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I got measured and everything for it, although even after all that fuss and bother I had only worn the bloody thing twice since. Third time’s the charm, as they say. It wouldn’t quite make up for the money I spent but if I could help show up Maggie’s evil ex and bitchy step-sister at their own engagement party, it would still be worth it.
I stared at my watch, willing time to go faster so I could go pick Maggie up. It worked about as well as Knut telling the tide not to come in, but time did eventually get there out of its own accord. I was fairly sure I left a vapour trail behind when I ran out of the house to the car. Dave King and his band were picking up right where they’d left off.
Calming myself lest I break the button, I pushed the buzzer for Maggie’s apartment, and awaited her reply.
“Hello?” came her sweet voice through the old intercom.
“Yer chariot awaits, dear lady,” I said, bowing deeply, even though I was pretty sure she couldn’t see it.
“I’ll be right down!” she said, clearly as excited as I was.
“I shall await yer arrival wit’ baited breath,” I said, keeping up the pseudo-shakespearian hoo-ha.
I thought she would like it and they had made us learn it in school so I figured I might as well put it to some use.
“You look great,” she said, as she came through the door, seeing me in my bespoke finery.
I didn’t say anything in return. I was far too busy returning my jaw to its proper position after lifting it up off the ground to pretend to speak in Shakespearian bedazzlement anymore.
My gaze fixed mostly on the mid-section of the dress Maggie was wearing, particularly the lacy bit on her torso. The effect was only re-enforced by the fact that she had worn her hair down. I had no idea how long it was, reaching easily down to her waist. The only mechanism of control that she had added to her hair was a thin silver wreath of tiny metallic leaves encircling her head.
Suddenly I felt grossly under dressed.
“You like it?” she asked, doing a spin, setting the skirt whirling about her, giving a tantalizing glimpse of her bare legs.
All I could do was nod in stunned, mute appreciation of her unspeakable beauty. To try and pay tribute with mere words would be to sully the very endeavour.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” she said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before heading to the car.
I stood momentarily stupefied, hand over the cheek she had kissed before sharply slapping the other to made damn sure that I was indeed awake. Giving my head a good hard shake, I followed Maggie to the car, my eyes seemingly fixated on the gentle, hypnotic swaying of her hips.
As I drove the short distance to the party, I tried to keep my eyes on the road, even though I wanted to keep them glued to Maggie’s hot body and beautiful eyes. She commented favorably on my music, which was a big plus, and we sang the lyrics together as if we had known each other since high school – which would have been impossible considering how much older I was than her.
I decided to ask her about that while it was on my mind.
Turning the music down, I asked, “So, does it bother ye that yer fake fiancé is so much older than ye?”
“Not at all,” she said, smiling and – dare I presume – blushing. “I like people to think that I’m marrying someone so much more mature and… experienced than I am.”
Her cheeks were definitely turning an even darker shade of red when she said “experienced” – there was no wondering about it now. My cock got half-hard at the thought of showing her just how experienced I was. But I told myself to keep it under control because we were almost there.
I had been a bit worried to ask the question, but now I was glad I had. Not only had I found out that the age difference didn’t bother Maggie – hypothetically, of course, as a fake fiancé – but I had also got her to admit that she even liked the idea.
Once we arrived at the party, I saw that it was as fancy as Raquel’s apparel had implied. They had actually managed to book the park and had erected what looked like a tasteful surface tent. It had wooden floors, of course, lest her ladyship and her guests actually come into contact with filthy, brutish nature.
That wasn’t an attitude I particularly understood. I’d grown up in a city as well but also went out into the country at every given opportunity, driving so deep into the Republic that the local accents became almost unintelligible, to partake in the world’s finest supply of green rolling hills and craggy shoreline. It wasn’t much but it was what we had around us to do, and we did it really, really well.
