Emma and Cray were in Paris celebrating their honeymoon, the trip that she paid for. Cray was doing what he was doing best, ignoring her, neglecting his brand new bride. Ignoring her by watching television, and drinking a beer like he has been working all day and he needed a break like a typical husband would do when he had a long day. Emma was getting frustrated. She was about to cry over the stupidity that her new husband was doing but she didn't. She was placing a brave face as his ex-wife did.
Emma clears her throat, walking up to Cray, leaning against the chair, leaning on him. Trying to charm him on but he roughly pushes her off. Cray looked at her harshly, with an angry spirit that she couldn't refuse but to take seriously. She looked at him angrily but she smiled and let it slide. This was her first mistake, allowing shit to pass instead of confronting it. It was her honeymoon and it wasn't an idea to argue on her first honeymoon, first marriage, first happiness. She wanted sex in bed, moaning and yelling in joy but obviously, it didn't work like that.
It's a nice night, tonight! Paris, where love starts! Why don't we go out? Or order take out! Call for room service? Shall we do that instead? Asked Emma. Smiling as she looks through Paris pamphlets of restaurants, feeling happy to be a wife but was he happy to be a husband?
Malia would always cook for our celebrations, and not waste money on things that don't matter. Cray said.
But it is our honeymoon! Don't you want to eat out just for once, instead of running an electronic bill? What would you like to eat? Asked Emma
Look in the refrigerator, find or guess what I like. Said Cray.
Emma took a deep sigh, trying to withhold her tears but it flew down like water. She ran into the bathroom.
Cray sighs, placing his beer onto the table beside him. Cray gets up from a chair that he felt comfortable in, grabbed his coat, and walked out the door. When Emma came out, the room was silent and empty. It was like she failed as a bride and a wife. She just started her life by getting married and she started to feel abandoned, neglected and rejected. Barely 21, and feeling disgusted with the choice she made.
Cray called Malia more than once, but all he got was the answering machine. Malia was sipping wine, eating things she couldn't eat when she was married. Sweets, cake, ice cream, candy, and pastries. Malia was going to be alone for too long, a door knocked two times and there was that stranger man that she met at the hotel, right next to the elevator. He came in slowly, looking at her lustful. He shuts the door, locks it, unties his jacket. Underneath that jacket was a blessing that she never thought she would have at that moment. She was planning to have a night alone but it didn't turn out like that. Malia moans as she gotten picked up by the man that lusted her, placing her on the Sofia, getting in between her thighs, moving upward. Up top of the ceiling was a mirror to see their reflections and with every advantage she enjoyed. Malia touched the muscular sides of his back, holding from side to side. Touching his back with her acrylic nails that she had done that same day.
He moans as he pushes upward inside her and for that moment she was being taken by a man she hardly knew. The phone ringed and ringed but the phone was off. So, it was a do not disturb night between couples. Cray didn't understand that he has gotten frustrated. He walked in the elevator, then turning around while the door closed.
A woman placed her heel in front of the elevator, an expressive young teen with a woman look walked in, looking just like Malia but much younger. She stood in front of him, the dress she wore fitted tightly amongst her hips and breasts. It was like she was one of those 1954 women models or a similar character to Marilyn Monroe. She was beautiful, that could be his wife number 3 but he only saw her as a play toy, like he saw the rest of the women he fucked and screwed over.
The woman turned around and walked over to him, slowly, moving her hips side to side. Smiling at him with a cigarette in her hand.
Cray
Do you need a lighter? He asked.
The woman placed the cigarette in the tip of her lip, bending over to the lighter to light her cigarette.
Woman
You from around here? She asked.
Cray swallowed hard. Strong, attractive, naive, lonely women were his weakest. He loved using them. A woman he couldn't have or control. He couldn't handle, he had to use that charm but she was not easier or was she the hardest. Cray leans towards the elevator wall, and The woman leans up against him slowly touching, slowly, sharing tongues, they kiss. He roughly grabs her, roughly touching her hips, imagining it was Malia. He finally says Malia's name in a whisper. The woman didn't pay attention to it. She was interested in his pockets.
Malia and Cray were doing the same thing but differently. Malia closes her eyes, holding her breath, while the man continues to push and push. Finally, she gets on top of him, bouncing him in one spot, losing her mind as she rides him, giving him the same affection he had given to her. Although she was tired, she pleased, gave him the best ride and time. The man grabs her hips roughly, moving her to where he needed to be felt. Malia didn't fight what would happen in the moment. She just bounced in the direction he said to. She loved a man giving his all, being valuable and being in the moment of control as long as he wasn't mean, or evil, or malicious. And right through his eyes, she could feel that he was seriously pure, honest and real. And that she appreciated. She loved him, so she moved as she did. The touch that gave, made a woman lose her mind. The man started to moan softly, pushing upward as he did.
Malia
That feels good. She said.
Malia grabbed the man's hands, placing them on her sensitive breasts that were perked upward while in the middle of intercourse. I want you to squeeze. The man swallows hard, opening up his mouth widely as he felt the pressure she was giving him. She moans with him, moving in one spot. Milk poured out of her breast, he leans forwards, grabbing her, sucking the tip of her nipples hard, to drink the sweet milk he could. Then ends up kissing her on her lips, allowing the taste to linger on her lips. Being able to taste your own body is a blessing.
Cray entered the woman's room, locking the door. The woman takes off her dress, and lays on the bed, props her legs up, placing her legs on his shoulder while he was leaning towards her. Cray united his belt, leaning in against the woman's vagina, placing it in her, pushing in and out as they both moaned.
Emma ran outside the hotel room, into the parking lot, glancing around to see if she saw him. Two birds flew around her, and she spins around to play with them but stops midway as she saw a woman bouncing on top of Cray at the bottom of the hotel room that she was in. She walked up to the window, watching how beautiful the woman was, the fun he was having. The moaning sounded like a powerful aura. Emma bites her lips, lifts up her dress and looks at the gun that she had tied up and wrapped up against her thighs.
She ran back to her room, grabbed her bags, and walked out of the hotel that she was in and went across the way to the other hotel that was across the street. Cray was enjoying himself but didn't know what was happening. She marched up on top of the hotel exist door, and walked up to the edge of the hotel on the top roof. Unzippens her bag, grabs the rifle, places a silencer on it and placed the gun where she wanted to shoot. The woman that was on top, bouncing, moaning, leaning her head back was shown in the sniper rifle. She didn't hesitate, two in the leg, and two shots in the head. When the woman fell, down and wasn't breathing. Emma left the hotel like she didn't do anything and back in the room like she was an neglected abandoned wife.