This is the thirty-ninth episode of my unreliable memoirs recounting sexual encounters in the nineteen eighties. Each episode is self-contained, so you can read them without having read the previous ones.
It's a bit of a one off episode, recounting the story of a wedding which Lesley and Steven went to that summer. There's a bit of sex, not a huge amount though.
I hope you enjoy the tale.
M4bloke
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A Wedding
In late May, Lesley and I fulfilled a promise we'd made the previous year to some swinging friends of ours, Mark and Sally. Lesley was to be a bridesmaid at their wedding and I was to be Mark's best man.
We didn't really know Mark and Sally that well. They lived not too far from us, in Dartford, Kent and we'd become friends after meeting them at the swingers' week-end in Germany eighteen months before.
Sally was an attractive girl, average height, with brown shoulder length hair, a nice smile and most importantly, fantastic breasts. She did a bit of glamour modelling and worked as a promotions girl at various events and trade shows. Back in the eighties some of the tabloid newspapers ran a topless model on their 'Page 3' and Sally had appeared a couple of times. She'd even had a photo shoot in Penthouse gentleman's magazine. Sally wasn't the brightest spark by any means but her heart was in the right place and I liked her. She was also one of the few people I knew who was the same age as me.
Mark was blonde and a good looking guy. He was early thirties and worked as a computer programmer, a job that paid pretty well back in the eighties. When Mark had asked me to be his best man I'd been a bit taken aback, as I hardly knew him really. But Mark had grown up an orphan and I knew he'd had a tough start to his life. As he'd joked, most of his childhood friends were either dead or in prison.
Back then, Stag and Hen nights weren't as lavish as they are today. In the eighties, a pub crawl followed by a curry was the usual choice for blokes, and this is what I arranged for Mark, complete with the obligatory stripper. Keeping with the social norms for the time, Sally had her hen night in a club where an exotic male dance troupe were performing.
Sally's dad, Barry and her older brother, Grant came with us on the stag night, while Sally's mum, Pearl went on the hen night with her daughter. Both Barry and Grant were as working class as they came and proud of it. I felt at ease in their company and it reminded me of my own upbringing. Barry worked as a printer on the newspapers in London and Grant, who was a couple of years older than his sister, had followed in his father's steps. The whole newspaper industry was a closed shop back then and the only way you got a job in 'the print' was by being related to someone who already worked in it.
While many parents might have been embarrassed by their daughter showing off her body for a living, Barry couldn't have been more proud.
"She's a fine looking girl," he'd confided to me on the stag night.
"She is," I'd agreed, although I thought it best to leave out that she was a great fuck too.
Barry and Pearl were determined to give their only daughter the wedding she deserved. It was going to be a church service followed by a reception at a local golf and country club. On the day of the wedding, Lesley and I got up early and made the journey to Dartford from Wimbledon in the Porsche. I dropped Lesley off at Sally's parents' house, stopping briefly to say hello to Sally, then drove on to Mark's.
Mark was up and drinking coffee when I arrived. I could see he was a bit nervous.
"Everything ok?" I asked.
"Fine," he replied. "I just want fast forward to this afternoon so that I can say I'm married to her."
"Sally told me to tell you she loves you by the way and that she can't wait to be married."
"Were you like this on your wedding day?" he asked.
"We didn't really have the build-up to the big day like you. Ours was more of a whirlwind affair. And it was in a registry office not a church," I admitted. "We didn't know we were getting married until five days before."
"Is that legal?"
"It is, if the man giving the bride away is a high court judge, apparently."
"Do you two do anything like normal people?" Mark laughed.
"Actually we'd planned to get married the following year, after I'd finished university," I explained. "But so much happened after we got engaged. I got stabbed, Lesley nursed me back to health and then we went on the bike to Europe. By the end of the summer it was like we'd known each other all our lives."
"So, what happened?"
"We were at a wedding in France and Lesley's adopted father..."
"The high court judge?"
"Yes, although strictly speaking he wasn't her adopted father then I guess. Anyway, he could see how much Lesley wanted to be married, so he asked me how I felt. I confessed that I wanted to be married just as much as she did. But we'd only been engaged a few months and in any case I was going back to university the following weekend. To cut a long story short, he pulled a few strings and we got married on the Thursday."
Mark laughed.
"Thank you for being my best man, Steven. And I know it means a lot to Sally that Lesley's going to be a bridesmaid too."
"We're both very honoured," I told him.
The wedding wasn't until three in the afternoon, so I took Mark for some lunch at a local pub. Afterwards, we got dressed up in our morning suits and I drove us to the church. I could see that Mark was getting more nervous as the time approached and it made me think about what he'd asked earlier. I hadn't been nervous at all on my wedding day. I'd been totally certain that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Lesley and I hadn't doubted for a moment that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.
When we arrived we met Grant who was acting as an usher and the three of us had a chat as the church filled up with guests. Then Mark and I took our places in the front row and the final wait began.
"It'll soon be over," I said trying to calm Mark's nerves but realising that I sounded more like a dentist about to extract a troublesome tooth.
Fortunately Sally didn't keep Mark waiting. At three o'clock on the dot there were voices and activity at the back of the church.
"We're on," I told Mark and the two of us stood up.
When the vicar had taken his place in front of the alter, the organist began to play the wedding march. We both looked round and there was Barry, walking his daughter down the aisle. Sally looked a picture in her white dress and as they got closer I could see Lesley walking behind her. She was trying to look professional but when she saw me looking at her she gave me a cheeky smile.
Having delivered his daughter, Barry shook Mark's hand then took his place next to Pearl who was trying to hold back her tears. I caught Sally's glance and she smiled at me.
"Thank you for getting him here on time," she said.
"I couldn't have stopped him if I'd wanted to," I replied.
When everyone was seated, the vicar began. He was getting on a bit but was a seasoned professional when it came to weddings. He put the bride and groom at ease and in no time at all they were saying their vows to each other. The bit about forsaking all others and being faithful made me chuckle, but in their own way I felt sure that Mark and Sally would be.
After being pronounced man and wife, the happy couple made it out of the church and posed for photos before getting into the bridal car and being driven to the reception. When they'd gone, everyone followed in their own cars. Lesley and I were needed at the reception for the photos, so we hot-footed it over in the Porsche.
You don't realise how many different permutations of family and friends there are at a wedding until it's time for the photos, although in this case, the split between the bride's family and the groom's was a bit one sided. Sally, it seemed, had aunties and uncles by the bucket load whereas Mark had no family at all. It must have caused the photographer a few problems.
It was just gone five by the time the photos were finished. The reception meal wasn't until six, so Lesley and I got our luggage out of the car and checked into our room. We'd hardly had a moment to ourselves all day and when we were alone we both had the same idea.
"Do you want to fuck the bridesmaid?" Lesley asked teasing me.
"Ever since I first saw her," I replied.
"Just don't get cum on my dress," she giggled.
Lesley leaned back against the bedroom wall and let me lift up her dress.
"No panties, just how you like me," she said as I felt her pussy.
I undid my trousers and let them fall to the floor then lifted Lesley up. She reached down and guided my cock into her then put both hands around my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist.
"I love you," I told her.
