Written from a prompt from u/herculeanwriter over at /r/dirtywritingprompts: **Wedding customs are a little different on the tropical island of Mawla, there is no “smooch” at the altar. You may now fuck the bride.**
This went way longer than intended, so I’m cross-posting over here with the intention to write a part 2 that actually answers the prompt!!
—-
With a loud sigh, Marie sunk into the plush white comforter of their pristine hotel bed and begun removing her strappy sandals. “Next time we travel, please remind me to choose comfort over style.” She and her husband – well, almost-husband – had landed in the tropical nation of Mawla earlier that morning and been forced to make their rounds to visit Taito’s extended family before finally being able to check in to their suite. Her feet ached, her legs were swollen from the 8 hour flight, and she was dying for a shower.