Page 13 of With September

The band is doing their own interesting rendition of Cindi Lauper’sTime Of Your Lifeas we dance. Having her in my arms like this and being here with her is everything to me.

“Put me out of my misery, September,” I whisper in ear. I’m not above begging her, but I’m there.

“In what way?” she asks coyly. I know she knows what I’m talking about. We’ve talked about this daily since I initially asked her to marry her.

“Baby, I want you to be my wife.” It’s all I’ve wanted pretty much since the moment we met.

“I will be.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Baby, we’ve talked about this. I want to be graduated. I want to travel. I want to see the world with you. I want to focus on my art, but I you. I want to be your wife. Just not right now. Give me time, but in the meantime I’m all yours. I’ll always be yours.”

“Fuck baby. I love you so fucking much.”

“I love you too.”

Taking her hand, I lead her out of the ballroom and up to our room.

I waste no time in peeling her dress from her body, letting it pool at her feet. She steps out of it; her matching black and white polka dot bra and panties look too innocent for what’s about to happen. Reaching behind her, I unhook her bra and toss it away. With a flick of her wrist, she pulls open my bow tie and deftly unbuttons my shirt, throwing both to the ground. She looks me in the eye while she opens my belt and pants, shoving them down. I kick my shoes away, as well as my pants.

Dropping to my knees in front of her, I peel her panties down her legs and kiss both of her hip bones before placing a kiss on her bare pussy. She’s so fucking wet. My mouth waters at the thought of tasting I can see how wet she is. I swipe my tongue over her clit before sliding it inside of her. In and out, I mimic what my cock wants to do. My hands grip her hips. I know that I am leaving bruises, but I can’t help myself.

“Trev,” she moans, her hands fisting in my hair. She lets me take my fill of her. I need her to come before I fuck her. Using two fingers, I slide them into her slowly, curling them until I find her g-spot. It doesn't take long before she’s coming on my face. Standing, I lead her over to the four-poster bed. She climbs into the center of it and spreads her legs for me. I lose my boxers and join her. Leaning down, I kiss her before moving my lips down her body. I focus on her nipples and lower still. I kiss her pussyagain before straightening. I grip my cock and stroke it a few times while staring down at her wet pussy. I line myself up with her opening and slide into her tight heat.

“Fuck,” I groan as her pussy tightens around me.I begin to move inside her.

“Trevor, please don’t stop,” she says, pushing toward me.

“I’m not baby. I’m never fucking stopping,” I reply through gritted teeth. It’s taking everything in me not to come so quickly. Finally, I am under some semblance of control. I fuck in and out of her, going harder and faster with each thrust.

“Trev, I’m coming,” she screams, and I can feel that she is. Her little cunt muscles are squeezing my dick like a vice grip. Feeling her pussy clench on me is the best thing I’ve ever felt, and I can’t hold back any longer. How could I?

“That’s a good girl. Come on, my dick,” I demand as I fuck her harder. She keeps coming, and I can’t hold back any longer.

This is what the rest of our life is going to be like, and I can’t wait.

Epilogue

September

Four Years Later

My life has been sofull and a whirlwind of discoveries and decisions and love since that day I chose to follow my heart. Trevor and I decided pretty early on even before we moved in with one another that we wanted to wait to be married and have children until we have graduated, chosen our careers, have found employment and have traveled and seen as much of the world as we want to. So that is what we did.

The first summer we spent together as a couple my sophomore year, we traveled all over Europe for the summer. We went from Britain, to Italy, to Greece and ended in Spain. It was amazing. The art, the vibrancy of each place, the life…it was unparalleled. I was sure nothing could ever beat that feeling of being free.

My art piece that I finished the right after we got back, titled: The Evolution of Love, turned into an entire motif of Trevor in various stages of love but seen through my eyes. When I looked at it, I never saw it as an art piece for a show. To me, it was my expression of what he has brought into my life. My professors and Trevor for that matter had other ideas and I won theoutstanding newcomers awards that year with a fifty-thousand-dollar award.

From there Trevor and I pursued our art and passion without abandon and that passion included one another. Our love was…no is electric. It is all consuming and it surrounds us like a cloak of tapestry protecting our light. We don’t hide our obsession with one another, by look nor by touch, but it is our hearts and our absolute devotion to one another that shines the brightest.

Shortly after I moved in with him and spoke with Armstrong I finally told my parents everything. My new living arrangement, my discovery about who my biological father was and about my decision to be done with them. Of course, the moment they learned about Armstrong it was like I was the golden child, but it further made me want nothing more to do with them, so I told them I loved them, thanked them for giving the best they knew how and I hung up on that part of my life. It is so full, and I needed nothing else from them.

I graduated yesterday from college with a job already lined up for after Christmas as an art teacher with the local high school at a fine arts campus. Trevor who graduated two years ahead of me, is an artist. He has had multiple showcases in the MoFa and is now being featured in an art gallery owned by one of his own idols from Paris.

The truth is neither Trevor nor myself have to work a day in our lives so we are blessed in that we can follow our dreams. Like today. Today I am standing in front of the mirror in the bridal suite at La Pergae Amour, one of the most elegant hotels in the city, while my sisters help me put on my wedding dress, so I walk down the aisle on the arm of my father toward the love of my life.

“I can’t believe you are getting married six months pregnant,” my sister December says, sipping up the back. I smile at her through the mirror and rub my active bump.