I’m sitting in the back of the car, Olivia squished up next to me. I’m extremely aware of her body pressed against me. The side of her right breast is pushing into my shoulder. My cock is, of course, as hard as a rock in my suit pants.

She smells like, I don’t know, something delicious and sexy. Wisps of her hair are coming undone and poking gently into my face.

The driver’s just pulling away from the wedding. Outside of the car, the wedding guests are standing around chanting at us and clapping.

“I think that went pretty well, right?” she says, turning towards me.

“I think they bought it,” I say.

“This is a nice touch, driving away together.”

“It wouldn’t seem like a wedding without. I mean, what are we supposed to do, just part ways right after walking down the aisle?”

“This is a really nice ring,” she says, raising her finger to her face to examine the ring better.

“Sorry I didn’t get you an engagement ring,” I say.

She shrugs. “That’s more modern anyway, right?”

“I don’t think so. I think people still do engagement rings.”

“I don’t mind,” she says, peering at the gold band. “Let me see yours.”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m just curious.”

I hold it up for her and she takes my large hand in both of her small hands. Her skin is silky smooth and soft, and she leans in closer to my hand, her breasts spilling onto my chest.

She looks so fucking hot in that wedding dress. I just want to rip it off of her and take her right here in the limo.

“Ooh,” she says, apparently impressed with my ring. She holds my hand in hers for a couple moments longer than I would have expected. She doesn’t seem to want to let go.

“I wouldn’t peg you for the kind of girl interested in rings,” I say.

“Why’s that?”

“You seem practically minded. Weddings and rings are the opposite of practical, aren’t they?”

She shrugs. “I guess I’m still a woman at heart.”

She giggles after saying this.

“You’re in a good mood,” I say.

“That was surprisingly fun,” she says. “I’ve never had a wedding before.”

“I have. Trust me, this is the best part. It only goes downhill from here on out.”

“Your marriage didn’t go well?”

I shrug. I’m not sharing her giggling effervescent mood. I’m on the edge of being grumpy. That happens sometimes when I’m horny and sexually unsatisfied. The thing that would take the edge off this mood of mine that’s developing is if she bent all the way down over my lap and blew me right here in the car. My cock swings as I think this. It’s simply aching.

“That’s one way to put it,” I say. “My ex-wife is a real piece of work… She’s not a bad person. But she’s got a drug problem that she couldn’t beat.”

“I thought you hated her or something? After all, she’s trying to take your daughter from you, right? This is a weird conversation to be having right after our wedding, by the way.”

That makes me chuckle, lifting me out of my mood slightly.

“I guess you’re right,” I say. “I wasn’t thinking about it like that. But, about my ex-wife… no, I don’t hate her, really, despite how I might talk about her sometimes. I can understand her position. She just wants to be with her daughter. And she’s convinced that I spend all my time partying and… uh… womanizing, not to mention working, rather than spending time with Laura. She thinks I’m a terrible dad, and in some ways she’s right.”

“Don’t say that.”

I shrug. “It’s true in some ways. I don’t spend enough time with her. But it’s not that I don’t have the time, it’s just that I don’t really know how to do it.”

“You don’t know how to spend time with her.”

“I mean, I know how to go into her room, but once I open my mouth it’s like I don’t have anything to say… I just don’t know how to talk to someone her age…”

“What were your parents like?”

I shrug. “I don’t know.” I’m suddenly feeling uncomfortable and defensive.

“Did they talk to you a lot?” she asks sweetly.

That makes me laugh, a kind of rough, callous laugh that comes out naturally. “Not at all,” I say. “My dad preferred the belt to words, if you want to put it like that.”

“That’s awful,” says Olivia, pushing her curvy body further up against me.

“You know,” I say, looking down sideways at her body. “You remember that this is a fake marriage, right?”

“Of course,” says Olivia. “But you have to admit that it’s kind of fun, right?”

“I guess in a way,” I say. “But what happened to the shy, studious girl that I fake proposed to only a couple days ago? You’re acting completely differently.”

She giggles as she answers. “I don’t know,” she says. “I’m honestly just as surprised as you are. I guess I just never realized how much fun this would be.”

“You really found it fun?”

“Sure, the building was beautiful. And I have to admit that I love the dress…”

There’s something else that she’s thinking but that she’s not saying out loud.

“Well,” I say. “If you really think it’s that fun, what if we just go along with it and pretend that we really are getting married, just for tonight?”

“You mean…?”

Realizing she’s referring to sex, I add, “Oh, I don’t mean that we’re going to fuck.”

She blushes at my coarse language.

“I’m not in the habit of buying sex,” I continue. “And I’m not going to start with you. This is a business arrangement only, but that doesn’t mean we can’t, you know, enjoy the situation. And by that, don’t get the wrong idea. I just mean that we can enjoy the couple’s massages at the hotel, and sit around and play card games like the bored newlyweds used to do, clinking champagne glasses and all. It’s just fun, like make believe.”

“I’m surprised you would suggest something like that.”

“Why?”

“You’re always so serious. You’ve got this ‘my way or fuck you’ attitude.”

I laugh. “I hope I’m not like that all the time.”

“Maybe this marriage is lightening you up a little.”

“I think it’s lightening you up a little,” I say. “So what do you say? Are you in?”

“Sure,” she says, looking me in the eyes.

I know we’re both wondering the same thing…

We fall silent for a few minutes, before I speak again, breaking the silence. We’ve got about twenty more minutes until the limo reaches the hotel.

“I got us two rooms, because I really doubt anyone would go to the trouble of checking up on this little detail. And I can just say that you snore and I had to get a separate room. Lots of couples do that.”

“Why do I have to be the one to snore?”

I shrug. “I’ve slept with a lot of women, and no one’s ever said that I snore before.”

A weird look creeps onto her face.

Is she hurt by that, that I’ve slept with a lot of women?

“It’s not that many,” I say. For some reason, I find myself wanting to ease this apparent pain of hers.

“No? That’s not what I hear.”

“Who would you hear that from? I may be notorious, but I didn’t think I was that notorious.”

“People at work talk about it,” she says.

“Oh,” I say. “I guess that makes sense. I may have had a few… dalliances at work. But that’s normal. I mean, you must have slept with your fair share of guys, right?”

She blushes a deep red.

“Come on,” I say. “It’s our wedding night. This is where we traditionally tell each other all the secrets of our past, especially our sexual past.”

“How many women have you slept with?” she says.

I shrug my shoulders. “If I knew, I’d tell you,” I say. “But honestly I lost track after a hundred. And that was in my twenties, so…”

“A hundred!” she says, her mouth falling open in surprise.

I can’t help fixating on her plump, lipsticked lips, wondering what it would look like with my thick cock jammed inside, her lips pushing forward in a pout as she sucks my cock deeply and slowly.

“More than a hundred in total,” I say. “But it’s 2017. It’s not like it used to be. Come on, maybe you haven’t slept with a hundred guys, but you must have slept with like ten, right? I mean, you did go to college, didn’t you?”

“I was pretty studious in college,” she says.

“There’s always time for a little fun, though, right?”

She’s growing redder all the time. She suddenly shakes her head.

“You mean you haven’t slept with ten guys?”

She shakes her head again, indicating a firm “no.”

It’s honestly not a sadistic streak that makes me continue with this. It’s just that I really want to show her that it’s normal to have sex with people and it’s nothing that she needs to be embarrassed about.

Well, that, and I want to basically justify my own womanizing ways, by showing that we’re not all that different. What’s the difference, really, if it’s eight men or a couple hundred women?

“Come on,” I say. “You must have slept with at least five guys?”

She shakes her head again.

“Not even five?” I say, honestly amazed at this point.

“OK,” I say. “Two guys.”

She shakes her head.

“One?” I say, my voice trailing off in disbelief.

She shakes her head again.

At this point, she’s blushing a deep reddish purple that covers her entire face, which honestly looks comical against her brilliantly white wedding dress.

“You’re a virgin?” I say, chuckling.

She nods her head.

I feel her embarrassment, but the fact that she’s a virgin also does something else to me: it drives me completely wild. My cock is as hard as it’s ever been, straining against my pants. The fabric of these pants is thin, and honestly I’m running a real risk of it bursting right through my pants, or at least popping the zipper open.

Just think of it… I’d be the first to sink my cock into her sweet virgin pussy, the first to make her come, and I mean really come. The first to show her how intensely pleasurable sex can be.

“You’ve done… things, though?” I say, not sure how to word it. Suddenly, here I am, shy about talking about sex acts. That’s certainly not me. But I do feel like a different person now. Maybe it’s the excitement of the wedding day, even though it’s fake, or maybe it’s something about her mere presence that seems to bring me out of myself and turn me into someone else, someone that I used to be a long, long time ago.

“Yeah,” she says, her face still crimson. But the flash is diminishing, and that’s good, because it was starting to look uncomfortable. Her face must have felt like it was on fire. “I just haven’t gone all the way. I was always so concentrated on working hard and going to law school early. And I did all that… until I basically overworked myself and got hit with chronic fatigue that came at me like a cinder block falling from the sky. It completely wiped me out. So I haven’t really had time or energy for dating…”

“That’s understandable,” I say.

“Really? Because you don’t seem like the type of guy to understand something like that.”

“Maybe I’m more than I seem,” I say. “Plus, you bring a completely different side of me out.”

“Isn’t that just some kind of line? You’re starting to hit on me, aren’t you? As soon as you learn that I’m a virgin,” she says this word quietly, as if someone might hear it, even though the limo cabin is soundproofed and the driver can’t hear anything. “Is that a thing? That guys just suddenly go crazy when they learn you’re a virgin?”

I smile at her. “I’ll admit that it does have a certain appeal,” I say. “But I don’t need to hit on you. After all, we’re already married.”