Hungover, you ask?
I wrote it, it was awesome, and it hurt to give it up. Hungover. I wanted to write more. So, when I was presented with the opportunity (and honor) to write a little more of LTP for a cause, I jumped.
Donations are due Sunday, Oct 14th - a minimum of $5. Many of you know I am a pet lover, so this cause is very near and dear to me. Please consider donating! You'll get some great stuff!
In case you weren't convinced, please check out a teaser of the 'Love This Pain' outtake I'm planning on submitting. If you've read LTP, this is an outtake of Seth & Regan's Isle Esme honeymoon.
To donate, here is more info: http://fandom4causes.blogspot.com/2012/08/new-cause-stories4animals-info.html
This wasn’t the first sex we’d had as a married couple. I knew I’d barely be able to control myself once we got to the island, and I wanted our first union as an officially married couple to be something sweet and passionate and something Regan would always remember. We’d had a night alone at my house together before we left for the island, and that had been the night of intense lovemaking that I had always pictured on my wedding night.
Tonight however, was the night to get a little drunk and go all caveman on her. I mean, if not on the honeymoon, then when?
“Which bedroom?” I asked, letting her go long enough to playfully slap her ass through her sundress. I had her thrown over one shoulder like a sack of potatoes. She screamed through her giggles as I marched through the hallways, trying to pick a room to start our honeymoon in.
“The….the blue!” she managed to laugh as I held her over my shoulder. I tromped into the blue room and promptly dropped her on the bed where she collapsed in a fit of giggles. I poured her another glass of champagne before taking a long drag from the bottle and setting it on the nightstand. She sipped her glass and leaned back on the pillows like a princess with her lips pressed together and her dainty ankles crossed.
“What now?” I asked, standing at the foot of the bed with a smirk.
“Hmmm,” she hummed, eying me up and down. She pressed her pink lips together before taking a long drag of champagne. “Strip,” she stated simply, popping the ‘p’. I grinned. This was a game we played occasionally. Somehow Claire had gotten ahold of some movie about male strippers. Needless to say, the girls had watched it many times and practically had it memorized. Regan claimed it was only because the men in it reminded her of me; one in particular. I had rolled my eyes and played along, stripping off my clothes for her enjoyment. The first time I had done it and she had touched herself and watched me from the bed, well….from that point on I was a more willing participant in that game.
“Do married people strip for each other?” I teased, standing at the foot of the bed. She sipped her glass again and shrugged.
“I’m not sure they do.”
Regan’s head fell to the side as she gave me a woeful, pleading stare. “We can,” she pleaded. “Now strip. Like in Magic Mike.”
I groaned but caught myself eventually laughing. Regan chewed her lip and wrinkled her nose in excitement as I reached behind me and flipped on the stereo. I punched a few buttons before finding some kind of weird, exotic sounding techno music that was most likely local. It was strange, but had a good beat and would do the trick well enough. I gave her my best sultry look as I removed my watch and let it fall to the floor with a thump.
I saw her toes curl against her sandals.