Under the Cypress Moon (77 page)

There were still several hours until the reception would begin, in order to allow everyone to make the fifteen mile journey to the country club and to allow for extra time for those not attending the wedding ceremony to make it to the afternoon celebration.  As Shylah pulled at Mark to get him into the limousine that awaited them, Mark turned to T.L.  "You best not wreck my truck.  You take good care of her!  She's my other girl!"

"So, I should drive her into the river?  Gotcha.  I got this, Man.  With T. at the wheel, it ain't no deal.  You got time to kill, so go have your feel."

"Yeah.  I got drivin' of my own to do," Mark informed his friend, accepting a shoulder bump and a quick pat on the back.  "Love you, Brother."

Mark and Shylah happily entered their limousine, Mark steadying Shylah as she went before him.  Once inside, they gave each other only a brief, loving glance before lunging at one another.  They knew that they had plenty of time to celebrate and enjoy their blissful union, not to mention that neither of them had ever before been inside of a limousine, let alone had sex in one.

In a matter of minutes, all clothes were off, Shylah's gown piled high on the seat opposite her, Mark's tuxedo soon thrown atop it.  Mark happily laid Shylah down on the seat and knelt before her breathtaking figure, showing her just how much  he loved her, though he chose not to use words to express his feelings, but rather, another form of oral representation.  As Shylah convulsed with utter pleasure, losing herself from all thoughts of the world outside of the vehicle, she could not believe it that it was finally her first time having sex as a married woman, the first of many exciting sexual adventures with her now husband.

"Oh, Baby," Shylah exclaimed.  "I'm so glad you haven't lost your touch!  Holy shit!"  Shylah grabbed for any part of the seat that she could get ahold of but soon found that it was much more exciting and fulfilling to dig her fingers into Mark's back.

Mark did not mind at all.  He was glad that he still had such an effect on his bride.  It was comforting and arousing to know that she enjoyed him as much as he did her and that exchanging vows had not changed any of it one bit.  Nearly the entirety of the almost three hours from leaving the church until the beginning of the reception was spent in the back of the limousine, celebrating, over and over, giving into complete sexual abandon.

When the driver announced from the front of the car that it was nearing two o'clock, Mark and Shylah hurried to finish their last romp and throw on their clothing in order to look presentable and hopefully, not let on to what had occurred in the time between wedding and party. 
Shylah's hair was a mess, and so was Mark's, but the bigger worry was getting their clothes on evenly enough to pass inspection.  At one-fifty-one, the couple emerged from the limousine and headed into the Starlight Room to take their places at the head table.

The reception went as well as had the wedding, much relief to everyone there.  No one noticed, or at least, made it known that they noticed, that the couple looked a bit disheveled in their appearances. 
No one was more thrilled than Darius when he got to have his father-daughter dance approximately an hour into the festivities.  He allowed Shylah to lean her head on his shoulder, gladly welcomed it, patting Shylah gently on the back of her head as they swayed back and forth to the song, "Butterfly Kisses."

"Thank you, Daddy," Shylah said, in tears.

"For?"

"For everything.  For always bein' there for me, for being such a great father, for being my knight in shining armor.  You were the first man I ever fell in love with."

"Well, thank you, Baby."

"For what, Daddy," Shylah sniffled.

"For bein' such a beautiful girl and growin' into a beautiful woman.  No daddy ever wants to lose his baby girl, but I'm so glad I could be a part of this.  You never did give me too much trouble your whole life.  You always listened way better than your brother.  You are my baby girl, and you always will be.  I just wish I didn't have to let you go."

"Daddy," Shylah exclaimed, lifting her head from her father's shoulder but still keeping time with the beat of the music.  "You aren't letting me go!  I'll always be there for you to find me.  And you're gaining a son and a grandchild."

"That's true.  There's nobody I'd rather hand you off to than Mark.  He's a good boy.  When you gonna find out if I get a grandson or a granddaughter?"

"Which one do you want, Daddy?"

"I'll be happy either way, but if it's a girl, I hope she's even half the amazing girl I got!"

With a great swelling of pride and a running twinkle in her eye, Shylah replied, "Soon, Daddy, soon.  I should know just before Christmas."

The dance ended, and Shylah walked back to her seat to take her place next to her husband, who had been watching her with fixated awe but was now engaged in conversation with his best man.

Shylah sat in silence, smiling at everything that she saw.  It was all far too wonderful.  Her new life had begun.  Her old one was fading away as a distant memory. 
The rest of the day seemed to go by all in a blur.  There were still some lingering guests by the time that Tamia arrived to join T.L.  The party had, for the most part, ended.  T.L. was happy just to have even a moment with his lady love.

Shylah secretly hoped, while watching her brother and his girlfriend, that they could one day know the joy that she and Mark felt, that they would find their way, in their own due time, to the same altar, in front of Reverend Hill. 
She knew that a new and exciting chapter had opened for herself and her husband, for her brother and Tamia, for her mother and father.  It was her day, but it was also theirs. 

Shylah still floated on air when she got back to the house soon after that, eager to take the next step in her and Mark's life together, yet disappointed that the day's events had come to a close and that she would no longer have so much attention.  It was the most joyous day of her entire life, and she wished that it could have been more of a twenty-four hour thing, lasting from the stroke of midnight until the next stroke of midnight.  She gave herself, once again, body and soul to her husband, in anxious and thankful embrace and gratitude for such a wonderful life.  They spent the majority of the night searching every inch of one another and giving air to every emotion, every urge, and every desire, no matter how small or how big.  It was their night, as much as the day had been theirs, too.  To both, it seemed a dream still, one from which they hoped to never wake.

About Jason Wallace

Jason Wallace is a self-published Indie author from the Midwest.  After his divorce, he attended graduate school, earning an M.A. in American and European History.  In his free time, he writes avidly, in a range of genres, including poetry.  Jason has been writing for twenty years, beginning in junior high but has only published since 2011.  His ultimate goal is to one day gain enough recognition for his work to garner a publishing deal; however, he enjoys the craft for its inherent benefits of self-exploration, creative outlet, and the joy it brings to others.  He loves sculpting new characters that hopefully readers can identify with and love reading about as much as Jason enjoys creating them. 

Other titles by Jason Wallace

Shattered: On the Edge of Insanity

The Blade of Anslor

The Legend of Arthur Tanner and Johnny Red

The Firstfruits of the Flesh

Eternal Desire

Relentless

The Swamp Fox and His Ragtag Militia

The Ring

A Story Within: The Collected Short Stories and Novellas of Jason Wallace

“We Will Never Do An Unjust Act”: The Policies of Thomas Jefferson, Enacted by William Henry Harrison, that Forced a British Alliance with Tecumseh and Hastened War

From “Savage” to Citizen: How Native Americans were Rewarded for Centuries of Struggle and Contribution

Land of Demons: The Proto-Colonization of Ezochi, an Alternate Model of Japanese Expansion

Dreams Never Come True (Poems from the Underground)

Poems from the Underground Vol. 2

Connect with Jason Wallace

Jason Wallace may be reached directly by e-mail at
[email protected]

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https://www.facebook.com/thepageofauthorjasonwallace

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https://www.facebook.com/authorjason.wallace