A Few Days of Peace – Part IV
Kim opened her eyes to behold the dazzling sunlight streaming through the window of their honeymoon suite. The sash had been left up, allowing a pleasant breeze to flutter the sheer white blinds as it filled the room with the inviting scent of the ocean. She didn't bother looking at her watch, she really didn't care what time it was. In fact she didn't even want to move. The center of her universe was right there in the middle of that bed, resting in a pool of warmth created by her and the other figure sleeping, curled up with her. Somehow, despite the tropical warmth, she still felt at home and comfortable with the warm body she was sharing that space with. She snuggled in closer and his arms wrapped tighter around her waist, one hand cupping half of her backside, gently squeezing her, the other gliding up and down the small of her back, smoothing the silk nightgown with its gentle touch. Memories of the day and night before filtered back to her, the events surprisingly fulfilling.
Surprising mainly because they had both fallen asleep almost the moment their heads hit the pillows. Two straight nights of…adventurous…intimacy, along with a slow buy lengthy bike ride had finally caught up to both of them, driving home the point they were trying to make with each other during their picnic. Still they had returned to their rooms and enjoyed a nice long bath just sitting across from each other in the double-sized garden tub, soaking in the hot water, both of them intending to make an early evening of it, joining each other in bed before a nice, long night of sleep.
Best laid plans and all. Sleep claimed them both as they lay there caressing each other. Yet somehow it didn't seem to bother her that here on their honeymoon they had managed to go more than twenty-four hours without making love. Their bodies had been in overdrive since setting foot on the island and it had finally caught up to them.
Somehow burning out on all that passion, then recovering with a long night of rest felt incredibly good. She snuggled even closer into him, her hand reaching behind him to return the favor, feeling the taught muscles of his narrow posterior. She leaned over him, kissing his neck, gently waking him from his deep slumber. He awoke, nibbling on her neck, aware that kissing her on the lips was not in the cards first thing in the morning, at least until they had both had a close encounter with a toothbrush. The nibbling sent shivers down her spine and set her hands in motion once more.
Ron's eyes snapped wide open and he threw the covers off, scampering out of bed. "Hold that thought, KP, I'll be right back."
She fell back on her pillows, blowing a lock of hair out of her face. That's when she noticed antique style clock on the mantle. They had been in bed for over twelve hours. Ron could be forgiven needed to run off like that, the human bladder can only hold so much. Especially if you're thinking about it.
Just like she was.
So much for staying in bed all day she thought as she headed for the other bathroom, finally understanding why the suite had two. There had to be more women out there like her. She shared her life and her soul with Ron, but there was one thing she would not share with him, ever. When they first moved in together she discovered something terrible about him, something that, in any other man on Earth, would have been a deal-killer with her. Somehow, somewhere along the way, Ron had developed a habit of leaving the bathroom door open. Perhaps it was the fact he was an only child and had his own bathroom attached to his bedroom. Perhaps it was just an odd family quirk. Whatever the case, it was a habit she could not, would not abide.
Bathroom time (not including mutual baths or showers) was a very, very private time for her. So much so they had taken that into consideration when the bathroom of their new home was designed. It was too bad the place would not be ready for a few more weeks, it would have been nice to move directly into the brand-new townhouse when they returned. Oh well, she'd get to repeat the 'threshold' ceremony one more time once the final details were completed.
Ron, at least, was kind enough to open the door while he was at the sinks brushing his teeth, letting her know it was safe to come in now. She stopped halfway across the large room and just stared for a moment at the man in the bathroom, standing there in polka-dot boxers and a tank-style t-shirt, brushing his teeth first thing in the morning. There was just something comfortable about watching him like that, something that really appealed to her. It was a sort of finality to what they were doing, a simple, subtle signal that their union was true. He turned and spotted her, grinning while he vigorously scrubbed his teeth, a bit of paste foam drooling from one corner.
Kim's belly twitched, then twitched again. In moments she nearly doubled over giggling at the sight of Ron, brushing his teeth, drooling foam and wearing the silliest of his goofy grins. He rinsed his mouth out and started rummaging through his luggage while she went to work on her morning breath. Moments later he returned, holding a silver PDA, essentially his old Kimmunicator from before they switched to wrist units. Kim almost gagged when she saw the picture frozen on the screen.
"RON! Where did you get that?"
"KP, I'm willing to bet there isn't a hard drive on this planet that doesn't have a copy of this picture, but in this case, I got it from your brothers' website."
She took the PDA from his hands, looking at the picture. "This was, what, seven years ago? Man I looked like a little girl!" It was an old digital photo of Kim, her face covered in white moisturizer, toothpaste foam dribbling down her face.
"No, KP, you don't look like a little girl in that picture. The only thing that's changed is that your hair is longer and I guess you're about an inch taller now."
"Ron, you're just saying that because we've been with each other since we were four. We just don't see the changes."
"Actually, Kim, I do. I saw every inch you grew. I remember when every one of your freckles faded away. I remember the day your braces came off. I, uh, remember the hard time you had when your Mom started making you wear a training bra. When I say you look the same now as when you were fifteen, I really mean it. You were the most beautiful girl I ever knew and you still are." He walked up behind her, taking a fistful of her hair and gently pulling it into a long ponytail like she had in the picture. "Now, if we just had a jar of Noxzema…" he said, putting his head beside hers.
The touch of his day-old beard, the warmth of his skin, the heady Ron-scent of his was electric to her. His hands encircled her waist, pulling their bodies together, her long hair spilling over his shoulders as his hips swayed with hers to some silent tune that only played in their heads. She turned in his embrace and kissed him, the minty traces of his toothpaste still on his lips.
"So what do you want to do today?" He asked, breaking away only slightly.
"I want to go dancing. I want to put on the nicest clothes we brought and go out to dinner. I want to climb up to the top of the lighthouse and watch the moon over the water. I want you to treat me like a lady of old and you're my knight in shining armor.
"Until it's time to do that, I think we should play it by ear." She whispered in his ear, hugging him close to her as they shifted their weight from foot to foot, still dancing slowly in the large bathroom. He took her hand and twirled her, making certain to watch as her short nightgown flew up at the bottom, enjoying the momentary view.
"Play it by ear, huh?" He pulled her close and started ever so gently nibbling on her ear, breathing lightly into it. She craned her neck in pleasure, leaning her belly into his, pushing him up against the lavatory counter. Her hand went up the back of his shirt, feeling the narrow, taught muscles there, feeling the groove of his spine.
Ron pushed her away, holding her at arms length, not to separate them, but to drink in the sight of her. Her pale peach skin, just a bare shade darker than his own (save the freckles) was perfectly complemented by the dark, shimmering purple silk of her camisole. It was not the sheer, almost invisible one she had worn on their wedding night but it seemed to cling to every curve, every hollow of her body, not so much revealing as suggesting. His imagination filled in the details and for some reason he found it even more appealing, mystery mixing with knowledge, promise merged with experience.
Without realizing it, they were drifting out of the bathroom, back into the master bedroom. Ron put his hand on the small of her back and lowered her to the bed, kissing her softly but passionately as her hands found the bottom of his shirt, pulling upwards, the action made difficult by the fact she was spending more time touching him than actually pulling at the white cotton top. He pulled the covers on top of them as his boxers disappeared somewhere deep in the bed.
Ron made sure Kim got all of her wishes granted that day, though they almost missed their opportunity that evening. By the time they walked back from the lighthouse, their shoes in one hand, the other hands joined, they were once again ready for a nice, long night of sleep. At least an hour or so later.
A/N I've really been blown away by the response this simple little tale of Kim and Ron's honeymoon has gotten. It's really gratifying this story, which is perfectly part of my main continuity, can reach an even larger audience. Thanks to all my readers and reviewers.