by Carter Blake
I want to turn around to see if anyone’s watching this ludicrous display, but if they are, I’ll just let them enjoy it.
Now that all my stuff is on there, Kingston casts his eyes skyward so he doesn’t see the screen as he hands over the device. He slides the box with the charger across the desk as well.
“I thought you’d appreciate it being ready for you when you got it.”
I flip through different screens on the device, everything is surreally in the same place where I left it on my old phone―only larger.
“I sure do, Kingston. I’ll get you when I check out.”
I don’t feel like going anywhere, but I really don’t feel like going back up to the fucking honeymoon suite again.
I find a seat on a generic, semi-comfortable piece of lobby furniture and continue looking through my phone. I have hundreds of unread emails, those can wait...no missed texts or calls that I can see, which is kind of surprising, but everyone knows I’m out of town.
I try to open the web browser so I can look into changing my flight, but my thumb hits the wrong icon, opening my photos.
I think it’s an accident, but I can’t guarantee it.
The last photo I took fills the spacious screen. The picture’s from shortly after I first arrived, and it was overcast. There’s no one in the photo, just the boarded-up beach bar, and the empty beach. I remember thinking that it didn’t look like Hawaii, not in this weather.
Fuck this shit, I can’t just leave.
I know damn well that I’ll never see Madeline again after this week, but I’m not going the rest of my life without telling her how I feel about her.
How do I feel about her, anyway?
I’m still holding the cloudy, empty beach in my hand.
That’s partly why I need to see her: to talk to her, so I can figure out what this pseudo-honeymoon chapter actually means before I try to go on to the rest of my story.
If this shit sounds selfish, well, I guess I can’t argue with that.
But I’m not thinking about myself when pocket my phone and my charger and stride across the lobby and out the door.
I’m not thinking about myself at all as I walk quickly, jog across the pavement and onto the beach.
I’m not thinking about myself, or where I’m going, or any clear plan in mind as I break into a run, going south along the beach, passing the bar but seeing no one there.
Running even faster back to the pavement, bounding, dashing to the other part of the resort, I’m thinking about nothing but Madeline.
About seeing her emerald eyes one last time.
About trying to make her laugh.
About saying goodbye for real.
About telling her…
About telling her what I need her to know before she parasails away from me for good.
When I push through the front entrance of the nightclub, I’m nearly gasping for breath, my heart is pounding with quick insistence, and I’ve got sweat plastered all over my face and shirt.
I walk slowly across the empty first floor of the club, trying to regain some semblance of composure. I can only hope Maddie happens to be upstairs, although the odds on that are probably not great.
I visit the restroom to wash my face and try to dry off a little. After making myself marginally more presentable, I walk into the ill-conceived little gift shop by the stairwell.
I don’t know if I’m trying to delay seeing Maddie, or if I’m trying to delay not seeing her, but this gift shop in a nightclub is fucking weird as fuck.
I still take the opportunity to grab a few random things: a fairly fresh-looking bouquet of anthuriums, a lei of assorted regional flowers, a six-ounce sampler box of chocolates…wait, no, that larger box…no, actually that four-pound box is even better, and maybe one of those small ukuleles painted with a floral design…
By the time I get upstairs, carrying all of that, plus a five-foot teddy bear, I’m mostly relieved to see Maddie―sitting at a table with Laura―so that she can take at least some of this stuff off my hands. If she wants any of it.
God, she looks good.
She must’ve gotten that sundress dry-cleaned as well, because she’s wearing that, and her long hair is flowing down just one side, over her right shoulder, strands of gold framing her radiant face and draping further down to rest atop...
Anyway, Maddie doesn’t look shocked or surprised in any way to see me. After taking a microsecond to register the sight of me trying to take careful steps across the room both arms loaded with all this crap, Madeline instantly begins shrieking with laughter as her face turns beet red in disbelief.
Laura’s probably used to Maddie’s laughing fits, so it takes her a few seconds to bother turning around and enjoy the scene herself.
“What the fuck?” At least Laura’s able to get a few questioning words across as she laughs.
Maddie’s coming close to hyperventilation as she struggles not to fall out of her chair while she’s also struggling to answer Laura’s question.
Maddie’s shaking her now rosewood-colored face, signaling that she has no idea what the fuck’s going on.
I continue taking slow, careful steps, playing up the clumsiness for their enjoyment, and they indeed enjoy the show for a few more seconds before getting up to help me.
Maddie’s still laughing, though not quite as hard, as she takes the humongous box of chocolates from the crook of my left arm.
“Dude, holy shit.” Maddie’s first sentence of the evening is perfect.
“You know, you can do your souvenir shopping after you hit the club,” Laura notifies me while grabbing the uke.
“I’ll keep that in mind next time.”
“You didn’t happen to get anything for me, by any chance?”
Maddie’s laughter is now just a luminous smile.
“Why, yes, here you go.”
I transfer the giant stuffed bear to Maddie’s waiting arms.
“I can stuff this guy in the overhead bin,” Maddie remarks from behind the wall of plush fabric and cotton.
“Or you could just send me the bill for all huge checked baggage.”
“That works, too.”
Maddie opens her arms and lets the poor beast fall to the floor.
“Oh, and all this other stuff is for you, also.”
“I figured as much.”
I hand Maddie the flowers, and I’m about to place the lei over her head when I hear some ukulele chords ring out behind me.
“Unless Laura wants the uke. That’s up to you.”
“No,” Maddie expresses sweetly before her smile turns terrifically evil. “It’s mine.”
Laura ignores the both of us as she begins walking back to the table and while strumming the uke―until she stops short while walking by Maddie and sweetly, lightly touches her shoulder and flashes her a brief, sweet look. A look I pretend not to see, but a look that seems to say See? I told you so.
I can’t afford optimism or delusions right now.
“Madeline?”
“Yeah, I’m right here.”
Laura’s ukulele chords are growing further.
“I…it’s been shit. My life just, well, kind of turned to shit.”
“Um…”
“Wait. When I came here, on an eleven-hour fucking flight to Hawaii, I didn’t know what was going to happen. I wasn’t excited. I was pretty much ready to give up.”
“Hold the phone, is this an infomercial?”
“Not quite. Madeline, I realize, sort of just right now, I’m realizing that my life has been shit for a long time, even when I thought I was the shit. But this week has been...”
Fuck, words keep getting caught in my throat today.
“It’s been,” I continue, or try to, “it’s just been the best. The best week of my life.”
Holy shit, did I just say that?
“Really?” Maddie looks like she’s about to start laughing again, and that’s what her tone sounds like, but she seems to get caught up
at the end of the word―just like I’ve been today.
“This is why I wanted to see you one last time, Madeline. I know that it’s gonna end soon, and I’m fine with that, but...I just really wanted to say thanks. I wish it didn’t have to end, but...fuck, ignore that part. Just…thanks.”
Madeline seems touched, at least. Big tears are rolling down her cheeks, and she lets out a loud, unselfconscious sigh.
“No.”
“No, what?”
“No, I don’t want it to end, either. No.”
Maddie’s walking towards me. She takes the lei off and starts putting it over my head.
“No?” It seems like the thing to say.
“No,” Maddie asserts, smiling through her tears.
“No,” I state simply as Madeline finishes putting the lei on and proceeds to use it to pull me to her.
“Yes.” Madeline finishes with that word as our lips meet in celebration.
Ethan
The bellhop is more classy and discreet than I could’ve hoped for as he wheels the luggage cart full of Maddie’s gifts down the hallway behind us, somehow doing a convincing portrayal of someone who doesn’t even notice as Maddie and I stumble towards the suite door in giddy thrill while grabbing onto each other’s backs and waists, laughing and laying random kisses on each other’s lips, necks, and shoulders.
By the time I’m fumbling for the keycard to unlock the door, Hawaii’s Most Discreet Bellhop is gone. He must have that vanishing act outside the honeymoon suite down to a motherfucking science by now.
Before I even have the keycard inserted fully, Maddie and I are in the throes of our fiercest spell of ravenous making out to date. Just like in some fucking movie, we rotate into the suite as our tongues continue their feverish dance, with me blindly hitting the wall with my palm until I find the light switch.
As warm LED light fills the suite’s main room, I pull my lips away from Maddie’s at a glacial pace, sucking on her lower lip like it’s the key to discovering all that is good in the universe―because I’m pretty sure it actually fucking is.
As good as Maddie’s lower lip feels pressed between mine, feeling it slide away with a sumptuous slowness sends bolts of fiery electricity throughout my being, with the added bonus of making my cock so fucking hard that it would put that microwave sandwich to goddamn shame.
I stare into Maddie’s eyes, letting the power of their mythical beauty inspire new, unmapped sensations of heat, power, and just pure fucking horniness flow, forcing myself to take in her painfully hot features even though painful is no exaggeration and my desire actually starts to fucking overflow...but I force myself to stay locked in Madeline’s emerald stare.
That is, until she bites her lip, and for a second, it almost becomes too fucking much. She starts pulling at the lei I’m still wearing―not necessarily trying to pull me to her, but just pulling out of blind, building passion, grabbing at the flowers with such intensity that petals fall to the floor and generally just fly all over the fucking place.
Maddie’s also grinding her crotch against the front of my jeans, and I’m gyrating in kind, my cock getting a tantalizingly faint sense of the supple phenomena of Madeline’s body through her sundress and my own pants and boxer briefs.
Maddie’s had enough of simply snatching at the lei with little tugs, and now she’s using both hands to grip it furiously. She falls backwards in a purposeful, almost graceful way. I can tell she’s voraciously eager to get in a position besides standing.
We fall to the floor good and hard, our lips drawn back to being hermetically sealed, like they’re two oppositely charged ions unable to deny their ionic bond―or some other science-y shit. All I know is that I’m face-down on top of Maddie, with her arms wrapped around my upper back, gripping me with an almost alarming intensity, trying to somehow get me closer, or maybe to get us both to sink through the floor as we remain rapt in charged erotic bliss.
As I greedily tango my tongue around hers in intuitive rhythm with Maddie, reaching into her dress and stroking the downy coolness of her thigh, the ripening desire feels so good that I want it build and build forever, for eternities, as we attain new levels of excitement and exhilaration not yet known to the human mind.
Maddie helps herself to two generous handfuls of my vacation-shaggy hair, pulling with aggressive force as I finally come up for air. The moderate bit of pain mixed with the unearthly pleasure of Maddie pressing her body upwards against my clothed cock generates a hazy white flash that washes briefly over my vision before leaving a clear-focused view of Madeline’s enraptured face framed by her golden locks―some of them shining in exquisite heaps, some just flowing out across the floor in a way that makes me just want to fucking howl with animalistic desire and anguish at beauty that I will never be able to fully comprehend or process.
Instead of howling, I’m trying to just enjoy the view for a moment, but I can’t help but notice Maddie’s eyes starting to focus and go―I don’t know how else to describe it―fucking feral. Her gorgeous lips pull back to reveal her teeth, and her nose scrunches in an amazingly sexy show of fixated aggression.
“Let me have it. All of it.”
The words just fall out of me. I’m not even thinking. I’m just wanting.
Madeline doesn’t respond verbally. Her hands still firmly fastened onto my hair, she starts pulling even harder while pushing me onto my side with the substantial force of her left leg.
I’m caught up in a tornado-like force of nature moving me and eventually knocking me onto my back. I surrender to the power, feeling the wonderful weight of Madeline’s body come to rest on top of my throbbing, starving cock―still restrained and wrapped up in my pants, waiting patiently, or not, for its chance to be freed from the pants leg just barely keeping it from popping up into its natural position.
Oh my fucking god. She starts grinding, beginning just below my waist and moving slow and easy down the rigid tent of fabric until she reaches the very tip, before moving back up again.
I hear an intense, floor-shuddering moan. I know that I’m making the noise, but I have no control over it. I also have no control over my head falling back and hitting the floor as I almost pass out from the pleasure.
Once again, I find myself flat on the ground, holding my forehead, trying to cope with the full force of what this woman does to me.
Mercifully, Madeline pauses her grinding after several roundtrips of increasing pressure. She brings more of her weight down on my dick and leans forward slightly.
“You asked for it,” she intones coldly.
I try reaching for her tits, but she pushes my hands away and grabs the top of her dress.
I’m thinking about how she’s going to tear the straps if she tries to pull it down, but my thoughts are interrupted by an almost cartoonish yell.
Maddie is channeling Tarzan with her yowl, swinging across the jungle on a vine. I wasn’t expecting to fucking laugh, but I almost do...until Maddie just fucking tears her fucking sundress down the middle like she’s Hulk Hogan or some shit.
I almost want to laugh again, but as she tosses the shredded fabric across the room, I’m immediately spellbound by those perfectly natural, imperfectly round and terrifically large orbs of wonder, held in place by a sexy as fuck bra.
My hands go up again, and Maddie hits them away before undoing and letting her bra drop onto my stomach. Before I can even register the splendor of Maddie’s naked tits, she decides now’s the time for my hands to reach their desired destination―her fingers dig painfully into my wrists as she grabs them, but any discomfort is demolished the moment she transports my hands to her heaving chest.
Maddie lets go of my wrists as I massage her tits tenderly. Her green eyes sparkle as I gradually intensify my kneading. When she tosses her golden hair and looks up at the ceiling to hide a smile, I swear to fuck, I come closer to coming in my fucking pants than I thought possible.
I didn’t think anything could feel better than Maddie’s tits in m
y hands―or at least as much of them can fit in my hands―but as she leans forward, her weight pushing them into my palms, I practically fucking growl.
Madeline doesn’t seem to mind. After she leans forward far enough, we share a few slow, dawdling kisses, saturated with hunger.
“My turn to go first,” Madeline whispers in my ear.
She won’t hear any arguing from me.
Madeline slams her hands across the carpet on either side of me with a pair of potent thumps. She throws her head back with startling abruptness, but nothing could prepare me for watching the massive, blond forest of Maddie’s hair flying back towards me as she swiftly brings her head back down and lets her hair rest on top of my chest. As Maddie slides down to position herself, her hair glides slowly from my chest all the way down to my belt.
Why, oh why, am I still wearing a fucking shirt? If, one supremely lucky day, I get to find out what that feels like without a stupid goddamn motherfucking shirt in the way, I will likely be able to die happy afterwards.
For the time being, I’ll have to make due with watching Maddie toss her head back up and whip her hair a few times to get it out of her face as she undoes my belt.
“I am the luckiest motherfucker in the fucking universe,” I grit out through clenched teeth, unable to keep the certainty of it to myself.
“Easy there, Eth. And take your fucking shirt off, already.”
I do as I’m told as Madeline frees me from the burden of my pants.
Ethan
The boxer-briefs I have with me on this honeymoon are supposed to be breathable, whatever the fuck that means. Despite that claim, and their ridiculous prices, when Maddie pulls my cock out into the wonderful, air-conditioned atmosphere of the honeymoon suite, it feels like my cock can breathe for the first time since we left the damn elevator.
Maddie leisurely pulls down my pants and underwear while eyeing my cock: wholly engorged, pointing somewhere towards the top of the wall behind me with its generous length, throbbing, hard, and deep violet in color.
At the same time, I’m joyously watching Maddie, the appetite in her eyes setting me on absolute fucking fire, filling me with a never-ending, superheated eruption of molten lust.