A Very Non-Traditional Wedding

After fifteen years together our friends, Jenny and Stephen, decided it was time to get married. Strings of lights hung above their heads as they faced each other. The pianist’s fingers danced lightly across the ivory and black keys and he crooned a love-ballad that made Jenny blush and Stephen smile wider. The two of them intertwined their hands and whispered secrets that only they could share.

Jenny wore an elegant ivory-colored silk and sheer dress with a secondary embroidered piece with details that perfectly hugged to her long, thin frame and ornately wound around her firm breasts, accentuating her cleavage. Her shoulder-length blond hair fell aside her thin cheek bones and she flipped it from her face from time-to-time to reveal blushed skin on her face and neck. She was so obviously nervous and assuredly the whispers from Stephen were meant to calm.

Stephen had the broadest smile and the whitest teeth. He lit up the room with his smile and it endeared him to everyone. It was as if the smile had gravitational pull. People just felt at ease with Stephen and his flirtatious style made women want him and made men envious. This too had been true for my wife and I.

Marilyn, my wife, blushed every time Stephen would remark on her pretty eyes or how nice she looked in whatever she was wearing. His dark chocolate eyes looked directly into hers and there was what I could only describe as a longing, a need shared between them. I had seen it for years. Every time we went to dinner or a movie with Jenny and Stephen, he would say something that caused Marilyn to blush and hold Stephen’s eyes longer than friends typically would. Sometimes Stephen’s whispers or not-so-settle comment about how sexy Marilyn looked in the short skirts she liked to wear resulted in a blush, a giggle, and the playful hit on the arm or even a hug that lasted a beat too long.

I realized during dinner one evening that Jenny had noticed these things too. Stephen had joked that Marilyn needed to stop wearing short skirts because it was distracting the waiters. Then, as they Marilyn giggled and Stephen let his eyes linger, I glanced at Jenny, who was already studying me for a reaction. She was looking for jealousy, but she found none in my eyes. Marilyn and I had been together for over twenty years and we no longer felt jealousy or fear of losing the other. Then Jenny’s lips turned into a demure grin and her eyes seemed to say I think they like each other.  On this our silent banter would agree. Yet there was more in her look and her smile. For months these moments occurred and, just weeks before the wedding, it finally occurred to me that it was Jenny’s attraction for me that I was reading in her secret smiles for me. And then I felt my face run hot with blush when she would glance at me as my wife and her fiancé exchanged glances or libidinous comments. Somehow these moments became even more intense as the wedding approached. I found my eyes lingering longer on Jenny’s breast curves and how her thin, muscular legs flexed when she walked in shorts that barely covered her ass. At times I just wanted Marilyn and Stephen to disappear so I could pull Jenny’s clothes off and have her right there. At times I thought maybe Jenny was imagining the same thing. And at other times I really believed my wife wanted the same to be true for her and Stephen. Yet none of us had ever acted on it beyond the flirting or secret brushing of hands or the lingering of lips when our faces might come close together by accident, such as when Jenny and I had reached for tumbling vegetables on the kitchen counter as we prepared a meal together a couple nights before the wedding. It would have been so simple to lean an inch further and taste her lips.

The wedding itself lasted maybe five minutes. Jenny and Stephen had rented out the entire building that was ran by a local jazz club for the evening and they wanted to party rather than the trappings of a traditional wedding. Following quick statements of avowed love and promises to follow through with the dreams they had shared for their lives together, they exchanged rings and the party began. The pianist sang from behind the piano and was accompanied by a saxophonist, a bass player with an oversized upright bass, and a guitarist with an electric guitar slung over his shoulder.  A small area for dancing was ringed by tables and chairs where a hundred guests drank and talked in celebration of the long-awaited wedding. Jenny and Stephen were truly beautiful together and I could not stop my eyes from gazing lustily on Jenny’s lips, hips, and cleavage. Marilyn too looked as though she were having thoughts about what was under Stephen’s tuxedo. And though Jenny and Stephen had responsibilities with other guests, they seemed to always find their way to us and the longing looks made me worry that someone would notice. Marilyn must have sensed it too as we agreed to leave blaming the lateness of the evening.

Twice Marilyn and I attempted to leave for home. Each time Jenny or Stephen proved obstacles. The first time we started to say goodbye Stephen grabbed Marilyn’s hand, and with a sweeping, toothy smile, said, “but this my favorite song and we haven’t danced enough.” With their bodies tight to each other, Stephen and Marilyn glided across the dance floor and Jenny laughed while watching them. Her hand delicately brushed mine and her blue eyes looked into mine with more allure and desire than I had seen before. Her painted lips were wet and her smile seemed to tremble. The faintest bite of her bottom lip made me want to kiss her now more than ever before. Of course I could not, but I wanted to taste her lips, to feel them against me. Fortunately, one of the guests broke the moment and asked her to dance. Jenny handed me her glass and said, “Hang on to that for me. I will be back.” Her eyes held mine as her dance partner moved her to the floor. My chest tightened and I knew I would need to leave soon or I would do something stupid, like run my fingers through the strands of her hair, pull her head back, and suck on her neck. Out of the corner of my eye I thought I saw Stephen’s hand move down Marilyn’s ass cheek before resting again on her hip. It was fleeting but I swore I had seen it.

The second attempt to leave, nearly an hour and a half later, was blocked when Jenny took a turn with me on the dance floor. I almost didn’t want to go. My heart had been racing faster and I had become anxious. I was certain all the flirty play was going to be discovered. My mind was racing. Could other guests see it? Was this just in my head?  This is stupid and Marilyn and I need to get the hell out of here! But as Jenny danced with me, she pressed her body tight to mine, unlike any of her other dance partners that night. I could smell the sweetness of sweat, of her perfume, of the flower someone had tucked behind her ear. All I had to do was move a few inches more and I would be able to taste the skin. My cock stiffen against her thigh, betraying me. I ached trying to hold it at bay.

“It was a beautiful wedding,” I said trying to distract my mind from my cock’s revolt against all logic. Jenny smiled sideways and I knew she had felt it against her. I started to pull away, but she moved her hand from my shoulder to my mid-back and squeezed her body closer. Her thigh pressed harder between my thighs and  she looked at me with a smile and knowing in her eyes.

“Thank you, sweetie,” she said, her voice as silky as the dress she wore. “Stephen and I are so happy you came and stayed. You’ll stay a little longer, won’t you?” Her face and lips inches from mine. Her eyes darted away and, despite the dimly lit floor, I could see a blush run from her neck to her cheek bones.

“But its pretty late and won’t you be wanting to get to your honeymoon suite?” I said.

“There’s only one more song and everyone will be gone in twenty minutes,” she said. Jenny leaned her head so that our cheeks were touching. I could feel all of her body against me. Her breasts against my chest. Our legs and hips were pressed against the other’s. “Stay,” she whispered in my ear. Ice ran through my body as she squeezed me impossibly closer. She pulled away and looked me in the eyes with a glare that was no longer asking me to stay. The look was demanding that I stay.

I stood beside Marilyn as the last song played and guests moved towards the door. The dance floor remained dimly lit, but the stage and back of the building where guests were exiting, were brightly lit. I was shaking. Nervous. And that’s when I noticed that Marilyn too was shaking, trembling. We just stood there saying nothing. We held hands, but words failed both of us.

As if Marilyn was exploding inside she finally whispered loud enough for me to hear, “Stephen wants us to stay a little longer.” She never looked at me. Her hand fidgeted in mine.

“As does Jenny,” I said, squeezing her hand tighter. Silence. “Would you like to stay…longer,” I finally stammered out, both my wife and I still avoiding eye contact.

Her pause, I believe, was intended to be just long enough to make me believe that she had to think it over, but yet fast enough for me to know that she knew the answer well before I ever asked it. “Yes,” she said. Turning to me, she looked me in the eyes and said, “but only if you really want to and are okay with…staying.” I did not have to say anything. Marilyn read the answer in the expression on my face. Her smile became devilish. Before we could break from our consenting gazes, I heard clicking of shoe soles moving towards us. I glanced behind Marilyn to see Stephen and Jenny, hand-in-hand walking quickly toward us.

“Here they come,” I whispered to my wife.

“Jay, I’m nervous,” Marilyn said with a whisper. “But my god I’m so fucking horny and want this so bad.”

“Then let’s make this wedding night memorable,” I said. Marilyn’s eyes filled with lust at this and all she could do was nod and smile.

“The door is locked,” is the only thing Stephen said before running his hand down my wife’s back and around her waist. He gently pulled her away from me. Stephen and I exchanged glances of approval of what was to happen next. Marilyn’s hands released from mine and she turned and followed Stephen towards the women’s restroom. Almost simultaneously, Jenny grabbed my hand and pulled me so that I would follow her. Her palms were sweaty but so soft that I could only imagine how they would feel wrapped around my cock-shaft. Jenny practically dragged me toward the men’s room of the jazz club. I caught a glimpse of my wife  slipping behind the door of the women’s room and I felt the tug of wishing I could watch, fleeting as that thought was.

Jenny pulled me to her as soon as we entered the restroom. Her mouth tasted of strawberries and her tongue was even sweeter. “Unzip,” she commanded with heavy breathing as she pulled my hands towards the back of her dress. The embroidered part of the dress that hung on her shoulders slid off and she tossed it on the bathroom counter. Deftly, with her mouth still sucking against mine, she managed to hike up the bottom of her dress above her knees. She directed my hands to another zipper that loosened the dress from the bottom up. I did so while she fumbled at my jacket, my tie, my shirt, and then, finally, my pants. I was naked and she was wearing only what was left of her dress, that she pulled up over her hips, and the flower behind her ear.

“I’ve wanted this for so long,” said Jenny, turning to lean over the bathroom counter. She pressed a hand against the mirror and spread her legs apart, delicately balancing on tall heels. “Now, Jay! I need it now!”

I positioned myself behind Jenny’s muscular, round ass. My cock ached as I moved closer. I glanced in the mirror and saw her crystal blue eyes looking back into mine, full of desire, pleading for me to hurry. Her face was urgent, as if she were about to explode from waiting. From the other side of the wall, I heard Marilyn moan loudly. A moan I knew well. She was cumming with Stephen’s cock buried inside her. I could hear their bodies slapping and the counter banging. My cock nearly erupted when I heard Marilyn cum yet again. Jenny reacted upon hearing them too. “Now, dammit!” she commanded. “I need it now!”

I slide my cock inside her tight, wet pussy. Jenny arched her head back and let out an soulful groan equaling Marilyn’s from the other side of the mirror. Jenny’s body trembled with the immediacy of her intense orgasm. She bucked backwards once the initial climax subsided and I thrust fast to provoke another orgasm. I grabbed her by the shoulder for leverage with one hand and her waist with the other. My cock swelled thick inside her and my balls ached. I gave her ass a firm slap and Jenny squealed, put her head against the mirror, pushed her body towards me, and came so hard her legs shook. I could feel her orgasm stroke my cock as she came. I could feel the tip of my sensitive cock flex. I tried to hold back. I bit my lip. But she kept stroking my cock from inside. My wife let loose another orgasmic yell from the other side of the mirror. I heard Marilyn coax Stephen. “Cum for me,” she was saying. “Cum for me now!” Marilyn moaned again and moments later Stephen too was groaning, telling her that he was cumming.

Jenny spun on the counter and sat. She lifted her legs and rested her back against the mirror. I spread her legs apart and pushed inside. Jenny came within seconds. She grabbed at the back of my head with both her hands and her eyebrows furrowed. Jenny moaned loudly. The tip of my cock flexed each time I hit Jenny’s g-spot, deep inside of her. And when Jenny’s beautiful face contorted once again, with her eyes closed and mouth open, moaning, I felt the first pulse of my cock and I moaned loud.

“Oh god yes!” Jenny squealed. “Yes! Now, Jay, now!” Jenny’s pussy tugged harder at my cock. I squeezed her ankles and thrust faster. She groaned loud and slammed her hands on the edge of the counter. With each thrust my cock exploded. My orgasm froze time and all I could feel was Jenny around me. All I could smell was her sweat and perfume. All I could taste was her strawberry lips. All I could hear was her moaning. I pushed tight against her, my cock buried as deep as it could go, and we shook together.

Marilyn and I replayed the night’s affair when we got home. Neither of us have cum so often or with more passion. Stephen and Jenny texted us the next morning and told us to be at their home the night they returned from their honeymoon. They said they couldn’t wait to show us pictures from their trip. They also told us to plan on staying the night.