The wedding ceremony started at 11 but Elizabeth need time to prepare so there was no time for fooling around in the morning. We had breakfast in our room and then got ready. Elizabeth, being a woman, took quite a long time over this. I have mentioned that my own dress preference was scruffy through to casual. Elizabeth never objected to this but I'm sure that it was one of the reasons that Vanessa took an instant dislike to me. Women of her generation like men to be well groomed. However when the occasion called for it I could and did dress well. I had a charcoal grey suit in a modern cut and good condition. I put on a crisp white cotton shirt with double cuffs and quality gold cuff-links all off set with a red silk tie and black leather polished shoes. I never considered myself as really good looking – I'd always relied on my sense of humour to make myself attractive to women – but I was young, slim and had a mop of reddish brown curly hair. Today I didn't look bad or at least I looked as good as I was ever going to get. Elizabeth took forever to get dressed but it was still before 10 o'clock so we had a little time.
Finally she was ready (except for her big wide-brimmed hat that English women always wear at weddings). She wore a mauve dress with white swirls in the pattern. The sleeves were loose and neither long nor short but came down to her forearms. The hem of the skirt came came down to the middle of her calves and swished teasingly as I liked it to do. Her stockings were, I thought at first, light grey but then seemed also to have a faintly mauve tint. Her shoes were white.. The dress plunged modestly at the front to show off her ample bosom that sagged a little less than normal (I guessed she was well strapped up underneath) and her figure was accentuated by a broad white belt across her middle. Her hair was coiffed but not too artificially so. She had white pearls around her neck and also wore expensive looking earrings with amethysts and diamonds in them (I remembered that I had given her them as a Christmas present and yes they were expensive). Her lipstick was scarlet red and I was glad she hadn't tried to match that with her dress. Red lipstick is one of my turns-ons.
She looked lovely and elegant, almost beautiful. I caught a glimpse of the real beauty she must have been forty, thirty or even twenty years ago. She looked at least ten years younger than her sixty-four years. As I gazed at her so she looked at me. She'd never seen me dressed up smart and I could tell she was impressed.
"My god, you're lovely!" I exclaimed.
"Oh, oh, you're beautiful!" she breathed in a low voice. Beautiful?! I did not think that I even qualified as handsome but as they say beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
We stood transfixed and quite moved by each other's loveliness. We were about two feet apart and I raised both her hands in mine and kissed them. Unconsciously we started to touch each other very gently, tracing our fingers over each others bodies. I touched her arms: she touched my chest. I touched her hips: she caressed my face. I very lightly ran my fingers over her bosom. She took my hands, kissed them and then returned them to where she had found them. I drew her to me to be closer and we kissed very gently and slowly and then more deeply and passionately. I was oblivious to anything else and it felt as if time had stopped still.
As I embraced her I realised that she was quite firm underneath and had on a corset (I found out later that the correct term is corselet) on to hold her tummy and all her other floppy bits in. This meant that the only way to get in was to go down and then up. I manoeuvred her on to the bed.
"We'll be late," she murmured.
"Time enough," I said and, "Wedding be damned!" to myself. Nothing but nothing was going to stop me now.
As we lay on the bed I rummaged under her dress past all the petticoats and slips or whatever it was that she had on. I felt her stockings and thighs and then the bottom part of the corselet and then her silk panties. I had to look and I raised the hem of her dress right up so that she was completely revealed. It was a fantastic sight and I could not resist diving in and kissing them all in turn. First her stocking and I ran my tongue from knee to stocking-top to bare thigh and pressed my face into her pure white clad crotch. I used my fingers to massage and caress her bush and the cleft inside I tried to draw her panties off but it was too fiddly for me and she did it herself and rolled up or otherwise moved the corselet. I was exposed to her old naked pussy thatched with black and grey hair. I put my head back where it so obviously belonged and lapped and lapped away with my tongue. Raising my head I inserted one then two fingers and then my thumb spreading her pussy juices all over her clit as I brought her to orgasm. Hurriedly I kicked off my own shoes, dropped my pants and briefs without taking them off and lay on top of her and penetrated her. It did not take me long to erupt inside her.
We lay there for a while and then started up as we realised the time. It was 10.45! All the guests would be seated and awaiting the entrance of the bride. We needed to clean ourselves up and Elizabeth needed to reapply her make-up as her lipstick was all smudged. It did not take me too long but it was 11 o'clock as we left our room and hurried to where they were having the wedding. Fortunately the bride was late (as they always are) but we were still the last guests in. We sat next to Vanessa who had kept our seats free. She looked at us both slightly disapprovingly and whispered something to Elizabeth who was flustered anyway and now looked more so. She muttered something back. They both tittered away and Vanessa cast me a knowing and for once not hostile look.
Little to tell about the wedding itself. The photographs took forever to take as they always do. We finally sat down to eat at 2 o'clock and I was hungry, thirsty and bored. The meal was very good however and there was lots of champagne and wine on offer. I noticed that Elizabeth, who normally did not drink very much at all, was getting well stuck into the champagne. We shared our table with five other people including Vanessa who unfortunately sat opposite me. She was dressed in a pale green outfit with a white blouse and of course a green and white hat to match. She was not as well turned out as Elizabeth but looked OK and actually better than most of the other women there regardless of age (the bride was a skinny insipid blonde with a weak chin and a posh voice and I never gave her a second glance). My first impressions of Vanessa were reinforced: firstly if she smiled more she would be quite handsome for her age - she was late fifties but looked about five years younger; secondly she had a fantastic set of knockers. Her blouse had no collar and opened at the front to reveal her magnificent cleavage. There was that little crows foot wrinkle at the top that busty old women often have. I found it a real turn on and found my eyes being drawn there unwillingly.
The other people on our table - two couples and an old uncle didn't know any of us. This table was obviously the ragbag of distant relatives and our table was right at the back of the room. Conversation was therefore a bit stilted at first but as the wine flowed our conversation got a bit jollier. My inhibitions go after very little drink and I loosened them all up with my jokes, banter and slightly ribald conversation. The old uncle and I hit it off in particular and we were a good double act making the whole table laugh and indeed people at the other tables looked at us in slight envy because we were obviously having such a good time. Vanessa for once didn't cramp my style and laughed along with the rest of them. It was quite warm in the room and she had removed her jacket. So when she laughed I had a great view of her tits wobbling away in mirth. The little wrinkle at the top of her cleavage winked at me I swear. Elizabeth would normally have restrained me because other than in our intimate moments she was quite prim and proper but she was on at least her third glass of champagne and was half tipsy and so giggled away with rest of them.
By the end of the meal we were all in a very good mood, relaxed and merry but not too drunk except perhaps Elizabeth, who had now had four glasses of the really quite good champagne (Krug, I think). Then the speeches started and they were all quite dull but of course there was a toast at the end of each one. After the speeches the bride and groom went off for more photographs and the guests went off and did their own thing until the evening do which started at 7. Some just stayed chatting at their tables until gently chased away by the hotel staff. Others went for more drinks at the various bars that seemed to be dotted about the hotel. Some guests went outside to enjoy the summer sunshine and go for a stroll in the beautiful grounds of the hotel. I suggested to Elizabeth that we did just that as I did not think she should have any more to drink. Too late - the silly cow was pissed as a fart! She'd had seven glasses of champagne which is about three quarters of a bottle and not being used to drink anyway it had gone straight to her head. I tried to get her to walk it off but she was staggering on her feet and so with Vanessa's help I took her back to our room and put her to bed.
I was quite annoyed. Just when I was starting to enjoy the do she'd gone and spoiled it! I stayed with her but she soon fell asleep into a drunken stupor. I made sure that she was lying on her side so that she didn't choke if she threw up. It was late afternoon. I had nothing to do. Being the summer there was no football to watch on TV and none of the films on appealed to me so I was bored silly. I remembered that I had a book in my car so I went down to retrieve it. I stopped and chatted to some of the guests. The older women in particular were intrigued and quite nosey I thought.
"Oh so you're Elizabeth's young beau!" one of them exclaimed tactlessly but good-humouredly and proceeded to ask me some impertinent questions. I fended them off with innocent and inane answers but I was quite relieved when Vanessa came up and rescued me. She wanted me to stop and chat but I protested that I needed to go back an look after Elizabeth.
"She'll be all right," she said a little callously. "She just needs to sleep it off," and putting her arm in mine she led me back to the bar bought me a drink and then chatted to me much more attentively than she'd ever done before. I wondered if she were drunk too but she did not seem so nor was she knocking the booze back as Elizabeth had done. I did pop back to check on Elizabeth from time to time. Whenever I returned I tried to mingle with the other guests although I only really knew the ones who had been on our table. Vanessa always managed to find me without being too obvious about it. The evening meal was a buffet, not as nice as lunch but it stopped me getting too drunk. Soon after that the disco started. This was something I'd dreaded. I hate dancing with a passion and I especially hate the shite music they play at wedding discos. I wondered why, when they had gone to all that expense for everything else, they had not hired a decent band. Lack of taste and imagination I supposed.
"I suppose you're a boring old fart who doesn't like dancing," said Vanessa to me.
"Not at all!" I lied, "I love a good bop. Will you join me?"
As I led her on to the floor I noticed that all the men had buggered off to the bar and there were only young girls and old ladies (and me!) dancing. I felt trapped by the situation but the only alternative was to walk out and I wanted to see where this little adventure with a new and nice Vanessa would lead to. Not only do I not like dancing but I don't think I'm very good at it either (well that's what other girlfriends have told me). However that night I was good enough and soon quite a few of the other old biddies were dancing with us too and I was quite the centre of attention. I was a little self conscious and uncomfortable with this and tried to leave after each number only to be summoned back by them especially Vanessa.
Eventually there was a special number for the bride and groom so we all vacated the floor and watched them do their stuff. The second number was quite slow and Vanessa got me up and danced quite closely with me her big breasts rubbing against my chest. As she pulled me closer her upper thighs pressed against my stiffening cock. She knew exactly what she was doing. When the lights went lower for an even slower smoochier number she pulled me closer still and her hand dropped to my lower back and she surreptitiously fondled my bum. Perhaps I should have made my excuses there and then and beat a retreat but as I said before I am weak-willed and led by my cock.
I did cool things down by going back and checking Elizabeth who was still snoring. I got Vanessa a drink and we went outside into the warm evening. I'd had enough of dancing and it was too warm in the main room. We chatted a while on the terrace, not hidden but away from the rest of the guests. A pretty young woman ran by laughing followed by one of her companions. They were two of the bridesmaids.
