Revenge of the Bridesmaids (8 page)

I took Little Cliffy into my mouth.  I wanted to feel him grow hard.  I wanted to know it was me who excited him, and not the soft curves of Cassie’s leg.  My lips slid wetly along him, and my tongue played with his cleft.  Little Cliffy swelled in appreciation.  He didn’t fit correctly in my mouth, but what mouth custom-fit a cock?  I pressed his hot length with my tongue and sucked in a bit, caving my cheeks.  I wanted him to feel my mouth all around him, surrounding him, bringing him pleasure.  I gazed up at Cliff, who now sported a dopey smile.  I wanted to smile too, but my mouth was busy.  Still, I felt pretty fine—capital F fine.  Now there was a surprise.

Cliff liked it!  He really, really liked it!  I sucked gently and eased my head up and down.  Little Cliffy felt good in my mouth.  And I felt like such a dirty little slut—it was great!

I felt so powerful, sucking Cliff’s cock.  I was in complete control of his pleasure, and he looked eternally grateful for my gift.  It was turning me on.  I was a goddess.  When I’d roofied the girls, I’d taken a pass on the reciprocal pleasure that sex brought.  The girls were listless underneath me.  There was no communion between us.  Cliff was the opposite of listless.  He was totally alive in my mouth.  And he looked at me adoringly.  This was a result I hadn’t even contemplated.  It never occurred to me that I could derive pleasure from bringing someone else pleasure.  This wasn’t such a horrible punishment.  Suddenly, I realized I could blow all the wedding guests…I mean the groomsmen…easily.  The relief I felt in seeing an easy, somewhat enjoyable way out of my predicament translated into increased oral energy on my part, which led to increased pleasure on Cliff’s part.

“Ummmmm,” I moaned as I pulled my head back off Cliff’s cock, sliding him free with a loud, wet plop.  “Well, look who stood up to dance,” I said, smiling up at Cliff.  “Dance with me baby.”  I plunged back on his cock, trying to force him as far back in my throat as I could.  Deepthroating isn’t as easy as porn-world would lead one to believe.  I started to gag, and prepared myself to beat a swift retreat.  But then Cliff moaned, and it was a moan of utter pleasure.  God that was hot.  I had to hang in there and make Cliff moan like that again. Besides, the fullness of him ramming the back of my throat was too erotic to give up.

“Smile Amber,” Cassie said softly.  With fwapping gargling sounds coming out of my mouth, I turned my gaze to her.  Cassie was either video-taping me or taking some pictures with her phone.  I wanted to give her the finger, but I needed to cling to Cliff’s strong thighs to maintain my up and down on his cock.  My nose was getting closer and closer to his pubic bone.  I didn’t want to lose my momentum.  Umm, he made my mouth so stuffed—my pussy throbbed.  I didn’t know a pussy could throb. 

I was making gagging and sputtering noises when Cliff started stroking my head.  The fear of him forcing my head down bloomed inside me, but, not to worry, he didn’t do it.  Too bad—that would have been hot.  Cliff’s caresses were sweet, though, and they made me like him, and what I was doing, all the more.  Plus, it had to be killing Cassie, who clearly wanted this to be an embarrassing disaster.  I forced myself down on Cliff even more, past the tightness at the back of my throat, and he moaned.  It was deelish!

“Jesus, Cassie,” Cliff said.  “You’re soaking wet.”  I glanced in Cassie’s direction.  Cliff’s hand was all the way up her bridesmaid dress.  Cassie’s mouth hung down.  Her smirk was gone.  She turned her head and her eyes popped wide open as her gaze settled on the dividing screen.

“Hey, Devon,” Cassie said.

I pulled myself off Cliff’s cock and turned to see where Cassie was looking.  Standing beside the dividing screen was my bridal party partner, Devon.  He grinned as he looked at me kneeling between Cliff’s knees, my face flushed, and Cliff’s cock pointing straight at me, while Cliff’s hand rustled against up inside Cassie’s dress, against her privates.

We were discovered.  I was such a dirty slut.  My pussy throbbed again!

What to do?  I supposed I could panic, but Brenda, Donna and Cassie had given me a mandate, well, several man-dates, and, despite myself, I was starting to enjoy it.  Hey, could that be true?

“Cliff,” Devon said, “you’re hogging all the hot ladies.”

“Yeah, sorry bro.”

I screwed up my courage and said to Devon, “You’ll get your turn, big fella, but first Cliff owes me a present.”  I gave Devon the best smile I could muster, but it probably looked tortured.  I wasn’t sure that was the right thing to say.  Relief filled me when Devon smiled.

I stroked Little Cliffy and slipped my lips back over his head.  My whole body leaned into it as I pounded him in and out of my mouth, just the first few inches, rapid-fire and tempo-building, rising quickly, big crescendo.  I pictured Cliff coming in my mouth, and then I moaned with a visceral desire.  “Come in my mouth, Cliff,” I said.  “Please come in my mouth.  Fill my dirty little slut mouth.”  My imagining became reality as Cliff spewed hot cum onto my tongue.  I knew he must have more than one sally in him, so I kept pumping him.  A second treat followed the first, and Devon started to applaud.

“Nice to meet you, Cliff,” I said, my mouth full of his hot cum.  Gawd.  I
was
a filthy slut.

“Cut it out!” Cassie hissed.  She pushed Cliff’s hand down and out of her dress.  “Devon, stop clapping.  You’ll draw attention.”  Cassie pulled Cliff up from his seat.  “Come on, Cliff.  Zip your shit up and get back to the party, both of you.”  Cliff and Devon didn’t move quickly, but they did leave.

I was sorry to see the boys go.

“What’s the matter?” I asked as Cassie helped me to my feet.  I’d swallowed Cliff’s cum, but his flavor still coated my mouth, and I was savoring it.  He was salty and hot, and I was a slut who enjoyed cum.

“It bothers me,” Cassie said, smoothing down the front of her dress and wiping at the perspiration on her forehead.

“What bothers you?”

“You.  This.  It’s supposed to be a punishment.  You’re ruining it.  You are ruining it by enjoying it.”  Cassie grabbed me by my bare shoulders and shook me.  “Plus, I don’t understand.”

“You don’t understand what?”

Cassie shook her head like she shouldn’t say anymore, but then, for some reason, she capitulated.  “I don’t understand why this turns me on so much,” she said.  Cassie pulled me in, crushing me against her.  The satin of the dress tickled my nipples as Cassie’s bosom smushed against mine.  “You’re so fucking hot,” Cassie said.  She locked her lips on mine and forced her tongue between them while her palms ran up and down my bare back.  I could feel the moistness in my pussy swell.

“Umm,” Cassie said.  “Cliff tastes good, doesn’t he?”  She released me, but took my hand in hers.

I nodded my head and went, “Mmm, mmm,” just to bug Cassie some more.  I was glad my gambit paid off—my gambit of pretending to enjoy giving the blowjob.

“You’re such a slut,” Cassie said as she led me back to the party.

I tried to wash the taste of Cliff away with another G&T.  It didn’t work.  Now my mouth tasted like C&G&T.

Smacking my lips, I smiled.  I felt…satisfied.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

"And now, if the bridal party will take their positions," the deejay announced, "we will welcome Chet and his bride Lisa, for the first time as husband and wife!"

I felt a little woozy from the gin, and I reminded myself that my body was much smaller than I was used to, and not to drink too much.  Yeah, as if that might happen.  It was a wedding with an open bar!

Donna rushed over to Cassie and me and said, "C'mon ladies.  Showtime."  Donna scooted between us, stretched her arms out along both my and Cassie's lower backs, and guided us into the center of the barn.  Her hand drifted south.  Donna squeezed my ass.  She pressed her face near mine, and I turned to kiss her, but her lips moved to my ears.

"Hey, Blowjob Queen," Donna whispered to me, "brush the dust from your knees.  Try not to advertise what an easy slut you are."

We went to the cleared out area on the dance floor where Brenda was already standing.  Until Chet and Lisa entered, we were the center of attention.  My face blushed furiously as I tried to brush away the black marks on my knees.  When I bent forward to do so, even though my bridesmaid dress ended just above my knees, I felt like the people behind me could see my buck naked butt.

To make matters worse, some of the grime on my knees didn't go away.  I'd need soap and water for that.

As if my embarrassment wasn't enough, when I stood up I looked across the aisle we formed, bridesmaids facing ushers. Cliff had his hand on Devon’s shoulder, and was confiding something.  Was Cliff telling Devon there was a bet and I had to have sex with all the ushers?  Great.  This was rapidly spinning out of control.  The deejay startled me with his semi-forced, somewhat insincere excitement:  "Let's all clap our hands," the deejay roared, "and welcome the happy couple!"

Across the way, Devon smiled at me lasciviously, and gave me a thumbs-up.  Great.  Well, at least he didn’t think Cliff and I were a couple.  That was something positive.  Devon could easily have assumed Cliff and I were exclusive after having seen me on my knees and sucking Cliff’s fat cock.  Especially after I made it look like I enjoyed having his fat cock down my throat.

Whoa—did my pussy just flutter?  Did that turn me on, thinking of myself on my knees and sucking Cliff’s fat cock?  Whoa.  Another flutter.  My pussy must just flutter randomly.  That must be it.

Cliff turned and whispered to Art, and Art whispered to Javier.  They all leered at me like a bunch of hungry wolves about to pounce on some helpless prey—another flutter.  God help me.

Shame ran deeply throughout me, and I felt like my whole body must be beet red.  I was the Wedding Slut, and they all knew it.  And they knew they could use me and toss me away—no strings.  I was no more than a simple object to them.

Men are horrible, craven, animals.  Too bad the ushers were all so studly.  Maybe I could do them all at once?  God,
that
turned me on a lot.  Was I losing my mind?  Why was I thinking this way?

I was never so glad in all my life to see Lisa appear.  We clapped the newlyweds in, and they kissed and then danced their first dance.  Soon the bridal party was asked to join them.  Devon floated toward me, extending his arms.

I went to him, Mr. Gorgeous, not because I wanted to, but because it was expected of me.  That’s what I told myself. The dance was a slow waltz.  “I can’t dance,” I whispered to Devon.

“Don’t worry,” he replied with a smile.  “I can.  Just follow my lead.”  He extended one arm and cast out his other, elbow high, resting his fingertips on my bare shoulder blade.  I wrapped one arm over his, resting my palm on his burly shoulder, and put my other palm in his.  And then we glided.

I was a bit glitchy at first, but soon I found the rhythm of the soothing chords, and I figured out pretty quickly that not only was I to follow his lead with my feet, but also with my hips and torso.  Before long, we glided in sync around the dance floor, and were attracting admiring gazes.

The admiring gazes were enjoyable.  I didn’t suppose they were admiring my skill as a dancer—far from it.  In my imagination, I pictured them admiring us as a couple—him gorgeous, me hot.  I blushed at the notion of how smoothly our bodies moved together, and also at how, with a mere bit of pressure on my back, or a twist of his hips, Devon could command my body to move, and my body instinctively followed his command.  In the laboratory of the dance floor, that tiny microcosm, I was his to command, and I followed his commands, gladly and without thought.

It was a surprisingly pleasant state of being.

Although there were no mirrors, I knew the lift of my arms must have been accentuating my bosom nicely.  Part of me desperately wanted Devon to glance down and notice the ripe melons that graced my chest, but he didn’t look down.  No, our eyes remained locked on each other’s.  It was so hot I could die.

Devon had dreamy dark blue eyes, and they radiated confidence.  His cologne was unidentifiable, but it was manly and sweet all at once.  That dance was a miracle to me, a connection with another person that I’d never experienced, and I didn’t want it to end.  Soon, though, too soon, the music stopped.

We were near Lisa and Chet when the music ended, and I watched them kiss.  The wedding party, including me, applauded and cheered.  A pang of jealousy rose in my breast, jealousy over two people being so closely connected and happy about it, but I quickly forced that jealousy from my mind.  Such thinking was beneath me.  I had to keep up hope that I could find such a perfectly matched lover one day.

“So," Devon said when he escorted me to my seat at the dais, pulling my chair out for me, "I hear there is a little bet."

"Yes," I replied.  "Do you think the Pats will win the conference?"

"Very funny.  Of course they will.  I’m talking about the bridesmaids bet."

That’s how Cassie had framed it for the boys—it was a bet that I had to sleep with all the groomsmen.  “It’s not really a bet,” I said.  Devon whisked my linen napkin off the table and draped it over my lap.  “It’s supposed to be a…”  I trailed off.  What was I thinking?  I’d almost said it was a punishment.  That would go over like a lead balloon—I’m supposed to blow you as a punishment.  Nice thinking!

“A what?” Devon asked.

I ran my hand along his leg and said, “A lot of fun.”

Devon smiled.  “I would hope so.”  Leaning close, he patted my hand and whispered, “There’s a divan in the Bride’s Chamber upstairs, a very comfortable divan.  Meet me there after the main course.”  I stared at my place setting and nodded my head, my heart pounding wildly, fearful that his strong, large hand resting on mine would detect my crazy hard pulse.  If he did, he didn’t show it.  Devon glided away to his seat on the other side of the dais.  I watched him walk the whole way.  Cute butt!

The Bride’s Chamber.  Hmm.  At least we’d have some privacy up there.  It wouldn’t be like blowing Cliff with two hundred guests on the other side of a dividing screen.  Hmm.  I wondered if it would be less exciting, giving a blowjob without the fear of being discovered.  Oh, look at that—so it
had
been exciting.  Gosh.  Well, yes it was.  I could admit it to myself.  There was no way I’d admit that to Cassie, though.  I giggled a bit as I realized that I enjoyed being a little slut kneeling between Cliff’s legs and blowing him.  It didn’t make me a slut—I was just acting slutty.  After all, I was naturally adventurous.  Or maybe I was an exhibitionist.  But I wasn’t a tease.  No sir.  Cliff left quite satisfied.  Yeah, he was happy.  I could still taste his happiness in my mouth.

That brought on a smile.  My lips and tongue played that cock so well, it was like I deserved a solo in the Philharmonic.

It didn’t hurt that Cliff had a handsome cock, if handsome was the right word.  I licked my lips just thinking about it.  There was nothing wrong with me finding a cock attractive.  It wasn’t like my hot Amber-body was infecting my Andy-mind.  No.  I appreciated the beauty of Cliff’s cock in the same sense that I could appreciate the beauty of a statue.  Cliff’s cock was just handsome, was all.  And it fit nicely down my throat.  Oh, brother.  Maybe I was in trouble.  Especially since I kept wondering what Devon’s cock looked like.

Brenda sat down next to me, which was a relief, because she derailed my cock-obsessed daydreams.  I turned to look at Brenda, who was waving to one of the guests. I'd rather have sat next to Donna, but Donna was near the center, alongside Lisa.  Donna was the Maid of Honor.  Cassie was on the other side of Brenda.  So it went Lisa, Donna, Cassie, Brenda, and me.  I sat at the end of the elevated dais, with its rustic, long table that had no tablecloth.  At the center of the dais were Lisa and Chet, and off to the groom's right was Javier, the Best Man, and then the other groomsmen.  I only had Brenda to talk to.

Brenda sipped at her champagne, and then took her linen napkin and dabbed it in her water.  She handed it to me.  "Clean your knees, Blowjob Queen.  Don’t make it so obvious that you're a total slut."

"Thanks, I think," I said, and took the napkin.  As I wiped at my knees, I said, "Why are you and Donna calling me Blowjob Queen?”  She gave me a
are-you-kidding-me
look.  “Well, I won’t deny it,” I said.  “But how do you know?"

“Cassie sent the video to our phones.  Nice work.  You really seemed to enjoy yourself.”

I blushed.  “I had to make Cliff believe I was enjoying it.  That’s all.  I was acting like I enjoyed it for his benefit.  It was all a ruse.  I didn’t really enjoy it at all, but I pretended to, see?”

Brenda nodded her head, shaking her auburn curls.  “Yes.  Women do that a lot.”  Dodged that bullet!!  A silver platter with cheese and fruit was placed in front of us.  Brenda fussed about with the cheese cubes, wrinkling her nose at one, but finally found a morsel that looked likely to satisfy her.  I watched her sniff the cheese, and then nibble just a bit.  A broad smile broke across her face, and she happily ate the rest of the cube.

“We were both right, you know,” Brenda said.  I looked at the cheese plate.  I was thoroughly confused.

“Right about what?” I asked.

“Back in college,” Brenda said, “when we took Women’s Studies 301.  You said Ilsa Lund…you know, in
Casablanca
…should have given Rick a roll in the hay for old times sake, and then never tell her husband.”

I laughed and said, “I remember that.  We were young and foolish then.”

“It was four years ago,” Brenda said with a raised eyebrow.

“You have to draw the line somewhere between being young and foolish—the first stage—and being in the mature and wise stage.”

Brenda plucked another cube of cheese from the silver platter.  “For you, dear Amber, that line might be today,” she said.  “Anyway, I told you back then that you needed to swallow some estrogen pills to get in touch with your female side, and you told me I needed to get laid.”

“I did not!” I protested, although it was ringing a bell.

“You did,” Brenda replied.  “You made me so mad.  But you were right.  I did need to get laid.  I needed to see the world wasn’t all Victorian simplicity.  I took your advice.  I got laid a lot.”

“Good for you,” I said.  I looked past the cheese platter, to the wedding guests.  The men were casting their gazes our way—some brazen, some furtive.  Goodness, was Cliff whispering to every man he could find?  No, he was sitting next to Devon.  It was more likely that they remembered my show in the gazebo. 

“How could we both be right?” I asked Brenda.

“We were,” Brenda said.  “I can tell already, this is good for you.  You needed to get in touch with your feminine side.  You’ll be a better person because of it.”

I laughed so hard, I snorted like a piggy—so much for being feminine.  “Yeah, right,” I said.  Sure, I was growing comfortable in this body, but it wasn’t like I was becoming all-estrogen-y.  I didn’t have a single feminine impulse.  Nevertheless, I was developing a sensitivity to the heat of men’s stares.  I nodded towards the wedding guests out in front of our dais.  "Why are they all looking at us?" I asked.  "I mean looking at you and me, and not Chet and Lisa?"

Brenda placed a hand on mine and smiled.  "Cross your legs, dear.  You're flashing your bald pussy at two hundred strangers."

I crossed my legs.  Once again, my entire body felt beet red.