7 Years Bad Sex (2 page)

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Authors: Nicky Wells

BOOK: 7 Years Bad Sex
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‘Night, guys,’ he threw over his shoulder.

‘Night, Myles,’ Casey and Alex echoed in unison.

Alex turned to his bride. ‘Phew. Alone at last.’

‘Alone at last,’ Casey confirmed. She smiled widely. ‘Wasn’t it the most divine day?’

‘It certainly was. And the best is yet to come.’

Alex pulled Casey into his arms. The swell of her breasts against his chest made his pulse race. Seeing her cleavage all day without being allowed to touch had been an exquisite torture, but now he was ready to take what was his. He dipped his head and planted a series of kisses along the plunging neckline of Casey’s dress. Casey shuddered and wriggled.

‘Is that so?’ she breathed.

‘Is what so?’ Alex was mentally undressing Casey, stripping off layers and layers of exquisite but inconvenient wedding dress fabric until she stood before him in all her naked glory, and he had lost the conversational plot.

‘You said the best was yet to come,’ Casey reminded him. ‘I wonder what you might be talking about.’

‘Want me to show you?’

Without waiting for an answer, Alex swooped Casey off her feet and carried her along the deck, determined now to reach their cabin.

‘Wait, wait! Not so fast,’ Casey protested. ‘Hang on a moment. I want to memorise all this.’

Alex obediently stopped.

‘Put me down,’ Casey pleaded. ‘I’m too heavy for you.’

‘You’re not,’ Alex replied automatically, but he set her down anyway.

‘Look at it all.’ Casey made a sweeping gesture with her arm, taking in the upper deck festooned with fairy lights, the wide sea glittering silver in the moonlight, the distant twinkle of lights on the shore. She sighed happily. ‘It’s so perfect. I wish I could package it up it and store it forever.’

‘You’re doing that, aren’t you? Memorising it?’ Alex couldn’t quite follow.

‘I am, but I wish I could make it real. You know, something to take out and touch, and feel, and hear all over again when I want to.’

‘We have the wedding video,’ Alex reminded her.

‘Very true.’ Casey smiled. ‘But that’s still not what I mean. Anyway… it’s probably the drink speaking. It was perfect, and I don’t want it to end.’

‘Tell you what,’ Alex mused out loud. ‘We could always come back out here with a glass of bubbly afterwards and talk the night away until the sun rises.’

He didn’t need to explain what he meant by
afterwards
. ‘Oh, now there’s an idea,’ Casey enthused. ‘You don’t think the crew would mind?’

‘I should think they’d be fast asleep by then. After all, we’re supposed to set sail for Spain in the morning.’

‘Go on, then,’ Casey gushed, as if suddenly possessed by a second wind. ‘Let’s be Mr and Mrs Morgan at last.’ She smiled and beckoned at Alex like a wanton sex goddess. ‘Take me to thy lair, man.’

‘My wish is your command,’ Alex quipped. He made to pick Casey up again, but quick as lightning, she slipped off her shoes, gathered up her dress, and set off running along the gangway. ‘Catch me if you can!’

‘Oi! Wench!’ Alex shouted after her, allowing her a few seconds’ headstart before giving chase. Man, he loved this woman and all her crazy traits.

He had known that she was his kind of girl when she had suddenly materialised from out of nowhere on the stage in that pub all those years ago. He had been quietly dying at the drums, listening to their latest trial lead singer butchering song after song. He smiled while he thought back to that moment.

‘We’ll never make it like this,’ he had seethed, bashing the cymbals to vent his anger. ‘Something’s got to happen, or we’ll have to call it a day.’ And right at that moment, something happened.
Casey
happened.

‘Excuse me, mate,’ she said to the hapless singer. ‘You’re awful. They’re definitely not loving you out there. Let me have a go.’ The crowd cheered and clapped, and Casey wrestled the microphone out of the singer’s hands.

Security appeared on stage to take Casey away, but Alex motioned for them to leave her alone. Obviously he hadn’t even known her name then, but there was something about her. Besides, that level of spunk deserved a try at the mic.

‘Right guys, show me what you can do,’ she taunted the band. ‘How about some real rock?’

Myles shrugged, feigning indifference but evidently delighted at the turn of events. He strummed a few chords that morphed into the intro to Guns N’ Roses’ ‘Sweet Child o’ Mine’. The out-of-the-blue-woman punched the air with her right fist, assumed ‘the stance’, and launched herself into the vocals with gusto. She brought the house down, and Alex knew that he had to have her. As his lead singer, that was, not as his girlfriend. That came later…

‘And now she’s my wife,’ Alex concluded with pride as he loped after his bride. He managed to catch the hem of her dress in his hands and held fast. Casey stopped short, nearly tripping over, laughing wildly.

‘You caught me.’

‘Again! I’m a lucky man.’

They had reached the door to the cabin, and Casey pushed it open with her elbow. ‘Shall I make you really lucky?’

‘You’re doing that eyebrow thing,’ Alex said. ‘I daresay you’ll make me incredibly lucky.’

‘What eyebrow thing?’

‘That thing where one of your eyebrows goes up to your hairline, and you look like a wicked school mistress.’

‘I what? Never!’ Casey screeched and dashed to the mirror. ‘I don’t see it.’

‘Of course you don’t,’ Alex tried to calm her. ‘It’s a fleeting thing, but you do it a lot, and it usually means my luck is in.’ He was slightly breathless after their little run, and he fumbled to undo his bowtie and the top button of his shirt.

‘He’s hot under the collar,’ Casey teased. ‘How sweet.’

‘Not just the collar.’

‘That’s good news. However, the bad news is…’ Casey turned her back to Alex. ‘…you’ll have to undo these thirty-six buttons first.’

Alex looked at the delicate, fabric-covered buttons and groaned. ‘That’s going to take forever.’

‘I’m in no hurry.’

‘Hmm,’ Alex mumbled. He was finding it hard to concentrate on undoing the buttons. His fingers were like jelly, and each button seemed to take an eternity.

‘Are you sure I can’t rip the rest off?’ Alex enquired when he was about halfway down. ‘It would be quite romantic, don’t you think? Husband ravishes wife on wedding night and all that.’

‘No,’ Casey objected. ‘This gown cost a fortune. I’ll never own anything as expensive ever again, and I want to preserve it. For, you know, when we renew our vows in twenty years, or maybe even for one of our daughters to wear, should she choose to.’

‘Renewing vows,’ Alex mumbled. ‘I like the sound of that. And I like the sound of daughters even more—if we can ever get round to making one!’

‘Nearly there,’ Casey spurred him on. ‘I can almost wriggle out of it now.’ She gave her hips a little shake, and all of Alex’s frustration melted away at the sight of the blue lacy knickers peeping through the gap in the fabric that his meticulous unbuttoning efforts had created. He swallowed hard. Even though they had made love hundreds of times before, he suddenly felt like this was their first time.

‘This is so weird,’ Casey broke into his thoughts with a giggle. ‘It’s like we’ve never done this before. Everything is weird.’

Alex turned her around so he could look her in the eyes again. There they were, the emerald gems that had captured and held his heart. He kissed Casey’s nose.

‘Weird bad, or weird good?’ he prompted.

‘Just weird. Must be wedding nerves or something,’ Casey joked. ‘Exciting, though.’ She wriggled her body some more and shook the dress off her shoulders. With a soft swish, it slid down her side, over her hips, and gathered in a pool of silken delicateness at her feet.

‘You’re standing in a pool of moonlight,’ Alex whispered. ‘Hold that thought. Don’t move.’

He looked around frantically for something to write on—something,
any
thing—and noticed a desk by the far wall of the cabin.
Surely it would hold some stationery?

Crossing the floor in three giant steps, he rummaged in a drawer until he found a notepad and a pen. Without bothering to sit down, he scribbled furiously for a few minutes, reading out to Casey what he was writing.

‘Sorry,’ he apologised over his shoulder when he was nearly done. ‘A new—’

‘A new song, I know.’ Casey’s voice was sweet as honey. ‘And that’s what I love about you.’

‘You know me so well. We should get married,’ Alex grinned as he straightened up. His next joke died on his lips when his eyes fell on Casey, now reclining on the bed. While he had been making notes, she had stepped out of her gown and arranged herself for him in all her naked glory, exactly as he had dreamed. She was on her side, her head propped on one hand, the other arm tucked behind her back. There was the hint of a tan where her skin had been exposed to the sun during the day. The glow served to highlight the milky creaminess of Casey’s body as though she was wearing a dress in reverse. Her nipples were pink and taut like rosebuds, and Alex could barely contain himself.

‘Hello there,’ Casey purred. ‘Ready to join me at last?’

Alex nodded but didn’t speak. He undid his belt and buttons so that he could get out of his trousers. He began undoing his shirt but didn’t have the patience to deal with any more buttons, so he tugged hard until they pinged off with a satisfying ripping sound.
It’s only a dress shirt
, he reasoned with himself.
Easy to replace, unlike Casey’s gown.

Casey wolf-whistled her approval. ‘Atta boy, don’t hold back now!’

Undressed at last, Alex lunged onto to the bed, landing next to his wife with confident panache. She snuggled in to him eagerly, and he bent his head to kiss her properly. Her lips tasted of strawberries, and he sucked greedily. Casey responded like for like and ground her hips into his groin. He ran a hand down her back, and she moaned with pleasure. Then he turned his attention to her breasts.

‘Are you ready?’ he whispered into her ear.

‘I’m ready,’ Casey whispered. She smiled widely and he rose above her, poised for action. And then—

Nothing.

 

~Casey~

 

Casey had felt it building for some time. She couldn’t quite understand what was happening to her, but nonetheless, there it was. She had fought it valiantly—thought excited thoughts, mentally hurried Alex on—and yet, as he was poised to join her, she couldn’t hold it back any longer. She erupted into the most almighty yawn. Her jaws dropped open as if they were spring-operated, and tears rolled from her eyes while she gulped for air, waiting for the yawn to play out—unable to speak, unable to think, mortified, panicked at what Alex would say, think,
feel
, at this sexual faux-pas, and yet utterly unable to stop.

‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered feebly when the yawn had finally let go of her. She felt flat, spent. All desire for sex had vanished. ‘I’m so sorry.’

 

~Alex~

 

Nothing.

Alex could feel beads of sweat springing up on his forehead. He had
never
laid down on the job before.
Never
.

He pushed himself a little higher on his elbows, raising his hips away from Casey, and sneaked a peek down to his nether regions. He didn’t really need visual confirmation, but he sought it anyway. And there he was, flaccid and limp and utterly useless. He felt sick all of a sudden. And spent. And worried.

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