Surrounded by piles of bridal photos and magazines, you sat at the dining room table, completely overwhelmed. You’d been looking at gowns of all styles, shapes, and colors for hours – mermaid and A-line, ivory and blush; there were simply too many options. This was usually when Thomas would swoop in, remarking how much he liked one of the options, and the decision was made. But you wanted the dress to be a surprise.
“Because this is the last wedding gown I’m ever going to wear, Mr. Hiddleston,” you said to the empty room. Suddenly remembering you had a lunch date with your
fiancé, you looked down at your diamond encrusted watch to see that you were late. “Oh, shit.”
You dumped a few magazines into your oversized bag, slipping into a pair of matching Louboutin pumps. Heading out the door, you sent a text to Thomas as the elevator carried you downstairs.
{On my way!! Distracted by a pile of gowns.}
{I’m sure whatever you choose will look lovely on the floor of our honeymoon suite.}
You arrived at Thomas’s office, strutting through the door. As soon as you realized the reception area was completely empty, an idea occurred to you. You unbuttoned your silk top, baring your black lace bra. With your hand on the doorknob, you took a deep breath in as you pushed the door wide open, striking a pose in the door frame.
“Hello, lover.”
It was only then that you noticed Thomas’s assistant sitting across the desk from him, getting redder by the second. You rushed to close your top as Thomas tried to hide his laughter.
“Are you speaking to me or Miss Trevor?” he spoke between giggles.
“Thomas, really!” you said as his assistant tried to squeeze past you in the doorway, desperate to leave the room. “Please don’t go. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine, really! We were finished,” she said, closing the door in a hurry.
You turn to Thomas, whose head was still in his hands, trying to hide his laughter. “It’s not funny!”
“On the contrary, my love. You always make an impression,” he said, finally composing himself enough to stand and pull out a chair for you. “Actually, it was probably good that this happened.”
You couldn’t possibly fathom how anything even remotely positive could come from your own embarrassment. “Care to explain?”
“Well, Clara has always been a bit frightened of you.” A puzzled look fell over your face. “My assistant…” Thomas added. “You’ve been here how many times and you don’t even know her name?”
“Well! She’s so quiet. She practically runs away every time I’m here,” you said, motioning to what just happened in the doorway.
“Maybe she didn’t like your bra,” Thomas teased. “You know, she could probably help us out with some wedding planning. She’s truly remarkable when it comes to research. I could tell her what we’re looking for in a venue, and she could find it within the hour.”
“Really?” Your interest was piqued. Everything had been going to smoothly until you and Thomas started looking for a venue. It didn’t help that you weren’t exactly sure what you even wanted. “Do you think she would?”
“I don’t see why not. You don’t want to hire a wedding planner, so maybe this could be a solution. Just a little help when necessary.”
“I told you, Thomas, I’m not handing our day over to anyone. It’s what I’ve always done in the past, but I want to be more involved this time.” You weren’t a superstitious woman, but if three weddings coordinated by event planners had ended in divorce, you were willing to do the work yourself if it meant you and Thomas could live happily ever after. “I have to admit, I could use the help, though.”
“Why don’t you go to lunch together? I have some briefings to catch up on before my appointments this afternoon anyway. Get to know each other, talk about the wedding, see how it goes,” he said, reaching into his wallet.
“But I was looking forward to lunch with you,” you said, taking the credit card from Thomas’s grasp as you sat down on his lap. You took his curls between your fingers, expressing your displeasure with a firm tug.
“You better go before I have you right here on my desk,” said Thomas.
“Yes, sir,” you whispered into his ear before setting off for the door. Looking back, you saw Thomas licking his lips, watching your every move. You strolled to the door, swaying your hips along the way. With a wink and a kiss, you were gone.
You sat on your balcony, sipping a glass of merlot as you waited for Thomas to come home. You knew when you left that you’d be in for an interesting night – you had seen that look in his eyes only once before. It had been the start of your longest, most passionate sex to date. Just thinking about it got your heart racing.
{There in 5. Wait for me in the bedroom.}
You tipped your wine glass back as you walked into the apartment. You left the empty glass on the dining room table and undressed, leaving a trail of clothes all the way to the bed. You sat stark naked on the bed as you heard Thomas’s keys in the door. After what felt like an eternity, Thomas sauntered into the bedroom, a glass of ice water in his hand. He placed it on the nightstand before he finally spoke.
“Would you like to try something new tonight?” he asked.
“Of course,” you replied. In the time you’ve been together, Thomas has introduced you to a great number of things you’d never tried before. Indian food. Ice skating. Vibrating panties. The look in his eyes told you this was not the night to be timid.
Never breaking eye contact, Thomas slowly undid his tie. The room was silent save for the faint sound of fabric sliding against itself. Finally, he yanked the tie from around his collar, sending a whipping sound through the air, giving you goosebumps.
“Cover your eyes,” Thomas said, tossing the tie onto your lap. You pick it up, turning over in your hands as you contemplated complying. You could say no. Toss it onto the floor and let him spank you a few times for refusing. You always enjoyed that. What would happen if you put on the blindfold, you didn’t know – but you wanted to.
Carefully, you tie the fabric around your head, knotting it tightly in the back. You listened closely for any clues as to what would come next.
“Lie on your back,” he instructed. You leaned back on your elbows, scooting yourself to the center of the bed. You lay on your back, perfectly still, unsure of what to expect next. Just then, you felt Thomas brush his hand against your thigh. He gently massaged every muscle in each of your legs, the stress of the day slowly melting away. Finally, to your relief, his fingers slipped between your thighs.
“Spread your legs,” said Thomas in a low growl. You did as you were told, sliding your heels across the satin sheets. “Bend your knees. I want to see all of you.”
Your damp skin was cold as your lips spread apart. There was no hiding your desire any longer. Unable to see anything but darkness, your other senses were hyper-aware. The cold air breezing across your center, the subtle scent of Thomas’s cologne, the soft padding of his footsteps to the nightstand to take a drink. Your breath clutched in your chest as you heard him climb onto the bed. You felt the weight of his body pressing into the mattress, yet not so much as a single breath on your skin.
His arms wrap around your thighs as he settles in on his elbows. It took you a moment to comprehend what happened next – a freezing cold surface passed over your labia, sending ice through your veins. Thomas let the cube slide from between his lips onto the top of your mound. You try to wiggle it away, but Thomas was holding you perfectly still. Droplets melted from your warmth, sliding into the folds of your center. That’s when he started to blow – as if the ice-cold water wasn’t chilling enough on its own. Your pearl tingled; your legs quivered.
“Thomas…” you gasped.
His long tongue flickered over your center before replying. “Yes?”
“I’m going to get you back for this,” you said.
“I’m counting on it.” Your words were like fuel on his fire. His appetite was ravenous; he lapped up your desire, savoring the sweet juices. He squeezed tight on your curves every time you let out a moan, leaving marks wherever he touched. He wanted you to wake up tomorrow knowing exactly who you belonged to.
“Thomas, please…” you begged for your release.
Every time he felt you approaching climax, he stopped. The past hour was absolute torture – and you were loving every minute of it.
“Not now, darling,” he said, pulling the tie from your face. “I’m not done with you yet.”
Thomas got to his knees, unbuttoning his shirt before tossing it to the floor. You watch as he undoes his belt, then the button on his pants. He finally reaches the zipper, his solid erection eager to escape. He tried wriggling out of his trousers, but his anticipation got the better of him.
“Oh, fuck it,” he said as he leaned over your body, pressing himself into you. You gasped for air as if you’d been held underwater, finally free. He filled you, consumed you, made you feel whole. You closed your eyes, letting the pleasure spread through your body – but Thomas took your chin in his hand, directing you to face him straight on.
“Open your eyes,” he commanded. “I want you to look at me while I’m fucking you.”
You did as you were told, not daring to break eye contact for even a moment. He wrapped his arms around your knees, holding you tight as he thrusted hard and slow. You moaned every time he slammed into you, crying out for more as he took his time sliding back out. Then, with a quick jerk of his hips, he’d slam right back in.
Your body writhed with agony. Your hands were everywhere – through your hair, cupping your breasts, tugging on the sheets. Thomas himself was just out of reach, slick with sweat, his curls clinging to his forehead. He looked around, finding the tie he had tossed to the side. He took your wrists into his hands, pinning them above your head as he tied them tightly to the headboard.
“If you want to cum, you’re going to have to earn it.” He kissed your forehead as his pace evened out; he moved to your lips, demanding deep, slow kisses as he swirled his hips into yours. You knew exactly what he wanted; you opened your mouth to him, taking in his warm, slick tongue. You were tempted to bite it, but that was no way to earn your finish.
He kissed longer and deeper as he felt your walls tightening around him. You moaned beneath the pressure of his lips, longing to break free. Finally, your pleasure peaked, your legs shaking against Thomas’s bare, slick torso. He finally pulled away from the kiss, wanting to watch as you come undone – as you screamed his name. You twist and tremble beneath him, warm satisfaction spreading from your curled toes to your limp wrists.
“You’re a very good girl,” Thomas said as he kissed your forehead, still inside you. He released you from the headboard, and not a moment too soon.
“You’re a very bad boy,” you said. You pushed him onto his back, ready to take back your power. Thomas watched as you got to your knees between his legs; you looked directly into his eyes as you took him into your mouth, and this time it was he who didn’t dare look away.
You cover every inch of him, engulfing his length in the warmth of your mouth. A deep, growling moan escaped his throat as he quickly reached the point of no return. His fists closed around the loose sheets, and while you briefly consider denying him his finish, you know he earned it. He always did.
You didn’t leave a trace of his essence behind. You kiss a sweet, slow trail up Thomas’s body, finding your place by his side. You lie next to each other, staring up at the ceiling as your bodies come down from their highs. You looked over at Thomas, watching his chest rise and fall. You glanced further up to see his deep blue eyes staring back at you.
You stepped into the sunlight
on bustling Fifth Avenue. It was the first week of October, and first cold
weather of the season had arrived. Pulling your coat collar around your neck,
you threw your purse over your shoulder and set off down the street. After
a busy day of shopping, you were ready for the respite of home, a candle-lit
bath, and a glass of sweet red wine.
You stepped into the sunlight
on bustling Fifth Avenue. It was the first week of October, and first cold
weather of the season had arrived. Pulling your coat collar around your neck,
you threw your purse over your shoulder and set off down the street. After
a busy day of shopping, you were ready for the respite of home, a candle-lit
bath, and a glass of sweet red wine.
The
street felt particularly crowded this afternoon – perhaps it was all the
shopping bags in your hands from a variety of your favorite stores. Thomas had
been busy with an especially messy divorce all the way in Rochester, leaving
you to spend your time doing one of two things – rattling around your empty
apartment, alone with thoughts of babies and families, or getting out of the
house and spending copious amounts of money. Today you were doing the latter,
but fortunately you had a purpose; your mission was to find an enticing set of
lingerie to celebrate Thomas’s return to the City. You’d spent hours in your
favorite boutique trying on every option you could find, even venturing into
colors and styles you didn’t usually go for. Nothing surprised Thomas more
than when you ventured from your comfort zone.
You were just about home when someone hit you, hard on the shoulder, as they hurried
by in the opposite direction. You dropped nearly all of your shopping bags, your hand clutching to the point of impact.
“God!”
you shouted, whirling around, ready to tear into whoever dared to
shoulder-check you, but it was too late. They had vanished into the
crowd. You stood in
the middle of the sidewalk, completely stunned that someone would do
such a
thing. When the pain began to subside, you gathered up your bags. As you
turn
to walk away, you notice you’d been standing in front of a Baby Gap the
whole time.
Curious, and certain no one inside would recognize you, you pulled on
the heavy
glass doors and stepped inside.
Every
candle in your apartment was lit, setting the mood for the romantic
dinner you’d planned for Thomas. You ordered the entire meal from his
favorite restaurant
and had them deliver the meal to your apartment – you wanted to spend
the evening completely
alone with your wonderful boyfriend. He had texted you earlier in the
day, letting
you know he would be over around 7, and mentioned something about a
surprise.
{I have a surprise
for you, too, mister.}
You were wearing your new lingerie – a strappy bra with matching panty and garter you got
especially for Thomas’s homecoming. Elastic bands wrapped around your entire
body, from your collar bone down to your thighs. It had been a nightmare to get
into, but once you had it right, you knew Thomas would love it. He’d been
hinting around at tying you up lately, and you were beginning to come
around to the idea.
Just as you finished
setting the table, the doorbell alerted you to Thomas’s arrival. You
practically ran to the door, giving yourself a final check in the mirror
before
answering the door. Red lips, a fresh blow out, Thomas’s favorite heels –
you were ready. You took a deep breath, thrusting your breasts into the
air and
opened the door.
“Hello, handsome,”
you said, barely getting the words out before you were wrapped in Thomas’s
arms. He cradled your head in his hands, holding tight as he dipped you in
one swift motion. He devoured you with deep, passionate kisses. Finally, he
spun you upright, still holding your face in his hands.
“I missed you,
too,” you said with a smile.
“We’ll get to what
you’re wearing in a moment,” he said, looking you up and down, “but my God,
I’ve missed those lips,” Thomas said, once again taking your lips between his.
“You know, we do
have plans this evening, Mister Hiddleston. Unless you’d like to forget it all and
get naked,” you said, hoping for the latter.
Thomas made a
thoughtful face, then stood up and straightened his tie. “No, ma’am. I’ve got
big things planned for us tonight. But perhaps when we return home…” he trailed
off, teasing you with one last, lingering kiss.
At Thomas’s
insistence, you finally tore yourselves apart long enough to eat dinner.
And,
at your own insistence, you put on a few more layers of clothes before
you left. You had no idea where he was taking you and, for once, didn’t
care. The
man you loved was by your side once again, and that was all that
mattered. It
was only when the two of you strolled up to Rockefeller Center that you
could tear your eyes
away from him.
“Thomas, no!”
you said in disbelief.
“Darling, yes,”
he said.
Your emotions
overwhelmed you. It was what the two of you had done on your very first
date, where you had been completely terrified – of skating, of letting
go, and especially of Thomas. This time, you couldn’t be more excited.
You’d opened yourself up to the possibility of love and had been
rewarded tenfold. He took you by the hand and walked to the rental desk,
where brand new skates were waiting for you both.
“Nice to see you
again, Mr. Hiddleston!” the attendant said.
Of course he’s been here to set this up.
Thomas was such a thoughtful man – you couldn’t wait to do everything in
the
world with him. After putting on your skates, the two of you headed for
the ice. There would be
no hesitation this time – you couldn’t wait to get out there. Hand in
hand, you glided onto the rink. It was a brisk evening, just cold enough
for Thomas to hold you close as you skated around. It was only the
first cold snap of the season, but you were
already imagining spending the snowy winter wrapped in his warm embrace.
As the crowd
thinned, it occurred to you that you’d been skating for hours, not
once letting go of each other’s grasp. The last family left the rink, leaving
you and Thomas alone on the ice.
“Look how great
you’re doing, love,” he encouraged. Excited to show him what you could
do, you ventured out on your own for the very first time.
Step. Push. Glide. Step. Push. Glide.
“Ha! Look at that!
I don’t even need you,” you joked.
“You certainly
don’t need me. But I do hope you want me,” he murmured.
“You know
I do,
silly,” you said, reaching back for his hand. When you didn’t find it,
you turned to see where he was – and where he was took your breath away.
You clutched your heart as you saw Thomas W. Hiddleston on one knee, a
diamond ring sparkling in
his hand. You started to cry before he could even begin to speak.
“Darling,
you’re the love of my life,” he began, your tears evoking his own. He
sniffled before continuing. “Would you do me the honor of
becoming my wife?” He looked up at you expectantly, hoping you would
answer
before his heart beat straight out of his chest.
Struggling to
maintain your balance, and your composure, you nodded enthusiastically. “Of
course. Of course!” you squealed. You fell into his arms, holding his cold cheeks in
your hands. You’d never seen this side of him before – nervous, and uncertain. You kissed him, over
and over, until you were convinced he knew just how much you loved him. Finally,
you sat down on his knee as your attention turned to the ring.
“It’s so
beautiful,” you said. Thomas steadied his trembling hand to slide the vintage
Tiffany ring onto your perfectly manicured finger.
“Perfect fit,” he said.
“Perfect fit,” you agreed, looking into his glistening blue eyes. He was talking about the ring;
you were talking about your future husband. “You’re going to be my husband!” you shouted in disbelief.
He giggled over
your excitement, his nerves finally subsiding. “You’re going to be my wife!” He
looked at the ring on your finger and realized that every decision he’d made in
his life – good and bad – had led him to you. He wrapped his hand around yours and held it close to his heart.
“What do you say
we go home and celebrate, hmm? Pop some champagne and go absolutely crazy on
each other?” he said with a growl.
“Yes, yes!” you said, absolutely giddy.
A newly engaged
couple, the two of you walked back to your apartment, stopping off for a bottle of Dom
Perignon. You made sure to keep Thomas on your right side the entire
time, unable to keep your eyes off the new piece of jewelry on your left hand.
Though you’d been proposed to three times before, you’d never felt like this –
so absolutely certain that a life of happiness and love lay before you. He made
you a better person – changed you in ways you never thought possible, and now
he would change your last name as well.
With your
left hand occupied by Thomas, you rode in his shiny Jag with your right hand
clamped onto the door handle. It was a crisp Spring morning – the perfect
weather for driving, top down, to the countryside. It was his niece’s birthday
party, and he couldn’t have been more excited to introduce his family to the
woman he loved – and you couldn’t have been more nervous.
“Hello, handsome,”
you said as you answered the door, barely getting the words out before you were wrapped in Thomas’s
arms. He cradled your head in his hands, holding you tight as he dipped you in
one swift motion. He devoured you with deep, passionate kisses. Finally, he
spun you upright, still holding your face in his hands.
“I missed you,
too,” you said with a smile.
“We’ll get to what
you’re wearing in a moment,” he said, looking you up and down, “but my God,
I’ve missed those lips,” Thomas said, once again taking your lips between his
own.
“You know, we do
have plans this evening, Mister Hiddleston. Unless you’d like to forget it all and
get naked,” you said, hoping for the latter.
Thomas made a
thoughtful face, then stood up and straightened his tie. “No, ma’am. I’ve got
big things planned for us tonight. But perhaps when we return home…” he trailed
off, teasing her with one last, lingering kiss.
Painfully Thick Imagines 