Page 43 of Flying High

Epilogue

Dean

Oneyearlater....

Weddings are amazing.

I know, I know. Who even am I?

A man who’s seen the light. Hear me out. I have so many positive things to say about weddings. Firstly, they bring together so many people you know and love for the sole purpose of celebrating. What’s not to like about that? Can there ever be too much celebration of love? Good food, good wine, a bit of dancing.

Yes, please.

Everyone dresses up to some degree, and while wearing a suit isn’t novel for me, seeing Abbi decked out in finery usually means some sort of treat underneath said finery. It’s been my experience in the last year or so that fancy dresses equal just as fancy undergarments. Sometimes, it’s underwear so minuscule and seamless that it is barely there at all. Sometimes it’s complicated, and I can hardly get the frothy contraption off. Sometimes it’s impossible to remove, and it needs to be pushed to the side.

No complaints here.

And most importantly, if you’re lucky enough to have a partner who’s as adventurous as mine, there’s wedding sex to look forward to.

It wasn’t long ago that we had a wedding to go to nearly every weekend, and everyone seems to choose different and unusual venues, which I appreciate. It keeps me on my toes when considering where might be the best spot for a tryst with my sweet Abbi.

Today’s wedding is one of Abbi’s former Match X clients, David. He’s marrying the man of his dreams, and even though Abbi didn’t set them up, David credits her with helping him accept his truth and find true love. Lots of Abbi’s old clients have been in touch with her since she left. She really did have a knack for it, even though she’s moved on to greener pastures nowadays. The couple decided to get married in a contemporary art gallery, which is unusual, at least to me. But it’s been really interesting, and we’ve had lots to look at and explore in the moments between the ceremony and the reception, which starts soon.

I explored us right into a dark room at the back of the gallery, where art seemed to be stored. The walls were lined with giant close-up images of meadows. I wasn’t sure how I’d feel being surrounded by wildflowers and a couple of dairy cows, but I have to say, I highly recommend fucking in the great outdoors.

It’s not the first time we’ve done it.

I found a patch of bare wall between pictures, and discovered that Abbi’s outfit of a flirty blue cocktail dress called for a sheer bodysuit that has snaps in averyinteresting location. I hope I see this little number again. I was careful not to damage it when I turned her to face the wall and all but tore the thing apart to get to her wet heat.

From then on, it was a simple matter to free myself, already as hard as granite, and slip into her from behind. We’re good at keeping the noises to a minimum, channeling cries of pleasure into hard thrusts and firm clenches. This position has become a favorite too. There’s often limited space in the funny little rooms or spaces we sneak off to, and Abbi loves it when I have a free hand to do other wicked things to her. There’s nothing quite like thrusting inside her tight center with her tits overflowing from a tight neckline.

Fancy dresses rarely have pockets, so I’ve made it my business to come prepared for clean-up as well.I’m thoughtful like that.

But the best thing about weddings is that I get to spend time with my girl, and Abbi really is my girl. She’s the one, there’s no question about it. When people ask how we met, it’s our favorite joke to say through a dating agency. I mean, it’s true. Even if the dating agency’s software would never have put the two of us together because, according to Abbi, we were not a good match on paper, but there’s no denying the chemistry we have by the bucketload.

“God, I love you,” I whisper. I pull her closer and kiss the breath out of her until she’s dazed. I’m drunk on the feeling of her body close to mine. “Before we go back out, there’s just one small thing I should mention. I need a favor. For me.”

“Mm-hmm. Anything, my love,” she murmurs, pushing her hips lazily against me where I’m still planted deep inside her. She smiles up at me, and my heart trips.

“There’s a bunch of flowers I need you to catch.”

The End

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