Husband Turns Gay: Chapter 15

Abstract: The 15th of 16 chapters.
Bradley and Amy vacation in Saint-Tropez. A marriage proposal.
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The last evening in Saint-Tropez hung heavy with the kind of warmth that clings to your skin like a second layer, the sun dipping low over the horizon and turning the sea into a sheet of molten glass. Bradley and Amy had just finished dinner at a cliffside spot called Le Sporting, the conversation drifting from lazy nothings to whispers about what came next—her packing up the last of her things from the old house, him clearing space in his schedule for more than just layovers. The air buzzed with that easy contentment, the kind built from days of sun and sex, but tonight felt charged, like the finale to their private escape.

They left the restaurant hand in hand, shoes dangling from their fingers as they kicked through the sand along the beach. The waves rolling in with a rhythmic hush that matched their steps. Amy pressed against his side, her sundress—a light cotton thing that skimmed her thighs—flapping in the breeze, and Bradley wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close enough to feel the heat radiating off her body. They stopped every few yards to hug, her head tucking under his chin, his lips brushing her temple. Kisses came easy, starting soft and turning deeper, tongues sliding together with the salt of the sea still on them. One particularly long one left her breathless, her hands fisting the front of his shirt as she backed him against a weathered palm trunk, grinding just enough to feel him harden against her hip.

"Can't keep my hands off you," he murmured, nipping at her earlobe, his fingers tracing the curve of her ass through the thin fabric. She laughed, low and throaty, and tugged him onward, the promise of the hotel pulling them like a magnet. The walk back felt shorter than it should have, their bodies buzzing with that pre-sex hum, the kind where every touch sparks a little fire.

The suite door clicked shut behind them, the room still carrying the faint scent of jasmine from the balcony and the tang of their earlier sunscreen. Amy kicked off her sandals, but before she could turn, Bradley guided her to the edge of the king-sized bed, the mattress dipping under her weight as she sat. He dropped to one knee in front of her, the movement so deliberate it made her heart stutter. His eyes locked on hers, steady and intense, the lines around them crinkling just a bit from the sun they'd soaked up all week.

"Amy," he started, voice rough around the edges, like he'd been rehearsing this in his head for days. "I can't fully express how much joy you have brought to my life. We both came together at a time when there were great challenges, pain, despair, and sorrow in our lives. You have renewed my spirit, made my life so exciting and fulfilling. I hope I’ve done the same for you. I love you and want to continue loving you, with me, for the rest of my life." He paused, fishing a small velvet box from his pocket, flipping it open to reveal a 1.25-carat diamond engagement ring from Harry Winston, the stone catching the lamplight and throwing sparks across the walls. "Amy, please say you’ll marry me."

Her eyes went wide, a gasp catching in her throat as tears welled up fast, blurring the edges of him. For a split second, the world narrowed to just that ring, that face, the man who'd pulled her out of the wreckage of her old life. Then she lunged forward, throwing her arms around his shoulders, burying her face in his neck. "Yes, Bradley! I will marry you." The words tumbled out in a sob, tears streaming hot down her cheeks, and she felt him pull her tighter, his own eyes misting over as he slid the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly, cool metal against her skin, and they stayed like that, rocking together on the floor, laughter mixing with the sniffles until the raw emotion settled into something warmer, deeper.

He kissed her then, slow and thorough, tasting the salt of her tears as his hands roamed up her back, unzipping the sundress with a practiced flick. It slid off her shoulders, pooling around her waist, leaving her breasts bare to the room's soft air. Amy's nipples tightened instantly, and she arched into him, her fingers working at his shirt buttons while he stood, helping her shrug out of the dress completely. No underwear tonight—just her, naked and flushed, the ring glinting on her hand as she reached for his belt. "Bradley," she whispered, voice thick, "I'm going to marry you. I'm going to be your wife and you-my husband."

He stripped fast, pants hitting the floor, his cock already half-hard and thickening as she wrapped her hand around it, stroking from base to tip with a firm grip. They tumbled onto the bed together, her on her back, him hovering over her, kissing down her neck to her collarbone, then lower, sucking one nipple into his mouth while his thumb circled the other. Amy moaned, legs parting instinctively, her pussy already slick from the beach makeout and the adrenaline of the proposal. He spent time there, teeth grazing the sensitive peaks, tongue lapping until she was squirming, one hand tangled in his hair, the other tracing the new ring like it was a talisman.

"Want to taste you," he said, shifting down her body, kissing a trail over her stomach, the faint tan lines from their nude beach days making her skin a patchwork of gold and pale. She spread her thighs wider, knees bending, and he settled between them, breath hot against her folds. No teasing—he parted her with his thumbs, exposing her clit, smooth, swollen and pink, and licked her, gathering the wetness that had already started to leak. Amy's hips jerked, a sharp "Oh, Bradley" escaping her lips as his tongue pressed flat against her, rubbing in slow circles that built pressure without mercy.

She came with a cry, a rush of wetness flooding his mouth as she shuddered through it, back bowing off the mattress. He lapped her clean, softer now, drawing out the aftershocks until she tugged at his shoulders, pulling him up. "Inside me Bradley, please darling," she said, voice wrecked, and he obliged, kneeling between her legs, cock in hand. He rubbed the head through her slickness, coating himself before pushing in slow, inch by inch, her walls gripping him tight like they were made for this.

They moved together at first, deliberate thrusts that let her feel every ridge, every vein, his hips rolling to grind against her clit. Amy wrapped her legs around him, heels digging into his ass, urging him deeper. The ring caught the light again as she clutched his back, nails leaving red trails. He picked up speed, the bed creaking under them, skin slapping skin as he entered her harder, one hand braced by her head, the other sliding down to rub her clit in tight circles. "You feel so good," he groaned, burying his face in her neck, teeth scraping her skin.

She felt another orgasm building, coiling tight, and when it hit, it was overwhelming—pussy spasming, squirting a hot gush that soaked his thighs and the sheets. Bradley didn't stop, chasing his own release with erratic thrusts, his dick swelling inside her. He came with a guttural groan, hips slamming deep as he unloaded, thick spurts of cum filling her up, some leaking out around him when he finally slowed, grinding through the last pulses.

As they drifted toward sleep, Amy propped her head on his chest, tracing the ring with her thumb. "Bradley, I'm going to be your wife. Your going to be my husband. I'm so excited to be spending the rest of our lives together." "I love you Amy," Brad replied, "I'm so blessed we ended up together."