by Lex Martin
There isn’t a second that she hesitates. She moves the second I give her the command. She turns her lush ass to me, crawling onto the bar top. The lighting is dim in the bar and this far back, no one will be able to see what we’re doing from the front windows.
But I’ll know. I’ll remember how I had her, long after she’s gone.
I’m eager to pull my shirt off and get back to my view of Grace slipping the sleeves of her shirt down her shoulders and stripping out of her clothes as quickly as she can. She’s eager too, maybe more so.
My jeans fall into a puddle on the floor and I push my boxers down and step out of them, standing in front of her naked and hard as a fucking rock.
A shuddering breath leaves her as she pushes her clothes off the bar, sitting on her bare ass with her knees bent and her feet on the bar. Her breathing comes in deep as she finds my eyes and licks her lips.
We’re both bared to each other, in the same spot we first met. I knew then that I wanted her, but I never thought it’d happen.
A grin stretches across my face at the realization that it really is happening after all.
“Lie down, sweetheart.” I climb up on the bar, using the stool as a step and spread her legs. A gentle push on her inner thighs is all I need to get access to her glistening pussy. Fuck. She’s so wet. I can’t help but to pick her ass up with both hands and tilt her hips so I can easily take a languid lick. A sweet merciful sound is uttered from her lips and it fuels me on.
My blunt nails dig into her flesh as she writhes on the bar. I smile into her heat, tasting her sweetness and feeling conflicted on whether I should get her off this way, or just fuck her hard and rough like I want.
I let go of her with my right hand, to push two fingers into her tight pussy and feel how ready she is. I know I’m a little bigger than she’s used to, and I don’t want to hurt her.
But I don’t want to wait either.
Her sweet moan accompanies her back arching as I curve my fingers and stroke her G-spot. My dick twitches, and a strangled groan vibrates up through my chest. It takes every fucking ounce of effort I have to keep my eyes on her and not let my head fall back when I feel how fucking tight she is. Just the thought of her tight pussy wrapped around my dick is nearly enough to set me off.
She’s already close, I know she is. Come on Grace. Give it to me.
“You like that?” I question her in a rough breath, kissing her inner thigh afterwards. I never stop stroking her front wall, pressing a bit harder as she stretches for me. Her pussy clenches tighter and her arousal soaks my hand as I push her higher and higher.
Her head thrashes as she breathes the word out. “Yes,” she moans and it’s barely audible.
I press my thumb to her clit, ruthlessly rubbing circles and her ass jumps in response, her thighs shaking. As she moans my name, I pin her down and I can’t move, my body paralyzed from watching the pleasure overtake her body. She’s gorgeous like this. She struggles to stay still as I pick up the pace of my movements, desperately needing her to get off.
“Yes!” she screams out, gripping the bar with both hands as her body shakes and her legs try to close tight around me. Fuck yes. Her pussy spasms around my fingers and I don’t wait for her orgasm to finish. I need her right fucking now.
Climbing between her legs, I spread the bead of precum over the head of my dick and stroke it. Shit! I forgot the condom.
Her one leg wraps around my waist, the heel of her foot digging into my ass. “Charlie, please,” she begs me.
“Condom,” I barely get the word out, but I don’t try to pull away. “Shit, I need a condom.” I don’t know if I have another.
“No condom,” she shakes her head, her heel pushing harder at my ass and that’s all I need. “You don’t need to if you don’t want to. It’s not like…” Her voice drifts off and she doesn’t have to explain. It’s not like I can forget what she told me weeks ago.
Before the sadness can creep any deeper into her heated gaze, I line my dick up between her hot, slick folds and push in gently at first. Just enough so I can lean forward and brace my arms on either side of her head. Her body’s so small beneath mine.
Easing in gently, I tilt my hips and rock into her, slowly stretching her. I’m mesmerized by her face the entire time. Her lips part, and her forehead pinches. I’m quick to reach down and put gentle pressure on her clit with slow circles. Her eyes roll back in her head, and her soft moans fill the room. It gets her to relax and I slide in deeper and easier although there’s still some resistance.
I can barely breathe with how tight she is. She feels too fucking good.
When her expression turns a little bit more to pain than I want, I wait a minute, kissing her neck and rubbing her throbbing nub before pushing my way back in.
My lips travel up and down her neck, leaving kisses all along the way.
As soon as I’m buried deep inside of her, I pull back to look her in the eyes.
And in that moment, something switches for me. Something changes between us. I don’t know what it is, a spark, a pull. Something raw and pure. Something that’s scary as all hell that I don’t want to face.
I pull back quickly and slam into her, groaning and falling forward as a cold sweat breaks out along every inch of my skin.
I wait, pushing my chest against hers to keep her pinned down as her pussy spasms around my dick. Her body tenses and I give her a moment… and then do it again.
She cries out “yes!” and I don’t wait this time. She’s hot, wet and ready for me to fuck her pretty little pussy the way she deserves to be fucked. I angle my hips so each time I thrust all the way to the hilt, my groin smacking against her clit.
“Charlie,” she mewls, her hands flying to my shoulders and her nails digging into my skin as I piston my hips, taking her rough and hard. And raw.
Fuck, she feels so good. I bury my head in the crook of her neck, feeling my hot breath against her heated skin. I don’t stop, I don’t let up my pace.
I’m so fucking close though. My balls draw up, and my spine tingles. I hold my breath, needing her to come with me. A sweat breaks out along my skin as I pump my hips faster.
I need her to get off with me. And just as I’m about to lose it, she ignites under me. A cry of pleasure leaves her lips and her nails scratch down my back.
I thrust my hips in shallow pumps until I come, still deep inside of her. My release washes through me in waves. And I finally breathe, taking in her sweet scent as my dick pulses and I empty myself inside of her.
I finally lift my head up to look at her. And that spark, that pull is even stronger.
Her head lolls to the side as we both catch our breath.
Swallowing thickly, I gently pull out of her. My heart races, and it won’t quit.
Something happened. Something changed.
But I ignore it as I climb down and reach for the paper towels under the bar. She doesn’t look me in the eyes as I wipe between her legs.
All I want to know is if she felt it, too.
Grace
Everything’s crazy, but in the hushed, well-heeled way that only weddings can be. It’s the day of the wedding, and I’m right in the thick of it.
The suite of rooms reserved for the bride to get ready in are packed with her bridal party and makeup artist and planner. It’s a production to say the least and I’m doing my part sitting in my spot, complete with a name tag and getting my makeup and hair finished by two aestheticians. One lady sweeps a bit of blush on my cheeks. The other lady puts a final pin in my hair, backing away to stare at me as she considers her work.
Given that it’s summer the sun is still up and bright, shining through the large open windows even though it’s nearly 6 p.m. I’m the last one of the girls to be made up and the others are having pictures taken.
“I think you’re finished,” the hairstylist announces behind me.
I squirm in my seat. The two ladies wouldn’t let me look while they were doing my hair and m
akeup. They wanted to surprise me but promised I’d love it. I’m not used to being pampered like this. It’s nice though. Apart from all the nerves and rushed women and men coming in and out to update the bride, it’s been amazing.
“Okay,” the hair stylist says. “I’m done.”
“Me too,” the makeup artist says, setting her brushes to the side and backing away. “You can go look now.”
I’m a bundle of nerves as I walk to the bathroom. When I peer in the mirror; a dewier, much more polished version of myself looks back at me. My hair is braided and pinned up. My makeup is a little more extravagant than I usually go with. My lashes… my goodness! I love them long like this. I wonder what Charlie will think.
I run my fingers down the length of my dress, which is the ocean blue silk with triangular side cutouts I bought before I knew I’d be in the party. I twirl a bit feeling giddy, and smile at the way the floor-length gown moves.
“Grace!” Ellie calls and snaps me out of my little fantasy. Today isn’t my day. It’s Ali’s. “In here!” I call out but she’s already in the doorway.
“You look so pretty,” she comments with a smile that widens. I match it and tell her she looks gorgeous too.
“Love your dress,” I add and with my comment she does a half swirl with her skirt.
“It’s so funny how each of our dresses are different but they go together. These pictures are going to be A-ma-zing.” She emphasizes.
I can only nod, not trusting myself to speak. Sleep evaded me last night, knowing that after today, Charlie and I are probably going to be done with. It’s just for fun. That’s all it ever was. The pictures are just a reminder that I lied to his sister and mother.
I feel like a fraud taking part in this moment. As much as I feel bad for Ali, having some soon-to-be stranger in her photos, I feel more sickly knowing once tonight is done, the charade is over. I think Charlie would let it continue a while. But I can’t keep doing this, pretending like this is okay. It’s not just fun for me. Not anymore. I’m falling for him… hard. And I’m only going to end up hurt.
“The bridesmaids are all meeting downstairs for pre-wedding toasts.”
“Oh! Okay. Let me get my boots, and I’ll be right down. Don’t wait for me. I don’t want to hold anything up.” Where the hell did I leave those boots? The suite is littered with purses and makeup bags and all sorts of wedding paraphernalia.
Elli gives me a quick, “be fast” heading out of the room with the other girls. I make sure to thank the makeup artist and hair stylist, then hunt for my boots which are our wedding gift from Ali.
I check the shoe rack in the closet. They’re the only pair left. I’m careful sitting down on the bed not to mess my dress up so I can pull the boots on. The leather is fresh; the boots still brand new.
Who’d have guessed that the shine on my boots would last longer than my relationship with Charlie? Without sleep and all of these people around me who I’ve lied to, my insecurities are on full blast.
Anyone with eyes could’ve seen that coming, I tell myself. My throat feels tight as I stand up and hightail it downstairs. Exiting the elevator, I pick up my dress to keep it from dragging as I search for the girls, making my way to the hotel lobby. I pass the ballroom, where the reception will take place. It’s gorgeous. Mostly white and cream with pops of blue hydrangeas and blue glassware. Utterly magazine worthy. After checking a couple of empty rooms, I find the girls drinking from a silver flask in what seems to be a coat closet.
“Hey!” Sam says, eyes twinkling. “We were just warming up.”
“I see that,” I say, smiling. “Is it my turn?”
Lindsay hands the flask to me, and I take a swig. I wince; it’s bourbon.
“Wow. Strong,” I wheeze. Oh my goodness I was not prepared for that.
I pass the flask on to Ali. She looks at it, considering, then shakes her head. “No more for me.” She passes the flask and then shakes out her hands. “The adrenaline is in full swing and I can barely feel the last two shots but I know they’ll hit me.”
“You think the guys are drinking?” Ellie asks.
“The groomsmen definitely are. I saw Chris sneaking a whole bottle of whiskey into their suite earlier,” Sam confirms with a nod and then another short swig.
“I swear, Michael had better not be falling down drunk,” Ali frets, smoothing her hands over her dress.
“Charlie won’t let him drink too much,” I console her without thinking. As if I know whether or not Charlie would stop his soon to be brother-in-law from drinking on his wedding. I’ve never even met Michael.
I’m mostly assuaging Ali’s fears; I have no idea what Charlie will or won’t do.
“Ladies?” the wedding planner asks, poking his head in. “The guests are all seated out on the terrace. They’re ready for you all to line up now.”
“Oh God,” Ali says, gripping Lindsay’s hand. “Oh God.”
Lindsay passes the flask to Sam, then gives Ali a mini pep talk, getting down on her knees in front of Ali.
“You are ready,” she says in a hushed voice. “All you have to do is walk down that aisle, and Michael will be there waiting. You love each other and that’s all that matters. That’s it.”
Ali nods at Lindsay, and I can feel the emotion rolling off of her. Her anxiety and nerves are contagious as I look into her eyes. “I’m really getting married,” she whispers and the girls nod. I don’t know why I’m all teary eyed. After a moment she whispers, “All right. Let’s go.”
Charlie
It’s too warm to be wearing this suit. Evening summer weddings are a thing down here. But it’s still too hot for suits. Looking forward to the moment the ceremony is over, I pull at my collar a bit, loosening my tie just enough so I can breathe. This jacket is getting ditched the second I can take it off. Michael’s to my left, and he looks even worse off than I feel. He clenches and unclenches his hands, shaking them out and shifting his feet.
Ma’s in the front row, and she’s already crying. She glances at each of us and then back down the aisle like she’s done the for the last three minutes. It’s a few minutes past six thirty. It’s time for this thing to get started.
Nearly everyone has eyes on the groom or the card in their hand that they’re using to fan themselves. But Michael doesn’t even seem to notice. His eyes are focused only on the double doors to the venue, waiting for my sister to walk out in her dress.
I lean in and speak to him out of the side of my mouth, hands still clasped in front of me while we wait. “She’s always late; it’s not you.”
He finally tears his eyes from the doors as Chris, one of his good friends and another groomsman, laughs behind me.
“No, it’s definitely you,” Chris says, not even trying to stay quiet. A smile kicks my lips up as Michael wipes his hands off on his pants.
He’s already back to looking at the doors, not a word in response. The poor guy. My sister’s really got him worked up.
“She loves you.” I don’t know why the words slip out. He knows it. Everyone does. He and Ali were meant to be together.
With a slight asymmetric smile, he relaxes a touch and looks back at me, the worry and nerves still there as he nods his head. “I love her too.” The crowd stirs at the sound of an acoustic guitar playing a soft song as the doors finally open.
Here we go; I straighten my back and watch as the first bridesmaid walks out.
My sweetheart. She’s breathtaking. The thin dress swishes as she walks down the aisle of pale blue and white petals. My heart thumps and then seems to stop before madly racing, refusing to stay where it’s supposed to be.
Her steps are measured and her hands are wrapped around the bouquet of white roses, blue hydrangea and baby’s breath. I stare at her, my heart beating slower as she comes closer and everything else blurs around her. She’s not walking to me, and she’s not the bride, but just the sight of her makes my heart misbehave.
She tucks a bit of hair behind her ear as she ta
kes a quick peek at the guests. Her nerves can’t hide with her head slightly ducked, and it looks so damn good on her.
She’s sweet like that. Real sweet.
I can’t stop staring at her, willing her to look back at me.
“You’re drooling,” Chris says, nudging me in the shoulder and I turn to look at him, my hand instinctively going to my mouth.
The guys laugh, including Michael. Jackass. I turn back to her just as she finally makes it to us and catch her stare.
She gives me a sweet, soft smile, complete with a deeper blush on her cheeks, and quickly looks away. My chest fills with warmth, but then she’s gone, standing on the other side of Michael and out of my view.
The other bridesmaids file in and then the music changes as my sister appears in the double doors, cueing the crowd to stand and the music to change.
I take the moment while everyone’s looking at the bride to peek behind Michael at Grace.
The mask she was wearing is down, and in its place is a look I didn’t expect to see. Worry, anxiety. Her eyes though, those beautiful doe eyes are wide with something else.
She must feel my eyes on her, because she turns her head to me and the mask goes right up. Her eyes are still glassy. She can’t hide that.
“You okay?” I mouth the question to her.
She nods back and gives me a tight smile. I don’t have time to ask her anything else. The wedding’s in full swing with the delicate version of the wedding march from the acoustic guitar.
I stand straight and look forward, watching as my father gives Ali away and Michael steps forward. With both hands still clasped in front of me, I get another view of Grace and the sweet facade is back, but I can’t forget what I saw.
A tear slips down her cheek and she wipes it quickly, playing it off as if it’s the wedding and emotional tears of joy.
But I know better. She may say she’s okay. She may play it off.