1. Eating Breakfast In Glass Slippers


    Date: 11/8/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: TheScheherezadeFeint, Rating: 26, Source: LushStories

    you're family are on their way.” Totally unable to process, I ignore him, moaning less than gibberish in the face of this important news, and rolling to face the pillow. He waits. A moment, then another. Snapping out of it for a moment, I sit up like a bolt of lightning, and manage to exclaim as though I'm properly aware, “Shit! Thank you, Matty.” “Come on sweetie. Let's get you cleaned up a little.” “Cleaned up?” I ask, in fact still delirious. “Yeah. You can't wear that. You're sort of a mess, honestly.” “Ouch.” “I know, but seriously. Look.” I stand, and look at myself the standing mirror in the corner of the room. “Who's that?” I ask, not nearly as ironically as Matt thinks. I step closer and examine her, “Oh.” “Yeah.” “I can't go to breakfast like this.” “Not with your father.” “Not with my mother.” “Regardless...” he says. “Fine,” I say, “Help me.” “What?” “Isn't this what friends are for the day after your failed wedding? Please.” “...Convincing.” “Thank you...” I say so quietly he almost can't hear. The next moments are long and awkward. He helps me out of my dress; a somewhat involved process. Fortunately he was the one who helped me into it. “You really did a number on this thing,” he says, examining the dress as he helps me out of it. “Would you believe me if I said I fell down some stairs?” I ask, trying to laugh and failing spectacularly. Failing with a few tears. “Oh, it's okay. I'm sorry, honey. I was just thinking and it happened out loud. Come on, we'll ...
    get you ready,” he says. I'm naked now. And tired. Just so tired still. Matt walks me to the bathroom, and helps me into the shower, where I sit on the large seat. Freakin' honeymoon suite. Not even my style. His hotel, his idea. His fucking breakfast we're going downstairs to. That's it. Enough. A scream. A loud one. I think it came from me. I catch her in the mirror again. She's crying again. No, it's definitely me. Damn. I'm properly awake. Yep. This is my life. I'm wet now. He's turned on the shower... “You didn't want to ask if I'm alright after that scream?” He just looks at me for a moment, as if extremely puzzled, then says, “Of course you're not alright.” - - - “...And that's the last thing I can remember for a little while, I think,” I tell them. I do not share every detail with them as it appears, but instead lead them to tell me some of it. It is blurry, but more than that, I expect I won't want them to all to know some of the parts they weren't there for. “Well,” Matt says, “I excused myself once you discovered the shower-head and decided it was a good idea.” Damn. “Well, eventually you both came downstairs for breakfast.” “Yeah. She put on a more appropriate dress and came down, but she wasn't doing too good,” says Matt, stroking my back comfortingly, and maybe a little mockingly. I can never tell with him. He's right though, I really wasn't... - - - I could barely hold my head up, as Matt toweled me off. Once dry I just hugged him and cried for a while. “What's ...
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