Bad Choices (Hypernaturals 8)

Mr. and Mrs. Olsen

Morgan's 'Tale of Three Dicks' took me out of my head about the unmitigated passion and how I hurt her back. The sex in the Honda sealed that deal. She did everything she promised and more. It was wild and intense, and mind-boggling. Neither of us used our pheromones because, I think, Morgan did not want to return Jessica's car to her and have Jessica instantly looking to get laid. The scent would linger for days, and that is not a thing to ambush someone with, even when you are married to them.

Despite that lack of pheromone booster, it was still amazing. Morgan read me like a paperback novel and kept me on the edge of nirvana without me having to try and do anything. Morgan was driving and she knows me as much as I know her.

It was amazing, and that is saying something after the previous day. Lust and love were inverted against the tree with lust winning. Now it was the other way. Both there, but love dominant this time.

We drove the rest of the way to Galveston naked. Tinted windows. Morgan told me she wanted to play with my body whenever it suited her, and I am only too happy to be her sex object. We do this in her car with the top down sometimes, to the delight of passing trucks.

While she played and drove, I asked: "Whenever Bobby and Mingzhu come to town, you going to take them up on their offer?"

Morgan played a few moments before answering. I am her sexual worry stone. "Perhaps. It depends."

"On?" I asked.

"Our spouses have to approve Bobby for me and Mingzhu for you. Those are the rules."

"Oh. Uh. What?" I did not expect to be included.

"'Whither though goest' works both ways and in a lot of situations." Morgan said. The smile on her face to that was somewhere between Buddha and cat that ate the canary. "Bobby and Mingzhu would also need to agree, but I think they would."

"Oh." I said, not sure how to respond to that.

"It is like that thing with DeWayne we have discussed. He is on my list, Carol is on yours. The only way that happens is a four or fivesome. Jessica will want to be there too."

"I see." And I know it was dubious because of Morgan's reply.

"No, you don't. You will. Maybe. Someday. No hurry. I will never again be with Bobby without YOU there, and if you are there, Mingzhu will be there too. That is how that would need to work out. It may never come to pass, and if it does not, that is not a thing I am requesting or asking for. Only saying it is a possibility."

The lobby of the Galvez is gorgeous. Opened in 1911, it had been restored to old-world elegance. The woods are dark and polished. The ceiling fans look original and authentic.

I have both our suitcases in hand. They are fairly large since we are not sure how long the Galveston operation is going to last. We both also have backpacks for electronics. Computers, chargers, camera's with long lenses, the works. We are ready for full PI mode.

Morgan made the reservation, so she is at the desk doing the checking in while I survey the lobby.

The young woman at the desk looked at the computer screen. "Yes. Mr and Mrs. Olsen. The Honeymoon Suite for a week. Lovely!" She typed for a few moments then asked: "How long have you been married?"

Morgan smiled at her question with rare open happiness. She loves to tell people about us. "For a few years now, but it feels like we just got married all the time. We knew each other for a while before that. It took me a while to catch him. He is very wiggly."

I know that to the clerk we look to be her age, but she raised her eyebrows at that. "High school sweethearts?"

Morgan looked at me, banked flames in those cobalt eyes that let me know she is not done with me. "Something like that. His brother introduced us. I have been after him ever since."

The young woman who is a real, actual young woman, not a Vampire who looks young, said in a low voice to Morgan not knowing I can hear: "He looks pretty caught now."

"He so is." Morgan agreed. A woman in her forties, talking about a man in his thirties, to a girl in her twenties, like we are all kids. Morgan is good at this acting young thing.

In the elevator on the way up, I pulled out my wallet and showed Morgan my driver's license. "Adrian Olsen?" she read, then looked at me, eyebrows up.

"Surprise, Mrs. Olsen. I told you a while ago: I am going to tell everyone I can we are married. I love saying that. I love calling you my wife. Both the wife part and the possessive 'my' part."

"You loved me so much, you took my last name." Morgan said, with suggestive warmth. "You know what, fangs? You keep fucking up the 'making love slowly' part of this trip. Now I want to screw your brains out again."

"I am sure we will get to that at some point." I told her receding back because she left the elevator at speed. She has the luggage now too. I followed in her wake.

Morgan opened the door to the bridal suite, tossed in the bags with some haste and lack of gentility, and then she waved me in. "At some point, we will get to it. Count on it. Right now, Mr. Olsen? Clothes off. On the bed. Now, please."

Someone came out of their room up the hall. Morgan waved at them in a friendly way. Went inside the suite, closed the door, and found me waiting naked.

"Oh. Very nice Vampire speed." She complimented me.

"I hyper-timed it to make sure I got undressed with maximum efficiency" I told her. "However, Mrs. Olsen, I am undressing you slowly because I have not gotten to unwrap my presents even once recently."

"Hurry the entire fuck up, Mr. Olsen. Your wife does not like to be kept waiting for her sex. Do you have any idea how long it has BEEN?" Morgan told me sincerely.

I think I am rubbing off on Morgan. She has said 'fuck' a lot on this trip. Could be Jessica or Helen. None of us are particularly shy with cussing, except around our little girls. Morgan: Not so much. Her language is rarely peppered with this much color.