The Bridesmaid

Amateur

The ceremony was beautiful, the newlyweds were overjoyed and smiley. We congratulated the brides mother, our friend, consoling her as she cried that her daughter looked so beautiful, and that she’s flown the nest.

I’m with my friends, and we’ve now made our way to a country hotel for the wedding breakfast.

We’re all seated not far from the bride and grooms table. The girls are all staring at the grooms men.

They are laughing and making sexually charged comments about how fit they look. They’re matching them up with their partners all seated on another table on the otherside of the room.

I join in, feigning my interest in them. “Shame they’re all taken.” My friend says to me. “Oh well, plenty more fish.” I shrug.

“You’ll cop off with someone.” One of the girls sympathises and the rest of the table giggle and agree. Small talk turns to our kids, and work. “We should organise a night out, what do you think?” The question eagerly pressed. “Come on diaries out now, before we all agree and then forget.”

We all select dates and negotiate around holidays, kids commitments and husbands. Apart from me they’re all married or cohabiting. I live with my two older teenage kids, there’s no one special in my life. I don’t care, I’m getting more sex than them put together.

We all sip our Champagne. The conversation dies down and the speeches start. We cheers, laugh and on occasion there’s some light hearted and good humoured heckling. We quaff our drinks. Its a short while before the speeches end and general chit chat picks back up.

One of the girls is pointing with her head at one of the bridesmaids. “Well.” She starts. “I don’t know but, I’ve heard, she’s back with her mum and dad.” She says quietly. The table are all leaning in to get the gossip.

“She left her boyfriend and moved back there about a month ago.” The girls start murmuring. Different suggestions were put forward positing scenarios. The boyfriend meeting someone new. They all agreed and sympathised.

Waiting for the girls to finish the wild stories and theories “No, wrong way round.” The gossip interjects at the first pause she hears.

My heart skipped a beat and my ears pricked. “She’s come out and moved back home.” She adds. Sounds of shock erupt from around the table. Some of the girls look the way of the bridesmaid, who’s oblivious, and is enjoying the day laughing with the group at her table.

“Surely her mum knew?” One questioned. “It couldn’t have been a surprise. What about her friends, they must’ve noticed?” Another chimed in.

I turn beetroot and feel uncomfortable about the irony here. They’re sitting with a closeted member of team LGBT, who gives herself up to the first female that shows an interest. My friends, known since school, none of them have an inkling.

My friend sitting next to me pipes up and looks at me. “Actually, I’d have a wager on a little someone not too far from home.” She laughs and elbows me. I panic and my stomache summersaults. I fidget and squirm in my seat. I hope my face isn’t red, it feels like its melting.

“Who?” The rest of the table get serious for a second. She replies pointing with her eyebrows at a man on another table. An acquaintance we all know socially. The table bursts out laughing. I giggle with with relief.

“I need to visit the little girls room, excuse me.” I grab my black shoulder purse and squeeze my arse through the seats to get to the lavatories.

I finish in my cubicle and pat myself down with toilet paper. My pussy is awake, and I feel frustrated. I know today I’m not getting any action, but the tingle in my vagina is there.

I won’t give it a quick rub, it will change up a gear. I’ll leave it, unintentionally edging myself.

I get to the sink, and check myself in the mirror whilst I wash my hands.

My white trouser suit is tight, in the right places, the blue stripes accentuating my height. My arse, and tits look big, my upper chest is exposed, and my cleavage is ample, with the lace of my 38F bra just noticeable. My expensive matching black bra and panties make me feel special.

I check my subtle pink lipstick in the mirror, and admire my manicured orange nails as I do so. I keep my nails short, and squared off. My toes are the same colour and look beautiful in the designer strappy high heeled sandals.

I grab my purse and walk back to the table to enjoy the celebrations with my friends.

Later, out on the patio, the view of the forest is gorgeous with the sun setting. The city skyline in the background is magical. I feel proud to be British, looking at my city like this.

More people have arrived to party now, my kids are here meeting their friends and my friends are circling the room with their partners, talking to groups of people and mingling.

The bridesmaid is outside, arms folded, furiously typing a text. We are the only ones out here.

“Hi, bahis şirketleri You Ok?” I quietly call over.

The young woman looks up and breaks into a smile. She walks over to me. Her long chiffon dress splits up her leg with each stride of her left leg. Her leg is long and bare.

A strand of her dark hair hangs down the side of her slim face. The rest of her hair tied up with expert precision. Her smile is strong and infectious.

“I was expecting a friend to come.” She’s disappointed. “Apparently my friends and I will be drinking and she’ll feel left out. It’s a bloody wedding, what does she expect, it’s the evening party she can catch up. I didn’t think she was…” She hears herself complaining.

“How do you know the happy couple?” She interrupts herself.

“I know the brides mum, I used to go to school with her. In fact a lot of our school friends are here. It’s nice to be in the same room.” I reply.

She smiles; “I forgot my drink, would you like a refill?” She offers with a smile.

I open my purse to get a note out.

“I’ll get this one, you get the next. Don’t dump me for your friends and skimp on my drink.” She jokes.

“I won’t.” A smile spreads across my face. I wonder how long she thinks I’ll spend with her. I get a pang of shock. She’s got to be 16 years younger than me. She’ a few years older than my own kids.

I pull a heavy chair from the table, I try not to graunch its feet across the floor. I hate that grinding noise. Another couple come out and light a cigarette and start chatting to each other.

The breeze is cool and the temperature drops. I’m just starting to think I’ve been forgotten. The sky is getting darker and the patio lights come on.

The door bursts open, its the giggling bridesmaid, a bottle of red and two glasses in hand. She’s followed out by the other two bridesmaids and their respective partners.

The girls are gorgeous. I know of them a little. One of them is the daughter of someone I know and see at different social gatherings, the other must be a fairly new friend of the bride.

They smile at me. It seems as though they are checking me out, to signal their approval of me. I look at the girl putting the wine glasses down as I purposefully ignore what’s going on.

The familiar girl looks at me as if trying to work something out about me. Maybe she thinks she’s mistaken me for someone else.

“Don’t mind them.” My bridesmaid says loudly.

“They’re just nosey.” She says even louder, but with a smile.

They giggle and their partners take them off into the darkness, spilling their beers as they do.

The small talk between us begins. We talk, and the conversation flows, I tell her about my job as an Finacial Executive Officer for a small family run business and she tells me about her degree and time in Durham.

She moved down with her boyfriend, rented a flat and moved back home with her mum and dad. She realised life was going in the wrong direction by settling down with a man.

“… but, girls my age are full of drama, and aren’t committed, they have no backbone, as evidenced tonight…” She tells me. I sense I’m the immediate object of her desire.

The conversation flows nicely as does the wine.

Different friends come out to say hello and my kids briefly make an appearance. I don’t introduce any of them to the bridesmaid, likewise nor does she with me.

It’s getting late, I don’t want to be too tired, or hungover. I pick up my phone. “I’d better book a cab.” I smile at her. “Ok?” She inquires.

“Going to uber it shortly.” I reply.

A playful scowl crosses her face. “My drink?” She questions. “You can’t leave me, you have a debt.” She continues, disappointed.

“I’m old enough to be your mother.” I shoot back at her. It turns me on, as I hear myself saying it.

“Hardly!” She exclaims. “What’s age anyway?” Her words continue. She’s looking at me hoping to change my mind.

“Come up to my room. It’s booked and we can continue there. I’ll let you off the drink you owe.” Her argument is persuasive.

“No. People will see. I need to get back.” I counter.

“Look, we’re having a nice chat. Let’s not end it too soon. My room is 357. I’ll go up in ten, you come up at…” She looks at her dainty watch. I flash the time on my phone and she glances.

“…you come up at quarter to. If you really want to go back, I will book you an uber as soon as you ask!” Staring at me, willing me to break.

She’s cute. I have no real reason not to. This appears too good an opportunity to turn down. This is in my lap.

“357, quarter to.” I confirm. I get up and leave her sitting there.

I make my way back into the party. My kids are on the dancefloor. I go over and have a little dance with them. I pull my older daughter away from her friends and lie to her. I tell her that some of us are going on to another party.

I bahis firmaları open my purse and hand her a twenty, I tell her to use my uber app on her iPhone to get them both home. She has to look after her younger sibling, “No excuses, and any problems call me straight away.” I tell her under no uncertain terms.

“I love you.” I kiss her cheek and wave at my youngest having fun on the dancefloor. I walk through the thinning groups milling about and go to reception. I rush up the stairs to the first floor. I hope no one notices, if they do I will say I’m lost looking for the toilet as convincingly as I can.

I call a lift to take me the rest of the way. I check myself in the mirror. I’m a beauty, I lift my splendid rack a little and quickly apply some lipstick.

The lift stops. I step out just as the doors to the stairs open, a couple step through. “Hi, what are you doing up here?” My good friend the gossip, from my table greets me. “I didn’t think you had booked a room?” She enquires.

“I didn’t, don’t” I reply tripping over myself, wondering what nonsense I’m going to come out with. The excuse I’d thought of escapes me in the moment.

Waving my phone, I raise my eyes and shrug my shoulders “My phone isn’t working properly. Someone suggested I use their charger and hotel wi-fi in their room.” I’m surprised by what I think is a decent response.

“Right!” She queries.

“Ok, I need to book my uber must dash.” I stroll off trying to make out the numbered directions in this maze of rooms. I walk round a corner and see room 357. I knock quietly.

“Open the door, open the door.” I whisper quietly to myself. What’s taking her.

My friend walks around the corner, seeing me “These places are like a labrynth.” She laughs. The door opens, bridesmaid is standing there greeting me. I ignore my friend and enter the room. I kick the door shut with my heel, it’s stuck on the shutter, and gently closes, then slams after an age by itself.

Her smile is infectious. She extends her arms and gives me a huge hug. She has obviously come up and readjusted herself for me. She looks fresh and beautiful.

She opens the minibar, “Champagne, gin, beer, wine?” She lists, looking intently in the fridge.

“I think I’ll be boring and have a still water please. I’m a little parched.” I reply. I see her bum wiggle as she reaches into the fridge.

She’s soon standing and smiling. She’s holding my water, a small can of fever tree tonic and a tiny bottle of gin.

“I’ll grab you a glass.” She says and starts for the bathroom.

“No glass. Bottles fine.” I urge.

She looks at me quizzically.

“I don’t use hotel glasses or mugs, not from the rooms at least.” I explain.

“Weird huh.” I throw in.

She smiles a big grin, and puts her gin back, opens her tonic and hands me the water. She knocks her tonic against the bottle of water I’m holding. “Cheers.” She says looking into my eyes.

I smile, mesmerised by her continuous happy, and cheerful persona. I can tell she enjoys life and is a joyful character.

She leans in and plants an exploratory kiss on my lips. I kiss her back and for a short while we stand there kissing. Our bodies motionless, just kissing.

Eventually we break, she sips her tonic, and sets it down on the table. She looks at me and I watch as she drops her dress from her shoulders. It works its way to the floor as she expertly wiggles it off her slim body. Her movements are slow and seductive, I watch in anticipation.

Her breasts are pushed up in their bra, her matching laced thong is high on her waist. Her nude high heels are extending and defining her legs.

I drop my purse, as she approaches stepping out of the dress, now encircling her on the floor.

My hands reach for her waist and I take hold of her. We kiss, passionately. I kiss her neck, and her hands make there way up to my jacket buttons.

She fingers them open and exposes my bra clad tits. “Oh, my.” She exclaims, her eyes light up. I see the absolute elation on her face. She reaches behind her back and her bra plummets. Her tits are nice, small, and proud.

She’s undoing the button on my trousers. Her fingers expertly pull the zip down. The loud purposeful zip noise charges us both. She puts more effort into pulling my tight trousers over my arse. They sink to my knees, needing a tug over my thick calf muscles.

I place myself on the bed and undo my shoes. She kneels and gently pulls the legs of my trousers off over each foot. She gently holds my foot, a soft elegant size 6. They are pretty feet.

She takes my foot in both hands and sucks, she licks between my toes and up my sole. I feel the effects zing up my spine. She kisses from my ankle, up my leg and up my thighs. She is worshipping me, every inch.

She stands and seductively pulls her thong down, a thumb inside the high band either side of her hips. She kaçak bahis siteleri bends down touching her shoes without a bend in her knee. “Fuck, your nimble.” I say out loud.

Her exposed fanny is youthful and extremely well kept. The strip of dark hair above is trimmed and narrow, the lips look slick with her wetness.

She kicks my legs open and straddles my thigh. She is wet, I feel it straight away. A glossy trail forms on my skin. She’s rubbing her pussy against my taught thigh. We are both silent. Our breathing heavy. My hands on her waist as she rubs herself on me.

Back and forth, her pussy is drenching my skin. Back and forth, her lips part open sliding up and down me. Back and forth, her clit exposes itself along my smooth leg.

She puts her arms onto my shoulders, as I continue holding her waist. She’s bringing herself off on me, all I have to do is watch.

My cunt is getting wetter and wetter. She leans in, and kisses my neck. She’s moaning into me as she cums. We stop for a brief moment, her hands undo my bra, a wave of relief hits me as my big tits are set free. They drop under their own weight. These tits have nursed two children.

She juggles them with her hands. Her slender fingers tweak at my nipples, she squeezes and massages them. She’s firm and sure in her actions.

She stands and pushes me back onto the bed. My tits part as I lay back, and she tugs my panties off.

My waxed pussy is fully exposed. It’s a wet mess. Her face is straight in between my legs. She’s drawing patterns on my labia with her tongue. One hand on my slightly rotund middle aged milf tummy, the other gently pushing my left thigh up, fully presenting my femine sex.

She’s lapping away at me, giving me me a good licking. I feel my inner muscles start to contract. She stops, and I’m frustrated. She forces my legs further apart and spreads my cunt lips.

Her tongue delves into my love box, and she fucks me with her wet muscle. Her fingers start making their way in. My hole is inviting and easily accepting. She’s started with three fingers, and she’s spreading my hole open. She stretches and works, the pain eases, she stretches and works again adding another erect digit.

I feel my cunt flood, self lubricating itself as she squeezes her hand into my fat child birthing hot hole. I feel the gentle pressure of the wall of my entrance expand as she slowly moves her hand up the wet tunnel. Each time she pushes she tries a little harder.

“Keep going, don’t stop.” I urge. I sit up, trying not to jar myself. My legs are spread and I raise one foot to the edge of the bed. I reach down and hold her wrist. Her right hand is in up to the knuckles.

She is concentrating on her act, trying not to hurt me. I help her with her pace turning and screwing her hand into to me. I relax a little and breathe in, gradually getting her hand all the way in.

“Fist your hand now and fuck me.” I order. She pushes in and starts a slow, steady piston motion. I lie back, she’s wrist deep in me, fucking me. Her mouth licks and sucks at my exposed clit. I feel the urge to cum. I get up on my elbows to watch her.

Her eyes, big and bright, watching me as she fucks me. Her movements inside make me lose control. My clit is swollen, and throbbing from her sucking.

My back arches as I know the familiar sensation. I cum, I’m flooding, creating a wet patch under me, I squirt her face. She slows and withdraws, stopping my shudders and quietening my loud moans.

“That’s hot.” She exclaims in a thrill of excitement.

I hear her words and try to muster the energy to move.

She crawls up me, and kneels, her hungry pussy hovering over me. I pull her down, and slide my tongue into her delicious slippery slit. The slimey musky liquid is oozing from her hot hole.

I devour it like my last meal. Her moans are becoming louder as she rocks over my face. I feel her slim arse, I want to finger her forbidden hole. I slide my fingers into her crack and find her box of delights.

I probe and push, she squeals, and cums falling forward into the headboard. Keeping my finger in place, I get behind her and lick her arse crack. I dribble some lubricating spit onto my inserted finger and screw it further in.

I’m leaning into her, finger fucking her arse, licking and lubricating the finger to help its motion. The taste is bitter and it smells pungent. I don’t care, I love her arse, I’ve embarrassed myself plenty of times being arse fucked, it goes with the territory.

She moans more and more loudly, as I start plundering her hot snatch too. Double penetration, double the fun. I’m fucking this young beauty, and its so fucking hot.

She cums over my fingers and I lick her juices off them. The cum from her cunt contrasts the flavours from her foul shitter.

We lay for a while before exploring each other again. I spend a magical night, with the bridesmaid, fucking into the early hours.

The stench of our sex is overpowering the room. The bed is cold and damp, our bodies entwined and sticky, I peel myself from her and search for my phone.

I need an uber, and to get home.

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