[This is a spin-off of "Dawn and Ken and Maria and David." It begins at the reception after the marriage of Maria and Dawn to Ken and David. Reading the other story is encouraged, but not necessary.]
*
Dr. Robert Van Clef felt out of place here. The crowd was mainly twenty and thirty-something's and the music was not that of his generation. He might have left right after the ceremony, but he had invested almost an hour driving out to this country mansion. Of course he was happy for Dawn, a younger colleague from the hospital, but there were many things about the wedding besides the location of the reception that puzzled him. First was the man Dawn had chosen to marry, and so suddenly. Until maybe a year ago the young doctor had been dating several of his (and her) colleagues from the hospital, men several years older than she. David was quite good looking and a manager in some kind of Internet company, but quite young. Dawn was an attractive woman, but Robert was also uncomfortable with David's almost puppy-dog attachment to his new wife, a devotion Dawn seemed to accept as her due. Then too, if he was not mistaken – and as a gynecologist it was Robert's job NOT to be mistaken about these things – Dawn was pregnant, about three months, he guessed. How long had she know this boy, er young man?
Equally odd, if not more so, was the other pair in the double wedding. The other bride, a pretty young Latina, apparently had – until when? -- been David's housekeeper. And odder still, the other groom, Ken, had been, for a short time, Dawn's live-in boyfriend. Ken, some kind of construction worker, Robert understood, towered over the petite brown woman, but he displayed, if that was possible, an even more subservient infatuation with his new bride who, like Dawn, was several months along with making a baby. Neither bride seemed in the least embarrassed about her state. They had both chosen very short gowns with an Empire tie that drew every man's attention to their swelling breasts and unmistakable bulges.
Finally, the guest list struck Robert as odd, drawn up, so it appeared, to bring together the greatest number of Dawn's, David's, and Ken's male friends with a few of Dawn's girlfriends and an uncounted number of Maria's sisters, aunts, and girl cousins flown in from Central America. It was cliché that people hook up at wedding receptions, but this function seemed to be designed with that in mind. And the women definitely seemed to be dressed for the prowl. The décolletage was astounding, hemlines must average six inches above the knee, approximately the height of the strap stilettos, putting acres of eye-popping breast and inner thigh on display.
That thought brought Robert to the final element of his discomfort. He suspected he, too, was one of the men being pursued. That in itself might not be so bad. He could relish an affair with one of Dawn's svelte hottie friends. It would show Janet that two could play her game. It was wounded pride, he realized, rather than grief he felt over the loss of his ex trophy wife. When they met, Robert thought Janet was perfect. After several years of dating younger women who were skittish about sex, it was a relief to find a woman who really liked to fuck.
That in the end had proven her downfall. Janet had probably seen his wealth and prestige and assumed Robert would be the Alpha Male in bed that he was in the emergency room or at the hospital Board. Janet was at that stage in her life when she needed to be fucked hard, deep, and often. And she had counted on Robert to keep her screwed silly. And, having played around long enough, she was ready for a man to get her pregnant and see she stayed that way until she had a houseful of kids. Six months into the marriage with Robert fucking her less than once a day and still no bun in the oven, she became restless. After a year with Robert still resisting on the baby and sex down to a normal couple of times per week, she was desperate. Even tried to get him to go down on her! What did she think he was, some kind of pussy-whipped pervert!
The desperation, in fact, spoiled her shot at a healthy alimony settlement. Janet's mistake had been choosing the wrong man to administer the daily doses of hard, nasty sex she craved. She found a man with a horse cock alright -- her personal trainer – but after a few afternoons of mind-blowing, non-stop, multi-orgasmic sex, she was lost. When Tyrone saw the horny white wife would do anything for his cock, he refused to use a condom any longer. Janet had begged and pleaded, but Tyrone was adamant.
Unable to pass up having that long fat cock in her, Janet finally let him fill her again and again with his thick hot seed. Within weeks Janet had his black baby growing in her belly. Robert's detectives had documented everything and she got only child support from the divorce. The last he heard she was living with one of Tyrone's friends and pregnant again.
Thus, Robert was single again and looking. But the women Robert had his eye on, thin cool blondes for the most part, had David's young friends in their sights. Instead, Robert kept being thrown into the company of Marta, Maria's mother. Dawn had told him about Marta, suggesting she's be eager for a tumble, but Robert ignored her silly attempts at matchmaking. Marta was not the kind of woman Robert was hoping to meet. Marta was dark, loud, unsophisticated, and rather too – large. Not that she wasn't sexy in a crude way: large breasts that had nursed a brood of children, wide hips that had made the nights of two deceased husbands and (Dawn had hinted) many other men, quite happy, and a waist that was surprisingly small for a woman who had been making babies since she was thirteen.
Nevertheless, Robert had no intention of spending time with Marta that afternoon. Marta, on the other hand, had other ideas and she was remarkably effective in getting her way. Every time Robert turned around Marta was there with a fresh drink and another button of her blouse, drawn too tight across her enormous jugs, unfastened. As the afternoon wore on, most of the women were successfully paired up, some a bit disheveled accompanied by with happy but dazed-looking men.
This left Robert to Marta who was starting to look better as Robert consumed more of the spicy punch. Women her age and size didn't usually wear skirts that short or heels that high, but on her they showed those extra pounds were packed into the right places. He found himself wondering if she was wearing panties. Somehow they were holding hands and she was gigging and telling him stories that Robert had trouble following as his eyes were drawn again and again to his companion's luscious brown breasts.
"Time for the movie," Maria called out. The what? Robert had never heard of showing a movie at a wedding reception. They hadn't even cut the cake had they? Was there a cake? Robert dimly realized Marta was leading him into a different wing of the mansion. The other men looked as confused as he, but they likewise allowed the giggling women to herd them gently to sofas and loveseats pointed at a large screen.
"Comfy Bobby?" Marta asked. No one had called him anything but "Robert" or "Dr. Van Clef" in years. "Bobby" made him feel like a boy, a little boy very comfortably snuggled against Marta's soft warm woman flesh, her perfume around him like a cloud. He tried to pay attention to the film, but her hand between his legs made concentration difficult. At first it looked like a historical documentary' then it turned into an R or maybe X-rated tale of soldiers and dark women and orgies. Something about the flickering projection made it impossible either to look away or to think critically about the plot.
"Pretty sexy, eh?" Marta whispered.
"Huh?" Robert felt sluggish, not thinking too clearly.
