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The Farmer's DaughterChapter 9 free porn video
Reception
Berks County, Pennsylvania, Schmidt Farm
Kevin Butcher:
I leaned close and whispered, “I don’t want to wait until tonight. But I will because you’re worth it.”
With my words, my wife’s eyes softened. She threw her arms around my neck and pulled my lips to hers. If the Mennonites had an official list of unapproved public displays of affection, this kiss would be number one. My father-in-law gave us about thirty seconds before he coughed.
Rachel said, “Rebecca and Kevin, you have guests.”
I turned to my wife. “In that case, Mrs. Butcher, we should join the party.” She nodded, took my arm, and the four of us formed an abbreviated receiving line. As the hosts, Jonathan and Rachel headed the line. Rebecca and I were second. My parents, had they been alive, would have been there with us. Everyone took the time to greet the Schmidts and the newly formed Butchers.
One elderly couple, the Hanevys, stood out from the rest of the guests. Mrs. Hanevy, a gray-haired matron, eyed me before focusing her attention on Rebecca. She said, “I have watched you from when you were a tiny little girl. You and your mother used to pick wildflowers along our shared fence line, and you were always so polite. Now you’re all grown up and married.” She gave me another searching glance. “Well, your husband looks eager enough to get on with making a family. Now, if you want boys, you’ll want to make sure he gets it tucked in good and deep.”
The longer the woman spoke, the tighter Rebecca gripped my hand. My wife’s cheeks were now crimson. Rebecca said, “Thank you, Mrs. Hanevy. Kevin and I appreciate your advice.”
“I certainly do,” I added, and Rebecca’s elbow thumped me. Mr. Hanevy shook my hand and escorted his wife on to the dining room and the buffet. Before the next well-wishers could step in front of us, I leaned over and whispered, “I like your neighbors.”
Rebecca whispered, “Momma warned me we may get some advice like that.”
The February sun shone bright and kept the air temperature in the upper sixties. After we greeted everyone, we slipped out to the front porch to get some fresh air. Rebecca said, “You and Tommy look so handsome in your tuxedos.”
“Me handsome? Thank you, but no one looks at me when you’re in the room.” Rebecca’s cheeks flushed from my compliment.
The posse soon surrounded us. In their colorful dresses, they resembled a cluster of flowers. Susan and Brenda chattered about their latest conquests. The new girl, Colleen, looked especially lovely, and dangerous. Something about weddings brought out certain interests in the single ladies. For the same reason, weddings made most single men nervous. Mary hung back and smiled knowingly, as if her friends’ antics provided amusement, just for her.
Eyes bright, Susan asked, “Kevin, do you have anything special planned for tonight?”
Five sets of bright and eager eyes fixed on me.
“Um, one of Rebecca’s neighbors gave us some excellent advice. Tonight, I’ll get it tucked in go—” That’s all I could say before Rebecca covered my mouth with her hand.
When Grainger showed up, he looked flushed and tired. Rachel noticed this and put her hand on his forehead to check his temperature. “You’re not feverish, but you don’t look well.”
“I’m fine, Mrs. Schmidt,” Grainger said.
“Well, take yourself upstairs and get cleaned up. I’ve laid out a change of clothes for you.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“And don’t call me ma’am. It makes me feel old. Hurry up now.” With a grin, Grainger turned and hurried up the stairs.
“That boy needs a full-time keeper,” Rachel said.
“That boy,” Jonathan said, “is almost the same age as Rebecca. He’s a good worker, and I never have to tell him the same thing twice. I found him behind the barn cleaning the front-end loader. He told me he didn’t want to get behind on the chores.”
Sometime later, Grainger walked out onto the porch wearing a suit. In his hand, he carried a necktie. Before I could offer to assist him with it, Rebecca’s friend Colleen stepped up. She asked if he needed help. With quick, precise motions, Colleen tied a double Windsor knot. She stepped back and conferred with her friends. They all shook their heads. Colleen stepped back to Grainger, untied the Windsor, and tied it with a four-in-hand knot. Even I could see the improvement. The posse nodded their collective approval.
Rebecca tugged on my arm. She whispered, “They all think he’s cute.”
I peered at Grainger. The word I’d use would be scruffy. Like a lot of young men, he tried to grow a beard, but all he had achieved was a scraggly goatee. Still, standing here all dressed up, he didn’t look too bad. These months of good food, fresh air, and hard work had changed him. His shoulders had filled out, and he didn’t slouch anymore. I wondered if he understood why the posse fussed over him. Like I said earlier: weddings put ideas into single ladies’ minds.
“If your friends think he’s cute, what do they think of me?”
“Never mind,” Rebecca said tartly. I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t let her see me do it.
The aroma of home cooked food called to me from the dining room. Nearly every family attending the reception brought a covered dish. German potato salad, pot roast, and plum dumplings sang their siren songs. Rebecca ate sparingly, but I had to try a little of each. After my second trip to the buffet, I passed Mrs. Hanevy. She told me I needed to eat because of my upcoming honeymoon exertions. Mrs. Hanevy was OK in my book.
Someone set up a radio on the back porch and a few of the more daring couples danced. Rebecca and I joined in, and we ignored the clucking from the few who disapproved. At some point, Major Pittsenbargar crashed the reception. I thought he might need a nap after eating so much homemade food. Aunt Deborah stayed close to him but never touching.
Soon enough, we made our rounds, thanking our guests, and saying goodbye. Grainger caught up with us and asked, “What should I do if a girl likes me?”
I smiled. “Enjoy yourself, girls are quite nice. Especially with this cold weather.” Rebecca’s elbow thudded into my side. “Ahem, there are rules you need to follow.” He nodded, and I continued. “First, always remember that she is in charge. Second, if you’re unsure about something, ask her or ask her friends. Third, she’ll expect you to push her boundaries, but no always means no.”
After we moved on, Rebecca asked, “I’m in charge?”
“Yep.”
“I don’t feel like I’m in charge.”
“Hmm, that’s because we meshed together so well. Have I ever made you do something you didn’t want to do?”
Her cheeks warmed, and she squeezed my hand. “Noooo ... but sometimes you had me wanting to do a lot more.”
“In that case, I did my job right. I wanted you to want more.”
“Huh, you sound so sure of yourself. Like you had it all planned out.”
“No more than you and your mother did with me.” Rebecca leaned close and kissed me. I kissed her right back.
We happened to be in the kitchen, and no one seemed to be paying close attention to us. I tugged Rebecca into the pantry at the top of their basement stairs. The door clicked closed behind us.
“What are you doing?” she asked, concern for someone finding us clear in her voice. “If we get caught...”
I said, “I don’t know the exact moment when I fell in love with you. It may have happened one of those nights we sat in your kitchen talking. But the night when we first kissed, I knew it for sure.” While I spoke, Rebecca leaned close and hugged me.
She chuckled and said, “After that one little kiss, I went inside and walked right into a kitchen chair. Momma watched me do it. See, you made me crazy even then.”
I bent and kissed her with as much passion and desire as I could muster. At first, concerns about hiding made her tense, but she relaxed, and then, she melted into my arms. The soft fabric of her wedding dress transmitted the warmth of her body, and I felt the rapid beating of her heart. As her excitement grew, that wonderful wildflower fragrance filled my nose. My own need surged, and I crushed her to me.
“You’re going to make me crazy,” she gasped.
“I plan to make you crazy enough to marry me.” My lips found that special spot, just below her ear. Goosebumps rose on her arms, and she shivered.
“It’s too late, I already married you.”
“Oh, then I need to make you crazy enough to sleep with me.”
Panting, “I already am. But not in here, at least not today.”
As much as I wanted to take liberties, someone would discover us soon enough. I eased up my embrace. We shared a few more kisses. Rebecca said, “I love you, but when you make me crazy, I can’t think straight.”
“Good. I have plans for you tonight, and I don’t want you thinking too much about what I’m doing to you.” I stepped back and examined her with care. She looked flushed, but I hadn’t mussed her too much. She reached up and straightened out my hair.
“What,” she asked, “are you planning to do tonight?”
“Shhh, it’s a secret.” I took her hand and opened the pantry door. No one seemed to notice us.
“Kevin...”
Still holding hands, we slipped upstairs to change our clothes. A few of the guests noticed us heading for the stairs. Some few grinned and nodded, others didn’t seem to take any notice. After all, what is unusual about a married couple going upstairs together? We had a change of clothing laid out in Rebecca’s old bedroom.
When I closed the door behind us, the sudden quiet seemed to highlight the change in our reality. Before, someone always nominally supervised us. Now we were alone, unsupervised, married, and free to do anything we wanted. Rebecca turned away from me and asked me to unzip her.
As I lowered the zipper, I kissed each bit of exposed skin. I skipped over Rebecca’s brassiere strap and continued unzipping and kissing. The zipper ended near her waist. Goosebumps rose, and I hooked a finger into the waistband of her panties.
She shuddered. “If you keep that up, we’re not going to make it to Niagara Falls.”
Sighing, I said, “Sorry, sweetheart.”
Rebecca shrugged out of her dress. It collapsed to the floor, and I helped her step out of it. Underneath her dress, she wore a simple bra and panty set in white. We picked up her dress and draped it across the bed. I took off my tux with Rebecca’s help.
With both of us in our underwear, my wife hugged me. She said, “I missed you last night.” One of her hands slipped down and patted my full erection. “I’m used to this thing poking against my bottom.”
“I’ll try to make it up to you.”
“Good!” She stood on her toes and kissed me. Her tongue touched my lips and promised more. “Kevin Butcher, my husband, finally! I love you, and after I finish school, I’ll have your babies.”
We almost didn’t make out of her room.
Honeymoon
Kevin Butcher:
The normal travel time from the Schmidts’ farm to Niagara Falls, New York, is six to seven hours, except in the winter. During the winter, northern Pennsylvania and upstate New York are subject to Lake Effect Snowfall. A storm blowing across Lake Erie or Lake Ontario can pick up enough moisture to cause significant snowfall for hundreds of miles. Concerned that today’s drive might take longer than expected, I called the hotel. The manager had my credit card information and promised she would hold the room for us.
Back when we planned our honeymoon, Rebecca told me to keep it simple. She said, “All I want is a nice room with a normal bed. No indoor swimming pools, saunas or jungle gyms.” Fine, I’d save the decadent resort for another time. My compromise was a nice room with a queen-sized bed, at an upscale hotel. If we chose to actually tour the falls, weather permitting, we could walk there in minutes.
We stopped as needed for snacks and potty calls. Otherwise, we kept going.
Winter weather caught up with us near the Pennsylvania/New York state line. A wintry mix of snow and sleet blew across the road. Traffic slowed in response.
Niagara Falls, New York
After the exit from I-109, we got our first view of Niagara Falls, New York. It resembled the ice-covered surface of Pluto. Peering out the window, Rebecca commented that everything looked like a glazed doughnut.
I dropped Rebecca and our luggage off at the hotel’s front doors and drove off in search of a parking spot. She met me at the door telling me of a problem with the room. They hadn’t held our room for us.
The desk clerk said, “I’m very sorry sir, but there are no rooms available.”
I explained we had a confirmed reservation and the manager herself had promised she’d keep our room for us. They listened politely and apologized. There must have been an error, but they had no rooms available. I enquired about my options. They would be glad to locate another room, and the hotel would pick up the charge. They’d even load our luggage back into our car.
I smiled and prepared a verbal assault. Rebecca felt me tense up, she took my arm and pulled me away from the counter. “Kevin, they’re just doing their jobs. Be nice.”
It took a while, but they found a place with an available room. Actually, it was a motel, and it was on the other side of town, about thirty minutes away. They promised the manager would straighten out the room problem in the morning. They even gave Rebecca a card for us to have a complimentary breakfast in their dining room. How nice.
We drove all the way across town, past the interstate, to the motel. Along the way, we stopped at a Wendy’s drive-through window.
The motel staff, one person, greeted us indifferently and after I signed in, tossed me a key. “Hey,” he called out, “the room comes with two bottles of water and your choice of pretzels or potato chips. Help yourself.” He waved towards an ancient refrigerator and a cardboard box. I grabbed two bottles of water and a bag of pretzels. Things were looking up.
Our room was definitely not the honeymoon suite. The door opened onto the parking lot. At least I wouldn’t have to carry the luggage a long way. I offered to carry Rebecca across the threshold, but she laughed and told me it was too cold. Instead, Rebecca took the key and opened the door while I brought the luggage.
The room held a desk, two chairs, a television, and a double bed. Otherwise, the room smelled clean, and it passed my bed bug inspection. The thermostat wouldn’t go higher than 68 degrees. So, I disassembled it and readjusted the limiter. Being a technician had its perks. Outside, the wind picked up, and sleet began to strike the motel’s exterior.
We ate our dinner while the room warmed. The wind outside continued to howl. Obviously, we made it here just in time.
Eventually, the room warmed enough, and my wife announced it was time for her to get ready for bed. She pointed to a few bags, and I carried them into the bathroom for her.
Nerves. I don’t think I’ve been this nervous since boot camp. I sat on the end of the bed and flipped through the available TV channels.
The bathroom door clicked open, and my bride stepped out. For the first time, I saw her hair completely unbound. Otherwise, she wore my old terry cloth bathrobe and new pink fuzzy slippers. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t her wearing my old robe. When I approached, she gave me a kiss before pushing me towards the bathroom. She said, “Take a shower, brush your teeth and shave. When you come to our bed tonight, I want you to be nice and clean.”
“But...” I glanced at the bed.
Shaking her head, she said, “We’ve waited this long, another few minutes won’t hurt you. When you’re ready, knock on the door, and I’ll tell you if I’m ready.”
Fog from Rebecca’s shower still covered most of the bathroom mirror, except for an area she had wiped clean. The room smelled like my bride. On the counter top, to the left of the sink stood a few feminine toiletries. Next to those, lay a flat, foil-backed package of birth control pills. Tonight, became very real.
The motel did not scrimp on hot water. I shampooed and scrubbed, paying careful attention to my armpits and undercarriage. Then I flossed, brushed my teeth, and shaved. Oops, I forgot to pack my comb, so I borrowed Rebecca’s brush. There were still fresh towels stacked on the counter, and I wrapped one around my waist. At the door, I raised my hand and tapped. I felt nervous. This had to be perfect.
She said, “Just a second.” The bed rustled. Then my wife said, “I’m ready.”
When I opened the door, I found Rebecca facing away from me and leaning on the bed. She held herself still as if my entrance had interrupted her while turning down the bed. Instead of her normal flannel nightgown, she wore a simple white silk chemise. In deference to the cold outside, thick blue socks covered her legs from her feet to her knees. The abbreviated length of the chemise highlighted her long and slender legs. It also revealed the cornflower blue and white lace garter around her left thigh.
After giving me enough time to appreciate the view, she straightened up and turned to face me. It took several moments before my brain got back on track. When I finally made eye contact, she bit her lip and did her best to appear innocent.
My case of nerves vanished, pushed aside by an incredible wave of desire. When I took a step forward, Rebecca grinned and took one back. At least she tried to. She forgot how close she was to the bed. The inside of her knee hit the mattress, and she overbalanced. Arms awhirl, she toppled backward onto the bed.
Laughing would not be smart. I stepped to the bed and asked, “Are you OK?”
She looked embarrassed, but nodded up at me, “I’m fine.”
“I don’t know. You may have sustained dangerous contusions.” I gave her my best leer. “The doctor should give you a close examination.”
Rebecca giggled. “Oh, Doctor Kevin, do you think my condition is serious?” Her knees came up, and her feet slipped under my towel. Fuzzy sock covered toes found me and my attention wavered.
Ignoring her feet was impossible, and from the look in her eyes, she knew exactly what effect she had on me. Still, I needed to get my act together. “Yes, I must perform a close examination, from the top to your bottom.” My eyes dropped from her face to the junction of her thighs. With her knees raised, the chemise had flipped back and revealed her lack of underwear. I gulped, and my penis throbbed. “Oh, sweetheart, I love you so much.” She put her heels on the edge of the mattress and scooted back to give me some room. I followed and crawled on top of her. Our lips touched. Her arms and legs wrapped around me. While our tongues danced, her feet pushed the towel away. She pulled me down; her pelvis lifted and pressed against my penis.
We’d played like this before but always kept things under control. Rebecca would press against me, and I’d provide a rigid counter for her soft warmth. Tonight, with no need for restraint, I ground my erection against her in a tight circle. Rebecca gasped; I had never been this forceful before. Her hands gripped my hips, guiding me to rub just the right spot. She pulled her mouth free. Both of us were panting.
Rebecca asked, “Is ... is this how you want me?”
I wanted to tell her no, and ask her to get on top because of the control it would give her. I wanted to lift her all the way onto the bed and make gentle love to her in that classic old-school position. Instead, with my wife aroused and supine beneath me, I growled, “Yes.”
She reached down, intending to guide me. Instead, I lifted up, took hold of her hips, and pulled her to the edge of the bed. The chemise rode up and fully exposed her bare sex. She took me in both of her hands and rubbed my erect penis up and down her slick warmth. I groaned out my need, and she nudged me into position. For a brief moment we balanced there on edge, she nodded, and I pressed against her. There was a brief resistance, and suddenly, her hot, slippery sheath surrounded and squeezed the head of my penis.
“Wait,” she said, her hands pressing against my abdomen. “You’re big.”
As much as she needed to adjust, I needed to adjust as well. If I didn’t get a grip, this would be over much too soon. Her pelvis tilted up and down while she felt for the best angle. It also had the effect of sliding my glans in and out. The slight friction was exquisite. I couldn’t have been harder. The skin was so taut every motion felt magnified. Her hands reached out and measured my still exposed length, and her eyes widened.
“So much more ... go slow,” she said. Her hands came back to my waist, and she guided me. My inner brute demanded I grab her thighs, fold her legs back, and pound her. She looked at me, her eyes bright and eager. With a huge effort of will, I pushed the brute aside and took my wife with love. Exercising care, I worked in and out, gradually increasing the penetration. When our pelvises touched, I bent down, and we kissed. Her legs settled around my waist.
I asked, “Still good?”
She nodded and said, “I love you.” Then her hands and heels urged me on.
I let her guide me, and we settled into a steady pace with me penetrating about halfway. A red flush built upon her chest then spread to her neck. Our breathing became short. Suddenly, Rebecca’s hands gripped my waist hard, and she cried out. Her legs crushed me against her, and her rapid internal pulses pushed me over the edge. I buried myself to the hilt, thrusting and spurting. I didn’t think it would stop.
When I regained awareness, I found I had fucked us halfway back across the bed. Rebecca’s eyes were open and alert. Her legs were loose around me. “Hey,” she said, “are you back?”
“Mmmm ... yeah. Becks, that was soooo good.” My eyes closed all on their own.
“Hey!” Her hands shook me, and my eyes popped open again. Had I dozed off? Rebecca pointed towards the nightstand. A folded white towel lay on top of the alarm clock. “Can you reach the towel?” she asked. “I feel all squishy down there. You must have filled me up.”
I reached for the towel, sporting the goofiest grin ever. Heh, I filled her up!
Rebecca told me to stay in bed while she went to clean up. I watched her roll out of bed and scamper into the bathroom, one hand holding the towel between her legs. A few minutes later she came out with a washcloth and cleaned me up.
After returning the washcloth to the bathroom, she came back wearing only the garter and the socks. I scooted back to give her the warm spot I had made. We kissed and snuggled. She said, “I love you, Kevin, I couldn’t have a better husband.”
I asked about her cute nightie, and she told me we made a mess of it. Our free hands explored, keeping the interest high. Sooner than I expected, she pulled me on top of her, and we made love. It was better this time. We found a nice rhythm, and I rode high to increase her stimulation. She came twice, and I think the first one surprised her with its intensity. The second seemed to last a long time. I can’t be sure because I came soon after her second climax began. This time I grabbed the towel without needing a prompt.
The late hour and our lovemaking took its toll. We went into the bathroom together to pee and wash up. The unremarked familiarity of this warmed me. I guess we’d have an open-door type of relationship. Rebecca giggled when I kneeled at her feet to remove the garter. It joined the chemise in a dry-clean only laundry bag. The chemise wouldn’t be the last messy nightgown we had to throw into the laundry. It kind of became a thing for me as it often resulted in me sleeping with a nude wife.
Once back in the bedroom, Rebecca slipped on panties, fresh socks, and my red USMC T-shirt. We left a night light on and crawled under the covers. Sometime later, I woke after the fierce winter storm moved on. The only sounds were my wife’s gentle breaths. She felt so warm and alive and all mine. I loved this woman so much, I thought my heart would burst. Sleep found me a short time later.
The next morning, I woke with an erection and no wife. A few seconds later, the toilet flushed, and water ran in the sink. Rebecca slipped back under the covers. She said, “It’s cold in here, warm me up.” Sometime in the night, the heater had shut off, or the thermostat reset.
“How do you feel, is everything OK?”
“I’m a little sore. You’re bigger than you think you are.” I hugged her extra tight, my wife is a treasure. As she warmed up, her pelvis pushed against my penis. She said, “But I’m not too sore, and I washed up really good, can Doctor Kevin kiss it for me and make it all better?”
I sincerely told her, “You are the best wife ever, and I love you so much!”
For the record, screwing underneath blankets isn’t great, but the post-coital snuggling is awesome. This time, we had the foresight to put a folded towel down. After I softened and slipped out, the flood of semen didn’t make us contort to reach a towel.
“You got me all squishy again,” she said. A sock covered foot rubbed against the back of my calf.
“Mmmm...” I said.
“Making love with you makes me feel so alive, and I want to get things done.”
“Mmmm...”
“I liked how we played around before, but actual love making is soooo much better.” Soft fingertips trailed from my shoulders, down to my buttocks. With little playful nips on my neck and ear, she pinched my butt in rhythm with her mouth.
The part of your brain responsible for the most basic of survival functions is the brain stem. It controls things like heart rate and breathing. My brain stem recognized a serious threat to my survival. It sounded the alarm: Danger, Danger! I focused and reviewed my wife’s words, loaded the pillow-talk and bonding protocols. Brain fully functioning, I said, “How much better?”
She didn’t notice my lapse in awareness. “Oh, lots. It makes me feel so much closer to you, and it’s like explosions. Is it like that for you?”
“Oh, definitely, but I just get one big explosion.”
“Just one?” She cocked an eyebrow.
“Yeah, but there is all the stuff I feel before.”
“Like what?”
“Like feeling you move with me, and I love how you squeeze me when I’m inside. Then, this morning, you were so into it, you even lost control and bit me.”
“I bit you, where?” She pushed the covers down, and I nodded to the bite mark on my shoulder. She frowned. “Oh, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know I hurt you.”
“Sweetheart, the only way you could hurt me is if you left me. I love you more than I can explain. Language doesn’t have the words.” Our eyes met, and we kissed. Then we discovered our morning breath and broke the kiss. Even true love has limits.
By the time I went out to start the truck, road crews had already scraped and treated the street. Up here in New York, in freezing conditions, they used a mixture of treated salt and sand. The motel parking lot still looked like an ice skating rink. Another fine Niagara Falls morning. With our truck running and the defroster set to max, I went back inside to fetch the luggage. When I opened the door to our room, a mostly nude Rebecca darted back into the bathroom. What’s the line in that song? Oh yeah, “Victoria’s Secret ain’t a secret no more.”
I tapped on the bathroom door. “Sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
The door opened a few inches, she blushed as my eyes traveled the length of her body. I said, “If you show me what luggage you need, I’ll take the rest out.”
That earned me a wary look. She said, “You want to get me in bed again.”
“Not me.” I gave her the cub scout salute. Oops, Mennonites don’t do scouting, and she missed my joke.
“Go sit in the chair,” she said. “Stay there while I dress. I’m hungry, and we have a coupon for a free breakfast.” The bathroom door opened, and she shooed me away.
“Yes dear.” I shrugged out of my winter gear and sat in the chair. Then I enjoyed watching Rebecca dress. She knew I watched and stuck her tongue out when I caught her smiling.
Rebecca sat on the edge of the bed pulling on what looked like skin-tight pants. I asked, “Are those yoga pants?”
“Pretty much.” She laughed and stood. “Momma calls them leggings. We wear them when it’s cold and windy.”
I watched as she wiggled the leggings over her bottom and up to her waist. They fit every bit as snug as yoga pants. I stretched my arm out and ran my hand over her butt.
She paused when my fingers touched her. “If you keep that up,” she said, “we’ll miss breakfast.”
“I’ll take you to Waffle House. They serve breakfast all day long.”
Before and after checking out from the motel, Rebecca took pictures. We then drove to our original hotel.
The manager, her face set in an apologetic frown, stepped out from her office to greet us. She said, “Mr. and Mrs. Butcher, I am very sorry for the mix-up yesterday. I trust the lodgings we found for you were adequate?”
Before I could retort, Rebecca put her hand on my arm and spoke. “My husband and I are upset. You told us you would hold our room. You let us down.”
The manager blinked. I’m not sure what she expected, but it wasn’t a calm statement of disappointment.
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