CHERRY BLOSSOMS // Revised // Cherry Blossoms // 1.6

Angie’s aunt Stella laughed so hard she almost spilled her wine. When she got it together, she said, “I don’t care what you do, but you better not tell the boys!”

Angie’s cousin, Gracie, said, “Ma, stop it. It’s not a thing. Don’t worry about it.”

“This is our private party, we’ll do whatever we want,” Angie said, then, when it got quiet, “but no harm keeping it from the boys.”

That got a big laugh. They were at Giuseppe’s in Vaughan, Stella’s brother’s restaurant. It was all women tonight. Angie and her cousin, Angie’s mom, Stella, two other moms, Donna’s sister, two of Donna’s cousins, and five girls they knew from York. They were loud, and they all wanted a stripper for the bachelorette. None more than the four oldest women.

The debate was: do you tell the boys? If Donna’s Joey found out that his bride to be had a stripper at her party, word was that he wouldn’t be happy. A lot of the other girls chimed in, saying what their boyfriends or husbands would do if they found out there was going to be a naked man. It became like a contest then, each subsequent account of what their jealous ultra-male would do to another man to prove his ownership over his woman. They were proud of that extreme possessiveness. They were still going to get a stripper, though.

One of the girls from York said, “Peter would cut the guy’s dick off and shove it down his throat for showing it to me.” That got the biggest laugh. It was a showstopper.

When Angie looked at Nia, she smiled and said, “Geoff would want me to have a good time.” For her friends that knew Geoff, that was the real showstopper. Then they had to whisper to their friends or the older ladies that Nia had married a nice white kid.

This was their third bachelorette planning session. One each month now leading up to the wedding in July. These had become a get-together, not too much planning, but this was the crunch. They had their day mapped out, the venue taken care of. Nia had been in charge of invitations and she had mailed those and received RSVPs. Tonight was about details and drinking and eating. But Nia couldn’t drink because she had to drive all the way back into the city.

So, the itinerary for June 24th was a full day of fun and mild debauchery with Donna and the guests, starting with a lunch at Scarpa’s, then massages and a spa treatment for twenty provided by Donna’s cousin Maria who owned a day spa. Afterwards there was a three-pub pub crawl, transportation via Sprinter service. Then, the surprise part: rendezvous here at Giuseppe’s for a private function where they could do their gift exchange, more partying and drinking, a live band, and for the finale, one male stripper, please. Full nudity was the consensus.

***

Nia didn’t get home too late. It was 11 P.M. when she pulled the Volvo into their short driveway, her headlights lighting up the brick wall of the garage that was now Geoff’s studio. Too late to sit on the couch and watch TV tonight, but he had a more exciting thought, anyway. Their new life, their new relationship, as Friday night had shown, required a man who wanted to fuck. He wanted to fuck. He just needed to show it.

All right then. He kicked his Herman Miller chair back from his desk, excited by an idea. He stood and unbuttoned his shirt and threw it aside, then kicked his moccasins off and unzipped his jeans and pulled them down with his underwear and stepped out of them. Now he was naked—standing in the ambient low light of the studio, hoping he looked sexy. His penis grew, lifting itself up and away from his body. He watched to see if she was coming, didn’t see her yet, so he gave himself a good stroking. He was so fucking aroused by his own nakedness he had it like steel in a few strokes. He smiled in anticipation of his wife walking through that door and seeing him. He wasn’t some stud, but he was thin and fit and while he didn’t have a big impressive cock, it was average. He saw the top of a black head of hair coming up the walk and he stood confidently, waiting to be seen. . . . Until he cowered at the thought that she might not be alone. Some friend coming with her, or shit, what if it wasn’t even Nia? What if it was, like, his mom showing up with bad news about Dad, or, fuck, a burglar? That’s how he’ll die? Bludgeoned after surprising a thief with his boner. He stepped to the side, tentatively watching who might come through the door, hiding his lower half behind a table with a 27 inch iMac. The door opened and Nia walked in and he sighed. He took a step to show her his goods, and she turned and closed the door and flicked his overhead lights on.

“Geoff?” She looked around the room for him, saw him stepping out from behind his desk, flinching and blinking from the sudden bright.

“Shit, Nia, the lights,” he hissed.

He was snow-blind for a second, but he could tell she’d shut them down and he could hear her laughing over at the door.

“Geoff, ha ha, what the fuck?” She couldn’t continue. She was laughing so hard.

“Surprise,” he managed, and he stepped out again, where she could see him.

“Did I just catch you masturbati— Geoff, do you take all your clothes off when you jerk it?” she cackled and leaned against the wall.

“Ha, fucking ha, Nia,” he said, and he kept walking to her, trying to be confident but sensing it waning. “I got you this gift, and I was trying to wrap it when you walked in.” He motioned with both hands to his cock.

“Let’s see this gift, Geoff,” she said, and she watched him walk towards her and he felt stupid and self-conscious, but Nia smiled and showed him she enjoyed the show. Her eyes were between his legs, watching his erection wag as he crossed to her.

“That’s for me?” she said as he got close.

“Sure is,” he said, and he stepped to her and put his hand on the back of her neck and kissed her.

He shuddered as her hand gripped his aching hardness. She jerked him while they kissed, his passionate, sexy wife. She wanted it again. Three nights in a row now. How long was this going to go on? His dick was hard as a rock, but, if he were honest, it was also a little sore.

“You know, the girls want a stripper for the bachelorette. You wanna make a couple hundred shaking this thing for them?”

“We could use the money.”

“Say the word and I’ll have you booked.”

“Think I got what it takes?” he asked.

“Mm, you’ll get a couple of tips.”

“Sympathy tips from you.”

“I wouldn’t want you to feel bad, Geoff,” she laughed as they kept kissing.

“You’re killing me,” he whispered.

“I’m teasing, Geoff. I like this package you’re working with. In fact,” she said, broke her mouth away from his, that mean smile appearing again. “I want a show.”

“You do?”

“Oh, yeah. I do.” Nia walked past him and went to his couch and threw herself down on it. She spread her arms over the back and stretched her legs out in front of her and crossed them. She was beautiful. She was fully clothed, skirt and sweater, jacket, heels, hair done and makeup, and he was completely naked and hard, hair messy, body hunched and sore from drawing all day. It aroused him incredibly. “Nia, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You too, tiger. Show me what you got. Shake it for me.”

“There’s no music, Nia.”

“Ba-dum-bum-dumm,” she said, snapping her fingers, watching him slyly through her eyebrows.

Geoff laughed.“Oh, come on.”

“Da-dum-dum-dumm,” she continued, still smiling, still snapping.

He rolled his head around, covered his privates with his hands. “Fuuuuuck,” he moaned. “Fine.”

He took his hands away. Nia kept up her musical accompaniment, and he walked with the beat towards her, throwing his hips out on the bass beat and thrusting his cock out and making it bounce for her.

“Ba-dum-dum-dumph—” Nia broke into a laugh, but she nodded, encouraging him, snapping and waving her hands while she did, dancing while she sat, drawing him towards her. He rushed the rest of the way, overcome with shyness and feeling a little humiliated. She reached for his cock as he got close, but he threw himself on the couch and covered it up.

“Very sexy, Geoffy baby,” she said, and she climbed up his body. The zipper of her jacket was cold as ice and as it dragged up his bare skin, his scrotum shrank up like a raisin.

“Well, look at my naked husband,” she said, looking him over, hovering over him as he lay on the couch with her on all fours over top of him. “Move your hands.”

He took his hands away and let her see it, watched her face as her eyes went down and saw his hardness revealed to her.

“So you girls are going to get a stripper?” he said.

“We are,” she said, and she still surmised his aching cock. Her hand came up, and she ran a long fingernail down its belly. She watched it flex and wriggle. She chuckled. Then her hand gripped it again, and stroked him. “This is like my control stick. My little Geoff lever. I can make him go left, I can make him go right, up and down,” she moved his cock, shifted it in those directions. “When I press the tip, his mouth opens and I can suck his tongue or put my pussy on it.”

He laughed and opened his mouth for her, making it swing open like it was on a hinge. Her thumb ran circles over his ticklish tip with his streaming pre-cum.

She nuzzled her face in between his head and the pillow on the arm of the couch and she whispered in his ear, “And when I stroke it . . . I can make him agree to anything I want. Like letting me fuck the stripper.”

“Oh, my God, yes, Nia, you can fuck the stripper,” he whispered in comical agreement.

“I bet he’ll have abs and a big chest. I bet he’s got a fantastic cock. A cock like this you keep tucked away.” She jiggled his around to show him the cock she was talking about. “Would you show my friends this cock? Take your pants off and dance for them like you did?”

“No way, ha ha.”

“Right,” she whispered. “Guy that’s coming is bound to have a whopper. It’s gotta be big if you’re going to show it to a bunch of foul-mouthed Italian girls been drinking all day. Bet he’s got something I could really get down with. You know?”

“You’re so bad.”

She giggled and nibbled on his ear, and it gave him chills so bad he had to jump up. He squirmed out from under her and sat up. She lay back on the couch now, smiling at him and put her hands up over her head. Her skin glowed, her eyes sparkled. He was so in love.

“Let me serve you,” he said.

“Oh yeah?” Her grin widened.

“Let me pleasure you.”

“I like that, Geoff. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

He got on his knees over top of her and brought his face down on to her stomach, biting at her shirt while her nails scratched through his hair.

“Show me, Geoff,” she whispered again.

He got his lips underneath her shirt, pushing the fabric until the hot skin of her belly touched his lips. Her skin smelled of her perfume, faint and subtle and spicy. He breathed her deeply. Nia writhed. He pushed her legs wide, and she moved them apart while he kissed and bit around her belly button. She pushed him lower, and he went where she wanted, kissing his way down, the scratch of her skirt across his lips, the snag of his beard in her fine wool.

Her panties were smooth and satin and he bit at them, pulled the fabric with his teeth, tucked a finger into the waistband and she moaned when he pulled it away and she felt the cool air touch her between her legs where she was wet and eager. He kissed her mound. She’d shaved again, bare and smooth, her skin buttery, the flesh yielding to his lips as he made his way to her hot stripe. He found it, swollen and ready, craving his tongue. He gave it to her, sensed the jolt it put in her, felt her tremble under his fingers, pressed into the wonderful flesh of her thighs.

“Oh, Geoff,” she whispered, spurring him on to deliver her something special.

He worked his tongue through her, touching all her parts, pulling her lips into his mouth, tugging and kissing, licking low, almost too low, then back up her centre. He went on like that, running his tongue through her slippery folds, tasting her bitter tang and loving every musky drop she had. Her hands pulled at his hair, scratched at his scalp, her nails dragged on his jaw, dug through his beard. She forced her pussy onto his tongue. He dove it deep inside, then up and finding her hard swollen clit and spreading it flat, squashing it with his soft tongue. He held her like that, his hand clutching at her thighs, his mouth clamped over her aching hungry sex and Nia did the work, got herself to where she needed to be, grinding her clit against him. Her hips swiveled in circles, her little girl sounds went high and squeaky, came quicker and quicker. She chanted, yes yes yes, over and over as she got closer. He held himself rigid so she could use him as a device, her living breathing sex toy, and finally she bucked against him, cried out once, a loud Yes that he worried the neighbors might hear. Then he softened his tongue, tasted her again as Nia heaved breaths above him and her legs closed against his ears. “Stop, stop,” she whispered. “I came, baby.”

He propped himself up on his elbows, framed between her long legs, and he wiped at his mouth, said, “I know you did.”

“Thank you, tiger,” she said. “That was a great way to greet me.”

“I love you, Nia.”

“Geoff, I love you too,” she looked into his eyes and caressed his cheek with the back of her hand. “Come up here,” she whispered. He crawled up the couch to lie by her. They both lay on their sides face to face and Nia put her lips just a breath from his. She smiled and her hand came up and she wiped at his beard, getting her nectar off him.

“Come on and kiss me,” he said.

She giggled and wiped, then moved in and bit at his lower lip. Her right hand gripped his cock, and he sighed into her mouth. “Mm, Nia,” he groaned.

“So, baby, you don’t mind if we get a stripper?”

“You going to be a good girl?”

“Mm-hmm-hmm, no promises.”

“You’re looking forward to it, aren’t you?”

“A little.”

“You’re my bad girl.”

“I can be bad. Do you want me to be bad?”

The nails of her other hand ran over his balls, and they pulled up tight to his body. She stroked his cock slow. “I don’t want to get in your way, you know.”

“You don’t want to cramp my style?”

“Ah, mm, right. I want you to feel good.”

“When I go out? You want me to have fun?” Her fingers stroked his head, going up and down fast and ticklish.

“Ah, I do.”

“All the other girls were worried their boyfriends would find out and beat up the stripper. Would you do that?”

“No.”

“I know you wouldn’t. You’re a nice white boy, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, I mean . . .”

“You’re my good husband, right?” Her hand gripped him again, squeezing and stroking, a finger on her other hand now making quick circles over the hole of his penis.

“Ah, oh, I am.”

“You’re the wonderful dad to our little girl.”

“Of course.”

“I know.”

“Know what?”

“That’s what you are.”

“Do you want me to be more?” His face clenched as he got so close and all he wanted to do was explode in her hand and shoot his seed all up her shirt.

“No.”

“Do you want me to go crazy . . . a-and beat up the stripper?”

“Ha ha, that’s not you though, baby, is it?”

He shook his head. Her hand felt so good. He wanted to keep looking into her eyes, but his kept wanting to close on him.

She whispered, “You are the way you are, other men are the way they are.”

“You want to be with . . . those men?”

“And leave this wonderful boy I have at home?”

“But you’re saying they have something you want? Is that it? Aren’t we supposed to be honest and comm—”

“I’m teasing, Geoff. I’m trying to turn you on. I’d only do something you were comfortable with.” She kissed him, kissed his chin through his beard, teeth biting at his jawline.

He said, “If I said you could have sex . . . outside the marriage . . . you would?”

She pulled back and looked at him through half-lidded eyes. “Are you saying that?”

“No. Nia, are you . . . mm, teasing, or is this for real? Ah-honestly.”

“I honestly don’t know.”

He shuddered, thrashed his head and scowled at her with his eyes shut tight. What the fuck was she saying?

“Ah, ah oh,” he groaned and cried out as he shot his thick semen and it spurted up between them all over her shirt and over her hand. She stroked him and pinched it, her hand crushed his glans and squeezed the semen out of him.

“Come for me, baby, that’s it,” she cooed. “I love to see you come.”

“Agh, oh, ah, Nia. Who? Dino?”

“No. Nobody. Let’s just forget it, okay?”

“But, I—”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it now. Forget I said anything.”

How could he forget? How would he ever forget the night she might have insinuated she’d like to seek a partner outside their marriage?