The Wedding

You looked beautiful in a new dress that flattered your curvy figure -- black, short sleeves, knee length and a bit flared at the bottom. A scoop neck was classy, but revealing. Your bronze-brown hair was hanging below your shoulders.

I had trimmed my beard, shaved my head and was wearing a new suit and tie you picked out after I lost 15 pounds -- not bad for a couple of 40 somethings with three kids we said to one another.

We were heading to the wedding of a colleague’s kid. We wouldn’t know many people there, but you wanted to be there to support him — and we saw it as a great excuse for a weekend away from the kids.

The wedding was being held at a small Northern Wisconsin resort. Just rustic enough to feel like nowhere, but civilized enough to have clean rooms with big king-sized beds.

The wedding went as planned and after the dinner, the reception got into full swing.

The outdoor setting under a huge white tent was picturesque. The temperatures were in the 70s with blissfully low humidity. The tent was lit with white string lights and candles at each table. Outside, the surrounding area looked like a forest clearing - pine trees encircled the lawn on three sides, the resort off to the north. Stars had started to emerge.

Two large, fancy restroom trailers - mens and womens - were off to one side of the tent, making up for the lack of permanent facilities.

We danced and drank because we don’t have many opportunities like this to cut loose. Not knowing many people also made us both a little less inhibited.

I was enjoying watching others checking you out — attractive, happy and care free. Seeing others eye you turned me on. It also made me feel like the luckiest man on earth — you are still beautiful after more than 25 years together.

Between songs we sat down to take a break at one of the tables around the dance floor. I went to get you a drink. Across the table a woman sat alone and yelled to you: “Looks like you’re having fun!”

You could barely make out what she said, but yelled back. "Thanks. Don’t know many people here, so we might as well dance.”

She couldn’t hear you well, either, so she got up and moved over to my seat. She wore a dark red dress with a low cut back and was about 10 years younger than you. A brunette with blonde highlights, she wore bright red lipstick and had deep green eyes.

“Hey, I’m Kelly.”

“I’m Carrie,” you said. “That was my husband, Ed, who just went to get drinks.”

The conversation proceeded with her asking you questions about how long we’d been married, whether we had kids and where we were staying for the night.

As you spoke your eyes occasionally drifted to look for me, and sometimes down at her dress, which accentuated her slender figure in a sexy, but elegant way.

“What about you?” you asked once she got through learning the basics about you. “How do you know the newlyweds?”

“Well, my ex-girlfriend worked with the bride and we became close,” she said. “When we broke up, I stayed close with them — and got invited to the wedding even though my ex didn’t.”

“Did you bring a date?” you asked.

“I had one lined up, but she bailed at the last minute. No big deal,” she said, very obviously looking at your cleavage. “You want to dance?” she asked as a new song came on.

“Sure,” you said, just as I was walking back to the table with two fresh drinks. She grabbed your hand and led you to the floor.

“Have fun,” I said, loving the sight of you smiling and cutting loose.

“This is Kelly,” you said, as she led you to the floor.

“Can I get you a drink, too?” I asked your new friend.

“Sure,” she said, grabbing one of the drinks from my hand with her one free hand.

I shrugged and put your drink on the table and said, “I’ll just go get myself another.”

The two of you were having a blast on the floor as I walked away, back toward the longish bar line.

After the first song, the lights went down a little lower, but the music stayed fast paced. That’s when Kelly put her hands on your hips from behind you as you danced together. It sent a small quake through you. It tickled, but it also made you tremble with excitement, just a bit. This was a different feeling.

She kept her hands on you for about 10 seconds as you continued to dance, pretending it was no big deal.

Then, she grabbed you hand and spun you around. “Damn, you look great in that dress,” she said, and she gave you a look up and down that you knew was more than just a mere compliment. You instantly blushed, but kept dancing, thanking her for saying so..

“Yours is so elegant,” you continued, trying your best to play it cool.

I returned with my new drink and sat down, watching you having a great time with this new friend. “Come dance,” you said, motioning to me.

“Just a minute, let me enjoy the drink.”

In truth, I was enjoying watching you dance. I also enjoyed watching Kelly look at you and touch you. It was clear she, too, was cutting loose for the night.

After a few more songs you both returned to the table to take a sip from your drinks and sit down.

“Amy is a great dancer,” she said.

“She loves to dance, but it’s pretty rare that we out to do much dancing these days,” I said.

You excused yourself to use the ladies room.

“So, where’s your date?” I asked Kelly, shouting over the music, as you walked away.

“She bailed on me, last minute, so I’m solo. You don’t mind if I adopt Carrie as my date for tonight, do you?” she had mischief in her eyes, but also a slight buzz. She is joking around, I thought, as I tried to be sure I heard right when she said “she” in referring to her date.

“Not at all. Let’s share,” I deadpanned.

“OK,” she said, abruptly getting up. “I need to powder my nose. Be right back.”

I watched her slender figure walk away, noticing for the first time how low cut the back of the dress was. She’s definitely not wearing a bra, I thought. Stop being a perv, I thought.

You were just finishing up in the fancy restroom trailer. The women’s one had a big make-up mirror above the sink and a single stall in it. It looked like a small Hollywood dressing room.

As you opened the door, Kelly was waiting outside. “Hey, wait for me, OK?” she said.

“Sure,” you said, a bit confused, as she grabbed your hand and guided you back inside.

“Awkward,” you thought, as she closed the door and locked it behind you. She went into the stall and gave you a mischievous smile as she closed it. She peed, came out, washed her hands and dried them, then took some makeup out of her purse to touch up.

“Try this on,” she said, handing you her lipstick.

Again, weird, you thought, but you obliged. It was a lot brighter than you would normally wear, you thought as you looked at yourself in the mirror. She was staring at you in the mirror, too.

She put her hand on your face, again, sending a small shock through you.

“Looks amazing on you,” she said, slowly moving her hand to the back of your head. “But maybe a little thick.”

It happened so quickly. She turned your head. Her lips were on yours. Her hand was caressing the back of your neck.

Her tongue slipped into your mouth.

You were frozen for about 3 seconds until she stopped. She looked at you and said, “Is this OK?”

“My husband is outside…” you stammered. You were nervous, excited -- slightly embarrassed.

“Well, he did tell me he would share his date tonight,” she said, pulling you back in for a kiss that this time you didn’t resist returning. You felt how soft her lips were, smelled the makeup on her face and tasted the sweetness in her mouth, her delicate tongue dancing with yours.

She moved to touch your breast with her left hand and your butt with her other. You hadn’t kissed another person this way for more than 20 years, much less had someone else's hands all over you.

You were on fire, but nervous to the point of shivering.

Your hands wrapped around the back of her dress, where you touched her bare skin, which was soft, but tightened with goosebumps.

You had a decision to make as she began unzipping the back of your dress.

You had fantasized about this a thousand times — but always pictured it as someone else.

“Two random girls,” you always told me. I had told you to put yourself in the fantasy, the same way I always pictured you in mine. You couldn’t do that, you said.

I had always told you: “If you ever have the opportunity, seize the moment. Just tell me about it. You only live once and I know you love me.” I meant it, but doubted you'd ever find yourself in such a situation.

“OK?” she whispered, nibbling your ear as the zipper met its end.

“Ya,” you melted. She turned you so you were pushed against the sink counter as your dress and bra came down. You hadn’t even realized she had unfastened your bra.

She began kissing your collar bone, then your chest, your hands rubbing her hair and looking down at her.

“Is this really happening?” you thought to yourself. Your dress had dropped to the floor.

She slipped her hand between your legs, pushing your panties aside and plunging two fingers into you with no resistance.

She removed her fingers and placed them in her mouth, slowly licking them as her other hand gently rubbed one of your nipples.

She kissed you again as she put her hand back down between your legs and began rubbing you. She was instinctive about it. She knew where and how to touch you in a way you hadn't experienced before.

Within 60 seconds you were having a shuddering orgasm unlike any you’d ever felt. You were in another world.

She slowed down and tenderly kissed you, easing her fingers in and out of you gently as you came back out of a haze.

“I’ll let you finish up in here,” she smiled, acting nonchalant. “Maybe you’ll return the favor later?”

You were too stunned — too spent — to say anything.

She kissed your nose, opened the door and ducked out. You quickly locked it behind her, looking at yourself in the mirror in disbelief.

Kelly came back to the table where I was sitting, looking a little disheveled, but grinning.

“You beat Carrie back,” I said.

“Oh, I think she’s right behind me,” Kelly replied. “By the way, I like your beard,” she said, putting her hand up on my chin and giving it a tug. “Very handsome.”

Awkward, I thought. And then, though her hand was only there for a second, I recognized a familiar scent.

As you walked back to the table, wearing noticeably brighter red lipstick, Kelly turned around, smiling. “There she is! What took you so long?”

You looked at me with a timid smile, raising your eyebrows. “Those are some pretty nice restrooms,” was all you could think to say at that moment. It was hours later -- after the second chapter of our memorable evening -- when you filled me in on all these details.