A Modern Jack and Jill
The Wedding
It was a 34 hour and 46 minute drive straight to Nevada. Sandrine had been asking Matt what this business was but he never quite answered her. Except he did plant a possibility within her mind.
“Well I have set a time and place for our marriage.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“But what about my dress and hair and invitations and…”
“You’ll have plenty of time to fuss over that.”
The trip dragged by almost too slowly, the boys knew why their leader was headed for Vegas, but for Sandrine, it was still a mystery. When they did arrive, Zacky had been very edgy that day. He had been dropping obvious hints that Sandrine should run away and get outta dodge, but she knew she couldn’t. Matt would find her. He was so quick to catch her trail, never once faltering in step. Zack had also been dropping hints saying that today was ‘the day’. Sandrine tried her hardest to ignore those gestures for if it truly was, she’d be overwhelmed with grief. She wouldn’t have anyone other than the guys to share her happy day.
Just as they walked back on the bus, Matt came to the front in a white dress shirt, gold dress pants and jacket, but a black tie to throw it all off, very gangster yet not.
“Darling, I bought you a dress in back if you would go slip into it for me.”
Sandrine nodded, walking to the back of the bus. In the closet was a dress, cream in color, had a small train, halter strap the front looked like a corset but had sewn fold giving off that effect. Her eyes dropped, but hurried to slip into the dress.
When she emerged, Brian was waiting for her at the front of the bus, everyone else was gone. He put out his arm and Sandrine took it. There was a white car waiting outside. They both got in and Brian drove over to Apollo’s Palace. It was a chapel and when Sandrine exited the car, Brian led her to meet Zacky waiting at the end of the aisle with a dozed deep red almost brown red roses. Zacky gave them to her, and then the boys walked down the way to stand with Johnny and Jimmy. All four guys were wearing black.
The music started up and Sandrine proceeded down the aisle. She couldn’t help but think of the irony of her wedding. Her wedding was so surreal to her, like the bonanza of it was just done at a whim. There were no official guests, no bride’s maids, no ring bearer; she was surprised that Matt had even bought rings. Everything seemed as superficial as that of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and even more so with the seventh myth, Apollo and Daphne. Except Sandrine had no real way of getting out, and becoming a tree like Daphne did. The clothes were even out of place; Matt had the look of glorious golden Apollo and it Daphne hadn’t been saved, she pictured that she would look like Sandrine looked now.
In his eyes, though, lay some secret, a promise that everything would get better or everything she ever wanted would be at her feet. Sandrine melted at that look, almost forgetting the emotion of turning and running away. She had forgotten or at least over looked the black singe that was upon everything, even her own reflection had that touch of black. She tittered down the rest of the hall and the marriage between Sandrine Beech and Mathew Sanders began.
It didn’t take loge for the priest to announce ‘you may now kiss the bride’ when Matt dissolved her into nothing with his kiss. He picked her up and ran to the suite Matt had bought for the night. The suite was big and luxurious as most suites are, with red and gold. The guys gave the newlyweds an hour to get comfortable.
Matt was going insane from the impulse he had to take the dress off and take her right there but it had to wait till night fall. Instead he ravished her, laving small red dots along both sides of her neckline, massaging her back and other little tid-bits for getting under her skin.
The guys came up in exactly an hour as promised and they drank in celebration. Sandrine was placed in between Matt’s legs. They partied it up for a while then the guys crashed on the couch, Matt taking Sandrine to the bedroom to consummate the marriage.
A week and three days later, Sandrine was at the porcelain pot dumping out her stomach and then some. They went back to California, to pack for their honeymoon.
“Well I have set a time and place for our marriage.”
“When?”
“Soon.”
“But what about my dress and hair and invitations and…”
“You’ll have plenty of time to fuss over that.”
The trip dragged by almost too slowly, the boys knew why their leader was headed for Vegas, but for Sandrine, it was still a mystery. When they did arrive, Zacky had been very edgy that day. He had been dropping obvious hints that Sandrine should run away and get outta dodge, but she knew she couldn’t. Matt would find her. He was so quick to catch her trail, never once faltering in step. Zack had also been dropping hints saying that today was ‘the day’. Sandrine tried her hardest to ignore those gestures for if it truly was, she’d be overwhelmed with grief. She wouldn’t have anyone other than the guys to share her happy day.
Just as they walked back on the bus, Matt came to the front in a white dress shirt, gold dress pants and jacket, but a black tie to throw it all off, very gangster yet not.
“Darling, I bought you a dress in back if you would go slip into it for me.”
Sandrine nodded, walking to the back of the bus. In the closet was a dress, cream in color, had a small train, halter strap the front looked like a corset but had sewn fold giving off that effect. Her eyes dropped, but hurried to slip into the dress.
When she emerged, Brian was waiting for her at the front of the bus, everyone else was gone. He put out his arm and Sandrine took it. There was a white car waiting outside. They both got in and Brian drove over to Apollo’s Palace. It was a chapel and when Sandrine exited the car, Brian led her to meet Zacky waiting at the end of the aisle with a dozed deep red almost brown red roses. Zacky gave them to her, and then the boys walked down the way to stand with Johnny and Jimmy. All four guys were wearing black.
The music started up and Sandrine proceeded down the aisle. She couldn’t help but think of the irony of her wedding. Her wedding was so surreal to her, like the bonanza of it was just done at a whim. There were no official guests, no bride’s maids, no ring bearer; she was surprised that Matt had even bought rings. Everything seemed as superficial as that of Ovid’s Metamorphoses, and even more so with the seventh myth, Apollo and Daphne. Except Sandrine had no real way of getting out, and becoming a tree like Daphne did. The clothes were even out of place; Matt had the look of glorious golden Apollo and it Daphne hadn’t been saved, she pictured that she would look like Sandrine looked now.
In his eyes, though, lay some secret, a promise that everything would get better or everything she ever wanted would be at her feet. Sandrine melted at that look, almost forgetting the emotion of turning and running away. She had forgotten or at least over looked the black singe that was upon everything, even her own reflection had that touch of black. She tittered down the rest of the hall and the marriage between Sandrine Beech and Mathew Sanders began.
It didn’t take loge for the priest to announce ‘you may now kiss the bride’ when Matt dissolved her into nothing with his kiss. He picked her up and ran to the suite Matt had bought for the night. The suite was big and luxurious as most suites are, with red and gold. The guys gave the newlyweds an hour to get comfortable.
Matt was going insane from the impulse he had to take the dress off and take her right there but it had to wait till night fall. Instead he ravished her, laving small red dots along both sides of her neckline, massaging her back and other little tid-bits for getting under her skin.
The guys came up in exactly an hour as promised and they drank in celebration. Sandrine was placed in between Matt’s legs. They partied it up for a while then the guys crashed on the couch, Matt taking Sandrine to the bedroom to consummate the marriage.
A week and three days later, Sandrine was at the porcelain pot dumping out her stomach and then some. They went back to California, to pack for their honeymoon.