The Singles Table

I walked into the reception without a clue where I was to sit. The wedding had been at a traditional chapel about ten miles from here. However, the bride and groom had opted to take photos between the wedding and reception, giving the guests an hour to kill before the cake and rubber chicken.

The reception hall was in one of the seven banquet rooms at the hotel. I was staying here, so I didn't have to worry about driving home tonight. Most of the family and friends were here as well.

If it sounds like I might be slightly jaded, I was. My date to the wedding had bailed at the last minute, and I'd been informed by the bride, who had been my college friend, that I would be sitting next to someone named Randy at the singles table. Yes, they actually had a name for the place where they parked the terminally unattached.

I wandered into the room and looked around. I knew that mutual acquaintances would be slim. After college, most of our friends had stayed in the area, but the bride and I had both gone off to other cities. Except for the occasional Facebook posts about our escapades and spouses, we didn't see many of them these days.

I sighed and looked around the room. I had expected to see more people that I knew. Hell, at this point, I couldn't even find the bride.

Ok, new plan, make an appearance, put in enough face time to be remembered afterwards, and then scoot back to my hotel room for some ice cream and rom-coms on the hotel cable.

I must have looked lost because a man walked up to me and started talking. "Are you here alone?" he said.

"Not a good idea to try to pick up someone at a wedding," I pointed out.

Even as the words left my mouth, I was a bit sorry I'd said it. He was somewhat cute. He was about my height, maybe 5'8" or so. He had dark hair, dark eyes, and what might have been a darker complexion. Hadn't Marcia mentioned something about some South American relatives? I tried to remember, but the thought was elusive. He had a crooked smile that just begged for a smart assed comment in return.

"I was planning no such thing," he said with that grin still on his face. "I was just going to show you where the singles table was."

I groaned. "You wouldn't be Randy, would you?" I asked with trepidation. I wouldn't want to actually enjoy the company of the person the bride wanted to fix me up with. That would be too much like conceding that a singles table was a good idea.

"No, I'm Ernesto, but I am a little bit randy when provoked." He gave me another smile.

I rolled my eyes. "That's a guy's name, and the bride said she was going to fix me up with him. I'm studiously avoiding him."

Ernesto shrugged. "There's no Randy at the singles table. You might be okay for a while. Hey, your name wouldn't be Sally would it?"

I shook my head. "No, I'm Maeve. Are you being set up with Sally here?"

His eyes twinkled. "No, I just wanted to know your name. Nice to meet you, Maeve."

He stopped in front of a large table, where three other people sat. Two of them were women, both youngish and both rather sad looking. The other occupant was an older, overweight man who looked resigned to his place at the table. Ernesto pulled out a chair for me, and then sat down beside me.

"So how do you know the bride?" Ernesto asked.

I went through the entire story of our friendship from high school to college to moving away and starting a job. I was thirsty by the time I finished the story, and Ernesto stopped a waiter for four flutes of champagne. "It's an open bar, so drink up. Your friend owes you that much, right?"

I laughed. "And more!" I told him a story about a wedding we'd both been invited to two years ago, and how we'd gotten drunk at the singles table. She'd vowed that night to not have one at her own wedding, but here I was.

The buffet started, and I managed to sober up a bit, even with the two flutes of champagne in me. We sat back down at the table and talked more about him. It turned out that he lived in town, worked as an engineer, and had originally been seated at a couples' table. However, his girlfriend had dumped him about five months ago, more than enough time for him to be switched to this table.

Someone clinked glasses, and all the couples around me starting kissing.

"In my family, all the couples kiss when the glasses clink, not just the bride and groom." From his expression, he was being serious about it.

It appeared to be true as I saw probably twenty different couples kiss each other. He leaned in, and I gave him a chaste kiss on the mouth. His lips were soft and moist, and the experience of them against my lips stayed with me even after we had moved apart.

I took a sip of champagne to cover the fact that I was flustered. I'd originally only planned to stay long enough to do my face time, but I was having second thoughts now.

The DJ announced that the newlyweds would be going out to the dance floor for their first dance. I scrambled into my purse and brought out my phone. I started to point it to the dance floor, when Ernest laid a hand on my arm. "I wouldn't waste your bytes on this," he said.

I looked at him. He had a big grin on his face, and I asked, "Why not? She's my friend."

His smile grew more crooked. "I'm not sure that you really know the bride."

He was right of course. Because at that very moment, a couple started a slow dance, shuffling back and forth across the floor. It was romantic except for the fact that I'd never seen them before. "What? When did you figure it out?"

"One of the stories you told. My cousin would never have done that. She's dated the same guy since tenth grade."

I rolled my eyes. This had been the perfect evening for me. I wasn't even sitting at the right singles table. I started to stand, but Ernesto said, "Wait until the dance is over. Otherwise you'll be in about 50 photos."

I sat back down and waited for the song to end. Then I got up and rushed out of the room as fast as I could in heels. The right wedding was the next banquet room down the hall from where I'd been. I was mortified and didn't even protest when I saw my name on a name card at the singles table here.

I sat down and closed my eyes. This evening couldn't get much worse. I'd missed the meal and the first dance, but the couple -- the couple I knew -- was getting ready to cut the cake. I felt a hand on my shoulder and looked up.

Ernesto looked down at me. "What kind of cake is it?"

"Not sure. I just got here," I replied with an eye roll.

"Me too. I'd hoped to get here earlier but something came up." He gave me another grin, and this time I grinned back. He held two flutes of champagne in his hand, and he offered me one.

The couple cut the cake, and since it was actually the couple that I knew, I took two pieces. Ernesto had made himself at home at the singles table, and I handed him a piece when I returned.

The music slowed, and the DJ requested that all couples come out to dance. Ernesto stood, rolled up his sleeves and held out a hand to me. "Let's show them how it's done."

We walked out to the floor, while some Taylor Swift song. Couples swayed to the music. Ernesto held me tight in his arms as we moved around the dance floor. His hands were strong and firm, and it felt good to put my head on his shoulder after my embarrassing evening. I brushed up against him, and I could feel his hardness as he pressed his body up against mine.

The song ended, and we stopped where we were on the dance floor. "We could go again or --" Ernesto left the sentence open for my response.

"I think I'd prefer the or," I said. I grabbed two flutes of champagne from the waiter's tray and motioned for him to follow me. I walked to the elevator as casually as if I was just going to fetch some make-up from the room. Ernesto followed, having grabbed two more glasses of champagne as well as some cake.

The doors slid open, and we entered the elevator car. We were alone when I pushed the button to the 10th floor. The doors closed silently, and Ernesto approached me without speaking. He brought his face close to mine, so near that I could feel his breath on my chin. I looked in his eyes, and then brushed my lips against him.

I was too nervous to do much else so publicly. He flicked his tongue against my lips, and I nearly let him in, but the elevator stopped at my floor.

I took him by the hand and led him to my room. I opened the door and let him come in. He gave me a grin as we both put the cake and champagne on the table. He picked up one glass in a toast, "To two brides with two singles tables, and one meeting."

I blushed. I'd never been the recipient of a toast, even if it was only the two of us there. I sipped my champagne, set it down, and moved closer to him. He waited until I was close enough to touch, and he took me in his arms.

This time my kiss was less chaste. I pressed my lips firmly against his, and when his tongue poked out of his mouth, I let it in willingly. He found my tongue and they danced together with an anticipation of what was to come.

He put down his glass and wrapped his arm tightly around my waist. I could feel his erection again, firm and hot against my abdomen. My own desire was just as ready, though less visible. I could feel a warmth build up inside of me as we kissed. He allowed one of his arms to let loose of me, and his free hand caressed my face as we continued to kiss.

Here in the privacy of my room I was less restrained. I slid my hand between us and began to unbutton his shirt. He didn't stop my rapidly moving fingers as they walked down the front of his shirt. As I opened them, I slid my hand inside of his shirt. He had on a t-shirt that I wasn't sure how to approach.

He solved the issue. Ernesto stood back from me and stripped off his clothes from the waist up. His upper body was ripped. He had firm abs and hairy well-rounded pecs. I was surprised to see a tattoo run down the length of his arm. I didn't mind it; I just had not expected to see it.

Once undressed, he approached me again for another kiss. This one was more passionate. Our lips locked and tongues grappled. The wet looser nature of it brought out my own passion, and I moaned into his mouth.

He slid a hand around me and tried to remove my dress. He was a bit awkward with it, and I twisted my other arm behind me and opened the clasp. His fingers found the zipper, and the back of the dress opened up. I got goosebumps on my back, but his warm hand melted them quickly.

I brought my shoulders in, so that the dress fell to my waist. Ernesto's hands ran over my upper body, touching and exploring every inch. His mouth dropped away from mine and slowly traced my jawline with short kisses and tiny nips. His tongue darted behind my ear, and I gasped in pleasure. He smiled at me as he unfastened my bra. Soon I was bare from the waist up, and again he pulled me tight. I could feel the muscles of his chest pressed against me, and I let one of my hands run through the hair across the top of his chest. He kissed me again as we stood there.

His hand found one of my breasts. My nipples were already hard from the cooler air in the room, and he quickly worked one of them into a hard pebble. He lowered his head and licked at it. His tongue ran around the edge of my areola, and then his teeth bit gently on my nipple. He repeated the process on the other side until both nipples stood firm.

I used my own hands to push down the dress to the floor. I stood in front of him wearing just a pair of red lace panties and my high-heels.

"I like the look," he said. He unzipped his own trousers and let them fall to the floor. He kicked off his shoes and stepped out of the pants. He wore a pair of black boxer briefs. I could see the outline of his own desire through the cotton, and a small wet drop formed near the waistband.

His legs were thick and hairy, and I wondered what they would feel like against my legs. I walked over to him, still wearing my high heels. I put one foot up on the bed, so that he could admire my legs. He watched as I ran my hands up one leg and stopped at my crotch. My little show had aroused me as much as it had him. I could feel my own juices begin to flow and soak into the fabric of my panties.

I turned and sat on the bed. Ernesto approached me slowly, making me want him more. He stood between my legs and looked down at me. I reached up and slid my thumbs under the waistband of his boxer briefs. He smiled as his dick caught on the band and snapped towards his chest as it was freed. He moved a step closer.

I leaned down and took his thick member in my mouth. I ran my tongue around the head, lapping at his juices, which were oozing out of him now. I filled my mouth with him and then slid him almost out. I repeated this several times until he pulled me off of him.

Now he pushed my legs open, and bent down between them. With his teeth, he pulled the panties down past my crotch and stopped once they were about mid-thigh. He used his hands to move them down farther, while he put his face back between my legs. His tongue found my opening and slid inside. He met no resistance now. I was wet and ready for entry. He found my clit and teased it, licking it gently and then more firmly. He changed the speed and the intensity until I thought I was going to lose control. My hands fisted the comforter on the bed as I moaned and writhed. This only encouraged him.

He pulled away from me, and I looked at the juices running down his bottom lip. I was definitely in the mood now. He leaned in and kissed me. He put most of his weight on his elbows, but pressed against my crotch with his own.

The pressure was thrilling to me. I bucked my hips back and forth, feeling my juices slide up and down his dick. The head brushed against my opening twice and each time, I tried to angle myself to allow him in, but he moved.

Now he kissed me again. I could feel his tongue in my mouth as he entered me. I had been ready, because there was no resistance. He slid inside of me, filling me with his thick member. He started slowly, sliding as far in as he could and then pulling almost all the way out. His girth meant that I felt each motion against my clit and the pressure kept me primed. I could feel the heat building up inside of me. My forehead beaded up with sweat as I matched his rhythm. He didn't speak, but he grunted a few times as I pushed him in as far as he would go. He would pull out again and thrust towards each other. The room was silent except for the grunts and the sounds of our flesh pounding together.

I recognized that I was going to go first. He'd brought me too close to climax before. I couldn't hold out. I caught my breath and gasped as a wave of warmth ran over me. It took my breath away and flooded my thoughts, so that I could think of nothing else. Again and again it ran over me as he continued his rhythm through my orgasm.

By the time that I could catch my breath, I opened my eyes and saw from his face that he was close. I bucked my hips against his again, and he groaned. I could feel his spasms inside of me as he came.

I kept moving until he was spent and then I just rested until he wanted to move. Our bodies had stuck together where our sweat and juices had mingled. He rolled off and smiled at me as he did.

Neither of us said anything for a while. I wasn't typically a one-night kind of girl, but I couldn't think of anything to say that didn't sound slightly desperate. He rolled over to look at me. "So would you really send me back downstairs to the singles table after this?"

I smiled at him. "I think I could manage to keep you around a while."

He nodded. "I have a wedding next month to attend, and it would be nice to sit with some other couples."

I laughed. "It would be."