Mother of the Bride

"Uhhhh…" I said, and withdrew my cock until I was almost all the way out. Then I pushed myself all the way in, slowly, slowly. If the night before I had fucked Diane, now I was making love with her, relishing the closeness of our bodies, the way she looked, and the way she looked at me. The night before Diane had needed to know that a man could still find her exciting sexually. Now she needed to know a man could be in love with her. And I was.

"Diane, is it OK for me to say that I love you?" I said.

It was dark in the room but I could easily see her teeth as she smiled. "Yes, it's very OK."

"Good. I love you."

"I love you too, honey." I began moving quicker, and our mouths came together in a long, deep kiss. My penis slid all the way inside and then I pulled it out and then I moved forward again until I was all the way in again. We didn't say anything else to each other, we just came together and moved and touched each other in places men and women touch each other. She sighed when she came and I moaned quietly as I emptied myself into her for the second time. I rolled off and I wrapped myself around her again. In a few seconds we were asleep again.

I woke up around 9AM, without the hangover I expected. I felt pretty good. When I saw the woman asleep next to me, I felt…confused. I didn't know what I should feel. I lay there for a few minutes, letting my head get together, when I felt Diane stir. I closed my eyes and pretended I was asleep, to see what she would do, how she would react. What was she thinking?

I got an idea when she slid her hand down to my groin and gave my soft cock a gentle tug. I opened my eyes to see Diane looking at me with a mischievous look in her eye. "You were a bad boy last night," she said.

"And this morning," I said.

"Very bad this morning." She kept jerking me and to my surprise my penis responded, thickening under her fingers.

"Oh, yeah," I groaned, arching my back and giving her more room to fondle me. "How you feel this morning?"

"What do you mean?"

I paused. "Your head. Any hangover?"

"I feel fine. Great, even." She started running her nails up and down my penis.

"And you're feeling bad now?" I asked.

"I never knew it before, but I'm a bad girl." She laughed and pulled the sheets down and saw how erect I was. "I didn't get the chance to finish something I wanted to do last night."

"What's that?" I asked, but instead of answering she moved down to my groin with her mouth and began blowing me. "Christ, Diane," I said, feeling her mouth work on me. Her mouth was warm and moist and her tongue slid up and down and all around. She knelt on the bed so she could deep throat me easier. I looked down and saw my cock sliding in and out of her mouth. She used her fingers to spread the tip of my cockhead open and began swabbing her tongue inside the tiny hole. Christ, I'd come twice in seven hours and already she had me teetering on the brink of orgasm.

"Sit on me," I begged.

She shook her head. "You wore me out last night. But I'm hungry, and you can fill me up." She moved her mouth back onto my cock. She was sucking and sucking and sucking me and I grabbed handfuls of bedsheet in my hands and writhed as my orgasm built within me.

"God, please, suck me," I whimpered. "Yes, fuck, Diane, suck me, yes, yes!"

Just as I came she let most of me fall out of her mouth and she just kept the head in and swirled her tongue all over and jerked me with her long-nailed fingers. Her eyes were locked on mine and I lost control. My orgasm was so intense that I couldn't stop the shaking in my legs, my stomach, and as my penis fired my come into her mouth I just whimpered, "Diane, oh Diane, Diane…" She swallowed all the thin, watered down ejaculate I was able to muster, and sucked me until my cockhead grew so sensitive that I couldn't bear it.

She kissed my penis one last time and then she said, "Now you're worn out too." I managed an exhausted nod and a yawn. "God, I don't know how I'm going to manage a three-hour drive home. It's going to be a killer."

"You don't have to go today. Stay with me a few days. Can you get off work?"

I'd wondered when this might come up, how the aftermath of all this would play out. So she wanted me to stay. And I found that this delighted me. "I can stay awhile, sure. I'd love to." We kissed and I said, "I'd better get dressed and back to my room before everyone starts checking out. Let's keep this quiet."

"I totally agree!" she said, laughing. "I don't want to upstage my daughter's wedding!" I quickly dressed, we exchanged a quick kiss goodbye, and I headed back to my room. I figured we'd gotten away with it.

We didn't know it at the time, of course, but Tracy's father and Vicki had been in the room next door to Diane's. As I head about it later, the two of them got into a bit of a tiff over some of Vicki's conduct at the wedding, mostly trying to cocktease every guy at the reception. The result was no sex for them and a long, irritable conversation that went on long into the night. Long enough for them to hear their neighbors come home, and to hear me and Diane fucking each other's brains out. Mr. Moore was shocked and embarrassed by this, that his ex-wife was fucking a guy half her age and obviously loving it, and he decided not to say anything about it to anyone. He told his wife to do the same, to spare his daughter the embarrassment.

Vicki, however, didn't feel the same concern for Tracy. Tracy and Dan weren't leaving for their honeymoon until 2PM the next day so we all planned to meet for breakfast. And Vicki made sure she found the time to tell Tracy that Diane had kept them awake all night fucking one of the groomsmen. I didn't learn this until later, but at breakfast Tracy looked like she'd been hit by a brick. She made polite conversation and smiled and laughed at the right times, but there was something in the way she looked at her mother, and at me, that gave me the shivers.

And then after breakfast Tracy tersely asked me, "Can I talk to you a second, in the lobby?" I said sure and when I sat down on a sofa Diane appeared about a minute later. "Uh oh," she said. "I think we're in trouble."

"I think you're right," I said, as Tracy appeared, looking about as angry as a new bride can.

"Maybe this is none of my business," she hissed, "but on my wedding night everything is my business. Did you…" she turned to look at me, "Did you fuck my mother last night, you fucking shithead?"

There were several ways to respond to this, and none was as good as the one I chose. "No. I made love with your mother. There's a difference."

"No," Diane corrected, "the first time you fucked me. Or I fucked you. The second time we made love.:

"Yes, you're right. I agree with you there."

"What fucking difference does it make?" Tracy screeched. She lowered her voice. "How…how could you do this. How could you have sex with my mother? How could you have sex with a guy I dated?"

"Because she's gorgeous, and sexy, and smart, and kind, and because I adore her," I said.

"Because he's handsome, and strong, and gentle, and because I love him," she said.

This didn't seem to help Tracy much, so Diane continued. "We would have told you eventually, but now wasn’t the time. We're going to keep seeing each other, so get used to it." Diane stood and I did too. Diane said, "Who told you about us? I guess someone heard." And that's when Tracy told us about Vicki. Diane laughed. "Fucking cunt." Then she leaned down and kissed her daughter. "I'm sorry if you're embarrassed, honey. But don't think that I’m being stupid. I’m very happy, very, very happy."

"Me too," I said.

Tracy looked a bit better, and we wished her well and went and checked out. We went back to Diane's house, I called work to tell them I was taking a few days off, and Diane and I spend the next few days enjoying each other as much as a couple can, in and out of bed. We decided to just enjoy each other and see what path our relationship took.

For the year we were together everything was fantastic. When we eventually decided to stop seeing each other it was because of how far we lived apart, not because of the age difference. And when Diane met a doctor and got married, I was invited to her wedding too. It was tougher on me than Tracy's was, but what do they say about lost love? 'Tis better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all. True enough.