Annette

The honeymoon was everything he hoped it would be. For the most part. There were certain things that his Annette was adamant she would not consent to do under any circumstances. He tried to be philosophical. They had, after all not yet been married a week. While he didn't have the money for, say, a Caribbean jaunt. His parent's lakeside cabin gave them the privacy and quiet they both desired. And it had been fun. Teaching her strip poker and finally, tonight, at dusk, talking her into a bit of skinny dipping after he scouted the surrounding lakeshore and nearby woods to be absolutely certain that there was not another human around for miles.

As they sat about a fire in the cabin sipping hot chocolate, he took all of her in. Her nimbus of strawberry blonde curls fell to the middle of her back. The tee-shirt she had thrown on over her prominent bust over a bra thin enough to spy her nipples, still erect from the water's chill. The denim cut-off shorts clung to every curve and revealed her spectacular long legs. One shapely ankle in a well-worn sandal, was draped over her knee. She was so beautiful, utterly beguiling. She was also a complete innocent. She was completely pure. He was the first to know her intimately. Then came the answer to his innocent question. He could not get the story out of his head. In that moment, their relationship was forever altered. It started so innocently, his Annette hemming and hawing when he asked the conservative religious girl, if he, her groom was the first man to ever spy her naked.

She nervously twisted her wedding and engagement rings around her finger for a few circuits. "No," she said softly as she flushed scarlet.

"No?"

It was clear that he wanted her to elaborate. She was hesitant, but this was the man she had pledged her life to. In theory he could tell him anything. After a pause she continued.

"Remember I told you that I was in my cousin, Marla's wedding."

"Yes, you were eighteen or nineteen."

"Eighteen. The wedding was in a big hotel in New York City. My parents couldn't make it, so, with their blessing, I went alone. It was my first real adventure as an adult. I was hesitant to go; me, a quiet country girl in the bustling city of sin. I didn't know most of the other bridesmaids. I was strongly tempted to say no, but I didn't want to disappoint Marla. Marla and I had been inseparable as little girls, before she moved away. We both wanted to reconnect. It was a lavish wedding, seven bridesmaids! Marla's dad had been saving for his daughter's wedding since she was an infant. He invested well and decided to spend it all as ostentatiously a manner as possible.

We bridesmaids had a blast! We saw all the sights, visited museums and took in a game at Yankee Stadium. Marla was so kind and so funny. I didn't approve, of course, of all the naughty gifts she received at the hen party, but I tried to get into the spirit of things. She liked my gift well enough. That made me feel good because I selected it myself.

Marla's dad splurged for individual hotel rooms for all of us. What luxury! I was in awe. Maids in neat uniforms and room service! I was very glad that I said yes. Who knows when I'll get to live that large again? The wedding went off without a hitch! Marla's fiancé was SO handsome. I told Marla that all the groomsmen could have been male models. She replied that some of them were!"

"What did the groomsman assigned to you look like?" he inquired.

"He was blond and tall," she seemed wistful at the recollection before catching herself and continuing with, "But not as good looking as you, honey. You know I like darker men.

He squeezed her thigh lightly.

"He's not important, dear."

She rose from the loveseat and returned with a photo album. There was his Annette in a stunning burgundy gown arm-in-arm with an extremely handsome and tall blond college aged lad. Jealously tore through him. He studied the blond groomsman, wealth, money, women, he could tell that he was a born winner who lacked for nothing and succeeded at everything he essayed. He noted that his Annette seemed to be poured into the gorgeous dress, it clung alluringly to her bust like a second skin and revealed a completely tasteful, yet astonishingly alluring bit of décolletage! Perfectly made-up and wearing an incandescent smile, her already gorgeous looks were positively luminous. What he wouldn't have given to be that boy in that picture.

"Did he get fresh?" he asked. Wondering how the blond boy could resist.

"Oh, not at all! Jeremy was a perfect gentleman!"

"But..."

"I'll get to it, Harry, honey. Let me tell the story in my own way. And at my own pace."

He leaned in and kissed her.

"As I said, the wedding came off without a hitch. Then came the reception. What a gala! The band was one I recognized from TV! There was toast after toast, but I stuck to punch. No one told me that the punch was spiked. I didn't know punch could be spiked. It tasted very good indeed. Before the reception, I had not had a sip of any alcohol save communion wine. EVER. I had heard of people being drunk, but I had no first-hand experience.

"So, he did take advantage of you! Who was he, I'll kill him!"

"Harry, honey, it was three years ago!"

There was a long pause. She took a deep breath.

"In short order, I was staggering rather than walking. I'm afraid that I became something of a nuisance. I stumbled and almost fell flat on my face. Fortunately, one of the other groomsmen caught me."

"Who?"

"That doesn't matter. He took one look at me and said in a charming southern drawl, "'Little darling, booze is clearly not your thing. We need to get you up to your room so that you can sleep this off, little lady.'" He steered me towards the elevator. As we rode up, the motion made me nauseous, and I threw up all over myself. The world spun. Everything was dark and quiet. My dreams were SO strange! In the morning, my head felt like there was a kettle drum player inside performing the saber dance. Then I realized that I was stark naked between the sheets! On the chair by the bed, was the entirety of my underclothes, expertly folded. My shoes were on the floor in front of the chair. I didn't remember getting undressed and I certainly was in no shape to so nicely fold my intimates. Obviously, someone had undressed me! While I was still contemplating that fact, there was knock at the hotel room door. I stepped out of bed, found my robe and answered the knock. A bellhop stood in the hallway with my bridesmaid dress on a hanger. Someone had seen to it that it was dry-cleaned and returned to me. I looked around for a tip for the bellboy, but he said it was unnecessary as he had "'already received his gratuity.""

Dumbly, I accepted the dress. It had been cleaned expertly. Believe that fabric stained easily the other girls and I were on tenterhooks in fear of food scraps and liquid spills. With my dress was a note.

"Little lady, it is a gentleman's responsibility to see to it that an inebriated belle of the ball comes to no harm. I saw to it that your comfort was maximized, and I take nothing away from my errand of mercy except the satisfaction of a job well done. Yours sincerely, Clay."

"Clay?" he interjected.

"Short for Clayton. He was older than me. He was a college friend of the groom and came from a distinguished southern family."

"And he undressed you? I mean, he took off EVERYTHING?" asked the new husband.

Annette nodded and flushed all over.

"When I called Mara after she returned from her honeymoon to tell her about it, she just laughed. "Leave it to my shy country cousin to be the one to get naked in front of a playboy at MY reception!"

"I tried to continue the conversation. Do you think he?"

"Oh, heavens no! I'm sure the thrill of stripping down an eighteen-year-old virgin and putting her to bed was a serendipitous adventure he hadn't planned on but would never think of missing! She chuckled and said, "'For the most part, Clay totally believes that southern gallant gentleman horse crap. You can tell that by the care with which he folded your unmentionables. An ordinary guy would just have tossed them on the floor. He even made sure your stockings weren't turned inside out! THAT my innocent cousin, is class! Your first manly unveiling was at the hands of a true connoisseur of female pulchritude! You lucky girl! I'm almost jealous. I'm sure you made his night and you, no doubt, will be lodged as a pleasant memory in his skull until the end of time."

Annette took another long breath and let it out slowly.

"So darling, as much as it hurts, you are not the first man to see me naked."

Her eyes met his.

"I hope this doesn't raise a wall between us, honey. I was drunk, passed out."

He kissed her.

"It's fine, darling."

They sipped the hot coco and watched the flames in the fireplace devour a log.

"What were you wearing under that dress?"

"Darling, I don't want ghosts in our bedroom!"

"Telling me won't create ghosts, it will banish them."

"Darling," she stroked his cheek, "I'm sure you believe that, but."

"I'm your husband. It is your duty to tell me."

"What will it accomplish, Harry?"

"I must know!"

She sighed, rolled her eyes.

"Black thigh-high stockings with a garter. Mara had us all wear the same sexy things under our dresses in a spirit of camaraderie. Black lace panties, black brassiere, a white camisole and a burgundy underskirt."

He could just see his bride in black, almost transparent lace. Her wedding trousseau had been white and not particularly frilly. But Annette was a conservative girl. The get up underneath it all at Mara's wedding must have made Annette look like a French whore! He could just picture this Clay fellow contemplating Annette in just the black frillies. What would he take off first? The bra to spy Annette's luscious virgin tits or unhook the stockings from the garter and slowly roll off the nylons? Could he spy her strawberry blonde bush through the sheer knickers? Did Clay turn her over and examine Annette from all angles? He certainly would have. He was suddenly, painfully erect.

He kissed her deeply.

She withdrew.

"You're thinking about that now, seeing me through Clay's eyes!"

"Naturally, honey. You should be flattered."

Her eyes sparkled in an unpleasant way. "You want me drunk and unconscious so you can do what you want to me!"

"Now, honey." It was neither and admission nor a denial.

"This is what I mean by ghosts, Harry! You want to be Clay, stripping the innocent country girl, silently assessing her, comparing her physique to every other female you have undressed. It's sick, Harry!"

"You're not a guy."

"Well, you certainly aren't a gentleman."

"Don't be that way, honey!"

"Be what way? Angry that her man wants her to be something she is not? Am I supposed to be flattered by the idea that you want me inebriated and helpless? You wouldn't just stop at undressing me, Mister Harry Wilson! You'd... you'd..."

She turned from him and broke out in tears.

"Baby doll..."

"I'm not your baby doll. I'm your wife, your partner, your equal."

"You are also my sex partner."

"You don't want a partner; Harry you want a naked drunken toy you can play with. You'd do all those dirty things to me! All that stuff you asked for the first night we were married. You'd put your thing up my bum! You'd make me swallow your seed! You'd take pictures! You're disgusting!"

She stormed out of the cabin. Went to sit on the bench by the shore. Night had descended, the crickets sang, and the mosquitos began biting. Annette refused to scratch.

He took his time coming after her. He had a fresh cup of hot chocolate as a peace offering. "I'm sorry honey. You are right. I am being a jerk."

She sipped the coco with deliberation.

"Yes, you are."

She took another deep sip.

"These bugs will eat us alive. Let's go inside and play Monopoly or something, like a couple of kids on a date and not as husband and wife."

"I like the sound of that."

**

She had trouble keeping her eyes open. It wasn't all that late in the evening. Perhaps it was all that fresh air and sun all day? She passed Go. Her head drooped. She was dead to the world. Harry smiled as he toted his new bride to the huge bed in his parent's cabin. He set her down and contemplated her insensate form. Before he did anything else he made sure to hide his mother's spare bottle of sleeping pills in a place completely inaccessible to his Annette. She'd never suspect that hot chocolate could be spiked as well. He gathered up his cellphone and took a few pictures. Gently, he removed her sandals. She had such lovely little feet. The night was still young -- he'd accomplish so much before dawn. His fingers reached for the edge of her tee-shirt...