Russell reaches into his pocket for the key card in his wallet outside the hotel suite door. He fumbles and drops the access card to the ground, goes to a knee to pick it up, and awkwardly laughs and grins back up to the sight of his beautiful but uneasy new bride. He grabs her hand, gently kisses her on the forehead, and slides the card into the door handle.
*Red light blinks*
Another uncomfortable chuckle fills the silence. Russ tries again.
*Red light blinks*
“Oh, golly-gee this would happen to us,” voices a timid Russell. “I’ll just run down to the lobby and be back in a jiffy.”
Russ races to the elevators and leaves Ciara at the room door before she’s able to comprehend her husband sprinting away. She then reaches into her bag, grabs out a key card, and lets herself in.
“Get it together, Russell. You’re at the one-yard line,” a now-sweating Russ says to himself in the elevator mirror. “Just keep it simple and run the ball in this time.”
After an unwanted five-minute conversation with the front desk answering questions about “American” football, Russ receives a new key card and dashes back to the elevator. As he reaches his door, he’s confused by the whereabouts of his wife.
The hotel door opens. Standing in front of him is his sex-starved bride in white lingerie. She grabs him by the crotch and leads him into the room, pushing him onto a rose petal covered bed. Candles are lit, some soft R&B plays in the background.
Ciara undoes Russell’s belt and rips off his pants and boxer briefs. Just as she goes to put her lips around his piece, he interrupts. “I’ll…I’ll be right back.”
Russ wobbles over to the bathroom with his pants around his ankles. The frustration builds within Ciara.
He grabs a pill and flask labeled “miracle water” out of his jacket. He pops the pill, takes a swig of the water, and starts slapping his lowhang whispering “Come on 12th man. Need you to bring the noise.”
Ciara swings open the door and attacks Russ — throwing him on the bathroom counter. She climbs atop of the super bowl winning quarterback and drops the “Ride” music video move without insertion.
A shaking Russell blows the heaviest, longest load onto the stomach of Ciara — still not officially consummating the marriage.
Ciara stumbles back and falls onto a bidet while setting it off — all in one motion. The toilet water blasts her directly in the clit and is the most satisfying sensation she’s felt in years.
“Wow. That was incredible,” an out of breath Russ says aloud. “Talk about a two-minute drill.”
“Give me a few minutes, and I’m sure I can go again.”
“Sure…I’ll meet you in bed. Just give me a few minutes to…uh…wash up.”
The next morning:
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