It was sitting on the kitchen table when I got home from work. I picked up the ivory coloured card and turned it over.
“Mr. and Mrs. John Tickall cordially invite Susan and Elizabeth to the wedding of their daughter Catherine to Hannah McElvey.”
I stopped reading at that point and looked up as my partner, Beth walked into the room, drying her hair with a towel after her shower.
“You’ve seen it then?”
“Yes, just there now. Do you want to go?”
“Well if we are going to go, we’d drive down on Saturday morning, stay over and back home on Sunday,” Beth announced as she picked up the invite of the table.
“GreenCastle Hotel, County Donegal.” She paused, thinking. “That’s a two-hour drive at least.”
“So, are we going then?” I asked.
That was the million dollar question. I had been going out with Cath when I met Beth. It was only after I broke it off with Cath that I discovered Beth had been with her before I had. The lesbian scene in Belfast was, to quote Stephen Fry, ‘compact and bijou.’ Or, in other words, because it was so small, it was bloody incestuous.
“Why not, I’d like to see what makes this Hannah so special.” Beth giggled, letting the towel drop and taking me in her arms.
My hands dropped to her waist, holding her hips as she pressed her lips to mine. Looking into her eyes as she wrapped her arms around my neck, I could feel her nipples hardening as she pressed them into me. Her brunette hair, still damp from the shower, framed her face. She was so beautiful, and as her hands dropped to slide the zip of my skirt down, I thought about what had made me dump Cath for her in the first place as my skirt crumpled in a heap around my ankles.
“Mmm who’s hot for teacher?” she giggled as she ran her fingers over my knickers.
I knew she could feel the dampness that had already dripped into the purple cotton. She slipped her fingers inside the elastic, her fingers slid over my lips, opening me up as she pushed her tongue into my mouth.
I arched my back, moaning into her mouth as her fingers entered me. She took me, her fingers curled inside me, my velvet walls gripping her fingers as she thrust them deep inside me, a gasp forced from my mouth. As her thumb pressed on my clit, I stared into her eyes, moaning continuously as she took me there in the kitchen. My ass pressed against the sideboard as my girlfriend fingerfucked me hard and fast. She knew which buttons to press, and within minutes I was a sobbing gibbering wreck as my orgasm swept through me, my legs shaking, impaled on her fingers. I felt that she was holding me up as she slowed and stopped.
She pulled her fingers out of my knickers. I could see my juices glistening in them as she held them up for me. I watched, motionless as she slowly wiped them on my lips before sucking her fingers clean.
“Come to bed, darling,” she whispered.
---------------------
In Northern Ireland, the ruling Protestant DUP party, happily supported by the Catholic Sinn Fein were quite happy to preserve the integrity of a God-fearing Ulster by continuing to keep gay marriage, equality, and abortion illegal. Therefore, Cath and Hannah were getting married across the border in the Irish Republic.
As we drove across the border, a stretch of road where the only clues that we had gone from one country to another were the road markings on the side of the road changing from white paint to yellow and a sign indicating the speed limit was 100 km/h. I thought ruefully on the advances enjoyed by citizens of the Irish Republic compared to us, stuck in the backwards North.
I glanced over at Beth, smiling as I watched her drive. She always looked like she was concentrating so hard when she drove. Her eyebrows furrowed and she stuck her head forward as if it helped her scan the road ahead. She always drove so sedately I felt like Miss Daisy.
“Hey up, look,” Beth shouted, pointing at the sign on the side of the road.
“Welcome to Muff.”
Posing in front of it were three of our friends, also on their way to the wedding. Beth slammed her hand down on the horn, and we both waved madly as we drove past, laughing at the girls posing with the legs spread for the obligatory photo.
The wedding venue was stunning. A country house, renovated, extended and turned into a luxury hotel, but still with the same stunning views of Lough Foyle and the Northern Irish coast on the other side that had inspired the English Lord to build his house here over two hundred years earlier.
We quickly dumped our bags in our room and touched up our makeup. As I stood applying another coat of lip gloss, Beth pressed herself behind me, her hands on my hips.
“Red suits you,” she whispered in my ear as she slid her fingers over my form-fitting dress. Her lips brushing my neck.
I watched her in the mirror. Her dark eyes smouldered as she watched me, eyebrows arched, her mouth on my earlobe, I could feel her teeth nibbling my earring. Almost involuntarily, I felt my ass wriggling back into her.
“Later,” she giggled as she slapped my ass and turned, letting me watch her sashay away in her gold dress and matching heels as she headed for the bar.
By the time I had finished my makeup, put on my heels and done a final check, smoothed the dress down and reached the bar, Beth had finished her drink and had ordered her second, sliding my gin and tonic along the bar towards me.
The next hour was a blur of hugs, kisses, drinks, and catch-ups as everyone arrived, waited and finally watched as bride and bride paraded down the aisles.
Cath looked as beautiful as ever, her impish face and short hair styled like Emma Watson, with a stylishly simple dress. But it was Hannah that blew me away. I’d only met Hannah twice, and both times, she’d been in uniform. Now she simply sparkled. Her long blonde hair was styled, curled and shone and her dress emphasised her curves to perfection. I was obviously not being the most subtle as suddenly Beth leant over and whispered,
“Close your mouth; you’re drooling.”
I blushed and turned to smile at her but the look she gave told me she wasn’t being funny. I swallowed, realising that the several gin and tonics she had already drunk had left her in no mood for jokes.
The meal was a shambles. The whole mood of the day had changed as Beth got drunker and surlier. Every question was met with a curt response, and the bar waiter might have well been on a retainer with her as he seemed to spend most of the time delivering gin and tonics to our table.
I watched Cath and Hannah from a distance, silently hoping Beth would hold it together for the rest of the evening. I could feel the tension rising. Even conversation I had with someone was followed by a ‘Who was she?’ as Beth decided I was cheating on her with Cath, Hannah and most of the wedding party.
I was standing chatting to one of Hannah’s bridesmaids. The band had started, and as usual, the volume knob had been left turned up too loud to make conversation easy. She had just put her hand on my arm and leant in to shout in my ear when I heard the smash of breaking glass.
Even before I turned, I knew in my heart that Beth was involved. She stood, swaying from side to side, looking at me like she was going to kill someone. ‘Oh, fuck,’ I thought, as I made my way towards her.
“You cheating, fucking whore!” she screamed at me.
Without even bothering to respond I took her by the arm and lead her out of the ballroom. It was like watching Jekyll and Hyde. As we headed down the deserted corridor towards our room, the tears started. I didn’t speak; I was so angry with her, I couldn’t trust myself to hold back if my mouth opened.
I opened the door and pushed her inside. As it slammed behind us, Beth stood swaying a little before she turned and crawled onto the bed. I went into the bathroom to get her a glass of water but by the time I came back out she was passed out on the bed.
I sat on the chair and looked at her. I watched her for what seemed like ages, trying to decide what I wanted. Finally, I stood up.
“Whatever,” I whispered, half to myself and lifted the key and left her lying there.
Back downstairs, no one seemed to have noticed. The reception was in full swing. I’d missed Cath and Hannah leaving, but just because the Brides had left, that was no reason for the party to finish.