Best Man Wedding

Feeling The Pressure

July

Words couldn't describe how fast 2 months flew by when planning a wedding. Realizing two months wasn't near enough to stress freely plan a wedding. That's just the planning stress, that didn't even include the everyday life stress. Brielle was near biting peoples heads off. Finding a dress perfect enough for her was a journey. Her dress was one of a kind and the product of a new designer on the team. She was excited to show it off. It was pure art in every way. She was on a diet just to make sure it fit perfectly.

She was on a strick calorie watch. Gym 4 times a week. She was in the midst of one of her Gym days. Anger having her at peak performance. The punching bag taking the brunt of her ire. Quentin could hear the grunting from down the hall. She was going crazy as if it wasn't just 8 in the morning. Popping into his at home Gym he stood in the doorway. Watching her go ham over a simple disagreement with her father. Anything could push her theses days though.

"You know....I could work out this stress I'm seeing holding you down." He pointed, entering the room.

"No. Thank. You." Each word accompanied by a punch.

"Baby, how many much more paddling are you gonna take a week? Save yourself Bri." He tossed, it was extremely difficult to scene and not fuck. She wouldn't even allow an orgasm brought by his hands. This level of control he never thought he'd reach in life.

"As much as it takes! You're my Dom it's your damn job!" She barked, he rose a brow stepping closer to her.

"What was that? Couldn't hear you over that audacity and grunting."

"Nothing, Sir."

"Thats what I thought. Don't get fucked up." He warned, their D S relationship was strictly bedroom but he was not going to ignore that slick comment.

"Now if you're going to continue to deny yourself this stress relief dick I carry around. A damn drink or some weed would help. Fuck that dumb diet. You look great Bri." He tossed, she growled out in frustration.

"No."

"Remember when we were watching Bridezilla? You said that you would never......" He trailed off, as she stopped punching the bag. He ate the rest of his statement right up at her face. He had no desire to be her punching bag today.

"Since my voice of reason is ignored. Please do not blow a fuse while I'm out." He spoke, there was gonna be no interrupting his work for a scene. She couldn't come cry and cuddle up when she wanted.

"Oh you're still going?!"

"Yes? You know it's a thing. Why you acting brand new?" Quentin sighed, she huffed going back to punching her bag.

"Fine! Go! Be a fucking traitor then!" She spat, he groaned throwing his head back.

"You and your father's issues don't have shit to do with me." Quentin voiced.

"Righttttttt....Next time Senior is here remember that. Go away!"

"Babe foreal?"

"Go away Quentin!" She snapped.

"Love your bratty ass. I'll see you later." He sighed, going in for a kiss. She swerved him hitting him with a side eye.

"Move around."

"Cut the bullshit. Give me a kiss girl." Quentin spat, trying to keep from laughing.

She huffed giving him a half ass peck. Giving her ass a heavy slap he slid his shades on exiting the room. Meeting Amos at Lou's before the trio headed out for fishing. Quentin had to admit the more he went on these little trips, the more he enjoyed them. Now more then ever. Brielle wasn't the only one going through it. He lived to fuck and know without fucking he was dying inside. All dramatics included. He never would of thought sitting on a boat, soaking up the sun, and drinking a beer could be the life.