Original "I Do" - How Hayley met Tommy

[starpollen]

Formatting fixed!! 

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“I Do”

How Hayley met Tommy…

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“You worthless piece of shit!”

I kicked the tire, stubbing my toe through my thin tennis shoes which elicited a groan and another colorful string of cuss words.  Glancing at my phone, I groaned again, this time at the time. 

“You would do this today, wouldn’t you?” I asked the Prius, its white interior glowing in the hot sun.  Cars whizzed by, the air disturbance repeatedly shoving me away from the side of the highway where I was stranded, staring at my rental.

Knowing it wasn’t going to do any good, I fumbled around until I could find the release lever for the hood, propping it up with the little rod and glaring at the engine with enough hatred to melt any mortal creature where it stood.

Unfortunately, this machine was from my own personal hell, and therefore unmoved.

I knew very little about engines, let alone about hybrids.  But I felt marginally better to be doing something, even if that something wasn’t helpful.

A few minutes later, I heard the loud thrum-beat of a motorcycle slowing, and glanced up from under the hood to see a biker slowly rolling up behind the Prius.

He had one of those massive, vintage Harleys – the kind my older brothers would have given their left eyes to have – gleaming black and chrome.  It was big enough that even when its rider put the kickstand down the air-wake from the passing traffic didn’t budge it an inch.

And the rider…

A long leg swung over the seat, the man straightening and unhooking his visored helmet, giving me a sudden flash reminiscent of a medieval knight.  He was tall.  Broad shoulders, long limbs.  The helmet came off, and he took a few seconds to shake out his dark, shaggy hair, parted in the middle and brushing his ears.  When he turned to set the helmet on the seat, I saw the back of his head was cut short, shaved in a fashionable triangle at the top of his neck.

With his back still towards me, I watched as his big body suddenly bent, one gloved hand coming up to his face.  I couldn’t hear over the traffic, but either he had suddenly swatted a bug, or…

Then he turned and began to walk towards me, slowly, as if he was worried he would frighten me.  I imagined that he got that a lot: a big, brawny biker guy in head-to-toe black leather.  As he came alongside the car, I could see that his face was slightly tan, but the kind of barely-tan that came to skin that was naturally fair.  Dark sunglasses were perched on a nose that was as large as the rest of him, hovering over lips quirked in a wry smile.  I had to admit that he was handsome, ruggedly so.

“You okay?”

His voice was… beautiful.  Even over the roar of semis, I could hear the way its deep, husky bass slipped through the air like raw silk.

“I’m fine,” I huffed, refusing to be moved by a handsome, dangerous stranger.  I crossed my arms and glared under the hood again.  “This piece of shit isn’t.”

“Well, it’s a Prius,” he chuckled, coming to stand next to me so he could see the engine.  “What did you expect?”

I mentioned he was tall.  Standing next to me, he loomed like a giant.  I turned to squint up at him in the noon-high sun: I was a solid 5’7, but the top of my head barely came to his chin.

“How tall are you?” I asked before I could stop myself.  I’d always had that problem of ‘speak first, thinking too-late.’

“Six five.”

Oh.  Yeah, that’d about do it…

He bent his long frame over the engine, giving me a perfect view of his criminally tight ass…

“D-…” I swallowed, then tried again.  “Do you know anything about hybrid engines?” The summer temperature couldn’t completely explain the drop of sweat that trickled down from my throat to drip between my breasts.

His low, throaty chuckle echoed off the hood.  “Darlin, I know about pretty much every engine there is… ah.  There we are.”  He turned to look at me over his shoulder, one gloved hand coming up to move the sunglasses into his thick hair.

His eyes were bottle-green, just as beautiful as his voice.

And bloodshot, looking a little swollen.  Driving a motorcycle with a hangover, I thought.  Great.

“I’d bet money that your drive unit is shot,” he continued, pointing to a part of the engine that – to me – looked indistinguishable from the rest of it.  “This baby ain’t goin’ anywhere anytime soon.”

“Fucking shit,” I groaned, checking the time on my phone again.  I barely had any service, but I might be able to call the rental place and get them to bring another car.  But that meant I’d never make it in time…

He straightened, bringing a fist up to knuckle at his large nose.  “Whhehh… Where you headed?”

My gaze snapped to his face, able to see up-close that his nostrils were red-rimmed and fluttery, a tiny glimmer of wetness twinkling in the dark recesses.  Not hung-over, then.  A summer cold?...

“I was going to a wedding,” I replied, not daring to blink as his nostrils widened with a wet sniffle. 

His eyebrow quirked up, startled.  “Me, too.”

“Really?” I leaned back, naturally suspicious.

His eyes narrowed slightly, gaze going just a little hazy.  “Yeah. My old roommate, Mark Richardson.”

My mouth dropped open.  “I’m Heather’s Maid of Honor.”

Both of us looked at each other, shock plastered on our faces.

“Well,” he rumbled, “Isn’t this ahhh… c-coinci--… hh--sorry…” His handsome face crumpled, expression withering from ‘vague but surprised’ into ‘reluctantly sneezy.’

He turned away, profile silhouetted in the glaring sun as his nostrils quivered, breath hitching, one gloved hand quickly unzipping his leather jacket and diving inside, fumbling to bring a crumpled red bandana to his face.

Just in time.

“heh!!—R’EESSHHOOO!...” the thunderous sneeze roared over the whizzing vehicles, bending his huge body in half with its intensity.

My mouth watered, throat swallowing hard.  It was wet, desperate, completely consuming him.

I loved it.

“Bless--” I began.

But he flashed his other hand between us, pointer finger extended in the “wait” signal.   He slowly straightened, bandana still pressed to the lower half of his face, eyes crinkled shut.  When he was fully erect, he continued to lean back slightly, head moving back and forth in small, frustrated shakes.  Then, “AH-HEESSHOOO!—EESSHHOO!... hh-hih!!—G’RIXSSSHOO!!... HHEEAAASSHOOO!!...”

After the first body-bending sneeze, he turned his back to me, chest heaving and waist crunching repeatedly with each violent release.  When the fit was done, he stayed turned away as he blew wetly, closing one nostril and then the other, using both hands to pinch his nose between his fists and rubbing up and down in hard, itch-relieving strokes.

Finally, he uncurled his broad shoulders, heaved a frustrated sigh, and then gave a wipe at each eye before turning back.  His nose was scarlet, active with incessant sniffles, green eyes tired and watery.

“Bless you,” I breathed, unable to keep the awe out of my voice.  “That’s a helluva cold.”

He grimaced, subconsciously touching the crumpled bandana to the tip of his flushed nose in a self-conscious gesture.  “Dot a cold,” he answered, slightly congested.  “…this time…” those two words were soft, to himself.  “Allergies,” he growled out, roughly tucked the bandana back in his jacket with a liquid sniff.  “They’re bad this tibe of year.”

Daayammnn…

“What are you allergic to?” I asked before I could stop myself, mouth once again running ahead of my brain.

He scowled at the ground, an embarrassed blush rising in his stubbled cheeks as he rolled his eyes and rumbled, “Everything.” Tossing his hair out of his face, he turned back to the car.  “Anywho, this your car?”

“It’s a rental,” I put one hand on my hip.  “The wedding starts in just over 2 hours.  I’m supposed to be there in 20 minutes to get dressed and help the bride.” I heaved a frustrated sigh of my own, raising my phone and shading it with my other hand as I tried to see to open my contacts. “I’ll have to call the rental company for another car…”

“You can ride with me, if you want.”

I glanced up to find him studying me, his shoulders slouched in a ‘carefully practiced casual’ position.  He struck me suddenly as a knight-in-shining-armor type of guy, always ready to help someone in need but not always being welcome because of his appearance.

“‘Promise I’m not a psycho-killer,” he continued, confirming my suspicions.  He gave me a soft smile that was just a little shy, and it was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.

Well…

“HEEH…-RRRSSHOO!...”

Almost.

The bandana had been yanked out just in time, the lower half of his face disappearing behind it. 

“You gonna sneeze on me the whole way there?” I raised my eyebrows and flashed him a sassy, flirtatious grin.

He wiped his nose and lowered the bandana, smile widening from shy to amused even as his cheeks blushed scarlet.  “Can’t make any promises…”

I couldn’t afford to be late; Heather would kill me.  So I gave a nod.  “Alright.” 

I brushed past him to get my bag from the back seat.  Thankfully my dress and shoes were already at the church where Heather had taken them for the rehearsal yesterday – which I’d missed, since I’d gotten lost… – so I only had my backpack of makeup and toiletries and a change of casual clothes.  I locked the rental, not caring whether it got towed or not.  The company owed me big-time for this little SNAFU.

Following biker-dude to his Harley, I sent up a fervent thank-you to whatever gods were listening that they’d sent him to keep from ruining my best friend’s big day.

“What’s your name?” he asked, opening one of the storage compartments for a second helmet.

“Hayley Cartwright.  And you?”

“Tommy,” he answered, pulling off a glove and offering his large hand.  “Tommy Erikson.”  His hand closed around mine, completely enveloping it with a warm and gentle strength.  Like him, I thought.  We’d spent less than 15 minutes in each other’s company on the side of a hot, rushing highway, but I felt something inside me responding to him as if we’d known each other longer.  As if we were two strings of an instrument plucked and resonating together in a harmony that neither of us had known was possible.

Tommy handed me the helmet, then pulled off his other glove to help fasten the strap under my chin.  His touch wasn’t the condescending action of an arrogant male, which I would have hated.  Rather, it was the gentle assistance of a natural caretaker and champion.

It sent tiny tendrils down to dig shallow roots in the soil of my heart.

He climbed on the bike first, holding it steady until I was settled behind him.   I slipped my arms tentatively around his lean waist, suddenly nervous at the intimate contact.

“It’s okay,” he murmured through the microphone that connected our helmets, one gloved hand coming to press mine where they connected against his stomach.  “Hold on as tight as you want.  I’ve got you.” 

Then we were off.   I’d never ridden a motorcycle before, but I tried hard not to let it show.  The speed, the air whipping my hair, raking heavy claws through my clothes…  I was in a pair of cutoff shorts and a light silk sleeveless shirt, but the air moving around my body made me feel like I was riding naked, pressed hard against his firm, leather-clad back.   I’m not a small woman, but he made me feel delicate, almost dainty perched behind him.

Once, his chest expanded with several hitching inhales, a gloved hand quickly pressing a button on the helmet that muted our microphone connection.  Even so, with my body practically wrapped around him, I felt the full-body shudders as three massive sneezes rocked him. 

It caused him to wobble the bike just slightly, and I reflexively clamped onto him harder.

“You alright?” he asked, turning the mic back on and bringing a hand back to cover mine, his touch firm and reassuring.

“Fine,” I replied, not trusting my voice not to crack if I attempted a longer response. 

He kept his large hand over both of mine, arm tucked to press mine close to his body.  It was as if he knew I was nervous, but rather than rib me or give me a hard time about it he simply offered comfort.  Security.  Reassurance. 

I wasn’t used to that. Most guys I knew liked to lord their superiority at every available turn - but… he didn’t.  I liked it. More than I wanted to admit.

We pulled up to the church, and he made sure the bike was parked and stable before removing his helmet.  When I went to try to peel myself off of him, he put a huge hand on my bare leg.

“Wait.” 

Then he swung to the left, pulling a leg knee-over in front of him, until he was standing next to the bike. Turning, he gently cupped one hand under my elbow closest to him, the other hand extended for me to grasp.  When my shaky fingers closed around his, he smoothly helped me to my feet, keeping a secure hold until he was sure I was steady.  Reaching for my backpack, he swung it onto his opposite shoulder, keeping one hand on the small of my back as we made our way up the church steps.

I felt protected, precious.  It was unlike any way any man had ever treated me before.  

To be honest, I didn’t know what to do with it.

Once inside the vestibule, he handed my bag back to me, removing his sunglasses and knuckling his red nose before tucking them away.

“Thank you,” I said, pouring as much grateful sincerity as I could into my voice.  “For rescuing me.”

“You’re welcome,” he rumbled, low and soft.  Suddenly this large, brawny man seemed vulnerable and embarrassed, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand.  “Well, I uh… I guess I’ll see you later.”

“Yeah,” I smiled, suddenly bold.  I went up on tip-toes, pressing a quick kiss to his stubbled cheek and giving a mischievous wink.  “Take care of that cold.”

He chuckled, once again self-consciously touching his nose.  “Allergies.”

“Those, too.” Then I made my way to the bride. 

I have to admit that I was only half-there during the next 2 hours of primping, fussing, and photos.  Heather and the other bridesmaids didn’t notice, being consumed with making her look stunning on her wedding day.  Not that she needed much help. Heather was one of those girls all the rest of us hated: symmetrical face with large, stunning blue eyes and long, silky blonde hair.  A lean, curvy body that looked like she spent hours at the gym when I knew for a fact she didn’t.  And skin that naturally warmed to a gorgeous caramel tan at the slightest exposure to sun.  In her white form-fitting wedding dress that was beaded from décolletage to floor, she was breathtaking.

On a good day I was maybe a 6 on the 10 Scale, which made me cringe as I remembered Tommy and his smokin’-hot biker bod. 

That didn’t keep me from looking for him as soon as the ceremony started.

Butterflies fluttered around the cage of my heart as I stood at the back of the sanctuary, dressed in a surprisingly flattering sea-green satin dress that accented my hair and eyes, scanning the crowd for the tall, leather-clad, dark-haired man.  The music began, and I started my slow trek down the aisle.  Noticing the profusion of flowers everywhere, my ears began straining to hear any wet sniffling or desperate hitching.  I was sure I’d catch it if he let loose with another window-rattling sneeze.

But I didn’t see him.

Then, I was at the altar, stepping to the side and taking my place. Everyone turned to watch the bride walk down the aisle.

Everyone… except the Best Man.

I glanced at him. Then whipped back around for a double-take.

Tommy stood there, no longer in head-to-toe black leather but instead wrapped in a devastating all-black tuxedo.  His devilishly handsome face split in a breath-taking smile, those bottle-green eyes giving me a conspiratorial wink.  Then, he raised a fist and put a finger to his lips, silently signing “shh,” tilting his head to indicate the aisle where the bride was beaming at her future husband. 

Belatedly, I noticed a white handkerchief tucked discreetly into Tommy’s massive fist.

Then Heather stood beside Mark, and we all turned to face the pastor as he began with the traditional “We are gathered here today…”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Tommy bring the handkerchief up to his nose, pressing hard for a few seconds before lowering it back to the clasped hands resting in front of his hips.

The ceremony was a blur, and before I knew it the organ was playing the exit march and Tommy was at my side, gently taking my hand to tuck around his muscular arm.  “Shall we, my lady?” he murmured, that cool, glass-green gaze warming to a verdant summer meadow.

My mouth went dry, and I couldn’t help but stare at him unblinking as he led us unerringly down the aisle, past all the thick bouquets of lush flowers draped over every third pew.

“How are you not sneezing with all of this?” I blurted out, once again proving that my ‘appropriateness filter’ was nonexistent.

He gave a small shrug, smiling at everyone as we passed.  “Stuffed myself full of drugs just before we went in,” he answered in a low voice, just to me. “They don’t last long, and I’m feeling a little light-headed, but… I didn’t want to ruin Mark’s day.”

Once again, putting someone else’s needs above his own.  Feeling the hard muscles of his arm strong and steady through the silk of his tux, my hand gave him a small squeeze.   “You’re a good friend.”

He glanced at me with a grateful smile, steering us down a hall and around behind the altar where we would go back in for more photos.

Which took for-ever.

Near the end, Tommy’s eyes had taken on a glassy look, mauve lips perpetually parted, his big fist holding the handkerchief hovering near-constantly near his pinkened, swelling nostrils.  

I couldn’t keep my eyes off him.

When the bride’s family was having their picture taken, the groom appeared at my side.

“Hey Hayley,” Mark smiled.  “How’s it goin’?”

“Pretty good,” I replied, trying not to stare as Tommy tried to hide behind a pedestal topped with a massive flower arrangement, stifling two harsh sneezes into near-silent submission and rubbing his itchy nose furiously through the white cloth.

“Don’t fuss over him.”

I slowly swung around, wide eyes settling on Mark’s classic surfer-blonde features, my mouth open in a shocked O.  I didn’t think anyone had noticed.

“He hates it,” Mark continued, casually turning to stare off into space at nothing.  “We were roommates for three years when I was in college, and then we shared an apartment until I moved in with Heather.  So I’ve seen him in pretty much all of the worst possible scenarios.”  Shifting, he leaned against a non-floral pew and crossed his arms.  “We don’t know each other very well, Hayley.  But Heather has told me a lot about you.”  He looked at me askance, brown eyes deep and serious.  “Tommy’s had it rough in the relationship department.  Take it slow, okay?...  But… I think you might be exactly what he needs.”

Part of me wanted to throttle him with my bouquet, my whole body flushed hot with embarrassment.   Another part of me wanted to barrage him with questions, to find out more about this tall, handsome, gentle, helplessly sneezy man who had completely captured my interest.

“Wh—“ I started.

But Mark just grinned, diving in for a sisterly peck on my cheek before striding off for the groom’s pictures with his family. 

Somehow we made it to the reception.

The bride and groom had their own private table, the rest of us in the wedding party at another table to their right.  In traditional fashion, I was seated on Tommy’s left.

He looked terrible.

Those bright, bottle-green eyes were swollen and red-rimmed, watery and itchy-looking.  Thick, black locks of hair had fallen over his forehead, knocked loose from the near-constant sneezing.  And his nose… already a large feature on his handsome face, it was crimson and bloated with congestion, irritated and alive with incessant twitching and sniffling.  The stalwart handkerchief had been demolished, and a well-worn blue bandana had taken its place.

Tommy battled through the reception, stifling and silencing his ferocious sneezes as much as he could, keeping the bandana pinched around his allergic nose.  He repeatedly leaned one elbow against the table and massaged his forehead with one hand, as if he was fighting a sinus headache. 

His Best Man speech was short and congested, but heartfelt.

“Mark ad I have beed best frieds for over ted years,” he rumbled into the mic, clearly unused to being the center of attention.  “By…” he lowered the mic and cleared his throat, sucking in a massive sniffle that only those of us next to him could hear.  It helped clear his nasal passages enough for the next part come out more clearly.  “My brother died when I was fifteen.”  He paused, staring intently at some spot on the back wall.  “So I’ll never get to give this speech for him.”  He paused again, glancing to his left, and I saw tears shining in both men’s eyes.  “Giving it for Mark and Heather… is the greatest honor of my life.”  Another pause as he struggled, and although his voice was low and hoarse it never broke.  “I loved Ben with all my heart.  And I’m grateful to God… every day… that he sent Mark to be my new brother.”

And suddenly there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.  Including mine.

“Heather is God’s gift to you, Mark.   Never take her for granted.”  He paused, dramatically.  “Because believe you me, somebody here will snatch her from you the second you forget how lucky you are.  Probably Uncle Albert.”  And the crowd laughed, all eyes immediately going to the 83 year-old bald man who stood up and waved his skinny arms triumphantly.  After Uncle Albert sat down and he regained our attention, Tommy raised his glass.  “To my best friend… my brother… and the woman who makes him happy.  To the bride and groom!”

“The bride and groom!” we all repeated, gulping the champagne and smiling through our tears.

I don’t even remember what I said in my speech.   Something about Heather finding her soulmate. Or something. I’m sure the several glasses of wine and champagne I’d consumed trying my damndest not to stare at the sniffly, sneezy god on my right had something to do with that.  

Later in the evening, the bride and the groom took the floor for the first dance.  They held each other close, whispering sweet words and having eyes only for each other.

The two sets of parents got up to join them, swaying side to side in that way older people have of pretending to dance. The Maid of Honor and Best Man were supposed to follow… but it was then that I noticed that Tommy had disappeared from his seat.   I had no idea when he’d gotten up: sometime after his speech, after the cake, and before the dancing.

Glancing around, I felt my cheeks grow hot with embarrassment.  Surely a man like Tommy wouldn’t refuse to dance with me, even if I wasn’t slender and gorgeous like Heather…

Clutching my cloth napkin, I stared down into my lap, eyes fixed on my white knuckled grip and struggling not to cry.

Then, I felt huge, gentle hands descend on my shoulders.

“… may I have this dance?”

Moving in a daze, I let him pull my chair back and help me stand, leading me to the dance floor with one hand in my right and the other on the small of my back.  Once there, he skimmed that hand up to curl his fingers around my shoulder blade, pulling me close in the traditional pose for a waltz.

I don’t think the music was a waltz.  Honestly, I don’t know what it was.  I didn’t hear a note of it.

I stared up into his handsome face, my gaze raking over his itchy eyes and swollen nose, down to the soft smile that curved his lips.

He leaned forward, resting his chin against my temple.  “You look beautiful.”

I breathed in the scent of him: clean soap and aftershave, no hint of suffocating cologne that most of the men I had dated thought was vital to wooing the fairer sex.  Maybe he was allergic to that, too…

“You’re the most handsome man I’ve ever met,” I replied.

God, help me.  Alcohol and my runaway mouth.  Not a good combination.

Tommy just chuckled low in his throat, barely inhaling the smallest sniffle.  It occurred to me that he must have gone to take more medicine, since he wasn’t currently sneezing his head off in the pollen-saturated summer night.

The slow dance ended, and a faster one took its place as the dee-jay began going to work in earnest.  Tommy stepped away from me, and for a split-second I felt the keen loss of his long body that had been pressed to mine.  But his hand threaded our fingers together, and he tugged me out of the reception hall and into a back corridor.

Tommy pushed me against a wall, keeping our two locked hands tucked between our chests as he brought his other hand to gently stroke my cheek.

“Hayley?” he asked, soft and uncertain.  “May I… may I kiss you?”

My eyes stared into his, and I felt like I was drinking in small sips of his soul. 

Barely daring to blink, I breathed out a soft, fervent, “Yes.”

His dark head descended to mine, his lips tentatively brushing against my own in one leisurely stroke.  When I responded with a soft moan of encouragement, he cupped my face in both hands and kissed me more urgently, coaxing my mouth to open and share breath with his. 

We only got three kisses in before he broke off, turning his head to one side and jerking one hand behind him to snatch the bandana up from his back pocket.

“ghkk—IISSHHuu!-RR’IISSHHoooo!!... goddammit…” he had tried to muffle the sneezes but they had burst forth anyway, ending with him cursing softly to himself from behind the cloth.

I felt him start to back away, somehow knowing instinctively that he was embarrassed and thought I would be disgusted with him.

“Hey,” I breathed, reaching a hand up to turn his head back to me, hooking one finger on his wrist and tugging to make him lower the bandana, revealing sneeze-damp lips and the glistening rims of his red nostrils.  “I don’t mind.”

I pulled him down and kissed him again, feeling his chafed nares flare against my cheek, leaving behind cool trails of wetness.  He groaned deep in his chest, wrapping his arms around me and plundering my mouth with his. 

And then we made out.  Hot and heavy.  Like I haven’t done in years.

Finally, he pulled back and pressed his forehead against mine, panting through the allergic congestion. 

“So,” he rumbled softly, eyes closed, gently carding long fingers through the strands of my hair that had come undone from my careful up-do.  “Hayley Cartwright.  Do you want to have dinner with me sometime?”

Lifting my arms to wrap around his neck, I nipped his earlobe and felt the hard shiver-shudder that went through his big body at my touch. 

“Yes, Tommy Erikson,” I replied, curling my hands around the back of his head and cradling it against my cheek.  “I do.”

 

 

Edited March 18, 2018 by starpollen

[sneezelove]

omg this is so amazing!!! please continue!!

[Just a Girl]

Very well written!! I enjoyed this one.

[camillapapen]

Oh dear god, that was incredible. Sweet and absorbing and lovely and also HOT. I love these two and I love your writing.

[Coffee Mug]

Oh dear lord I just melted. Now I'm imagining a hot sneezy biker! 

Its so cute how they met each other. And you just clicked my buttons with him sneezing on the motorbike with Hayley on the back, and stifling sneezes at the church was.... aaah. 

I love you Starpollen. Thanks, really. 

[rockbell]

I. Am. Dead.

This is amazing!!!! 

[dragonko]

You've really outdone yourself with this one! So well written, thanks so much for sharing!

[elements]

You're just amazing girl!!! Love your writing!

[Werewolf Sniffles]

This is legitimately one of the best things I've ever read!! These characters are to amazing for you not to let us intrude in their lives some more. Your talent for writing only makes the experience even more WONDMAZING! {wonderful and amazing}

[starpollen]

Thank you guys so much!!   I'm so grateful and humbled to read your comments!  I'm writing the man I wish would come sneezing... er, stumbling into my life right about now!...  

[BurgundyJayne]

Excellent. For real. 

[Reader]

Man this was a cut above. Whew it really got me!!! Too many parts to quote. 

[jezebel215]

this was delicious!

[Always]

I love love LOVED this! So well written, great scenario, and perfect characters. Well done!

[Evian]

HELPPPP HOW IS THIS SO PERFECT

[AntheaHolmes]

What an awesome "meeting" story. Very cute and sexy sneezes. 

[starpollen]

On 11/27/2023 at 10:45 PM, AntheaHolmes said:

What an awesome "meeting" story. Very cute and sexy sneezes. 

There is a whole series with this couple, if you are interested. 😊
 

 

[A57]

Was so excited to see a response from @starpollen!! Any chance we will be getting more of these characters? 👀

[AntheaHolmes]

19 hours ago, starpollen said:

There is a whole series with this couple, if you are interested. 😊
 

 

Thanks. Will have a look into it.