Wedding Games

The second (and concluding) chapter has already been submitted to Literotica.

Note to readers: This story is a stand-alone sequel to an earlier story, "Beer Busts: Suds, Songs, and Sex." However, some of the dialog and several of the minor plot-lines will be easier to follow if you have read the earlier story.

~~~~~

It was early June several decades ago, and I was back in my hometown after my freshman year at the university. I had joined a fraternity, and thanks to their influence, I had lost my virginity, gotten my first blowjob, and in April I had enjoyed both group sex and all-night sex with two of us sharing Rachel. Unexpectedly I had been unable to get beyond a goodnight kiss in the intervening six weeks, and now, having finally tasted the previously forbidden fruit, I was experiencing a painful case of withdrawal. To combat my constant state of sexual arousal, I beat my meat several times a day. It only made things worse.

Even when I used pictures of naked women in magazines to push me close to the edge, I always closed my eyes as my excitement built. That allowed me to relive the sight, sound, and scent of Rachel's trembling body and the direct stimulation produced by her pulsing and twitching vagina around my penis. She was always the woman I fucked in my masturbatory dreams, but she was never again going to be available to me for actual sex. She was engaged to my pledge dad, B.T. ("Big Tom"). The three of us had never repeated our incredible April night after my first Stage Three beer bust. Perhaps we might have done so, but it was clearly not my place to suggest it!

At that memorable beer bust, nine men, including B.T. and me, had ejaculated into Rachel, in the process setting a new fraternity record. At her suggestion, the three of us had slept together that night, with Rachel switching back and forth between B.T. and me as each of us ejaculated, whether she had an orgasm or not. By so doing she was able to maintain a multiply-orgasmic level of arousal, and she kept fucking us until she collapsed. It was certainly no surprise that visions of sex with Rachel had dominated my sexual fantasies ever since!

I felt slightly guilty as I sat on my bed and smelled the mound of cum which was securely contained in a pile of toilet paper covering my left palm. My dream had involved intense sex between Rachel and me. B.T. had not been any part of my most recent sexual fantasy. I owed so much to B.T., so how in the hell could I use his fiancee as my imaginary sexual partner? My musing ended when I glanced out the window and saw our mail carrier headed toward our front door. I heard the clunk of arriving mail a moment before I consigned my ejaculate to the city sewer system.

I couldn't ignore the irony when I checked the mail. The only item for me was a fancy envelope from someone whose name I didn't recognize. After I opened it, I saw that it was the formal invitation to the wedding of Rachel Marie and Thomas James. (B.T. was obviously an inappropriate appellation for him in a formal announcement!) Its arrival was not really a surprise because I'd already agreed to be a groomsman at their wedding. However the arrival of the official invitation caused me to resolve to never again think about sex with Rachel when I masturbated. I kept that pledge for nearly six hours. Once again I imagined having sex with Rachel - sans B.T., of course - showing how easily raw lust overpowered modest guilt.

~~~~~

One Friday about a week before the end of August I flew to Rachel's hometown. At the airport I was met by B.T.'s best man, his older brother Dave, who drove me to a hotel. Less than an hour later the entire male cast of the wedding party assembled in the hotel lobby. After introductions, we piled into cars and headed to the tuxedo shop. After a few minor adjustments, all of our fancy clothes were judged to be correct, and we drove back to the hotel. I hung my rented tux in the closet and dressed for the wedding rehearsal.

As planned, the men (other than the fathers of the bride and groom) met in the hotel bar and got better acquainted. We were all dressed in slacks and open-collar dress shirts for the rehearsal - and also for the rehearsal dinner which was scheduled to follow shortly thereafter. We knew the women would be wearing skirts and blouses. Ties and jackets had been judged 'too stiff' for today's activities.

In addition to B.T. and his brother Dave, there were four groomsmen, including me. One of the other guys was another member of our fraternity, and the final two were lifelong friends from B.T.'s highschool days. B.T.'s highschool friends and his brother Dave were married, and our other fraternity brother was engaged. I was both the youngest and also the only lone wolf among the men. It wasn't long before I was receiving lots advice about seducing Mary, the unmarried bridesmaid whom I would be escorting.

"Mary's no slut, but she's supposed to be hot in bed," Dave assured me. "Not that I have any personal experience, of course!"

"Hell, she just broke up with a guy she's been livin' with for two years!" B.T. chimed in. "After gettin' it regularly, she's gotta be gettin' itchy. Hell, I'll be even YOU can get into her pants, Don! Even if she is three years older than you! All you gotta do is talk her into robbing the cradle!"

After more suggestions for ways I could bed Mary, I was at first grateful when the sexual banter shifted to B.T.'s upcoming wedding night. Then I felt an unsettling wave of jealousy sweep over me. I could remember Rachel's vagina clamping down and squeezing my penis as she climaxed, and it suddenly became rock-hard. I still had an inappropriate sexual fixation on B.T.'s bride-to-be, and I had trouble joking about the two of them in bed.

After we finished our drinks we were driven to the church, and I finally met the rest of the wedding party. Mary turned out to be a short, cute blonde with a bubbly personality and lots of feminine curves. We wandered off together and began to get acquainted. She gave me an appraising look, and then grinned as she remarked, "You look more like a tennis player than a musician, Don!"

What? I could play the guitar, but I was hardly a musician! "Who told you I'm a musician, Mary? I mean . . . Well I play the guitar a little . . . But I'm not . . . "

Mary frowned. "Rachel told me that! I'm sure of it! Well, maybe she's playing one of her games!" With that she took me firmly by the arm and dragged me over to a corner where the florist was discussing final flower arrangements with Rachel. Standing so close to Rachel excited me, and I had to put one hand in my pocket to rearrange my erection so that it wouldn't tent my pants. Mary and I waited until the florist finally moved away. I was so aroused I had trouble breathing. This was not good!

Mary remarked, "Rachel, I don't know what game you're playing, but Don says he isn't a musician. Didn't you tell me he was a really talented performer? That he was a fantastic flute player?"

Oh God! I knew what was coming, and I held my breath. Rachel grinned. "Skin flute, Mary! He's a virtuoso with his skin flute!"

I felt heat spreading over my face as I blushed. Mary looked momentarily puzzled. "Skin? What kind of flute is a skin . . . OH SHIT!" Her face turned a deep crimson and Rachel began to laugh. The sound came from deep within her, throaty and lusty. I remembered that she made a similar sound when she climaxed, and I felt my balls beginning to tighten and throb.

"Got you!" Rachel said. "I thought you might like to experience one of Don's private flute recitals! Heck, you'll both be here for two nights! Why waste them?" Rachel grinned and walked away, still laughing at our discomfort.

"Mary, I swear . . . "

"It's okay, Don, " Mary said. "Rachel's just having a little fun with us. We're the only two unattached people here, and . . . " Mary was silent for a few seconds.

Suddenly Mary grabbed both of my arms and looked up into my face. "What did she mean? She sounded like she KNEW you were great in bed! And you blushed so red you looked guilty! Did you and Rachel . . .?" There were both curiosity and concern on her face as her eyes moved back and forth between mine.

"Mary, I swear to you! B.T. would kill me if he caught me in bed with Rachel! And he's my pledge father! So unless you think that B.T. and Rachel and I did a threesome together, there's no other way that it could happen with Rachel and me." I wasn't exactly lying, but it was pretty darned close. I had fucked Rachel at the Stage Three beer bust while B.T. was watching (as had several other guys), but that's sort of a threesome, too, isn't it? And he didn't actually "catch" me in bed with Rachel!

Mary stared into my eyes for several more seconds. "I don't . . . Well, maybe . . . Okay. One of the other bridesmaids tried to tell us that there was some sort of sex party that Rachel got into, but nobody believed it. Maybe if that's true, you could have . . . No, not Rachel! She's just yanking my chain to get my mind off of . . . a trusted boyfriend who cheated on me."

Now I knew why Mary broke up with her live-in boyfriend. I saw tears well up in her eyes, and I handed her my handkerchief. She blotted her eyes and handed it back to me. "Thanks, Don. I was really serious about him, but he was fooling around and I found out. Shit, why dance around it? I caught them fucking in our bed! Dammit! Enough of this! Let's talk about Rachel and Tom! What'd you get them?"

We talked about our respective wedding presents, and then we sat down together to wait for the practice to begin. I saw Mary glance at the front of my pants and slightly raise her eyebrows, and I realized my penis was still erect. But my arousal was now partially caused by the view I had down the front of her blouse. The top of her head was below my chin, and she had to look up to see my face, giving me plenty of time to avoid getting caught staring at her boobs. Her bra left most of the top half of her breasts visible from my angle. I could almost see her areolae every time she twisted her torso as she looked around the room.

Some minor problem was delaying the practice, so Mary and I continued getting acquainted. As she leaned forward to whisper to me, her movements allowed her blouse to gape open. Her face was so close I could smell her subtle perfume. I couldn't control my response to her, and I knew I would have a problem when I stood up. She had really nice breasts, and I was getting a great look at them!

Actually I was relieved to be having a sexual reaction to someone other than Rachel, but when the minister announced that it was time to begin, I didn't know how I could conceal my erection. I needn't have worried. "Better adjust your flute, Don," Mary whispered. "I'm glad I can still do that to a guy I've just met, but people are going to talk about us if they see it sticking out like that!" As she got to her feet she reached over and gave the head of my erection a gentle pat through my pants.

Mary's abrupt intimate touch stunned me. She giggled at my discomfort. I stood up, and shielded by her from everyone else, once again put a hand in my pocket to adjust my equipment. She had an amused expression on her face as she watched everything I did.

When I was once again reasonably presentable, Mary took my arm and pressed her left breast firmly against my biceps. "I realize you can't wipe the red off your face, Don, but please try not to breathe so loudly! People will think we've been up to something!" I could feel her chuckling silently as we walked over and rejoined the rest of the group.

I felt a flash of resentment before I figured out that she was having fun with me, not putting me down. She'd lived with a guy for a couple of years, but my only meaningful sexual experience had been a single night of intense sex during and after a Stage Three beer bust – with the most memorable clearly the few hours I'd experienced with Rachel. As the saying goes, Mary had probably forgotten more about sex than I'd ever learned.

We practiced our individual parts in the ceremony, then we did a complete run-through. For fifteen on twenty minutes we also practiced how we would stand in the various planned formal wedding pictures. I was still captivated by repeatedly being so close to Rachel, but Mary's presence was also affecting me.

I was so aroused I began to feel slightly disoriented, almost dizzy. Instead of lusting after either Rachel or Mary, I was sexually aroused by both. Vivid, full-color images of Rachel's face and entire body as she had climaxed flashed into my head, interspersed with images I'd gleaned through glances at Mary's breasts. I could almost feel her hand where she had touched my cock.

I really needed to get laid, and I really hoped that bedding Mary would end my sexual obsession with Rachel. Surely it would be better to masturbate while remembering sex with a woman I probably would never see again than with a newly-married one!

After the rehearsal I was in an all-guy car for the short ride back to the hotel for the rehearsal dinner. As a result I was able to completely regain my composure by the time we reached the hotel's restaurant. My balls finally stopped aching a few minutes after my erection subsided, but my relief didn't last long.

I was seated next to Mary, at a different table from B.T. and Rachel. Mary maintained nearly constant contact between our thighs, and she managed to rub her good-sized breasts against my arm on several occasions. She had a distinct twinkle in her eyes and a smile on her face. She knew she was turning me on with all of the physical contact. Well, let her have her fun! It was fun for me, too!

We also got reasonably well acquainted. We shared similar political views, and it was obvious that we both liked each other. We told each other the abridged stories of our lives - I leaving out any mention of having had sex with the bride, and Mary omitting any mention of her recent live-in boyfriend or other lovers. We shared a ribald sense of humor, and we were both laughing and giggling at the sexual innuendos we tossed back and forth to each other.

The only sour note concerned our long-term career plans. Unexpectedly it involved the intellectual environment at colleges and universities. After completing only one year, I believed that my future would be brightest if I got a Ph.D. and became a professor. But after completing four years, Mary was disgusted with what she characterized as "the inherent hypocrisy of the intellectual environment" at colleges and universities.

Before I could ask Mary for a detailed explanation, she added the decisive factor. "Besides, my dad's a professor, and I'm not gonna live that poor for the rest of my life," she said in an unexpectedly bitter tone. Well, she was on the mark with that concern. Making lots of money wasn't one of the motives driving my ambitions, and I knew she was right about professors not having a lot of money.

I really wasn't upset that she'd essentially proclaimed that the longest our relationship could possibly endure would be a two-night stand. In fact that sounded pretty darned good to me! If I played my cards correctly, I could gain two nights of sexual experience with her that I could apply to women I subsequently dated! Now that was a plan!

So, the immediate good news was simple: neither of us was seeking a serious relationship with the other. The possibility of my talking my way into her panties for a couple of nights really began to seem attainable. Since I'd already had sex with Rachel, the fact that Mary was a little older and more experienced than I was didn't deter me. So I kept up what I hoped was relaxed banter, and I was frequently rewarded by feeling her sexy body wiggling against mine as she laughed.

As I was eating my dessert, I almost jumped out of my chair when I felt Mary's hand slide over the top of my thigh. She quickly reached over and gave my erection a squeeze. Still holding it she whispered, "Nice flute!" She squeezed it again, then moved her hand away. She giggled. Obviously she was considering me as a short-term bed-mate, and it was up to me to make the next move.

A few seconds later I slipped my hand onto Mary's thigh, but she shoved it away. She looked at me and gently shook her head. Her leg was still pressed firmly against mine, and I remained erect. I was thoroughly and completely baffled. She was giving me plenty of signals that she wanted more physical contact, but she didn't want me to touch her. I assumed that, as the 'older woman', she was taking charge of whatever eventually transpired between us. Apparently everything between us was going to be on her terms.

The men were having a bachelor's party at another hotel, and the women were having their own party in one of the rooms at the hotel where we were staying. When the dinner was over, I escorted Mary to her room. Before she opened her door, she turned and leaned back against it. What she expected was obvious. I held her and kissed her lips. She gave me lots of tongue action, and I KNEW I was going to spend the night in her bed if I didn't screw it up!

We finally came up for air. "Our party should be over by 12:30 or 1:00," I said. "How about I give you a call then? Maybe we could, you know, get a drink or something." Of course what I meant was, "As soon as we're both done with our parties let's hop into bed and fuck!"

Mary patted me on the cheek. "Don, that's sweet. It really is. But I really need to get my sleep tonight. So I'm saying no." After all of the physical touching she'd given me, I couldn't have been more surprised if she'd spat at me!

My expression must have given me away. "Don, I'm sorry! I was deliberately teasing you and trying to get you aroused. I needed . . . I needed to prove to myself that I could still do it, I guess. But I don't want or need a one-night stand with anyone right now. You're a really nice guy, but you're still a kid. My younger brother is older than you! I know that Rachel was just having fun when she said what a good lover you are. You're much too easy to turn on! I'll bet I could get you to shoot your wad right here! Still wearing your pants! Someday I'm sure you'll be a great lover, but you need more experience. And I'm not ready to be someone for you to practice on. Okay? Still friends?"

I nodded. Mary had obviously prepared her long speech, and there wasn't anything I could quickly think of that would change her mind. She wrinkled her brow as she looked at me. ""C'mon, Don! You're what, nineteen?"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean . . . "

"It explains why you're so quick on the draw. That's good! But it also means you're probably quick on the trigger, too!" Mary paused, probably to gather her thoughts. Telling her about my fucking experiences at the Stage Three beer bust might have changed her mind, but that event was a secret. Also I couldn't help remembering the time I'd been naked in the shower with Rachel and Kelly. I'd ejaculated on Rachel as soon as she'd touched my cock, and she'd made a comment about my being quick on the draw. I could hardly blame Mary for her opinions!

"Don, every guy I've ever gone out with has been older than me - well, at least a little. My first so-called lover was nineteen, and my second twenty-one. Guys your age are really eager, but you don't know enough about women to know what you're doing. I didn't get properly laid until I was in college, and I don't have any desire to relive my times in bed with inexperienced but sexy, young hunks like you. There's a whole lot more to great sex than sticking your pole in the hole and moving it in and out!"

I certainly knew about that kind of sex! Once again I couldn't say anything about it to Mary. At parties the fraternity usually had several Seas available for fucking guys who were wearing condoms, one brother after the other. (Seas are coeds who are Covered-Cock Sluts, CCS, or Seas for short.) I'd lost my virginity to one of them. I interrupted my trip down Sexual Memory Lane long enough to give Mary my best smile.