“Mrs. Hunter, I hate to tell you this, but you smell of cum. At your own daughter’s rehearsal dinner. What would Kimmy say?”
“She’d say she wants her turn at some hard cocks. In fact, Wendy, she said that just before we left the church.”
“Well, you might want to dab on some perfume, Eric’s Mom is headed this way.”
“Greta! How nice to see you. We hardly had time to speak at the rehearsal.”
“Hmmm. Yes. Well, if you had been on time. That ex-husband of yours was, at least. No wonder he raised Kimmy. You would never have managed. And Jeff, your second husband. He’s useless.”
“Oh, I bet he’s good for something,” Wendy said, giggling. Ruth also collapsed in a fit of laughter, upset her future son-in-law’s mother further. Ruth didn’t care much. She had a position with stock brokerage; I did accounting work out of our home. Our secret porn web casting operation earned us a fortune banked safely offshore in the Bahamas. This allowed all sorts of perks.
Wendy, the maid of honour, was Kimmy’s lover and, if all went according to plan, our future lover as well. Hearing Wendy’s comment suggested to Ruth that seducing her might be easy, Ruth recalled the next morning, as we snuggled enjoying breakfast in bed . Our open marriage thrived on telling each other the full extent of our extra marital adventures.
‘Now,’ Ruth said she had thought, ‘If we can recruit Hank, we’ll share all the bridesmaids.’
What she said to Wendy was, “Speaking of Kimmy, have you seen her around?”
Not for ten minutes or so. She was talking with that usher from out or town. Eric’s friend Lars. Then she disappeared.”
“Lars? Is he the tall blonde kid?”
“Yes, he was an exchange student from Sweden, here for the swim team. Come to think of it, I don’t see him anywhere around either. Last I saw of either Lars or Kimmy, she was making him say ‘kiss the bride’, and making fun of his accent. Just playfully, of course. She had him doubled over in laughter.”
As Wendy spoke, Ruth was scanning the banquet room, pretending to look for Kimmy or me, but actually looking for Hank, or Henrietta as her parents named her. Watching the athletic young woman galloping towards her across the room brought a gasp from Ruth. ‘No wonder Jeff reacted so strongly to her,’ Ruth told me she realized, ‘that underwire bra really flatters her figure, and she has such energy, she’ll eminently fuckable.’
Like me, Ruth had never noticed Hank’s generous chest before the rehearsal. Unlike most of Kimmy’s pals, Hank tended not to hang around the pool in a bikini, or mall crawl in a halter. She was a serious athlete, partial to sports bras and baggy T-shirts. Also odd for Kimmy’s friends, most of whom were sex crazed like Kimmy, Hank was shy and bookish. In addition to the cleavage displayed by the flashy lacy bra visible through Hank’s sheer blouse, high heels transformed her muscular legs into shapely strong stems.
Ruth felt her nipples harden under her skintight moleskin sheath, thinking about burying her nose between Hank’s powerful thighs. She imagined Hank tasting fresh, befitting a virgin, with perhaps a hint of talc, and dewy saltiness born of excitement and exertion. Standing watching Hank’s enticing mix of tomboy and girlishness, Ruth thought she might start by unwrapping the bridesmaid like a Christmas present, careful not to tear the paper, or damage anything fragile. ‘But there’s really nothing breakable about Hank. That makes her even sexier. I can treat her like a man, but enjoy her curves. I would suckle her nipples – maybe just enjoying her tits could take hours.’
Reverend Peever’s offering began seeping out of Ruth’s cumstuffed cunt as she imagined running her tongue first across Hank’s left tit, then to her right, then back. She pictured her hands reaching down, cupping that taut ass, drawing the buttocks apart, fingers curling to access Hank’s pussy from behind. Her breathing slowed. Ruth realized she was panting in anticipation of seducing this girl. ‘Woman, ’she corrected herself, ‘she’s nineteen.’
Still, there was no escaping the fact that Hank appeared virginal and innocent, even unaware of her own sensual allure. This added to the thrill. Wendy’s conduct with Hank at the church parking lot had hinted at the possibility of Sapphic intimacy there, but this inconsistency served to stir up the pot, not detract from Ruth’s anticipation. ‘What would Hank taste like? Is her navel pierced? Will I be the first older woman to tongue her clit? Wendy might be enthusiastic, but can I make Hank cream, her juices flowing in torrents? I want her screaming that I am the best cuntlapper ever.’
Turning back to Wendy, Ruth started to ask if she had seen me. But Wendy was gone.
Rehearsal dinner etiquette has no defined role for the step father of the bride, so it had been a simple matter for me to duck into the coat room. Wendy, as maid of honour would more likely be missed quickly. Because of that, it shocked me slightly when she grabbed me by the arm and guided me into the closet. My heart raced. Kimmy had begun this new chapter of our lives by entertaining me with stories of Wendy’s lust. But so far, Wendy had only tossed a little teasing banter in my direction.
In the coatroom, she spoke first. “You and Ruth both smell like sex, but not sex with the same person.”
“That’s not surprising. We don’t do everything together.”
“Kimmy says that your cock is named Seymour cause it likes it when you watch her naked.”
“Especially when she touches herself.”
“Will you show me Seymour?”
My cock was already stiffening despite sex at the church during the rehearsal with the other bridesmaid’s Mom, and a blowjob by that bridesmaid, Melody Ann Thomas, afterwards. I wanted Wendy. Perhaps I had secretly longed to fuck her since she blossomed into curvaceous womanhood. In the past week, Kimmy’s stories of girl/girl play and shared adventures created a more believable prospect. Wendy did not wait for me to answer aloud. Her experience likely told her that my quickened breath, bobbing Adam’s apple and eyes locked on her stiff nipples all meant “yes.”
