“Never,” I replied honestly. “You’re just as beautiful now as you were when we first made love in that wrecked airplane.”
“Speaking of which,” Robin said, lifting the shirt to just below her breasts, “I want to go back for our honeymoon.”
“What?” I asked, a little confused. “What do you mean?”
“Canada. I want you to take me back up there for our honeymoon.” Robin laughed, dropping the shirt and tweaking my nose. “I want you to take me where you wanted to that first time. Just you and me, and hopefully . . . ”
“Yes?” I asked, resting my hands on her thighs. I rubbed the firm skin with my thumbs, gathering what control I could.
“I was thinking it’d be really lucky if we made our first child up there,” she said, pulling her shirt off and revealing her glorious upper body to me. It is another way that Robin is amazing to me, the way she and I think along similar lines so often. I had been pondering the idea of having children, but I knew that Robin was so focused on building our robotics company that I didn’t know when to broach the subject.
“Then let’s go to Canada for months, if you want,” I said, reaching up and cupping her breasts. “But this time, we’re driving.”
My fingers playing with her nipples drove Robin crazy, and she couldn’t form an answer, although her hips pushing down harder on my cock seemed all the answer I needed. Pulling her back down on me, her nipple lined up with my eagerly sucking lips, licking and pulling the hard little nub deep into my mouth. Sucking and running my hands over her ass, we brought each other to the point of madness before she pushed off of me, desperately pulling at her pajama bottoms.
“Fuck me,” she moaned once she had her bottoms all the way off, barely giving me time to push my own pants down before she swung her leg over and mounted me cowgirl style. My cock sank deep into her wet depths as she impaled herself on me in one smooth motion. “Fuck me and give me everything you have.”
I couldn’t resist, not that I’d want to. Robin’s tanned skin glowed in the soft light of our bedroom while her hips moved back and forth, a soft sheen of sweat glistening on her spine and the firm, rounded globes of her ass. Robin put her hands on my thighs and rode me, her ass moving up and down, her pussy swallowing my cock over and over.
I don’t know what came over me, but my hand moved of its own will, reaching out and smacking her right butt cheek flatly, the skin reddening with the stinging crack. Robin paused and looked back, surprise and desire written on her delicate features. “Do it again,” she gasped, her hips starting up again.
Soon, the bedroom was filled with the echo of my hands smacking her ass while her hips smacked into mine. With each slap, our desire grew, until I couldn’t take it anymore and pulled her back on top of me.
“Now I really fuck you,” I growled, rolling us over and pulling her hips off the bed. My cock hammered into her, the warm red skin of her ass quivering. Robin turned her head to wail, her lustful cries driving me higher and harder until the sweat stung my eyes and my cock was burning for release. When her pussy clenched around me and her cries became the sharp, lustful growls that meant she was coming, I could hold back no longer. Our groans mixed, and I plunged myself as deep as I could, filling her with my come. My back crackled as I arched so hard that I thought I may have pulled a muscle. But all I could feel was Robin’s body, the bliss of our union , and the ecstasy that came from releasing myself in her.
Robin
The day of our wedding, everything was ready. We had originally wanted to do the ceremony at Gerald’s mansion, but as Wes and I planned, getting our parents out of the way so we could spring our surprise entrance would be too difficult to do without their knowing. Instead, we rented a large banquet hall at a country club, which just happened to be next to a golf course that we used for the ceremony itself.
Mom and Gerald were greeted at the entrance to the club by the manager, who was conveniently distracting our parents for us. They assumed we were already there, getting ready to walk down the aisle. Meanwhile, we were lifting off in a Blackhawk helicopter from the small, private airport ten miles away. The manager made some kind of excuse about the golf cart being screwed up, so they’d have to walk the half mile up to the banquet hall, giving us time to make our grand entrance.
When the helicopter was near the tenth hole, Wes told the pilot to hover at 5000 feet, discreetly far enough away that none of the guests were suspicious, until we were sure Mom and Gerald were both seated in their chairs. The altar was set up to look over the fairway for the first hole, a rather picturesque setting that had been used in a semi-famous movie about golfing years before. Wes closed his face mask and sent a signal to the Minister of the Wedding with some kind of transceiver. “All right, hit it.”