Honeymoon confessions

ch. 11

Justin only smiled as she complained about her hair. After a while, as he predicted, she began enjoying it. He loved to see her smile. That same smile had healed many of his wounds, her words soothed his soul like smooth jazz on a lovely evening and the passion she put in loving him was more outstanding than he ever knew could exist. No man or woman in his history possessed such characteristics that's why his encounters with Michelle still not only taunted him, but baffled him. She was like a cavity that just won't stop aching, a dog that won't stop barking; both are very unbearable. He tries to push her away every time but she has a way of toying with his mind. When he's with her he losses all common sense, almost like she charms him into old memories they shared.

Yet earlier that morning, when Shandell left him alone with his thoughts, a certain type of ego washed over him. He felt his old player ways arising and with that came the feeling of accomplishment that he could have two beautiful women at once without getting caught. Once again, soon after that, regret consumed his being but will that regular appearance of guilt defer him from his wicked, unfaithful ways? He would like to find out himself.

Their time at the pool was cut shot as an unbearable feeling took over. As she run out of the pool, the sight of her curvaceous body in her red bikini caused a very familiar sensation to consume not only he but other men around. He had to have her. His sub conscience kept whispering to him that the need to be inside her was his way to remind himself he still had her and that was exactly what he did.

It wasn't any sweet love making. The side that Michelle spoke of, the side she tried so hard to remind him off, the side he wanted to keep hidden because he wanted Shandell to see him in a different light came out. His thrusts where ruthless and so was the way he held her. She felt the claim he was laying on her and took it all in.

Shandell was neither ignorant nor naïve. She had heard rumors about Justin way before she met him and they increased after everyone found out about their relationship. She knew he was the rough type. He like taking control of every situation; like a king. He was raised to believe he was one and embodied it in every way and that was a main reason she was shocked he hadn't put that type of power in their sex life. Once when they had sex on the piano, she witnessed a little bit of the beast that lived inside and loved it. She wasn't going to remind him of his fantasies because that was probably part of the change, he promised her but, in all honesty, which woman didn't enjoy being held in a way such that it was almost punishing, in a sense that he wanted her to know how sexually frustrated they made them, like they needed all of them at that very instant. Not all the time but sometimes and that afternoon, that was exactly what she got.

She moaned loud and honestly, hoping she he got the picture. She wanted him to know she was accepting of what he was bringing. Together, they will later dance to each other's tune, pleasing themselves and fulfilling a bit of each other's fantasies; their own euphoria. Both made sure every listening ear heard their interaction of love.

Justin smirked as he laid in bed. Their naked bodies dripped in sweat; the outcome of crazy sex. Each breath he smelt like sex and he enjoyed it. He got her message loud and clear. The way she held him tight to her body when she orgasmed showed her acceptance and the effort, she showed in trying to push him away showed his strength. The strength he put in introducing her to his world. That was his plan-introduce her to a world full of bliss, sexual gratification in a way that even if she suspected him of anything, she would be drawn back.

He gently pushed her aside, rolled off the bed and into the to the bathroom to handle his business. As he washed his hands, he got caught up in his reflection. His beautiful gray eyes were darker and so were his features. He recognized this side of him. It was the side which arose anytime he was with numerous women at the same time-the look which matched his perfect player outlook. An outlook which developed after he felt he had lost Michelle forever. It was almost comical how she was the very one to awaken that part of him. He rinsed his face with cold water. When he raised his head to his reflection, he saw an image of Michelle on his left with red horns on her head. "Fuck off."