This is the twenty-fifth episode of my unreliable memoirs (gosh!). Each episode is self-contained so you can read them without having read the previous ones (although sometimes it helps with the context and names a bit).
I've tried to write this from Lesley's perspective as the events in this episode probably had a greater influence on her than they did on me. Let us know what you think.
The year is 1983 and this piece focuses on what happened at the wedding of two of Lesley's best friends.
I hope you enjoy it.
M4bloke
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The Porsche 911 burbled its way up the M1 motorway towards Nottingham at a steady eighty miles an hour. Most cars moved over for us but the occasional road warrior blocked the outside lane causing us to drop back to seventy. It was ok, we weren't in any hurry.
Steven knew I liked to drive the Porsche and he was happy to sit in the passenger seat. He appreciated the car for its engineering but he didn't get the same feeling as I did when it came to driving it. He only got that from riding motorbikes.
A little over half way, at Northampton, it started to rain and the Friday evening traffic slowed down. Steven reached over and placed his hand on my thigh. I parted my legs to give him better access and he pulled my dress up then delicately ran a finger over my pussy lips before probing the entrance to my vagina. I'd made sure not to wear any panties because I'd thought, or rather I'd hoped, this would happen at some point in the journey. Some girls don't like their men fondling them when they're out and I can respect that, but for me it's the other way round. I'm disappointed if Steven doesn't. I just find it reaffirming that he finds me desirable, especially when I've made an effort to look good for him.
"Truck!" I called out.
Quickly, Steven removed his hand and replaced my dress. The trouble with sports cars is that they sit so low to the ground that truck drivers have a perfect view of what's going on inside. We'd been caught out like this before but were wise to it now and once we'd passed the potential peeping tom I didn't have to wait too long before Steven's fingers were teasing me again.
It was seven by the time we arrived at what was charmingly called a "country house hotel". At some time, probably before the war, it had been a large private country house. Now it had an ugly sixties style accommodation wing added to it, which destroyed much of the character but made the hotel commercially viable. Although it wasn't going to win any prizes for architecture, the redeeming feature of the hotel was that it was the venue for the wedding reception on Saturday. It was also the place where Pete the groom, his family and many of the invitees who needed to travel were staying that night.
The rain was coming down pretty heavily now. The weather forecast said it was going to be nice for Rachel and Pete's wedding tomorrow, but right now it didn't look promising. We parked the car and made a dash for the hotel's entrance. Steven had made me horny with his fingering and I just wanted to go up to our room and fuck but when we walked into reception I realised that wasn't going to happen.
"Lesley, Steve," Pete shouted from the bar. "Come and join us."
"We'll just check in and drop our bags off, Pete. Then we'll be right there," I shouted back.
We checked in then went up to our room. The moment the door closed we were kissing like teenagers. Steven had my summer dress up around my waist and was feeling my bottom while I had my arms around his neck pulling his head down onto me.
"Do you want to fuck me quickly?" I asked.
"I don't think we have time do we?" he replied.
"No, you're probably right."
I opened my overnight bag and fished out a pair of panties instead, then having put them on, we went down to the bar.
Pete greeted us warmly and introduced us to the assembled drinkers, which included among others, his mum and dad and his best man, Graham. I recognised a few of the other faces from Rachel's hen night the other week, in particular Suzy who was also going to be a bridesmaid. Rachel had chosen three bridesmaids, one she grew up with, one she was at university with, which was Suzy, and one she worked with, which was me, although I'd rather messed that up when I'd moved to London.
Suzy and I had got on well at the hen night and we'd spent a lot of it dancing and chatting together. She was on her own at the bar, so I joined her while Steven found out from Pete what he needed to do as one of his groomsmen.
"I'm glad you're here," said Suzy. "Graham's already been hitting on me."
"He looks a bit of knob-end." I replied.
"He's a right twat." Suzy laughed. Then, looking over to Steven she said, "So that's your husband is it? Rachel said he was a bit of a catch."
"Oh she did, did she?" I laughed.
"Well he's definitely a hunk," Suzy helpfully clarified. "Is it true he got stabbed last year and still put two guys in hospital, or was Rachel just making that up?"
"It's true." I said. "I was still living in Nottingham then and Rachel and Pete came to visit us after it happened."
"Was that when society beauty, Kate Davidson, wife of multi-millionaire Daniel Davidson was staying with you?"
"There are no secrets with Rachel are there?"
"I'm afraid not," Suzy joked.
"Anyway, why are you on your own, if that's not a rude question?" I asked.
"I just am. Can't seem to find the right man I guess. Last guy I went out with dumped me at Christmas."
"I would have thought an attractive, intelligent person like you wouldn't have a problem finding a bloke."
"Finding a bloke is easy, finding the right bloke's a bit more difficult. I mean, I guess I could have Graham tonight if I wanted," she laughed, "but I don't."
At that point Steven arrived back and asked us if we wanted a drink.
"Steven, this is Suzy," I told him. "She's also one of the bridesmaids."
"Hi Suzy," Steven said. "You know I think Graham, the Best Man, has got his eye on you."
"We've already decided he's a twat and a knob-end," I told Steven.
"Ah right," was all Steven could come up with.
"You guys have got to protect me from him," Suzy pleaded. "Promise me."
"We promise," I told her.
"I don't know Suzy. You could be making a big mistake. He's already told me he drives a BMW and he's a blue belt at Taekwondo, and that's almost a black belt apparently!" Steven said joking.
"So, do you know what you have to do tomorrow?" I asked Steven.
"I think I'm a glorified seating attendant, although as I understand it I may be required to offer alcohol and words of reassurance to Pete later this evening. Which reminds me, do you want to eat at some point?"
"You know, I saw a pizza place not far away. Why don't we eat there?" I suggested, knowing that Steven would agree to anything involving pizza. "Do you want to come, Suzy?"
"You mean as opposed to eating by myself or with Graham?" she replied ironically.
"You'll have to hunch up a bit I'm afraid. We've only got a small car."
"That's not a problem. I pack down really small when I have to," Suzy joked.
We made our excuses to Pete and told him we'd be back in an hour or so, then went out to the car.
"This is your small car?" Suzy said ironically, looking at the Porsche.
"Well it's actually Steven's" I told her.
