Womanized

by Nikki Crescent

  Now that they’re married, Janie is acting strange. She’s been secretive for the week leading up to their honeymoon. When Liam shows up unannounced at her house the night before their flight, he excited to see a suitcase full of naughty lingerie—and then he’s worried when he sees something long and hard with a strap about the size of Janie’s waist packed away.

  CHAPTER I

  A few of my friends didn’t come to my wedding. When I phoned them to ask why I didn’t get their RSVPs in the mail, they all said a similar version of the same thing: ‘You shouldn’t marry her. You’re making a big mistake.’

  But they didn’t even know Janie. None of the friends who bailed on my wedding had ever met Janie. In fact, most of them didn’t even know about her until they received their wedding RSVP—maybe that’s why they were so bitter.

  Even my brother—my best man—tried to talk me out of marrying Janie—on the day of the wedding. “You should take some time to reconsider,” he said. “It’s not too late. People will understand. And if Janie really loves you, she will understand too.”

  I didn’t even bother replying. I was sick of people telling me that Janie wasn’t right for me, because Janie was the best thing that ever happened to me.

  And she was way out of my league—like way, way, way out of my league. She was a tall, gorgeous blonde with amazing legs and the most incredible breasts I’d ever seen—though to be fair, her breasts were the only breasts I’d ever seen in person. She was my first: my first kiss, my first date, my first fuck, and my first girlfriend. She worked as a model, appearing in actual magazines and TV commercials. She couldn’t put on a swimsuit without making every male face within a mile dark red. And she wanted to spend her life with me—so badly that she was technically the one who proposed to me. Who could say no to such a vixen?

  It took me a while to figure out why she wanted to be with me. I was short and skinny and most of my clothes were the clothes that I was wearing back in high school. I didn’t have a great job and I’d flunked out of college. When I met Janie I was still living with my parents. In fact, I was still living with my parents when we got married. The day before I met Janie, my dad told me, “You’re never going to meet a nice girl unless you get your life figured out.” Boy, was he wrong! I had nothing figured out, yet I had the best girl any guy could ever ask for.

  Though I did spend a great deal of time trying to figure out what it was that she saw in me. I knew that she could have any guy she wanted, including the outrageously handsome men she occasionally modelled with, or one of the famous photographers that were always calling her and begging her to model for a shoot. She could have had one of the film directors that were always sending scripts in the mail, even though Janie didn’t have an acting background. She could have had one of the talent agents that were always showing up at our door, begging her to sign with them. She could have had one of the famous movie stars that were always buzzing towards her at the fancy parties she went to on a regular basis. But instead, she chose me.

  I figured it was my wit. My friends had always considered me ‘the funny one’. And I wasn’t a bad looking guy either. Back in high school, girls would always call me ‘cute’, though I was never sure if that was a compliment or a jab. Maybe Janie just saw something in me that I didn’t even see in myself. Was it really so hard to believe that a beautiful, successful woman would want to be with me?

  I nearly fainted when I saw her coming down the isle at our wedding. She was stunning in that tight white dress. I will admit that I took a moment to look down at her bouncing breasts as she made big strides in those tall heels. She was radiant and her smile was precious. She looked into my eyes and I nearly looked away, suddenly overwhelmed and intimidated.

  I kept looked over during our wedding to see my friends looking at me with strange looks, trying to figure out why a girl like her would want to be with a girl like me. When I went to the bathroom during our reception, I overheard one of my cousins talking to another cousin. “Maybe she’s got some sort of mental condition,” he said. “Or maybe she’s like mostly blind. You know, it’s pretty impressive what some blind people can do these days. I was working with a guy for two years before I learned that he was almost completely blind.” But Janie wasn’t blind.

  “Maybe she thinks Liam has lots of money,” said my other cousin. But I knew that she knew I was broke. She knew I lived with my parents, and she knew that my parents had no money either.

  “Did I hear that best man speech correctly?” one of the cousins asked. “Did he say that they’ve only known each other for three months?”

  “Yeah—that’s what he said. They don’t even live together.”

  “There’s something weird going on there.”

  I stayed in the bathroom stall until the cousins were gone. Then I slipped out and looked at myself in the mirror. I didn’t think I looked so bad. Why was it so hard to believe that Janie would pick a man like me? And why was I starting to worry about it?

  She was on the dance floor when I returned to the reception. Her gaze met mine and she smiled. She waved me over, so I went to dance with her, just as a slow song came on. I wrapped my arms around her and looked deep into her eyes. Then, as we started to sway, I asked, “Why me?” My heart skipped a beat.

  Her eyes narrowed. “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “Why me? Why did you pick me to be the one?” I asked. I kept my voice low so that no one nearby would hear.

  “Because I love you,” she said. “And because we’re going to have so much fun together.” She smiled. That smile was radiant and beautiful and heart melting. I believed her. I pulled her in close and I nearly got an erection from the feeling of her big tits pressing against my chest. I could feel the gazes of my friends watching us as we danced. Maybe they were judging me, or maybe they were just jealous. It didn’t matter. I would prove all of them wrong. I would show them all that Janie and I were made for each other.

  CHAPTER II

  We had an apartment rented on the west side of town. We wouldn’t get the key until the end of the month, after our honeymoon, so we continued to live apart after our wedding—just for a couple of weeks. I spent the odd night at her house, though it was difficult because she only had a twin bed and she always had to get up early in the morning to get to sets or to catch flights for modeling gigs abroad.

  My parents thought it was strange that I was still living with them, even though they knew that we weren’t getting our new apartment until the end of the month. Whenever I would come back from Janie’s house, my mom would ask, “Is everything okay?” And I could tell that, like my friends, they were just waiting for the day that I said, ‘Janie broke up with me’. They didn’t have faith in our love—apparently no one did but Janie and me.

  My mom helped me pack for my honeymoon. “Where are you going again? Cambodia? Is that really safe?” she asked as she carefully folded my swimming shorts, even though I was just planning on cramming them into my tight suitcase.

  “We’re not going to Cambodia, mom. We’re going to Thailand. It’s perfectly safe.”

  “It sounds dangerous.”

  “It’s really not.”

  “Why don’t you just wait a few more months, and then go,” she said. I looked at her curiously.

  “Why?” I asked. I couldn’t wrap my head around her logic. Did she think that Thailand would be safer in a few months? Or did she think that Janie and I would break up before the end of a few months?

  “I just want you to be safe,” she said. And I was starting to realize that what my mom meant by ‘safe’ was, she didn’t want me being too far from home when Janie would inevitably break my heart.

  “Don’t worry mom. It’s going to be fine. I’ll send you some pictures,” I said. I zipped up my bag as I felt my pocket vibrate. I had a message from Janie. She was home from her business trip. “I’m packing my bag now. Excited to leave tomorrow?” she asked.

  Instead of replying to the text message, I deci
ded to go over to Janie’s house to surprise her. I figured we could spend the night together before the two weeks we were about to spend together. I picked up my suitcase, kissed my mom on the cheek, and then I raced towards the door. “I’ll see you in a couple of weeks,” I said.

  “Please be safe!” she shouted at me. And then I got into my car and zipped across town to Janie’s house. I ran up to the door with my suitcase in hand and I rang the bell. It took her a minute to answer. She was wearing sweatpants and an old white t-shirt. Her makeup was washed off and her wet hair was tied up in a messy bun. She looked at me with wide eyes. “What are you doing here?” she asked.

  “I thought I would surprise my wife before our big trip,” I said. I reached into the front pocket of my suitcase and I pulled out the bottle of champagne that I’d picked out that afternoon. It wasn’t the fanciest bottle, but it was all I could afford. Janie remained still in the doorway, looking slightly pale, as if she’d been taken off-guard. “Well? Can I come inside?” I asked.

  “Um,” she said, looking back. She looked awkward and nervous. “I’m all shabby. And the place is a mess. I didn’t know that you were coming over. I thought we were just going to meet at the airport.”

  My heart stuttered. Was she hiding something from me? Did she have another guy over? Did she have many husbands scattered around the city? Was she some sort of con artist, or maybe a serial killer? I leaned over and tried to get a look into her flat. She leaned over to block my view.

  “Should I go home?” I asked, feeling suddenly heartbroken. My own wife didn’t want to spend the even of our honeymoon together.

  Janie hesitated. She looked back again, and then she said, “Just hold on one minute.” She closed the door, leaving me standing alone on her doorstep, still with that bottle of champagne in my hand, feeling like a complete loser. Maybe my friends were right. Maybe Janie was just using me somehow. Maybe she knew about some legal trick that would make me into her wage slave for the rest of my life. Maybe she picked me because she knew that I would be easy to manipulate.

  The door opened and Janie stepped aside. “Come on in,” she said. I stepped into her flat carefully. I looked around. The place wasn’t a mess. In fact, it was cleaner than usual. “Go have a seat on the couch. I’m just going to finish packing in the other room.”

  “I can help,” I said.

  “No—I’d really rather you sat on the couch,” she said. “I’ll be out in ten minutes—fifteen at the most.”

  I walked over to the couch as she went over to the bedroom. She looked back at me for a moment before slipping through the door. I took a deep breath. My heart was pounding and my hands were trembling. Was there a guy in that room? Was he currently getting dressed so that he could sneak out the window? Was I being played?

  I couldn’t even begin to wrap my head around how she could have been playing me. She was the one who paid for most of our wedding, and she was the one who had financed our honeymoon with her big modelling bucks. If anything, I was the one playing her. She was even the one who paid for the deposit on our new apartment. She was going to be paying for our rent and our bills until I found a half-decent job.

  And if the relationship didn’t work out, that would be embarrassing for her as well. Her family was at the wedding. Her mother cried during the ceremony and her brother gave me a death glare the moment before I said, ‘I do’. There was no way that she was prepared to let them all down. She had just as much invested in this relationship as me—more, if you count her bank account. So what the hell was going on?

  I looked at my watch. How long had I been sitting on that couch for? Had it already been fifteen minutes? What was taking so long? What was she actually doing in that bedroom?

  I quietly stood up. I took a deep breath and then I carefully started walking towards that bedroom door. What was my wife trying to hide? Was there a dead body in there or something? I gently grabbed the door handle. Then I took another deep breath.

  I pushed the door open slowly and quietly. Once there was enough room, I stuck my head through and peered into the room. Janie had her back to me. She was oblivious to my presence. There were two large suitcases on the ground, both open. One was filled with colourful dresses and bathing suits, and the other was filled with little sheer outfits, lacy garments, and lots of straps and satin. I even saw a few pairs of strappy heels poking up from that sea lingerie. And there was something else poking up: the tip of a long purple dildo. I gasped at the sight of it, and then Janie spun around and saw me. “What are you doing?” she snapped.

  “I—I’m sorry. I just wanted to see what you were doing in here,” I said.

  She quickly slammed the suitcases shut. “I told you that I was packing,” she said.

  “I’m sorry. But why can’t I see?” I asked.

  She took a deep breath and let out a long sigh. She shook her head and stepped towards me, blocking my view of her bedroom. She stopped right in front of me and looked into my eyes. “Because it’s supposed to be a surprise, you idiot,” she said. She kissed my lips, making my heart stammer and melt. Now I felt like a real loser. Why didn’t I just trust her? Why did I let myself get so worked up? Why was I letting the doubt of my friends and family members seep into my brain?

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “It’s fine. Just give me another minute,” she said. She playfully shoved me back and then she closed the door in my face with a little giggle.

  It took her longer than a minute, but that’s because she was doing more than just packing after I returned to the couch. It was five minutes later when she emerged from the bedroom, no longer in her sweatpants and white t-shirt. She still had her wet hair tied in a bun, but now her body was clad in a sheer teddy one-piece. The little outfit squished her soft breasts down and flattened her nipples. “W—Where did you get that outfit?” I asked. I wasn’t sure what else to say.

  “With most of the lingerie shoots I do, they let me keep the outfits,” she said with her sexy smile. She walked over, one leg in front of the other as if she was modelling for a shoot. Then she sunk down to her knees between my legs. She reached for my fly and she teased down the zipper. She looked up into my eyes with that amazing smile. Then she slipped her slender fingers in and fished out my cock. She started sucking, bobbing her head with an erotic rhythm, stroking my shaft with her hand whenever her lips were puckered around my tip.

  I let out a long, elated breath of air. “That feels good,” I said.

  “Get ready for lots of this in Thailand,” she said with a big grin.

  And I couldn’t fight back the smile. I was a virgin just three months before that moment. Now, I was getting ready to fly across the world with my beautiful model of a wife, and we were going to have sex like fertile bunny rabbits every single day. I felt like I was dreaming. I felt like the last three months were all a dream that would inevitably end at any moment. I didn’t want it to end. I wanted the dream to carry on.

  Though I knew it wasn’t really a dream, because even in my craziest dreams, I didn’t get with girls like Janie. Even in my dreams, Janie was out of my league. “I love you,” I said as she sucked my long rod.

  She looked up at me with those precious eyes. “I love you, too,” she said. Then she stood up, climbed onto my lap, and that’s when I noticed the opening between her legs; the lingerie was designed with a pussy access hole for easy fucking. She stood my cock upright and then sat down on it slowly. Her cunt was warm and wet and immaculately tight. I groaned as her lips puckered down the length of my cock. She moaned gently and then she started to bounce slowly.

  “I’m so sorry,” I said. “But I’m not going to last very long.” I could feel that my face was red. I don’t know why I warned her—I never lasted long with her. Sex never went more than five minutes, including foreplay. I’d tried a number of techniques that I had read about online, to make myself last longer, but none of them worked. Janie was just too beautiful. She was too wet and too tight and too warm and too
perfect. And she didn’t seem to mind my quick cumshots.

  “Just come inside of me, baby,” she said, putting her hands gently on my shoulders. She continued to bounce slowly up and down. “Don’t hold back.” She closed her eyes and smiled. But I didn’t want to close my eyes. I didn’t want to look away from her perfection. I sunk my fingers into her sides and I tried to clench back the intense euphoria that was swelling between my legs.

  Seconds later, I was filling her tight cunt with my hot load. She let her head fall back as she let out a soft groan. She kept her eyes closed. She ran the tip of her tongue from one end of her bottom lip to the other. Then her body shuddered and she let a little elated giggle slip out from her lips. She finally opened her eyes again. She looked down at my body with a smile and said, “We’re going to have a lot of fun in Thailand.”

  CHAPTER III

  We got to the airport early and got our bags checked right away. The attendant at the bag check put the tags on our bags and then told us to bring our bags over to the conveyor belt, so they could be shipped off to our plane. There was a line-up to get bags onto the belt. “I’ll wait here,” Janie said. “Why don’t you go find us some coffees?”

  “Sure,” I said. I gave her a kiss and then I went in search of coffee. It was surprisingly hard to find a café in that airport departures terminal. I walked up and down the hallways, and eventually found an airport staff member. “Excuse me—where would I find a place to buy a coffee?” I asked.

  “You can either go downstairs to arrivals, or you can go through security. There are a number of options by your gate,” she said. “But if you buy a coffee here, just know that they will make you dump it out at security.”

  “Of course,” I said, remembered that that’s how airports worked since 9/11. So instead of buying coffees, I went and returned to Janie at the baggage drop-off. As I walked up, our bags were headed down the belt.