Wedding Bells

Done with my bath I come out to see my dark Angelo with ruffled feather glaring into the mirror.

She might look hazardous to herself but her smudged lipstick, styled hairs tangled and her once elegant modest dress creased made her hottest sight to behold.

While she huffed at the reflection with raised her brow, She hadn’t noticed me still but I took my time surveying the thoroughly satiated beauty who didn’t deserve a humping in my mother’s. The thought of her as a used disposed woman soured his mouth.

She was blushing several shades of red, many I didn’t know existed but she glared harder at her reflection. I have a theory: She may have second-hand experience but she was no femme fatal with more notches on her bedpost than she can count but my gal was no high school nerd making out with her crush for the first time either.

Just as I was about to step out from the film, she gave a tight slap on her left cheek and screamed the next