Maybe I faze out a little, because the next thing I'm aware of is the sound of a foil packet being opened, and Mindy’s kneeling between my legs, rolling a condom down my cock. She rolls over, spreading her legs and giving me a beseeching look.
I nod, climbing on top of her and lifting her hips, her eyes still fixed on my face as I line myself up. I push in, the feeling of her pussy again mind-blowing, and I feel something inside me as Mindy opens up doors to my heart and soul.
It’s not her body, as perfect as it is. It's in the way she looks at me, her eyes full of meaning. I bring my hands up to caress her breasts in gentle strokes. We move slowly, wanting this instant to last forever. The world outside doesn’t exist as I bend down and kiss her and begin to thrust in and out slowly.
Before, I’ve been aggressive, powerful, blurring the line between having sex and being greedy with her body. Part of it was the game—Mindy’s got a freaky side to her too, and we both enjoy it that way. But this isn’t the time for that. Instead, I’m gentle, trying to show her through my body the feelings that I’m too afraid to say. I see it reflected in Mindy as my fears are replaced with a warmth that builds in my chest as we kiss and look into each other's eyes. I kiss her deeply as our bodies move together, my cock rubbing over the places deep inside her with every thrust.
“Oliver . . .” Mindy whispers before words fail her and she moans incoherently. My hips speed up to give her what she needs. She wraps her legs around my waist, giving herself fully to me as we build, faster and harder. Our hips start to slap together, and I feel myself building toward a huge orgasm, my back flexing as her fingers claw at my skin. I want to give her everything I have, everything I am, but I can’t make words either, and all I can do is make sure she’s given everything I can give her.
My body is trembling, her pussy sending vibrations through me as we build higher and higher. Mindy’s shaking, and I squeeze her ass, on the edge myself. Suddenly, her eyes open wide, and she's there, crying out softly in a choked wail. With a final hard thrust, I come, filling the condom as I try to soothe the pain deep in my heart. She’s an angel, a fantasy, and I give all I can to her.
My body trembles as I hold Mindy afterward, sweat drying on my forehead as we lie looking into each other’s eyes. She’s still in so much pain, and I wish I could take it all away from her. “What is it?”
“Oliver . . . I love you,” she whispers, cupping my cheek.
I’m shocked, and my heart leaps in my chest. Is she for real? I want her to be, but how can we really feel this way? Finally, stuck, I tell her the truth. “Mindy, I love you too.”
She nods and gives me a little smile. I can see the question in her eyes, the same one I have. Is she caught up in an emotional moment, or are her words the truth? I know what I feel.
“Thank you,” she whispers and snuggles against me. Her breathing calms, and in minutes, I can feel her nod off. After she’s asleep, I give her a kiss on the forehead, still troubled.
I was telling her the truth. Crazy as it sounds, I was.
Was she?
Mindy
I can’t help but feel my pulse quicken as I hear the violins and flutes start up, the pre-ceremony music just as beautiful as I thought it would be. In fact, everything is as beautiful as I could have ever dreamed of. Everyone is dressed to perfection, all the women looking gorgeous in nice dresses and all the men in their suits or tuxedos. The flowers are perfect, the weather is perfect, everything is amazing. Even the sun and clouds are cooperating, with just enough puffy cotton balls in the sky to break up all the eye-watering blue without taking away from the impact of the sky and the ocean.
The procession music starts, and the priest comes down the aisle, his plump, cherubic face smiling over the top of his vestments and his Bible held to his chest reverently. After him comes John, who looks dashing and proud in his tuxedo, his face beaming as he looks forward to the next thirty minutes that will change the rest of his life.
Behind him are the flower girls, each of them looking innocent and joyful as they sprinkle white rose petals down the aisle. Their dresses fit just right, and their gold-trimmed baskets twinkle merrily as the musicians swing into the pause, building toward Mom’s big entrance.
“This is so beautiful,” Roxy whispers next to me on my left. She’s the prettiest I’ve ever seen her, and I almost can’t believe the angel sitting next to me is my little sister. “I can hardly wait!”
I nod, unable to form words, and I turn my head the other way to get a better view of the back of the church. As I do, I see Oliver, sitting on my right. He looks so handsome in his own tux, his bright eyes taking it all in, his jaw set, and he’s whispering something to himself as he takes it all in.
It’s the only flaw in this perfect day. Every time I look at him today, I feel sick. I know it’s drawing to a close. After tonight, what we have will be no longer. We don’t even have much time today. It’s Mom’s day. We’ll have the reception and party that’ll last to at least one in the morning, and we’ll spend all day with the family tomorrow. Both days, we’re going to go to sleep exhausted, and then Monday morning, we board the plane to go back to the real world again.
Who knows what’s going to happen then? I guess we could continue dating, and a part of me is hopeful we will. But there is no guarantee.
All day, I’ve had another image running in my head though. We go back to town, and I go back to work at the Beangal’s Den. He calls a few times, and maybe stops by the shop, but as we look at each other, we just know that the fantasy was just that, and our time is over. I found myself crying in the bathroom as I took a shower this morning because the image was so strong in my head.
Why couldn’t he see that I was serious last night when I said I love him? Was he just giving me a last little bit of fantasy? I gave him time to say more, but he didn’t. All I wanted was for him to say that he wants to see me at home, that we can make it work somehow. But he didn’t, and now . . .
“You okay?” Roxy asks, seeing the tears forming in my eyes. “It’s a lot, I know.”
“Yeah,” I agree quietly. “What’s taking Mom so long?”
“I dunno. I wonder if . . .”
“Hush, you two!” Grandma whispers. “I am not going to have this tarnished because my granddaughters can’t stop jabberjawing!”
Roxy gives me a smirk and I can’t help but smile a little. Grandma looks like she’s about to burst because she’s so happy. The musicians swing into The Wedding March, and we all stand as the doors in the back of the church open and Mom steps in with Aunt Rita.
“My goodness,” Roxy whispers, truly stunned, and I have to agree. Sure, we saw Mom in the dress just last night, but today, with her hair and makeup done, the lighting just right, and all the buildup . . . she’s more beautiful than I’ve ever seen her in my life.
Aunt Rita looks proud enough to burst herself in her dress, a pale apricot color that makes her look young and beautiful. They reach the altar, where Rita passes Mom over to John and steps back to her position on the side.
The preacher starts his speech, but to be honest, I stop paying attention. Instead, I think about Mom. She’s beaming, looking at John with her eyes lit up, the perfect bride. Despite whatever turmoil I’m feeling inside over my own life, I couldn’t be happier for her. She truly looks happy.
After Daddy’s death, she never crumbled. Even as Roxy and I mourned, even as the insurance money ran out and the costs mounted, she was our rock. She was the one who made sure enough of Daddy’s life insurance was set aside to pay for college for Roxy and me. She was the one who worked hard raising two daughters who were, in reality, not that easy to deal with. She sacrificed a lot for us, and though we may have never actually said it, we appreciate what she did for us and never want to disappoint her.