks it. My heart rate doubles.
"Todd, you're drunk. Come on," I plead, backing away. He moves toward me slowly, deliberately, with that narrow-eyed calculating look over some other expression I don't understand. "Todd, you gotta leave, man."
He catches me by the tie.
"Please," I say as I feel the bow loosen around my throat. Todd doesn't seem to be paying attention as he pulls the bow tie from my collar and starts undoing buttons. "Chrisette—"
Todd's lips stop the rest of the sentence, pushing the taste of dark liquor onto my tongue. He pushes my jacket off my shoulders to let it fall on the floor, then the vest, then the belt so he can pull my shirt out of my pants. My heartbeat is so loud I can feel it in my toes. His mouth leaves mine to travel to my jaw, down my neck to settle at my throat as he carefully unbuttons the white shirt. Todd's lips barely leave my skin, trailing lower and lower with each loosened button. He pauses to pay special attention to each nipple, but when his teeth get involved I pull him up by the hair.
"No marks," I whisper harshly.
He nods, pressing another kiss to my mouth before returning to his task. I can't relax; Chrisette could wake up at any moment and wander in. This feels…I don't know. It isn't the threatening, violent, hasty fuck that I've grown to expect. Maybe that's why I'm letting Todd do whatever the hell he wants. It's the second dumbest thing I've ever done, next to starting the fight that led me down this path in the first place.
But God, his mouth is magic. Even with the barrier of my underwear between us, Todd's tongue finds the sensitive slit in my cockhead and digs in.
“Oh, fuck,” I say as quietly as I can manage. Do women get like this too, when they have whatever the female equivalent of a boner happens? Does all common sense just go away, and despite knowing better they just have to get off? It would take a gun in my face to stop now, and even then I'd still hesitate to shove Todd’s head away.
Todd gently pushes me backward onto the couch. I stay still while he takes off his jacket, clumsily unbuttons his shirt, and undoes his belt.
"Last one," I say when Todd turns to me. He nods, shoving his pants and underwear below his knees. I don't think he gets it. "I mean it: last time. You can't keep doing this." I could have said "we."
Todd has a condom in his wallet, as always. He has trouble opening it—he’s even more intoxicated than I thought—so in a moment of impatience I take it from him. It’s the pre-lubed kind. He puts the wrapper in his pocket and slowly rolls the rubber over his cock.
“This is fucking stupid.”
Todd lifts my knees and positions his cock at the entrance to my ass. “I know.”
He invades me slowly, deeply, gripping the back of the couch to keep us connected. It's only natural to put my arms around his neck; there isn't enough space to do much else. I can feel his heartbeat against my chest. It races despite the gentle pace he sets, as though he has all night. It's…there's nothing like being inside someone, especially someone you love, but this is…I don't love Todd, but I feel…Like, maybe the reason why Chrisette likes it slow is because I have to pay more attention to what I'm doing. Being on the receiving end is a new sensation. I don't know; it's kind of nice for a change.
As soon as that thought enters my mind I feel guilty. I just got married. Today. To Chrisette. Who is sleeping in the other room in the recovery position.
"Hurry up," I hiss.
Todd slides one hand to hold the back of my head and speeds up his thrusts. In and out, his tuxedo shirt barely muffling the smack of our bodies together. One time I hear movement from the bedroom and tense so hard my ass clenches, which makes Todd suck a whole bunch of air through his teeth.
"Holy shit," he moans.
"Shut up!" I snap, straining to hear if Chrisette is getting up. What the fuck will I do if we wake her?
"That almost made me come," Todd explains, oblivious.
Really? I tense on purpose this time, hoping he'll bust his nut quickly and leave. Todd's reaction is almost unbelievable—he grabs my hips with both hands, withdrawing until only the tip of his cock is in my ass, and his eyes shut as he tries his best not to climax. This is just because my asshole got scared? I clench again around the mushroom head left inside me.
Todd groans and looks down at where our bodies are connected. "Fuck, Jesse."
"Hurry up," I remind him. But Todd doesn't move, so I start bouncing in his lap. I didn’t really know I could do that. Or that my body knew how, I mean. First I’m impressed with myself, then I’m a little scared at how fast I find that magic spot inside, the one that has made getting fucked worth the risk.
Todd whispers encouragingly in my ear but I don’t really hear him now. He’s pressed close so that my cock is sandwiched between us, and all I can think about is fucking that divot in his abs while his dick massages the spot inside me. Shit, that’s good. There’s a roaring in my head and I feel my arousal in my cheeks, my throat, my chest, my groin, the soles of my feet. Todd puts his knees on the couch, under my thighs, to grind his meat into my center, rolling his hips so that he’s rocking us together. His stomach is slick with my precum; my cock slips over the ridges as I fuck as hard as I can, my balls crushed between us in a way that’s just painful enough to be exciting. I’m gonna be too loud, shit shit shit.
Todd stuffs his tie into my mouth. “Bite the fuck down,” he orders through his teeth, and then fucks me so hard my peripheral vision goes white. Noises keep escaping my throat, little ones that sound like a puppy. This can’t be me. But my body is screaming for release.
"Come for me," Todd says in my ear. "Come for me, Jesse."
I do, and I am; it hits me in waves that match my pulse. Huge spurts of cum cover Todd’s stomach as my entire lower half seizes in pleasure.
When Todd comes moments later he presses his face to my neck, breath leaving his chest in short sharp bursts. We stay like that, panting wordlessly, letting the adrenaline of sex drain away. It takes Todd’s soft cock slipping out of my ass for my brain to catch up.
I’m a fucking piece of garbage. I could have checked the peephole and known to not let him in. If I tell myself that this was all more blackmail, another power play for Todd to wield over me, and that resisting would have meant he put us both on blast…
I tap him on the arm. "Todd. Todd, you have to leave."
With a huge sigh Todd pushes himself off the couch. I watch him dispose of the condom, tuck himself back into his underwear and zip up, and find his jacket.
"You can't leave that here," I say as I yank my clothes back on.
Todd blinks at me. Ah, right, he's drunk. I can't believe I forgot for a second.
"Take the trash bag with you."
All that shameful evidence just disappears into his tux pocket. As best as I can walk after that I hustle him to the door. Todd lets me push him out of the room before he says anything. "Jesse," he says, putting his hand on the door, "Jesse. Hey."
"What?" I reply through my teeth. He needs to get lost.
"Jesse," Todd repeats. He doesn't seem to have a follow up.
“Go to bed, Todd,” I instruct.
He’s figured out what he wants to say, though. "Treat her like a queen," Todd finally says. "You won, so be fucking good to her." He gestures at the bedroom in case I don't get it.
I shut the door on him.
