by Love Belvin
First, the feeling in my extremities resumed. Ezra’s mouth had moved to my inner thigh, applying fond nibbling. Then my ability to hear returned, as I could detect the wild activities of my lungs. He was allowing me relief from my overly sensitized clit. I was, however, unable to speak. As my wit returned, I felt I should provide words of gratitude for him doing something no other man before him could do. Ezra gave me an orgasm, without much effort, by igniting the receptors in places on my body other than my powerhouse of pleasure.
Eventually, his mouth returned between my legs, licking every inch of me with measured pressure and rhythm. His arms rounded my hips, pushing up until his hands reached my breasts. He massaged them teasingly, alternating compression and I lay underneath Ezra’s talented mouth, helplessly giving him free rein—absolute governing over my pleasure. He took it straight from my sex, I realized, as I felt the coiling again in my heated core. I quickly surmised the benefit of being restrained. I had no control, forced to relinquish it to the assault his mouth paid to my pussy. Hotdamn! My groin tightened, preparing for another lift off. And when he squeezed my nipples for seconds long and released them, I exploded yet again. I shouted my orgasmic insanity.
“Omigooood!” ripped from my lungs.
The music registered and I heard Anthony Hamilton’s “The Best of Me” seeping from the speakers. Ezra’s tireless mouth retreated to my thighs and even traveled up to my belly, never losing a stroke of stamina. My emotions peaked, a moment of sanity ascended upon me and I realized what had just taken place. I’d reached an intimate place with a man…a virtual stranger who’d just claimed me. Whether I agreed or not, Ezra believed me to be his and was procuring my body with each orgasm he pried from me. It was all too much. There were too many conclusions to draw from it. I was too raw and vulnerable to gather myself. I needed to weave the words. He was done, having given me two spellbinding orgasms; an achievement never reached before.
And with that thought came his mouth again. Ezra teased me, thrilled me, frustrated me, and filled me with that one muscle from his mouth. This time, he inserted his finger, twisting it incrementally as though examining my cavity. This went on and on, exquisite zings of pleasure hitting places in my frame I had no idea I could feel. He eventually hit a reservoir of sensitive nerve endings I’d never learned until this point and my body jerked hard, seizing into the air.
His left hand came up and thrummed my hard nipples as his tongue danced against my quivering nub and his finger hooked and swiped that minefield of nerve endings. Though my thighs widened in especial craving to take him deeper, I didn’t think I could come again. Not only had I never had an orgasm with a man, but I’d never gotten myself off more than twice—and even then it was with Ezra in mind. Lurking in the back of my racing mind was that one time with him and the dildo.
Fuck! Ezra was matching with his mouth what he was able to do with the vibrator.
In no time, I was pushed over the edge with a more powerful orgasm than the previous two. This one so potent, tears pooled my eyes, spilling out onto the sides of my face as my body tensed in a fit taking flight. My body twisted and jerked in the air so harshly that when I came down I was completely boneless. Couldn’t move to breathe deeply. Was only able to oxygenate shallowly.
“That,”—Ezra uttered huskily—“was incredible. You’re awfully responsive.”
Seconds later, he began unfastening the restraints, gently massaging my wrists and ankles with chaste care. As overly-sensitized as my body was, I was still receptive to his kind touch. He’d been generous to me, further wrangling my mind. Ezra was selfless and caring? What was this?
Who is this man?
And I’d married him, a stranger that held this hidden gift. I swallowed hard. All of his self-assuredness and quiet confidence had surfaced. The preacher had some level of sexual mastery. Beyoncé and Drake sang in loops, “You’re mine, you’re mine,” a very possessive message considering what just took place.
“Let’s get you cleaned up, my kitten.” Ezra stood from the bed and once again, extended his hand.
My eyes raced as fast as my mind when they hit the bulging crotch of his pants.
I wet my lips, nervously. “But you,” I cleared my throat, lids fluttering. “I know you must…”
“I’ll be fine, which is why I can’t wash you from head to toe like I want to.” My eyes raced to his face. “Right now I want to do things to your body that might render you unbalanced, which is a state I don’t want you in so soon after our nuptials. Trust me, Alexis, I’m doing the both of us a favor by holding off just a few hours more.” His head slanted. “Please don’t make me question my decision.”
My heart hiked in pace. There was a raging warning behind his words. I took his hand and was led to the bathroom that connected to the bedroom. Ezra pointed out the different toiletries: shampoo, conditioner, body wash, lotion, etc. The place was stocked, I had to give it to him. When he closed the door after himself, I collapsed against the wall on my haunches.
What the hell just happened?
I took my time in the shower, washing my hair then found myself examining my body. That quickly I didn’t recognize it. I felt my body had betrayed me by withholding secrets of pleasure from me. More than that, it yielded to him in ways I never had. He pulled my pleasure straight from me. I felt like a marionette, being controlled by a puppet master.
And I want to do it again…
That admission terrified me. I finished up rinsing off and left the shower to comb out my tangles. One glance at myself in the mirror brought on troubling uncertainty. My face was free of the makeup from my wedding day but for the smudged eyeliner. That sight caused a flash of arousal all over again. My palms gripped the edge of the vanity as I tried to gain a hold of myself. Something in me was shifting. I felt my self-control fleeting somehow.
Calm the hell down, Lex! One night of multiple orgasms doesn’t mean you’ve lost a piece of yourself.
It could’ve simply meant that I’d built up so much curiosity within I was at the point of an explosion. That was it!
Right?
I found my head shaking, hard. I needed to leave this head space. I finished combing out my hair and towel dried it again before pulling it back into a long French braid over my right shoulder: I could blow dry it another time. When I opened the door to the bathroom, I found Ezra sitting at the foot of the bed. His back was to me, but I could see he’d changed into a t-shirt and pajama pants. Was that next? Sleep?
As I approached him, he glanced over his shoulder, his eyes thoroughly roving over me from top to bottom.
“Your suitcase is over there on the chair,” he murmured, and now closer, I could see the tablet he held in his hands. “I figured you’d need to get something to sleep in.”
“Thanks,” I offered as I padded over to my luggage in the corner and located a slip.
I faced the wall to drop my towel and pulled the thin material over my head, believing to have a moment of privacy when I felt the heat of his frame on my back. He lifted my braid, pulled it through his fingers.
“I love your hair,” he rasped.
“Thanks.” I turned to face him.
Immediately, I took in his consuming fragrance. Ezra was freshly showered. There must have been another full bathroom on this massive plane. He definitely needed a shower to cool him down from rendering me boneless earlier. I still felt uneasy about that non-reciprocated act.
He lifted my hand in the air and kissed the back of it.
“Are you tired? It’s been a long day for you.”
“Just as long as it’s been for you.” He’d gotten married, too. “But I’m not as exhausted as I should be.”
How could I be after all…that?
“Good. Melody has prepared a special bedtime tea for us. We can have it in the main cabin and watch more of your romance movies.”
“What kind of special tea?”
“One that will give us at least nine hours of sleep to help endure t
his twenty-one hour flight. We have about seventeen more to go. I’m sure with the change in altitude and anxiousness about our destination, we could use the assistance with resting.”
“Oh,” My mouth balled contemplatively. “I didn’t know we’d be in the air that long. What are we going to do with all that time?”
“What newlyweds should do: relax, anticipate, and explore,” he murmured, taking me at the hand and leading me out to the comfy chairs.
As he informed, a tray of tea and accessories awaited us at the table. Ezra handed me the remote, insisting I choose a movie. I selected The Best Man, Morris Chestnut still in mind.
“How do you like your tea, beloved?” Ezra asked, pouring it into a small porcelain cup.
“Just lemon.”
He handed me the mug and we both settled into our seats, watching the screen. We had two cups before deciding we were done. My mind had begun to relax as I became absorbed by the movie, not caring that I’d seen the flick at least a dozen times. My body had begun to come down, too. I felt my muscles easing and limbs loosening, comfort engulfing me. The word ‘marriage’ no longer ringing in my head with an alarming shriek. The aftermath of three severe and unexpected orgasms freeing my mind temporarily. Ezra had made this evening about me without hesitation. Although it concerned me, he’d stayed true to his word…on the wedding and all. I felt a balm of peace hedging around me, strangely.
“Can I offer you two a blanket?” Melody softly offered.
Ezra’s eyes found mine, inquisitively.
“Just one, please,” I answered.
When she took off, I lifted from the oversized chair and toed over to Ezra, suddenly feeling needy, and mounted his chair to burrow underneath him. I caught his breath seizing in his chest at the gesture. I didn’t recognize the need either, but gave in to it. We shuffled until we found comfort. My limbs nearly as long as his, we made it work somehow. Melody returned with a freshly laundered blanket, spreading it on us completely. Ezra’s big hand raked over my ass and rested there as I buried my head into his hard chest, finding coziness like never before.
I awakened to a vibrating hum. After a few seconds I realized I’d fallen asleep on a plane—actually I fell asleep in the arms of a man, my husband. He must’ve put me in bed at some point. I glanced around the contemporary bedroom. The dent in the pillow next to me caught my attention. It smelled like him, but he was nowhere to be found. I padded into the bathroom to relieve my screaming bladder, and washed up before slipping on a tee shirt and yoga pants.
The moment I stepped out of the room, I ran into Melody. Her face was just as crisp as it was when we boarded, and her uniform just as starched.
“Oh, there you are.” She beamed. “He’s been waiting on you…refused to eat without you.” Ezra? “I’ll meet you in the main cabin to take your order,” she informed before continuing to the back of the plane.
As I approached the main area, I heard rhythmic strained grunts. The closer I grew, the louder it became. Then I found him on the floor, effortlessly executing full body sit-ups, his hands meeting the toes of his sneakers. Other than the chunters, his movements were smooth, exerting minimal effort. I watched, amazed into a stupor by his incredible physique, wondering why I hadn’t insisted that I indulged in all of that last night. Fuck! His muscles were in mass, rolling with each movement. Sweat coated him and I wondered was it inappropriate to ogle him at this point. Just then Ezra turned as though he sensed me.
“Morning, beloved,” his rasped vocals trembled. He hadn’t been awake very long. That intense morning rasp that I hadn’t heard from him, because I’d never experienced him so soon after awakening. He jumped into a standing stance and panted, “How are you feeling…” then his eyes narrowed in clarification, “…after sleeping on a plane overnight?”
Mechanically, I sucked in my bottom lip. “Ummmm… Good, I think,” I shrieked. I didn’t want to mention my current arousal.
No. I wouldn’t dare do that. That would be way inappropriate right now. I rubbed my goose bump-ridden arms.
Right?
“No,” Ezra snorted. “It’s perfectly natural…and pleasing, your reaction, beloved.” He grabbed his towels and the two weights near his spot and ambled past me, body completely glossed. “I’m going to shower. Feel free to order breakfast with Melody. I’m starved.”
My shoulders dropped when I heard the bedroom door in the rear slide shut. If I had only given this marriage thing more thought. He ate me out of my mind last night, and today I’m a dribbling horndog in his presence. I shook my head.
One day at a time, Lex. We’ll figure this shit out. I always did.
When Ezra emerged from the back, freshly showered and in cargo shorts and a white v-neck sweater that revealed that bubbly chest, he informed we had a few more hours to go. I didn’t know what I could do to pass the time. I couldn’t keep my mind clear of all things carnal regarding him. He smelled like sin. However, I wasn’t up to pretending to be into a movie when I couldn’t slow my mind enough to follow one. I was up in the air, with my husband—try saying that five times without stuttering—going to some land I couldn’t identify on a map—
Map! That’s right.
I could look up Indonesia. I went for my iPad on the floor, still in the same position it was where I left it.
“Would you like to join me in a game?”
I glanced up and saw Ezra managing pieces of a board game on a clear glass game board. By the look of the pieces, I could tell it was chess…or checkers. I could never differentiate between the two.
“Checkers?” I took a guess.
“Chess,” Ezra murmured, his eyes were engaged in lining up the pieces.
I shrugged. “Either way, I can’t play. Don’t want to mislead you.” I pulled out my device.
“I’d like to teach you, if you want to learn. It’s one of my most coveted hobbies.”
That last piece of information intrigued me, starkly. An opportunity to penetrate Ezra’s mind? Count me in!
“Okay. I’m game.” My pitch rose as I slapped my thighs and walked over to the table.
On my way, I caught the grin on his face, though he remained fixed to the board.
“You’ve never played?” he asked when I settled in the chair.
I shook my head, not being able to recall playing chess. I’d only seen the old men playing in the park.
“Chess is a thinking man/woman’s game.” He began. “Your best strategy is having an idea of your opponent’s personality. From there, you play and learn their processes.”
“What if you don’t know your opponent?” I asked, honestly. I didn’t know Ezra. I’d married a stranger and was still struggling to identify a personality in him.
Ezra searched my face. For what, I didn’t know. It made me uncomfortable, per usual, no matter how hard I fought to hide it.
“Then you use the game to discover the mind of him or her. Learn their strategy.”
“Let’s start with introducing the board. King.” He lifted the piece from the board. “The most important piece. Must be protected at all costs. If he falls—gets put into “checkmate”—the game is over. He may move in any direction but only one space at a time.” He moved to another. “The Queen is the most valuable piece. A cold blooded killer. She may move in any direction and can move as many spaces as she likes. Next are the two Bishops.” He pointed them out on the board. “They’re very conniving, often getting lost on the board. They can only move diagonally and must stay on the color they start the game on. Then there are the two Knights; tricky pieces as they only move in an “L” pattern. They must switch colors with every move.” He lifted a tower. “Two Rooks, aka Castles. They move horizontally or vertically and can move one or multiple spaces at a time.” He continued to the smallest of the group, “Pawn: there are eight. Consider them sacrificial lambs. They generally only move straight ahead, one space at a time, unless they are moving diagonally to claim another piece. The only time they are permitted to mo
ve more than one space is on their first move from their original starting spot.”
Ezra moved on to plays, having me demonstrate my memory of their moves. Quickly, I got caught up by the challenge of learning something new. Something that would hopefully give some insight into this cryptic man.
Ezra
“Beloved,” I called out softly to her. The sight of her long legs curled up in the chair reminded me of her feline nature and made me want to do things to her. Things that would certainly jolt her to consciousness. “We’ve landed.”
I watched fascinated as she stirred awake. It wasn’t until Jaru entered the cargo that I saw anything or one else.
“We’re retrieving your things from under the air craft, Carmichael,” he notified in Bahasa, for which I was grateful. There are over seven hundred languages spoken in Indonesia, this one being the most practiced and the one I knew best.
“Terima Kasih,” I thanked him then explained we’d need a few minutes to collect our things and would be right out.
Alexis finally rubbed her eyes. “Shit.” She blinked in succession.
“Please watch your mouth, dear.” I attempted civility.
She blanched her regrets. Deep down inside what bothered me the most about her language wasn’t hearing the words so much as detecting her laziness of not using more tactful ones to express herself. No worries. I had a plan to handle that. My dick jerked at the reminder.
Once we gathered our personal items, Alexis and I stepped off the plane and into virtually an open field of Kamigu, a small, self-contained private island located north of Bali. It was one of my favorite places on Earth and I’d hoped Alexis would enjoy it like I had countless times: It was her honeymoon after all. Though Indonesia wasn’t exactly the first place that came to mind when I quickly arranged for our nuptials, as time would have it, I was requested here by the Prime Minister of the island just two days after my proposal to Alexis. When I explained I’d be getting married soon and wouldn’t know when I’d be able to make it, Jarabu insisted we stay on his private island and enjoy the world-class services of his staff. I hadn’t expected that and I struggled with deciding for days, and reasonably so.