It was during the spring of 2001 when my cousin, Dave, asked me to be the best man at his wedding. He was an only child and we also grew up as good friends. The wedding was to be in a small town in New Hampshire, where his wife-to-be, Katie, was from. The locale was so rural, that the small chain motel had no rooms left so Dave got me the keys to Katie's Uncle Jack's fishing cabin located on a lake about 15 miles out of town. As it turned out Uncle Jack had to be in Germany on business and much to his regret would miss the wedding.
On the Friday morning before the wedding I loaded my Volkswagen Golf with both my suitcase and my tuxedo on a hanger and headed north. I followed the directions that Dave had e-mailed me and after going down a dirt road finally found the cabin in the early afternoon. I located the key and let myself in. Calling it a cabin was a bit of an understatement because it was beautifully appointed albeit small. The living room had a huge stone fireplace with impressive overstuffed leather furniture. When I looked around, the bedroom had a very nice king size bed and the kitchen had all the necessities including an impressive liquor cabinet. Being this far north, the weather still had a bit of a winter chill to it so I started a fire in the fireplace, got a glass from the cupboard, and availed myself of some of Uncle Jack's bourbon.
I looked at my watch and saw that it was after 4:00 pm so I got up, went to the bathroom where I showered and shaved, and got dressed. By 5:30 I was at the church listening to the pastor give directions to everyone about the ceremony scheduled for the next day. It was not a large wedding with only me, two groomsmen, the maid of honor, and two bridesmaids. It all started at the church when I became aware that one of the bridesmaids, an exceptionally attractive woman at that whom was perhaps a year or two older than me, kept glancing in my direction. Moreover, it continued during dinner when it became even more obvious that she was flirting with me. Earlier we had been introduced—Martha was Katie's older sister, who I learned had been married for just a short time and was recently divorced.
After dinner I went back to the cabin, parked the car, and let myself in. The fire that I had started earlier had been reduced to embers so I put a couple of logs on and went back to the bedroom to change out of my suit into a pair of jeans and a sweatshirt. On my way back to the living room I stopped by the kitchen to pour myself another drink, but then heard a car drive up. Moments later Martha came into the cabin. "Can you believe that the motel screwed up my reservation?" she exclaimed with a certain air of dissatisfaction mixed with disgust.
"It's not that big a place so I assume that they're booked for tonight."
"Yes, they are and Uncle Jack's cabin was the only option I could think of."
"It's OK with me," I said thinking that she also knew that I knew that the cabin only had one bed.
"Great!" she said. "Let me go change, but in the meantime you can make me a drink. I'll have what you are having."
I made Martha her drink and took it into the living room. Several minutes later she joined me and was wearing a long plaid flannel bathrobe. I handed her the drink and then raised mine in a toast to Dave and Katie. We clinked glasses and took a sip.
"This fire feels good. It's taking some of the chill off."
When Martha reached to put her glass down on the coffee table the top of her robe fell open enough to reveal a perfectly proportioned breast. I had to wonder whether it was intentional because she made no effort to conceal it. Instead she said she was still chilled and snuggled up to me. She rested her head on my shoulder and put her hand on my chest.
In response I put my right arm around her and pulled her closer. Then I put my arm under her arm and fondled the right tit that had so conveniently revealed itself to me earlier. Martha offered no resistance and, as a matter of fact, snuggled in even closer. I let my hand slip down the opening in her robe, which also revealed that there was nothing except Martha inside. It might have been a little reach, but I was able to feel around until I found her bush.
"Oh, Rob, but I like that," she cooed then taking the initiative to find the zipper to my jeans. To say that I had developed an erection by this point would be only a huge understatement if not an outright lie. "And apparently, you do, too!" she added.
"I find you very attractive. And, yes, I'm enjoying every minute of this," I replied letting my middle finger find its way through the bush. I teased her clit for a few moments before inserting my finger into her now quite moist vagina.
