My youngest sister is getting married today. I should say my stepsister, who is all of twenty-one, because my father wanted to marry a younger woman. I am thirty-seven, and with five brothers between her age and mine so we seek each other out at family gatherings. And, now she is getting married and wants me to be a bridesmaid. I get I am not her maid of honor. She has many friends, all of which are just graduating from college, all in her wedding party, and all her age. It was supposed to be an exciting time, a fun time, but several months ago my boyfriend, who I thought was going to propose, got relocated for work and decided to move on his own. Now, I just feel alone, abandoned and questioning if it was me.
We just returned from getting our hair and makeup done and looking at myself in the mirror in only panties, about to get dressed, I decided I must paint a smile on my face. Originally, I was looking forward to my bridesmaid dress that fits tight but accentuated my curves with a low-cut keyhole open front where because of a bra I had to buy for the dress showed off my cleavage, made me look fuller, with my breasts more voluptuous. I felt sexy for one of the few times in my life. Now, I just think of this as a day when this dress will become uncomfortable, this bra will feel uncomfortable, and these heels will feel uncomfortable. And I spent sixty dollars on a bra I will only wear once and, for that matter, two hundred and fifty dollars on a dress I will not wear again.
I met the groomsman who will be accompanying us much of today last night at the rehearsal dinner. Like the many other friends, he is 20 or 21, and just graduated college. We sat next to each other for the evening and I listened to him talk about school graduation, graduate school and how his whole life was going to work out. I enjoyed listening, thinking about how he has his whole life in front of him, never for a moment thinking he was hitting on me, flirting with me while only smiling at the way he complimented me. He just made me feel accepted. I noticed his basketball-playing build, lean and muscular, but he was just my sister’s 21-year-old friend—nothing more.
The wedding planner knocked at the door, waking me up from my feeling sorry for myself asking if I needed help. I said in a moment, and pulled up my pantyhose, hooked my bra and massaged my breasts in place. I stepped into my dress and worked it up until it was over my shoulders then asked the wedding planner to come in and zip me up. I sat on the edge of the bed to buckle the straps of my heels, pondering how she said I looked beautiful and thinking she was only saying that becuase of all the beautiful young girls I will be around today.
I carefully walked downstairs with the tight skirt of my dress into the waiting bridal party, photographer and onto the bus. Gary, my groomsman for the day, walked with me to the bus, helped me up the steps, sat with me on the bus and into the chapel. We walked together down the aisle, discussed our planned entrance into the reception dancing wildly then I thought we would go our separate ways. As it turns out he stayed with me for dinner, drinks, bridal ceremonies, more drinks and for the music and dancing. Again, it never occurred to me he was flirting with me, hitting on me and becuase of that I may have been sending the wrong signals.
I should have realized it was more than coincidence that my ride left earlier in the evening and when I needed a way home, Gary was more than willing to oblige. He was very sweet. I carried my heels out to his car as he raced ahead to open the door for me. I sat and swung my legs around into the car as he closed the door. On the way home, I thanked him many times for the day, for the ride and wished him all the success with his plans.
When we got to my apartment, he jumped out of the car to open my door again, and for the first time I wondered if he was being "overly nice". He reached for my hand to help me out of the car and did not let go of it as we walked to the door - all of which was beginning to feel a bit awkward. When he walked me to the door, I took my keys from my purse and turned to give him a hug and a kiss on the cheek for his kindness. He had not said a word since we left the reception, and when I opened the door, he still did not say a word as he stepped inside with me.
My awkwardness was obvious, and he finally asked if I wanted him to leave. I was blown away at the first hint that he wanted to be with me longer that night. All my actions ran through my mind wondering if I had sent him the wrong signals, if I was too nice that day. I could not open my mouth to say a word; I did not know what to say. I was in shock as he then unbuttoned his shirt. It was the first time I realized he did stir something inside me. He stepped closer, and I put my hands up to stop him, but only settled on his slightly hairy, muscular chest.
He stepped closer still, and the only other words he said, "Tell me to stop if I go too far", and with that he wrapped his arms around me and kissed me lightly on the lips. His strong, muscular, tight body enveloped me. I stepped back, and he stepped forward, taking my hand, leading me down the hallway to my bedroom. I was powerless; I was being seduced. He led me to the corner of my bed and I could only watch as he lowered my blankets and came back to me to hug me again closely, kissed me lightly again but more firmly. His shirt now off, his hands reaching behind me for my zipper, which he lowered as I felt the weight of my body being released.
He began to wiggle my dress down, and as it approached my knees, I stepped out of it.
Could this really be happening to me?
He hooked his fingers and thumb in my waistbands and began to roll my panties and pantyhose down.
Why am I not stopping him?
He sat me on the bed as he knelt down in front of me to remove my underwear. I instinctively sat on the edge of the bed but moved away from him, resting my head on my headboard with my knees together, my arms wrapped around my knees, embarrassed for him to see me. He read my shyness and crawled towards me to rest his head on my knees and smiled.
Do I tell him to stop?
Would he stop?
Do I really want him to stop?
Before I could decide, his hands slipped between my knees and gently but firmly moved them apart. His head began to slowly fill the opening until his lips met my outer lips and his tongue made its first move towards my clit. I moaned loudly, even surprising myself. He settled there, probing me, kissing me, sucking on me until I moved in rhythm with him. I raised my hip to meet him and pressed myself against him. I did not watch him. My head was turned, eyes closed, trying to visualize the shocks he was sending through me. I gasped, I moaned, and I began to feel that feeling that starts in your lower stomach and rises up into your body until all your muscles feel tense. My hands were on his head, running my fingers through his hair until my hands firmly took his head and pressed him against me. I pressed myself harder against him until I exploded in ecstasy and wetness.
He did not stop. He continued as I cried out incessantly from the waves of pleasure running though my body. I finally looked down at him to see him looking up at me. For the first time, I noticed his blue eyes. He was so beautiful. He noticed me looking over his whole body, and it was at that moment he stood up and began to unbuckle his pants. He hooked his thumbs on his waistline and slowly lowered his pants and boxers. I could see his engorged penis being pulled downward inside his boxers until they were low enough for his dick to spring upward pointing at me. He stepped closer again and up onto the bed. My legs still spread.
He kissed my thighs and then my stomach. I watched his dick come closer to me. I wish I had taken my bra off because I would love him to settle on my nipples, but instead he went for a kiss on my lips. I tasted myself on his lips but was immediately distracted when he lowered his hips and found my opening. I thought I would have to reach down and guide him in, but his head found me, it entered me, and he sank deep inside me. I became very excited by the notion that this young man who was excited by me. His dick felt so good as it caressed my opening, my walls. I could feel him inside my belly retreating, then plunging again.
I moved my hips; I tried to squeeze myself as much as I could around him with each of his motions. Now, he was the one moaning in ecstasy. We were fucking each other, moving more and more in rhythm - synchronized. I began to moan in ecstasy too. I could sense he was close; I was close. I told him to stay inside me. And at that moment he erupted. I loved the feeling of his fire being released in me. His arms worked around me and hugged so very tight. I loved him on top of me. He made me feel so secure and safe, he felt so close to me.
We had to end our embrace, though. We lay and looked at each other. I finally sat up and released my breasts from my bra. It felt so good to be free of it, but I was afraid of what Gary might think when he realized my bra held my breasts in a certain way for him, and he would see them differently now. I lay back down on my side with my breasts together in front of him. He traced the lines of the bra's imprint on my skin and fondled my breasts as they were. It was surreal; it was beautiful; the rest of the world did not exist.
All things must come back to reality though. I had to go to the bathroom; he wanted to get cleaned up. He needed to leave. He asked me if he could see me again before he left for graduate school. I thought of it as I put a robe on and walked him to the door. I did not answer him. I wanted to shout "No". I wanted to shout, "Oh yes." Instead, I just guided him out the door, kissed him good night, smiled at him and headed back to the bedroom deciding I would wait until tomorrow to decide. Right now, with the feel of loneliness gone, I was going to take a long, warm bath.
