Daughter Of The Bride

My name is Brianna Hollis, and I am a 33 year old political strategist. Being a gay woman has provided my with a lot of opportunities to be shocked and confused, but, about a year ago, I attended the wedding of my business partner, Monica Vasquez, and something happened that I am still confused about.

I had been very busy, working all weekend, and I neglected to keep track of the time. Like an idiot, I missed the ceremony completely, but I pulled up to the reception just in time.

"And now for the first time, may I present to you Mr. and Mrs. Thomas Stone!" The bride, my partner Monica, looked marvelous as usual. It was her second marriage, and, although she was nearly my age, she looked as beautiful as a virgin princess. My surprise came when I saw her daughter, Adelita, standing behind her, looking as beautiful as her mother. I couldn't help but think back to the previous August, when I had first met this amazing girl.

Monica and I were managing a political campaign for a guy running for the state legislature, and it was about midnight. We were working late and trying to thrash out our latest set of propaganda when I heard a familiar voice, A voice that I had heard only over the phone until now.

Intrigued by meeting the woman behind that terribly sexy voice, I looked up, and saw a young girl. She was about 5'1", maybe 100lbs, with deep brown eyes and soft, lustrous black hair falling over her shoulders. She still had on her uniform from school, and the white cotton blouse made her dark skin look almost brown.

"This is my daughter, Adelita." Monica said, "Adelita, this is Brianna."

Monica smiled at our mutual reactions. I heard Adelita's voice

"I thought mom said you were her age?" Adelita said.

"I thought your mother said you were a kid!" I replied. The spontaneous compliments caused us both to smile at each other through an awkward silence. Monica interrupted the moment by saying, "C'mon now, Lita, off to bed. You've school tomorrow." Dutifully, Adelita bounced off to bed, and I must have looked at her a little too hungrily, for Monica sternly ordered me to remove any seductive thoughts from my mind.

"She's only seventeen, Brianna," Monica scolded. I could tell she was joking, but she was serious too. "You remember that next time you look at her, you dirty dyke!" We laughed the tension away, but I made a serious mental note to keep this girl out of my mind.

That was, until late October. Thomas Stone's campaign was in full swing, and lots of people were bustling around, trying to make everything perfect. Being a former physical therapist, I decided to offer backrubs to release some of the tension, and almost everyone took me up on my offer. As I was making my way around the office, I happened into Adelita Vasquez sitting in front of a computer, watching a particularly impressive Emacs macro process a mailing list.

"Hi Brianna!" she said as she looked up at me over her shoulder. "How 'bout a shoulder rub?"

I smiled at her awkwardly as I quickly surveyed the situation. Her mother, Monica, had gone to sleep hours before, and I had been planning on leaving as soon as I had finished with my massages. I figured it was harmless to massage the girl. Besides, no one would even notice it in all of this commotion.

"Sure!" I said.

I began working on her shoulders and was surprised to feel how thick her muscles were. I continued on to her neck and scalp, and was working on her lower back when she asked me, "Do you think I'm pretty?"

I stopped and looked at her. "I think you're dangerously attractive, yes."

Her eyes glittered, and I went back to rubbing her. She said something very softly, and I leaned over her shoulder to ask her to repeat herself. "Are you gay?" she whispered.

I was shocked, but I thought an honest answer would be the best one. "Yes," I said.

"What's it like?" she asked. "I mean...with a girl?"

"Well," I said, "for me, it's wonderful. It's the only thing that has ever felt real to me."

"My friend, Lydia, and I kissed each other the other night," she whispered, "Does that make me gay?"

"No," I answered. "Experimenting when you are young does not make you gay. It just means you're learning who you are."

"I think I want to be gay," she said. It was such a naive thing to say, but the pure innocence of it really turned me on. Suddenly, this conversation was freaking me out.

"Look," I said, "Your mother will kill me if she even knew we were having this conversation."

"Why?" she asked.

"She thinks I want to sleep with you," I blurted. I knew it was a mistake the second it came out.

"Do you want to sleep with me?" Adelita asked innocently.

"It doesn't matter," I said. "I mean...it's just that we're so different in age...look...I gotta go."

As I was scrambling away I heard her say, "Did I do something wrong?"

I didn't answer her. I just bolted for my car. "She's only seventeen, Brianna!" I said to myself as I scampered down the steps, "She doesn't even know if she's gay...besides, what if her mother found out!" As I reached my car, I realized my body was shaking and I was far more aroused than I had any legal right to be.

A few months later, after the pressure of getting Thomas Stone elected was over, Monica asked me to help chaperone her daughter's birthday party. Adelita's mother was going to be out of town so I reluctantly accepted the responsibility of making sure that their house was not destroyed.

The party went off without a hitch. At first I was worried about Adelita being alone on her eighteenth birthday, but she was surrounded by her friends and she didn't seem to be upset at all. The young men and women danced and played charades and ate close to twenty pizzas. They were so well behaved that there was really no reason for me to be there.

After the last guest had left, I told Adelita that I had some paperwork I wanted to pick up at my office.

"Oh, can I go with you?" she asked.

"What for?" I asked.

"Uh..I need to get a copy of my mom's word processing program for school Monday," she answered.

"Okay," I said, and we headed for my car. After the election I had received a new office, so when we arrived I gave her the tour, showing her all the new machines and all. As she was looking at a new modem, I pulled my files out of the cabinet. As I bent over to close the drawer, Adelita called my name. When I whirled around, the young woman leaped forward and kissed me, wrapping her arms around me. Her hands clasped behind my neck, and her warm body pressed into mine.

Giving in to desire, I held her and kissed her back for a minute or two, enjoying every forbidden moment. I shoved my tongue into her mouth and cupped my hands on her firm ass. Suddenly, I realized what I was doing and stopped myself. My heart racing, I extricated myself from her grasp and dragged her out the door, trying desperately to forget about things like coffee lounge couches and conference room tables.

"We can't do this," I said.

"Why not?" she said, "I'm legal now, right?"

"It's not just a matter of law," I said, "You're still too young for me!"

"I'm sorry," she said.

"It's okay Lita," I said, "We just can't do this. What if your mother found out?"

The whole ride home, with the feel of her warm hand resting high on my thigh burning through my tweed skirt, I swear I thought I was going to bust a blood vessel. When we got back to her place, she apologized again, and, just as I was getting out of the car to walk her to the door, I saw her mother, Monica, standing in the doorway silhouetted in the light, looking pissed as all hell.

"Tell your mom I said hi," I whispered.

She squeezed my hand on her way out of the car. As I drove home, I tried to put her out of my mind. Eighteen! Dear God, when she's twenty, she'll be fatal.

So early that summer, Monica announced her engagement to Senator Stone, and I congratulated her. So I was working late the weekend of the wedding, and I missed the damn ceremony. I got to the reception just in the nick of time to see the bride being upstaged by her bride's-maid daughter. Soft deep blue crushed velvet caressed Adelita's tanned, firm body, and her gorgeous hair was trapped in a bun, with a teasing bang down the side of her face.

We smiled and greeted each other as if there wasn't a thing between us, but the tell tale flush and her warm smile gave her away.

As usual at weddings, garters and bouquets were thrown. I was mesmerized by Adelita's firm breasts bouncing as she caught the bouquet. As a joke, I stood up with the men to catch her mother's garter. Everyone laughed, and it didn't bother me because I was making fun of myself. I didn't even think about what was going to happen next as I reached out to catch the flying undergarment. Monica shook her head at me, obviously thinking I had planned the whole thing, and I hung my head sheepishly as all of the guys pushed me towards the dance floor.

Adelita sat on the chair set in the center of the dance floor, obviously enjoying the attention. She crossed her legs, and the bawdy music began. Down on one knee, I slid the garter up her leg and over her knee. Her eyes dared me to go further, six inches higher, but I stopped, wondering how many people had sensed my state of arousal. The feel of her warm smooth pure skin and the dress' satin lining was more than I really wanted to deal with while on display in the center of a dance floor, so I went to the bar for a glass of champagne.

After two more, I was ready to dance. I bounced out on to the dance floor, and there she was again, dancing like no one should be allowed to dance!

After the garter ceremony, Adelita had changed into a blue-and-white checked sleeveless flannel shirt and a pair of tight jeans cutoffs. She almost looked butch! I should have guessed that as soon as a slow song came along, she was going to find her way into my arms. Light as a feather, we glided around the dance floor, her warm hands resting on my neck and mine on her back. Surprising even myself, I let loose a short purr, and she gleamed a smile fit to weaken my knees. I looked into her eyes for some sign, and all there was to see was honest lust. Ah, to be eighteen!

After the song ended, she and I went to bar for a drink of ice water. Sweat streamed down our faces, and her skin was flushed, as mine must have been. Without saying a word, we wandered up to her hotel room. We sat on her bed and talked sipping our icewater, and listening to the party downstairs.

She turned around, and said, "It's hot up here, isn't it?"

My eyes were distracted by a blue-and-white checked garment flying across the room. Reddening, I abruptly about-faced, and listened to her rustling clothes. Presuming she was changing, I called out, "Are you done?"

"Not quite yet. Close your eyes and turn around", that impish voice commanded.

I performed as instructed, and her soft hands grasped mine, and placed them on her velvety bare hips.

"I've wanted this for a long time, and I'm not taking no for an answer" was all I heard, before she began disrobing me in a fast and efficient manner. Her tits bounced as she tore off my blouse, and I watched her stomach muscles ripple as she bent to remove my skirt.

We leapt under her quilt, handmade by her mother who would probably kill us both for our unorthodox method of celebrating her wedding, and held each other. The satiny feel of her skin was warm, and she wanted to be cuddled like two spoons. I acquiesced and curled up with her, only to find she had worked her hand around and was lazily teasing my spine.

My lacey panties scratched against her lower back, and she giggled. I rolled her around and kissed her, hoping she would take the lead, and she didn't disappoint me. Pushing me on my back, she let her fingers tease their way down my body slowly while her other hand guided mine to all sorts of mysterious places on her own body.

When I finally cupped her mound, I could feel her readiness in the warm pulsing of her genitals and the freely-flowing liquid in my palm. I gently lifted her hips and bent down, placing my mouth on her. She arched herself up to me, terribly slowly, until I my tongue was inside her. Easily the tightest woman I'd ever made love to, Adelita enjoyed every bit of it, rocking and rolling her hips back and forth to her own rhythm.

My hands moved around, and my thumbs took turns teasing her clit as she shuddered her way through first one explosive orgasm, and then another, before I began to lose control. I thrust my fingers harder and deeper into her, and she started to make noise.

Swiftly I pulled her face down to mine and clamped my lips down on hers. The dual contact of dueling tongues and thrusting pelvises was amazing. Her third orgasm was the last straw, and I came too as her clit rubbed swiftly against mine.

It was nearing dusk when she and I awoke. The party was winding down. I shook her fully awake, and began to get dressed.

"Will we ever do this again?" she asked as I slid my skirt on.

"I don't think so," I said empathetically.

"I know," she smiled.

"Be sure to give your mother my best," I said as I was walking out of the room.

"I'll keep your best to myself!" Was the last things I remembered hearing as I walked out the door.

"Eighteen..." I sighed to myself. "Eighteen!"