Always a Bridesmaid

Faye surveyed herself in the full-length mirror in the dressing room. Her ebony hair was arranged into a ballerina's knot with wispy curls framing her face. Her dress was pale lavender, full length with a fitted bodice, and flaring skirt. The bodice, with its sewn in bra, showed the full mounds of her breasts to advantage, accenting their round fullness. "Well, at least this color works for me" Faye spoke her thoughts out loud. This was her fourth wedding this year as a brides-maid, and some of the dresses she had been required to wear in her role had done absolutely nothing to flatter her very full figure.

Faye was not really fat, but she was short, only 5' tall, had 36DD breasts, and probably fifty pounds heavier than she should be for her height. She had, at one time, thought of having a breast reduction, but finally decided that this was the way she was meant to be, and besides, she wasn't the one who had a problem with her size and shape. She took one final look in the mirror, checking that her makeup was not too heavy, that the darker lavender eye shadow complimented her hazel eyes and her dress, the lipstick, a dark mauve accented her full lips. Her half inch nails were polished to match the lipstick. She had spike heels on, dyed to match her dress and very sheer stockings held in place by a lavender garter that matched the lavender lace panties she wore.

The two other brides maids in their dresses, matching Faye's, were also checking their reflections. Mandy, the maid of honor, was dressed in a gown similar to the brides maids, but hers was a darker lavender. All four of the bride's attendants had known Colleen, the bride, since their grade school days. All of them were 26 years old. Cindy, Joan, and Leanne had all three gotten married this year, and Faye had been a brides maid at each of their weddings.

Mandy and Faye would be, after today, the only single women left in their tight-knit group. Mandy was dating Stuart, the Best Man at today's wedding, and had been for almost five months now. Faye hadn't been dating anyone seriously since Vince, her sometimes boyfriend for the last 12 years, transferred with his company to the west coast. He had asked her to go with him, but hadn't really proposed marriage, so Faye had told him she needed time to think about it. She was still thinking, really. They had been lovers since their senior year of college. Faye knew that over the last few years there had been other women for him, but Vince was the only man she had ever been intimate with. She no longer knew if it was love she felt for him, or simply the comfort of the familiar. "Ah well," she sighed to herself, "lets just get through today."

Colleen's mother poked her head through the door and told the four ladies that it was time to line up for the processional. Faye picked up her bouquet, making sure the ribbons hung down straight and took her position in line, being the last one as they lined up tallest to shortest. As the organist began the opening notes of their cue, the two five year old flower girls, twin nieces of the bride, stepped out and began their walk down the aisle, tossing rose petals as they walked. The bides maid then started their own walk down the aisle. Faye kept her eye's focused ahead, to the alter where Hal, the groom, and his four groomsmen waited, watching. She recognized three of the groomsmen, all old friends, but the fourth was a stranger to her. He was Hal's best friend from college, Mark Hazelton. He lived out of state and had been unable to attend any of the rehearsals or last night's rehearsal dinner, having only arrived in town late last night. Faye felt the intensity of his gaze as she reached the front and took her position on the bride's side, standing just across and opposite of him.

The music changed as she settled into her place, the Bridal March beginning. Every head turned to watch the bride's walk down the aisle on her father's arm. Faye's eyes glistened with tears as she watched her friend's walk down the aisle, her step slow, but sure. Colleen's limp was barely noticeable, and she had abandoned her cane, using her father's arm for her support, trusting that Hal would be her support at the alter. He placed his daughter's hand into the waiting hand of her groom, kissed her cheek and took his place in the front pew with Colleen's mother.

Finally, the Bride and Groom shared a kiss and began their walk down the aisle. Behind them, each grooms man offered his arm to his corresponding brides maid. Faye laid her hand lightly on the extended arm of Mark Hazelton and allowed him to escort her down the aisle. The congregation began filing out behind them. All the while Faye was aware of the firm arm under her fingertips. She kept her eyes fixed ahead, resisting the urge to check him out closer. One shy glance in his direction showed that he too was keeping his eyes steadily on the couples ahead.

The reception was in the annex next to the church and was already filling up with guest who had elected to attend the reception. The wedding party made their way to the head table. Faye was seated next to Kevin, one of the grooms men, and Joan's husband. Mark Hazelton sat sat down on her right. He smiled warmly at her and extended his hand. "Mark Hazelton. You must be Faye. You were out of town when we all got together last month when I was in town." His voice was deep, warm, and oh so sexy, sending warm shivers up and down Faye's spine, making a warm fuzzy glow in the pit of her stomach.

Faye gathered her wits enough to respond, making small talk through out the wedding dinner. Afterwards, when the four piece combo hired for the reception began playing dance music she found herself being escorted to the cleared dance area. Mark Hazelton's arms held her close to his body, fitting her against him, her head coming to just under his chin. She started out trying to hold herself away from his body, but after the first turns she had her head resting on his chest, one arm wrapped around his neck, the other clasped in his nestled close to his body.

They didn't speak. When the music stopped, they stood together waiting for the next song to begin, then danced once more, both of Faye's arms around Mark's neck, his hands around her body, holding her closer yet, her head again nestled to his chest, his head bent, resting on the top of her head. After the third dance he took her hand and led her off the dance floor, through the people gathered in small groups, to the front of the reception hall and out the front doors. The church was still open. Mark led her into one of the dressing rooms and closed and turn the lock on the door. Then he gathered her into his arms and claimed her lips with his. His lips claimed hers with passion and Faye answered them back with passion of her own, her mouth opening, inviting him in. Their tongues met, danced, caressed, teased and invited.

Faye didn't stop to question, to ask why. She just knew she had to have this right now, right here, with this man. It was right. It was supposed to be. Nothing mattered except this moment and this man. She arched her neck as his mouth left hers to travel down her chin, her neck and to the cleavage exposed by her dress. He kissed and licked the tops of her breasts, kneading them with his hands through the dress, feeling her response though the thin material. Faye was gasping for air, wanting more, and he gave it to her, freeing her breasts from their confines, drawing a nipple into his mouth as his other hand caressed and pulled the other. Faye held his head to her, murmuring her approval, telling him what she wanted, what she needed from him. Her free hand worked its way down his body finding the proof of his desire, cupping her hand over his hardness, pressing and rubbing him with her hand, tracing his bulging outline with her fingers, milking him through his pants. He groaned and bit her nipple, hard.

Faye arched into him urgently, grinding her pelvis into his groin, increasing her own pleasure as she did so. He responding by grinding into her and she felt the heat grow and expand in her core. They rocked their bodies against each other, Mark moving his mouth to her other breast. He drew the tight bug into his mouth, sucking, nibbling, licking the tip as one hand cupped and lifted the other, enjoying its heavy fullness as he pinched the nipple as he pulled it. His other hand began pulling up the skirt of her dress, trapping it with their joined bodies to hold it up so he could trace his way up a silk-clad leg, past the top of her stocking, over the smooth skin of her thigh to the center of her, covered with wet silk lace.

Her panties were no barrier to his questing fingers. He simply moved the crotch aside and explored the curly pubic hair before slipping a long finger into her, finding with unerring accuracy her clitoris, already free of its hood. Their bodies still pressed together, holding his hand tight to her as his finger explored. They rocked together more as he ran a finger gently over her clitoris over and over again. Her breathing was rapid; her body arched into him, her free hand pressed his mouth tighter to her breast encouraging him to use it a bit more roughly as he bit a little harder, squeezed the other nipple tighter between his fingers, pulling it taunt.

Faye felt her orgasm building, the anticipation making her cry out to Mark, asking him to not stop, to help her, to bring her up to the top and, as she reached the heights, she screamed as with a hard nip of his teeth and the quick thrust of his groin against her pelvis, his finger urgently stroking her clitoris her orgasm shattered over her, sending a flood of electrifying pleasure throughout her body, leaving her shaken and grasping for a steady breath.

Mark was still grinding into her, his hard length pressed tight to her through his pants, his eyes closed, his breathing forced. Faye realized his distress and with fumbling fingers tried to release him from his pants, finally asking him to help her free him. With trembling, urgent hands Mark released himself from the confines of his pants, allowing them to fall around his ankles as he stood before Faye, his hardness covered only by his snowy white briefs. Faye stripped them down, releasing him, allowing his penis to spring forth, all nine inches of him pointing at her, awaiting her. Mark stood with his hands at her sides, waiting to see what she would do. He didn't have long to wait as she dropped to her knees and with trembling hands took him and guided him into her mouth.

She could taste the saltiness of his sweat; the sweetness of the drops of pre-cum that clung to the tip of his penis. She opened her mouth wide, taking the first few inches of him into her mouth, bobbing her head slowly up and down his shaft as she licked her tongue up and down and around as she did so. She started taking more and more into her mouth, working him down her throat, gagging once in a while until she finally managed to have almost all of him in her mouth. She held him there briefly, sucking him and playing with his balls hanging in their sack. As she heard his moans of pleasure, felt his fingers massage her neck and shoulders, she began to bob her head up and down again, slowly at first, then faster and faster, her mouth closed tightly, opening wider once in a while to allow the accumulated saliva to dribble out of her mouth and down her chin.

Faye felt his body begin to tense, felt his balls draw up, the sack tightening around them, before she heard his loud release of pleasure, his head thrown back, guttural words escaping as his first burst of cum sprayed deep into her throat, forcing her to swallow quickly as two more streams of cum escaped him, one after the other. Faye swallowed most of it, only a little spilling from her mouth, down her chin, dripping onto her exposed breasts. Slowly sliding his penis from between her lips she licked and sucked as she went, and when it finally popped free she licked the tip, catching the last few drops of oozing cum on her tongue, spreading it across her lips.

Mark pulled her up, catching her mouth with his, licking her lips before slipping a tongue into her mouth, tasting himself there. They held each other tight for a few minute more, then stood back, Mark pulling up his briefs and pants, tucking his shirt back in, readjusting his frock coat until he once again looked unruffled.

Faye had pulled her skirt down, trying to shake out the wrinkles and was attempting to put her breasts back into the dress, but her hands were shaking and Mark had to help. She shivered with pleasure as he bent and kissed each one once more before stuffing their fullness back into the dresses bodice. Faye found a tissue to wipe off the lipstick that was now smeared on her face. Her hair was a little bit worse for wear, but there was nothing she could do; perhaps every one would attribute it to the dancing going on at the reception.

Mark took her hands in his, pulled her to him and held her close. She knew they had to talk. She had never done anything like this. Never allowed a man to take her like this, especially one she had meet less than three hours before. Instinctively she knew that this was uncharacteristic for Mark also. She had been as drawn to him the moment their eyes met as she was walking down the aisle as he had been to her. No, now was not the time to talk, but talk they would, tonight, after the reception. Tonight and every night for the rest of their lives. She was sure of it, and from the look in Mark's eyes, he knew it too. With one last kiss of promise for the future, they returned to the reception.