Pepper: Part the First

Copyright 2009 by grylion. All rights reserved, no copies of this work may be circulated without express permission of grylion or by means of the Literotica website and under Literotica's rules.

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Pepper and I met at university back in the 70s; it was our sophomore year, if I remember correctly. We were both trying to get through our requirements and had several classes together; English Lit, math and such. It was such a long time ago I don't even remember how we got together. I am sure that it wasn't because she was an attractive, curvy blonde, with a "come-hither" look in her eyes. Yeah, right. Suffice it to say, we started to spend time together, probably because she was/is brighter than me, helping me through some of the tougher parts of the classes we had together. OK, I digress. We started out getting together for coffee after class or after studying and moved to grabbing lunch and very platonic "dinner dates". I say platonic because, despite the fact that she is a very attractive lady, well, that is it, she is a Lady and my upbringing kept me from breaking from being the epitome of a young gentleman. More's the pity. Unfortunately, the "inner me" was a basket of raging hormones, like most guys my age. Other than a chaste kiss and hug, from time to time, I kept my hands and hormones to myself. Well, mostly. My hands DID wander, from time to time.

We moved quite easily from being "study buddies" to good friends. Pepper helped me through the troubled waters of Academia and, I guess I helped her through the troubled waters of being an attractive girl on a college campus. We both dated other people, and she would come to me to discuss her latest "flame". I guess I became the "safe, older brother" she could confide in. (Since I had spent time in the military before starting college, I was a few years her senior, therefore, the "safe, older brother" part). Whether the latest guy was a prince or a bounder, she would discuss all the gory details with me. This became quite frustrating, as I actually wanted to replace all those guys with myself. But Pepper and I remained the best of friends and if she held the same feelings for me, she never allowed them to show.

So we went merrily on our way, sharing the vagaries of campus life, through sophomore, junior and senior years. Our senior year. Yep, that is when it all changed. Pepper fell head over heels in love. Yep, true love. The bug had bitten and she changed, overnight, from the serious, young co-ed about to graduate with a BA in French Lit, to the flighty young woman, in love with being in love and bubbling over with happiness. Peter, the young man who had captured her heart, was a pleasant enough young man, working on his MBA. Well, I should say, mostly pleasant as he, like so many MBA candidates tended to view his field of study and, of course, himself as a future MBA holder, as several cuts above the average Race of Man. He could be a bit stuffy and full of himself, but Pepper quite easily overlooked this, being so fully in love. So, I guess it shouldn't have been very surprising to me when, late in our senior year, she showed up at my apartment, in a dreamy fog, to announce her pending nuptials with the love of her life, Peter.

Just like old times. Well, maybe not so old. Pepper had stopped by to "discuss" her building relationship with Peter. Well, I guess discuss isn't the best description, either, as rather than conversation she was really seeking my approval and blessing. So, seeing how much in love my dearest friend was, I put aside my misgivings about the slightly arrogant young man and tried to be enthusiastic right along with her. A whirlwind romance was quickly followed buy a whirlwind wedding. Two weeks after graduation, Pepper and Peter were wed. I was even included in the wedding party, as one of the goomsmen, so I was right there when my beloved friend exchanged vows with the love of her life. I still had misgivings but, since she was deliriously happy, I kept my thoughts to myself. Peter, still had about eight months before completing his Masters so he moved Pepper into his bachelor digs on the edge of campus. There they set up housekeeping, she doing 99% of the keeping as Peter couldn't be bothered to do anything beyond his preparation of his thesis.

It was about this time, during the summer after our graduation and after her wedding that I received an offer to come to work for an engineering firm in the Pacific Northwest. It was a small company and the money wasn't all that grand, but with the dearth of engineers, at that time, I figured I could make a good place for myself there. So, off to the land of tall, pointy mountains and tall, pointy trees I went. There was a tearful farewell dinner with Peter and Pepper. Pepper was the tearful one, while Peter seemed to be relieved at the moving onward of someone he thought of as a potential rival. Even though he was mostly condescending, when I was around, it seems that I was considered by him to be a threat to his relationship with Pepper. Silly, yes, as she was so totally in love with and devoted to the arrogant twit. Oooops, sorry, my opinion of him just popped out, there. I was very happy for Pepper, since she was so deliriously happy, but Peter tended to rub me the wrong way; I wasn't sure he would make a good mate for my best friend.

Well, I settled in with my new employer, found a comfortable loft and set up my new life, totally out and on my own. The work was pleasant and not too taxing, and there was a great pub just down the block from my new digs. Pepper and I kept up contact by mail, a letter or two every month, hers extolling her new life and husband, mine, not so exciting, sharing the "fun and games" of a young bachelor in new surroundings. We both seemed to be putting together quite mundane, middle class lives, settling easily into our routines and even exchanging infrequent phone calls. It was those calls that became disturbing as Pepper intimated, indirectly, that she had to time her calls according to when Peter would be out of the house. It seems that, even miles and miles away, I was still somewhat of a threat to his peace of mind. But that was the only dark spot on an otherwise satisfying life. Things were going well at the office and in my free time, the Pacific Northwest offered much in the way of entertaining diversions. And, there was my neighborhood pub to warm the soul.

I did miss the comradeship and closeness I had had with Pepper. Since I tend to be a bit of a loner, I don't make friends easily. Though there was an abundance of female companionship at the pub, none really caught my fancy. I must admit, however, that there were some very intense "casual" encounters from time to time. But, unbeknownst to me, things were about to change in a very big way. As Pepper had done before me in University, so I followed in her footsteps. Yep, I fell head over heels in love. Met the Sweetest Young Thing (SYT for short). No, I do not hold any person to be a "thing". I have always had a problem with any guy who would treat a lady as his personal possession (probably a big reason why Peter, rubbed me the wrong way). He had a way of treating Pepper as his personal property. To him, she was an unpaid maid, cook, housekeeper, and hetaera to provide his pleasure. In short, Pepper was a beautiful prize or trophy to cater to his every whim and make him the absolute center of her universe. Pepper frequently recounted his actions confirming those conclusions, while continuing to love him with all her being. Peter had become her raison d'etre and that fact both saddened me and frightened me no little bit. I became frightened for her welfare.

How some ever, my SYT was occupying nearly my every waking thought, distracting me at the office and robbing me of the power of coherent thought and speech when I was in her presence, or even just thinking of her. That was Betty, s'cuse me, Elisabeth Caitlin Mary-Martha Cliften-Smyth. The most delectable, adorable English-Irish lass packaged in a tiny, dark haired, dark eyed bundle with pale, creamy, flawless skin. And yes, I had many opportunities to thoroughly observe every luscious square and round centimeter of that lovely form, and legs that seemed to go on forever. All these in a diminutive, five foot nothing whole (yes, unbelievably long legs in such a compact form). She would seriously try the vows of the most dedicatedly celibate monk. To elaborate in a less effusive manner, she had midnight black, silky hair that hung loosely, flowing smoothly to just below her shoulders, very thick with a bit of a natural wave to it. Her eyes, also showing her pure Celtic genes, were also dark, the pupils merging with the iris with scarcely a hint of where they came together. Her lips were in the shape of a bright red heart and her nose quite small turning up at the tip. High cheekbones and a strong, pointed chin rounded out her face with an overall heart shape to it. Her body was purpose designed (and built) for sin...or pleasure...or both, actually. She was very rightly named Betty for her likeness to Betty Boop, of old cartoon fame, was uncanny. No, there was nothing cartoonish about her, but put her in the classic "little black dress" and spike heels and the impression that she had just stepped out of those sexy cartoons was complete. On that small frame, her full, C-cup breasts stood proudly above a tiny wasp waist. Her thighs, under that "little black dress" were full, firm and sweetly rounded. And from behind, her heart shaped bottom left men panting and drooling as she walked by. Early on in our courtship, I found that under that "little black dress" and, truly, all of her clothing, casual to formal, she delighted in wearing the most feminine and quite often, racy, sexy lingerie; and since I am a great fan of sexy lingerie, this was an added plus to the Girl of my Dreams(tm).

Did I mention that Betty was the most gorgeous Lady I had ever met? Oh, and that I was just as hopelessly in love with her as Pepper was with Peter? I wasn't sure if I had made that clear. She was the brains of our team, her wisdom and insight going a long way to keep this young bachelor out of all sorts of trouble. Surprisingly, and I chalk this up to her wisdom, we had a fairly long courtship. Of course I proposed to her on a regular basis, and mostly she just brushed it off with a giggle and one of her entrancing smiles, even though she and I were always an exclusive pair almost from the moment we met. Somehow, we just hit it off. We were the perfect compliment to each other. But we had been dating and almost living together for nearly a year before she actually agreed to our engagement. Even so, it was another year before Betty and I finally tied the knot. Yes, a fairly long engagement, but well worth the wait. Betty and I had time to really get to know each other, before the wedding, and I believe that was one reason our partnership worked so well for so long. Betty knocked herself out, planning the wedding, and like the perfect groom, when asked my opinion on something or other, I would just smile and agree. After all, the wedding is actually for the bride, rather than the groom. I showed up, on cue, said my lines and waited for my next cue. Betty was in seventh heaven when it all came together. All her planning and stress paid off. Me? I just showed up on time, said "I do" and let it soak in that I had married the most beautiful, sexiest and most perfect woman in the world.

Much to my surprise, Pepper and Peter showed up for the wedding. And Peter tended to be, mostly, pleasant through it all. I guess now that I was officially "taken", I didn't present quite as much of a threat to him. He was still his supercilious, arrogant self but he was almost bearable. Until, that is, on the way to find a bathroom, I happened to turn a corner and almost bumped into Peter in a shadowed alcove. He had one of the bridesmaids cornered, passionately deep-throating her with his tongue while one hand was under her skirt and the other had freed a beautiful breast from her tight bodice, teasing and pinching the swollen nipple eliciting an excited groan from the young lady.

Peter was totally oblivious to my presence but Laura, the bridesmaid, happened to glance in my direction at just that time and gave me a languid wink. Now, you have to know about Laura, I didn't hold that erotic tableau against her. She really is just a lady who loves sex in almost any way, shape or form. The fact that she was getting hit on by one of the male wedding guests is hardly surprising; she probably didn't even know he was married, let alone married to the groom's best friend. Laura just lived for good sex. The fact that she was getting hit on by one of the male wedding guests is hardly surprising. She probably didn't even know he was married, let alone married to the groom's best friend. As a matter of fact, before I met Betty, Laura and I had a short fling and then went our separate ways, no hard feelings, and remained friends. And I was torn, at that moment, because Peter was cheating on my dearest Pepper. That one fact made me want to blow my top and rip his head off, right there. On the other hand, it was a very hot scene, going on in that alcove. By the time all this went through my mind, Peter had exchanged his hand up Laura's skirt for his cock up her dripping cunt. She was leaning back against the wall, her left leg wrapped around his ass pulling him in harder with each of his rapid thrusts and his cock was slamming into her snatch with enough force to elicit a sharp grunt from Laura each time Peter bottomed out.

Though I felt guilty watching Pepper's husband fucking behind her back, the voyeur in me was rooted in place, absorbing the scene presented before me. Laura looked right at me and smiled before her back arched, throwing her head back as she started to climax. I used that moment to exit the area, heading again for the Men's Room, smiling as I thought of the surprise that Peter was in for. He hadn't taken the time to do more than unzip and begin fucking Laura. He hadn't dropped his britches, just unzipped and whipped his cock out, so he would soon experience, much to his dismay, one of Laura's most endearing, sexiest traits. She is a squirter. And not just a little bit, she tends to really soak wherever she is.

So, I had made it to the Men's Room and was about done with my business, when the door slammed open and Peter burst in, turning the air blue with his language and frantically brushing at his sopping wet crotch. Laura had left him a sweet present. "God-damned fucking bitch. I should have slapped the shit out of her for doing this to me," he was saying, adding quite a few extra choice expletives. Then he looked up and noticed me standing there. He tried to cover up saying, "Damned waitress wasn't looking where she was going and dumped a pitcher of ice water all over me." By this time I had crossed the room, deciding in those seconds, to give vent to the anger that had flared earlier. Without missing a beat, my hand snaked out and closed on his throat, pinning him to the wall behind him. His eyes just about bugged out of his face from fear and having his wind cut off all at the same time. He was also trying, futilely, to disengage my hand from around his windpipe, his mouth moving like a fish.

"You fuckin', slimy, pile of stinking offal," were my first words. Though I kept my voice even, it was obvious to Peter that I was barely holding in my anger. "Don't give me that "waitress" shit, I saw you fucking that bridesmaid, fucking another woman behind my best friends' back," I all but hissed at the scared wimp in front of me. As I drew back a fist with the intent of rearranging his facial features, it suddenly became apparent that his fear had turned to terror. If it was possible, his britches became even more sodden as his terror took away his bladder control. He didn't just piss his pants, a bit, in fear, the total contents of his bladder ended up soaking his pants and the floor at his feet.

The incongruousness of the situation, Peter against the wall, his pants soaked with Laura's cum and his urine, standing in a growing puddle at his feet, broke through my anger. I released my strangle hold on his throat and stepped back to keep my feet out of the mess. Unsupported, Peter sank down to the floor heedless of the noisome puddle, massaging his throat, trying to get back his powers of speech. "I am not going to tell Pepper about how you can't keep your small dick in your pants, for now," I told him with better self control, "however, if I EVER even get an inkling that you are cheating on her, again, I am sure my testimony about you fucking Laura at my wedding, will go a long way in a divorce trial toward Pepper getting rid of you and taking you to the cleaners." The irony of my last words made me chuckle adding, "and right now, you really NEED the cleaners."

Returning to the reception, I was amazed to see that much less time had elapsed than I had expected since I had left to find the Men's Room. Slipping into my chair next to my gorgeous bride she turned to me and asked, "You were gone a little longer than I expected, is everything alright?" Putting on my best smile I replied, "Oh yeah, just ran into an interesting scene in the bowels of the building that captured my attention for a moment. It seems one of your bridesmaids was off in a corner getting a little for herself." My bride got that knowing look in her eyes saying, "And knowing you, my love, the voyeur in you kicked in and you just had to watch. One of my bridesmaids, huh? Let me guess, Laura was getting her tight little blonde pussy licked or fucked by one of the guests, am I right?" Reading the look on my face she continued, "Well that little slut, and I mean that as a compliment, really. Leave it to her to find someone at MY wedding for her to seduce." Laura and Betty had been friends for many years and had even exchanged boyfriends a time or two so there was no rancor in Betty's comments.

Betty's openness about sex and her delight in experimentation would lead to some very interesting situations in coming years. But for now, I just knew that all I wanted was to get her out of this stuffy reception hall, out of her clothes, except for, perhaps, her stockings and garter belt, and spend the next few days locked in a Bridal Suite fucking like minks. We were due to stay at the Sheraton in Portland for two nights before our flight to Hawaii. Betty's parents had arranged and paid for our two week honeymoon at the Outrigger Waikiki Hotel right on Waikiki beach. The party was still going on, here, and looked like it would last quite awhile more, even without the Bride and Groom so Betty and I slipped quietly away to finish the few traditions left. After the tossing of the bouquet and the garter, we would head out and the party could go on into the night.

Betty's mother, Claire, marshaled the young ladies in one group and the young men in another. While I knelt down at Betty's feet with one knee up, Betty placed her foot gently on my knee and lifting her skirts above her knee, allowed me to remove her garter, slowly moving it down her white stocking clad leg. One could almost hear the drooling coming from the men in the audience as they watched this display. Her garter removed, Betty let her skirts drop back down, turned around with her back to her ladies and threw her bouquet over her shoulder. And who should be the lucky lady to catch it but Laura. Betty and I, knowing what had transpired in another part of the hall shared a belly laugh at the irony. I looked at Laura and returned the wink she had given me earlier. Now, when I launched the garter toward the gaggle of young "gentlemen" there was almost a fight among them over that little piece of lace. The fellow who finally laid claim to it (thankfully NOT Peter) was seen to hold it to his nose, taking a long, deep sniff of Betty's perfume.