None of the stories in my series are stand-alone stories, they lead on from one to the other, and may not make sense unless you start at part one, (the beginning) and work through to the end.
After Miranda, my beautiful and well fucked hotel receptionist left to return to her afternoon shift, I showered and dressed casually. It was far too early to dress in my formal wear for the wedding, and I'd worked up an appetite. I'd had quite a light breakfast, just some cereal, and now after our strenuous but very pleasant lunchtime interlude I was feeling the pangs of hunger. I thought eating out Miranda's pussy, fabulous as it was, probably didn't count high on the calorie ratings as adequate sustenance. I was hungry for something more substantial than pussy, so I thought I'd check out the hotel bar, or have a walk down the street to see if I could find a fast food joint, a café, or something suitable.
Luckily for me the hotel bar offered a nice range of bar meals, and I decided on a pasta dish with side salad as a sop to a healthy lifestyle. I was going to need those carbohydrates to keep up my strength until the evening wedding feast.
Wedding customs are different all over the world, but here in Scotland most formal weddings are held mid-afternoon, typically 2.30pm or a little later at 3.00pm. By the time the ceremony is over, the photos taken and a little socialising done, it's time for the wedding meal, which is usually three courses. A starter, main course, and dessert, followed by the dreaded wedding speeches. After that the venues is cleared, and a little more socialising before the wedding dance begins, with either a live band or disco. The bride and groom start with the 'first dance,' and after that the evening proceeds until the end.
However, sitting at the bar, I was a long way from any of that, it was just after 1.15pm and a waitress had brought me my food. She was tall, good looking, and just my type, maybe a bit older than my usual women friends, but still very, very attractive. I noticed that she had succumbed to my pheromones very quickly when she took my order at the bar, then showed me to my table, where I sat while my order was being prepared. She stood and spoke to me, looking reluctant to leave until she was called away to serve another customer.
I looked around me at the other people in the bar while I waited, and in the next booth there was a couple, older, maybe forties or early fifties, but the wife looked lovely. Her husband was sitting with his back to me, but she continually looked over his shoulder at me and gave me a lovely smile. I gave her what I thought was a lovely smile in return. The smile never left her face except when she was talking to him, but that didn't happen too often.
She got up, took her handbag and walked past me, smiling down at me as she passed. I thought she was going to speak, but she kept going. Her pussy smelled of wetness and arousal. She was about five foot four, medium height, with a nice figure. She obviously kept herself fit and had a well-proportioned figure to prove it. She had a cloud of dark wavy hair and a very pretty face. She looked hot and I wondered if she'd be a good lover, but I dismissed that thought easily enough, there would be plenty of hot younger women here, closer to my own age. There would be lots of opportunities later. The bride and groom's friends, relations, etc, and of course, the lovely Diana. I was here to accompany Diana, and make her day, anything else would be a bonus, or would join the growing file of phone numbers in my pockets given by women who had offered themselves to me.
I had worked out a method to help me decide on who I wanted to meet later. If I wrote down her phone number, or was passed a note from the woman herself, and folded the note in four, it meant, yes/yes, if I folded it in two it meant, yes/maybe, and if I didn't fold it at all, it meant, no! Heartless, very shallow you may think, but it was getting out of control, and I couldn't keep pace with the offers I was getting. Not that I was complaining, but I liked to give, 'value,' and make any seduction something special. It wasn't always possible.
I sometimes thought I was like that old Johnny Winters song which went, 'I've got women in California, and in New York and between, It's a full time occupation trying to keep my business clean.' I'd always found that line amusing, but now I knew from experience exactly what it meant. It had nothing to do with disease or hygiene, it was trying to juggle all the women, meeting their expectations, and keeping them happy.
While I was deliberating on how terrible my life was, (haha) the older lady walked past me again in the opposite direction, no doubt going back to rejoin her husband. She hesitated and stepped closer to my table. I looked up at her and smile, she gave me a lovely smile in return.
'Are you one of the wedding guests by any chance she asked?' and when I confirmed I was she held out her hand and I shook it with mine, a pretty standard greeting with strangers, but I held onto hers, just for sheer wickedness to see what she would do. She didn't seem to notice, her pussy was too wet, I could smell it more strongly now.
'I'm Patricia' she announced, and when I looked blankly at her, she added, 'The mother of the bride.' I knew right there and then I was going to fuck her. She was not only very attractive, but going to a wedding and fucking the mother of the bride was irresistible. It tickled my fancy in some perverted sort of way, and unless something even more appealing came along, something like the current miss world, I was going to tickle
her
fancy as well.
She insisted I come and meet her husband too, and so I did, chatting away to him as Patricia sat down at their table again. Thankfully, my lunch arrived, brought to me by my hot waitress, and I went back to my own table to eat it, and very nice it was too. I sat back and sipped the coffee my waitress had brought when I finished, and then I saw her approach again. She was definitely looking for something, and the something she wanted was hard, between my legs, all ready to slip between hers. It would have to be a quicky, but that was okay, I had the time, a window of opportunity if she was available.
'Was that all right for you sir,' she asked, and I assured her that I had enjoyed it. 'Is there anything else I can get for your sir? she asked, looking at me very boldly, and we both knew she meant something more than food or a drink. I looked at her, she smiled, I smiled.
'Well, Jackie,' I said as I looked at the name tag pinned above her left tit, 'It depends on what's on the menu, and how much time you have,' I flirted. She never stopped smiling for a second. 'I have to be leaving very soon,' I added, 'do you have any suggestions for something quick? Or somewhere we could go?' She actually blushed, but she was excited, and looked at her watch.
'The lunches stopped being served a few minutes ago,' she said. 'I'll just take your dishes back to the kitchen and then I'm free, wait here, I'll be back,' she promised. True to her word, she was back within two minutes.
