I flew down to Texas to attend the wedding of Amy, one of my co-workers who used to sing in a women's choir with me. It was held in a little town called Keefer's Bridge, about 200 miles west of Corpus Christi. The invite list was quite short – just family and close friends, about 30 people in total. The wedding took place in a little white clapboard Baptist church just off the main street, and then we had the reception at a community hall with a band that played 50's crooner music and old rock and roll. There was also a lot of wine and a catered buffet.
I danced with everybody, including Amy's cousin Sharon, who looks just like her, except that she wears glasses, is a little bit blonder and taller, and is probably about 10 years older, which would put her in her mid-40's. She works in human resources for an insurance company in Bellingham.
Anyway, close family were invited to overnight at Amy's parents' house. Everyone else, including the bride and groom, went to this lovely old three-floor inn with hardwood floors and crystal chandeliers on the edge of town. Amy's mother was so apologetic because she had mixed up the room reservations and Sharon and I had to share a queen-sized bed. "I could have sworn they said the Wexford Suite had two doubles," she told us. "I would bring over a futon from our place, but Amy's sister is using it. Are you sure you girls will be all right?"
I told her it would be just fine and Sharon agreed. We'd actually met at Sharon's wedding in Seattle a couple of years earlier. "I hope you don't mind I might have to get up and pee in the night," Sharon said, putting her hand on my arm. "I had a lot of Merlot at the reception." I just laughed and told her I was looking forward to having her as my roomie.
When we got back to the inn, it was almost one am. Our bags were waiting for us in the room, which had Norman Rockwell prints on the wall and fresh tulips in a green vase. I opened my bag, found my nightclothes, and started changing right in front of Sharon, who was sitting on the edge of the bed. I'm not shy at all – I definitely enjoy taking off my clothes while another woman is watching me.
"Love that negligee, Frederika," Sharon said. "Where did you pick it up?" I told her it was from my last trip to Italy. She came over and touched the fabric. "God, so silky – I haven't bought anything like this since Marvin and I split up. Have you been dating a lot since the divorce? You must be getting a lot of attention from the guys when you dress up like this." "Oh, I've been dating a lot," I said. "But not so much attention from the guys."
"Really? I don't get it," Sharon said, pulling off her dress and exposing her creamy white breasts, enclosed in a peach-colored bra. She took off her bra and panties, and as she turned toward her suitcase, I caught a nice glimpse of her cunt. Really thick, plump lips, and ragged, dark-pink inner labia that protruded visibly. For a second, I thought she was shaved, which I didn't like, but I caught a glimpse of the light off her pubic hair, and just realized it was light blonde and wispy, and she'd done a little bit of trimming. Very, very nice. Sharon pulled on her knee-length pink cotton nightdress and we clambered into bed together.
"I'm sorry – what were you saying before?" I said. My leg brushed against Sharon's smooth calf. "Ooh, you're chilly!"
"Oh geez, I'm sorry – I think it's the hardwood floors."
