Ok so we're not the most normal looking couple you see walk down the street. I'll be the first to admit it and Marcus would be the second. I'm five foot nine and my husband is five foot seven. I'm as white as they come, but he is one of the blackest black men I have ever seen. I am pretty small, despite my height and what he lacks in height he makes up in girth. He works out a lot. I mean every day. He does it religiously. There isn't a day, since I have known Marcus, which he had not woken up at some ungodly hour to head to the gym for his workout. I don't know how he does it. I certainly couldn't.
So he's a big guy and looks very intimidating, but to me: he's my boo. He is my teddy bear. He isn't muscular to be able to take on anyone any given night for fun. He does it because he loves to be fit and take on anyone that might infringe on our relationship.
I remember one night, we were at a bar. It was really dark and smoky and not the best of places to go, but we were on our honeymoon and weren't from that town, so we found out the hard way. We had been driving all over to find a place that wasn't totally crowed and stuffed full of rich arrogant assholes that think they own the place because they have money. So when I saw the half empty parking lot for this bar, I told Marcus to stop. Anyway we were sitting on cow skin covered bar stools at the bar. Marcus had to relieve himself and had only been gone for a moment. In that small moment some local hillbilly decided he would try his luck with me. He had absolutely no tact, no style, no manners and not to mention he stank enough to give a skunk a run for its money.
He made a few lewd comments and I tried to ignore him. I would have been able to if it weren't for the hoots and hollers he was getting from his buddies and his hands starting to grope at me. Marcus was at my side in a flash as soon as he heard me yell at the guy to leave me alone. Hehe: all Marcus had to do was a bit of big talk and puff out his chest as he moved the guy's hand from my lower back. He proceeded to educate the man on how to treat women and managed to lose the guy completely with his big words. Chivalry was the first one: after that the guy just stared at him blankly.
Marcus paid our tab and whisked me out of the place. Once in the car he started apologizing all over himself about how he should have known better than to stop at a place like that, on and on blaming himself. When I finally got a word in, I pointed out to him that it was my idea. We both laughed and dropped it. No one was hurt. I could tell that it bothered him though.
We made it back to our hotel and up to our room. I told him I wanted to take a shower. I felt slimy almost from that guy touching me the way he did. I didn't tell Marcus just exactly what happened, the guy would have been missing a hell of a lot more teeth!
Marcus told me to sit on the bed and wait for him. He was up to something, I knew it. He called down to the front desk and in hushed tones ordered something. I couldn't make out what it was that he was saying. As soon as he was off the phone he scooped me up and took me out to our balcony. We looked out at the night, the city lit up, the hustle and bustle beneath us. It was so peaceful up there. Absolutely breath taking, but then again it is Las Vegas. I was so wrapped up in the view I hadn't noticed that Marcus had left my side, slid the glass door closed and locked it!
I peered into the room, but couldn't see much. I saw him answer the door, but couldn't see from that angle who or what was at the door. He closed and headed for the bathroom, which of course was out of my view. I elected not to get upset with him, sat down and took in the view. About ten minutes later I heard him fumble with the lock and open the door. The smile on his face was a tell tale sign he had been up to something big. Not to mention the fact that he'd changed and was now only wearing a robe.
He reached for my hand.
"Mrs. Williams, would you care to join me in the bathroom?"
I giggled and nodded. He had called me Mrs. Williams as many times as he could possibly manage that day. We'd only been married for a few hours. I followed him into the bathroom and right before we entered he made me close my eyes. When I opened them I almost cried.
He had called the front desk about flowers and candles, which now adorned the huge bathroom. There were red and pink rose petals all over the place including floating in the bathwater. White, vanilla scented candles were the only light source in the room.
He helped me out of my clothes and into the warm water. Once I was safely in the garden tub he removed his robe and joined me. He sat behind me with his legs touching my outer thighs. He wrapped his strong protective arms around me and leaned back against the tub. We spent a long time in that tub. He gave me a sponge bath, massaged my back, neck and shoulders. Once the bath water started to cool off he stood up, picked me up and carried me off into the master bedroom for a night of lovemaking.