The wedding had been nice, but the reception was a real blast. Drink flowed freely, and a large number of the attendees were a little over the top before the night ended. You could spot the designated drivers by their sour looks, but most people had arranged for taxis or were staying overnight at the hotel. I was overnighting myself.
I was the best man. I suppose I could have joined in and got plastered with the rest, but I'd promised to keep an eye on things and make sure that everyone got away safely. Not drinking didn't worry me. For some reason I can't stand the taste of beer, and as far as I'm concerned, wine is just a drink you have with your dinner. I have been known to overdo the whiskey, but only rarely.
With all the people there I'd figured that the ones I'd have least concern for were the bride and groom. They had a suite booked in the hotel and were leaving bright and early for their honeymoon. I was actually a little surprised as the night wore on to see that Mike and Cecelia were still at the reception.
It seemed to me that Cecelia had a rather frozen look on her face, but Mike was still knocking them back and being the life of the party. We'd promised the hotel that we'd all be gone by eleven, so shortly before that I started chasing out the stragglers. With them gone I found I was left with two late stayers – the bride and groom.
I moved over to give them some final congratulations. Cecelia just gave me a helpless look and Mike was just lolling in his chair, a big smirk on his face. He was plastered. If we could get him to stand I'd have laid odds that he'd just fall flat on his face.
I felt tempted to let him, but an unspoken plea from Cecelia had me behaving and offering some proper help. I levered Mike to his feet and guided his staggering way towards the elevators. Once in one, I propped him against a wall and we sailed up to the bridal suite. By the time we reached it, Mike was out cold.
I'm quite a hefty lad, so when the lift reached the right floor I just bent down and lifted Mike in a fireman's carry, following Cecelia down the hall to their suite. Entering the suite, I dumped Mike on the couch. Damned if I was carrying him to the bedroom. I helped Cecelia take off his shoes and outer clothes and we just left him there, snoring as though he invented it. He was out of action until the morning.
I said goodnight to Cecelia and was about to depart when I noticed she was biting her lip. Something was troubling her besides Mike getting blotto, and she didn't know how to mention it. I've always had a very soft spot for Cecelia. If Mike hadn't come along with his flamboyant style there was a good chance I might have made a determined play for her myself.
Anyway, considering her carefully as I prepared to depart, it suddenly dawned on me what her problem was. She was still in her wedding dress, and it was big and heavy and Cecelia had had two bridesmaids to help her put it on. It had been assumed by everyone that the groom would help her remove it, but the groom was out cold on the couch.
"You can't take your dress off by yourself," I guessed. "Do you want me to ring up Shirley and Kit to come and help? They're overnighting in the hotel."
Cecelia bit her lip and shook her head.
"They left earlier and they're probably both in bed. I don't want to drag them out just because Mike had a couple too many."
"A couple?" I thought. I mean, the man was plastered.
Still chewing on her lip Cecelia finally said what she wanted.
"Um, I know it's a lot to ask, Frank, but could you come in, unzip me and help me place the dress on its stand. It'll only take a minute."
What could I say? I didn't really have a choice. I gestured for her to lead the way.
"Why does it need to be on a stand?" I asked.
"We're leaving it here when we go in the morning," Cecelia informed me. "The hotel are going to pack it properly and send it to mum's place. That means that when we get up we can just dress, grab out bags and jump in the taxi and it's Hamilton Island, here we come."
Standing next to the bed Cecelia turned her back to me. She'd chosen to wear a family dress, handed down through several generations. Quite a lovely gown, but a trifle old fashioned in the making of it. That was the problem. No zip. Just a long row of little cunningly positioned hooks and eyes, each one having to be undone separately.
Starting at the top I went slowly down that long row, undoing every hook and eye I encountered. Every bloody one of them. What happened after that was not my fault.
Cecelia had been holding the dress to her so it wouldn't sag and it turned out that the idea was that as soon as all the hooks were unhooked I had to lift the dress up and over her head and drop it on the stand. That was no problem, lift dress, turn and lower dress onto stand, turn back to Cecelia to see her bra falling away, exposing a lovely pair of white breasts, tipped with an exquisite pink bud, leaving Cecelia standing there in a pair of white satin panties, panties that were supposed to stimulate the groom into action.
It seems that a pair of the hooks I'd unhooked were the hooks on the bra, and I deny that I undid them deliberately.
Cecelia promptly slapped her hands over her breasts, blushing. Too late, as I had already seen and admired, and an error of strategy as that wasn't what she should have been defending.
It wasn't premeditated. I just seemed to go on auto-pilot, kneeling in front of her, taking the wisp of white she still had on and removing it, even lightly slapping Cecelia's ankle to get her to lift it so I could peel it right off.
Then I rose to my feet, gently pulled Cecelia's hands away from her breasts and admired her nudity.
"You've been looking forward to this night for months," I said, my voice a silken murmur. "You're still a virgin and you've psyched yourself up for it. It would be crime to send you to a virginal bed looking like that."
The bed had already been turned down. All the occupants had to do was lie down and flick the blankets over themselves. I just eased Cecelia over to it and pushed her gently down.
She watched as I undressed, shaking her head, telling me I couldn't, she was married now, Mike was in the next room. Then it was my turn to shake my head.
"I don't care," I said, and settled onto the bed beside her.
She was still softly protesting as my hand settled on her breast, not shutting up until I closed her mouth with mine. Her protests I had noticed had all been verbal. Physically, she hadn't tried to resist in any manner whatsoever, nor did she start doing so when I started to caress her.
I took it slowly, building up excitement within her by my lips and gentle stroking hands, starting with her face, moving on to her breasts, touching and kissing, building up tactile sensations over her entire body, until finally my hand was resting on her mound, coaxing yet further excitement out of her.
I could feel the heat and dampness within her, and it wasn't long before I was rolling on top of her, nestling between her thighs and easing them further apart. Then I eased my erection against her, feeling her lips yield to the steady pressure, giving way and granting admission to her body.
Once I had started to penetrate her I just moved steadily forward, brushing past her hymen with barely a wince from her, sinking deeper into her hot moist passage.
Once we were both comfortable with my penetration of her body I started to move. For some reason I didn't want to perform any sexual gymnastics, no hard hammering of her tender young pussy, no changing of position, just a gentle and tender loving.
We moved together softly, pleasure invading us, but slowly, increasing in intensity, but slowly. We stayed together, rocking together, enjoying this first ever encounter with each others body, slowly going on and on.
It took a while, but it was still too soon when Cecelia stiffened, her eyes opening wide. "Frank?" she called as she started to shudder. I gave a hurried thrust, releasing the climax that I'd been fighting off for so long, letting it tear into me while Cecelia shuddered and clung to me.
We lay together, me just holding Cecelia while she snuggled next to me. Then she slept.
Watching her sleep, I sighed, but eventually I rose, dressed and retired to my own room, setting my alarm for early in the morning. I had to see Mike and Cecelia on their way.
I was asleep as soon as I hit the pillow, not stirring until the alarm sounded. I groaned at that, got up, dressed and headed back to the bridal suite.
I knocked at the door but, receiving no answer, I used the spare key I had and let myself in. Mike was still asleep on the couch, snoring lustily. I shook him and tried to rouse him but he didn't so much as budge. Shrugging, I left him there and went into the bedroom.
Cecelia must have heard me trying to wake Mike, as she was stirring when I walked in. She sat up, the sheet falling from her, showing her breasts were as fine this morning as I remembered from last night. She blinked at me a couple of times, and then memory surfaced. She blushed and looked down. Found she was sitting there with her breasts on display and grabbed the sheet with a strangled cry.
I said the hell with it, walked over to the bed and twitched the sheet out from her fingers, tossing it back so I could admire her. Sitting down next to her I pushed her around so she was lying on her stomach. She was starting to protest again, but I ignored that. Once she was flat on her tummy I grabbed her hips and lifted, encouraging her to bend her knees and take a kneeling position.
Cecelia was looking back at me, horrified, knowing that the way she was she was totally exposed to my gaze. I just smiled back at her. I undid my trousers and dropped them, showing I had an erection just as extreme as the one from the previous night.
"One of the first things a new bride needs to know is how to handle a morning glory," I told her, and then I was coming into her from behind, hard and fast.
The previous night had defined gentleness. This morning was the opposite. I slammed into Cecelia forcefully, driving her before me. It was quickly evident from the way she entered into the battle that she was a willing partner, and together we slammed ourselves towards a climax.
It wasn't all that long before I heard Cecelia give a strangled cry and I saw her bury her head in the pillow. I could hear muffled screams coming from her. I felt like shouting myself as I let myself go, pounding my climax into her with all the energy I could muster.
After that little effort I rushed Cecelia into the shower, harrying her to get out and dressed as she had a taxi coming. Another attempt to rouse Mike had proved futile, so I left him there.
Checking myself out of the hotel, I also settled the account for the bridal suite, although I told them that it would probably be occupied until about twelve. They were very understanding.
Shortly after that Cecelia was in her taxi, heading for the airport and her Hamilton Island honeymoon. It wasn't her fault that we couldn't wake Mike in time to make the taxi, and it would have been no fun for her to honeymoon alone. It was far too late to cancel the holiday and it had already been paid for.
I just naturally went with her.