The Double Date That Didn't End Ch. 01-02bybosombuddies©
"Oh Jesus..." my breath was weak. My words staggered and incoherent. Shane picked me up and slammed me down again. And again. Harder and harder, bouncing me on his lap.
God, this felt good. Finally, some satisfaction!
But wait, was that... music?
The voice of Bing Crosby crooned to life over the speakers. Beneath us, the ride started moving again.
"Aw, you gotta be kidding me!" Shane cried out. But I was not going to be denied.
"We still have time, we can finish," I panted. I didn't even care if it was true or not. I needed to come, and woe unto anyone who tried to stop me.
After a moment's consideration, Shane just said, "Screw it," and he went right back to fucking me. My whole world threatened to explode, and I braced my hands atop his shoulders, using my arms to help speed up our love-making as the swan-boat made its inexorable journey through the tunnel, towards the light at the end.
Moaning and groaning, we locked eyes and went into the home stretch. Shane's body tensed beneath me, his hands powerfully gripping my ass. My naked breasts slapped against his chest with every blissful thrust. The ribbon of pleasure twisting in my body became absolutely unbearable—
Shane bit down on my earlobe and exploded inside of me, his cock spasming with every powerful spurt. I came loudly, screaming, not caring if everyone in the carnival heard me.
We finally fell limp against each other, kissing tenderly in the afterglow.
"Oh shit," Shane whispered, and I spun to see that we were only seconds away from the tunnel's exit. Seconds away from everyone getting a look at our sweaty, naked bodies. Shane and I fumbled frantically around our little swan-boat, grabbing for clothing—wrangling whatever we could manage.
I didn't have time to get my blouse back on, so instead I just grabbed my leather jacket and pulled it around my bare chest to cover up.
When we emerged back into the open air, the carnival lights were blinding and the December air was freezing. By some miracle, Shane and I had gotten dressed—or at least we'd managed to cover up enough skin that we wouldn't be arrested for indecent exposure.
Tracy and Connor climbed out of the boat ahead of us, their clothes and hair in hilarious disarray. They both seemed pretty pleased with themselves.
"Oh my god!" Tracy squealed, running over to hug me excitedly. "Did we really just do that? That was totally insane! We could totally hear the two of you!"
Shane lovingly wrapped his arms around me and said, "So, time to call it a night and head back home?"
"Actually," I grinned, "first Tracy has to properly thank our wonderful ride operator for letting us stay in there so long."
CHAPTER 2 -- NO STRIPPERS!
After that Christmas Eve, everything changed for the four of us. Connor, Tracy, Ria and I became inseparable; "The Double Date That Didn't End," we liked to joke. Each of us still had our own friends and our own lives outside of one another, of course, but in that never-ending double date, we found something that we'd all been missing out on for a long time—a family.
Connor became like a brother to me, Tracy became like a sister to me, and Ria...
She and I fell for one another faster than I'd ever thought possible. At midnight the following Christmas—exactly one year after we'd first made love in that silly swan-shaped boat—I got down on my knee and proposed.
Ria responded by asking why I'd waited so long.
Because we'd first had sex on Christmas, and because I had proposed to her on Christmas, it only seemed right that Ria and I would get married on Christmas, as well. After years of dreading the holiday that reminded us of the parents we'd lost, Ria and I wanted to reclaim the date for ourselves. From this year forward, Christmas would be our anniversary; "our" holiday.
We had exactly one year to get everything sorted out.
Thing is, deciding you want to get married on the biggest holiday of the year is easy. Actually pulling it off is not. Finding a venue was a nightmare, all the vendors wanted to charge triple their usual fee, and it was a massive inconvenience for our guests—most of whom had Christmas plans of their own.
It took its toll. With less than a week to go before our wedding day, Ria and I crawled exhausted into bed and realized that we hadn't had sex even once during the entire month of December.
"Geez, it's like we're already married," Ria joked.
She curled up on her side and closed her eyes, not realizing how absurdly beautiful she looked at that moment—all cozy in her baggy flannel pajamas, the faint glow of our newly-purchased Christmas lights illuminating her through our bedroom window. I really was a lucky bastard, no question about it.
"We'll just have to make up for it on the honeymoon," I whispered, kissing my beautiful fiancé goodnight.
"Mmm, sounds good," she purred. A second later, we were unconscious.
Everything was going great for me. I was getting ready to marry the love of my life, I had awesome friends, good health, and gainful employment. There was only one, small problem. An unconsummated urge that nagged at me every single day:
Don't get me wrong, I didn't harbor any romantic feelings for the girl. Like I said, we were more like siblings than anything. But she was just so ridiculously sexy. Those eyes, that smile, that BODY...
Every day, when I went into work and sat down at the cubicle beside hers, I couldn't help but fantasize about stripping off Tracy's clothes and fucking her in the broom closet until we both passed out from exhaustion. And the fact that Ria and I hadn't slept together in a month just made matters worse.
I tried to justify to myself that it was perfectly natural for me to be attracted to a woman like Tracy—after all, she was busty and friendly and undeniably gorgeous. But it still felt wrong. Tracy wasn't just some "hot chick at the office," she was my fiancé's best friend in the world. AND she was dating Connor. The girl was 100% off-limits.
Which is why I hated the fact that I couldn't stop daydreaming about blowing my load all over her big, beautiful breasts.
The changing rooms at our local Frederick's of Hollywood were not designed to accommodate two people, but Tracy refused to leave my side. The girl took her role as Maid of Honor very seriously.
"I am not wearing this," I laughed, blushing at the way I looked in the ridiculous wedding-night lingerie my friend had chosen for me.
"But you totally pull it off! What are you so shy about?"
For the record, I am not shy about my body, and Tracy knew it. I used to work with her at Hooters, for Christ's sake. But I have my limits, and the outfit my friend had picked out went way past them.
The bottoms weren't too bad—some skimpy lace panties with a faux bridal-veil perched atop my butt. They were actually kind of cute. But the top? I don't even know where to start. There was no "bra" to speak of—just two tiny sheets of diaphanous white lace that tied together above my cleavage and draped down over my breasts. A good sneeze, and I'd be completely topless.
I rolled my eyes at Tracy, "It's like you stole the curtains from Mickey Mouse's hotel room."
"Pshh! You just don't realize how lucky you are that you even have the option of wearing sexy underwear like this. Most places don't even MAKE bras in my size, and when they do, they're always these stupid boring beige things."
"That's because girls with boobs like yours don't need any extra help getting a boy's attention. Putting a sexy bra on you would be like murdering a fly with a bazooka." I stole a quick glance at her chest. "Actually, make that two bazookas."
"Come on, this is for your wedding night! You said you want Shane to be the horniest he's ever been."
"Yeah, but this isn't sexy, it's a costume! I don't want Shane to laugh at me when he sees it."
Tracy's smile turned naughty. "You know what I think? I think there's only one way to settle this. We need to get a man's opinion."
I saw where her train of thought was heading and I adamantly shook my head: "NO. No way! Not in a million, zillion years."
"I'm not talking about in a million years, sweetie. I'm talking about this afternoon."
I still can't believe I went along with it.
Two hours later, from my hiding place in Tracy's bedroom, I could hear the front door swing shut as Connor got home from his training at the police academy.
"Okay, so what's this surprise you mentioned?" I heard him ask.
"I think you're gonna like it," Tracy teased, "We need your help with something."
Connor's footsteps stopped in their tracks.
"What do you mean, 'we?'" he asked.
Oh god, I thought. What have I gotten myself into? My hands were shaking uncontrollably, so I quickly re-positioned myself on the bed to hide them from view. I felt like I was gonna pass out.
Was I really gonna let Connor see me like this? Sure, I'd secretly enjoyed the admiring look in his eyes all those times he'd seen me in my swimsuit over the past two years, but THIS? This was something else entirely. This was me, putting my practically naked body on display for him.
It's not that I was shy about Connor seeing me in my wedding night lingerie. Like I said, I'm not a particularly shy girl. No, the real problem was just how badly I wanted him to look at me. I wanted Connor to stare at my breasts and gawk at my butt and spend sleepless nights dreaming that he was fucking me in a hot tub.
And, deep down, I secretly maybe wanted even more. I got wet just thinking about it.
What can I say? Connor's a stud. For the past two summers, whenever he'd been checking me out in my bikini, I'd also been ogling him in his swimsuit. I never told Tracy about my sexual obsession with her boyfriend, but I suspected she knew. Whenever Tracy and I would get together and swap stories about our sex lives, her descriptions of Connor's aggressive, athletic behavior in the bedroom always sent me home horny as hell.
And in a few seconds, Connor was going to walk inside this room and find me stretched out across his bed, waiting for him.
Outside the door, his footsteps resumed and I instinctively crossed my legs, hoping to hide how damp my little lace panties were getting. Too late to back out now.
The bedroom door swung open and Connor froze at the sight of me. I'd expected him to smile, or crack some sort of a joke to break the ice—but he just stood there, drinking in the view. His expression looked almost sad. Sad and adorable and HUNGRY. Like those orphaned puppies on the adoption commercials.
"Wow," he said at last.
Tracy slipped her arm through his and asked, "Well, what do you think? Would Shane like it?"
"Just to be sure, maybe you should get a closer look," Tracy teased, gesturing for him to approach the bed.
I held my breath as the object of so many fantasies padded across the room towards me. He kept his hands firmly at his sides, fighting the urge to reach out and grab me—though at that moment I secretly wished he would. I couldn't help myself from glancing down as he got close, blushing once I laid eyes on the big, thick outline of his erection.
Connor's weight on the bed beside me caused the mattress to shift, and the motion sent my unsupported breasts swinging out the sides of the top, briefly exposing them to his gaze. The man's eyes swelled with lust as he leaned in to ogle my barely-covered chest—so close that his excited breath actually sent ripples through the lace.
"You look amazing," he whispered.
"Maybe you should touch her," I heard Tracy say as she watched from the doorway. "You know, to make sure that the fabric has a nice texture."
What the hell was she getting at? She actually wanted her boyfriend to touch me? I started to suspect that this was as much of a turn-on for her as it was for Connor and me.
"Would that be okay?" Connor asked. His usual smile had returned, confident and horny.
"I guess a little bit of touching wouldn't hurt," I sighed.
Connor's big, strong hands reached down and he cupped my barely-covered ass. I knew it was wrong, but I couldn't deny the surge of heat between my legs as his fingertips trailed appreciatively along the edge of my panties.
"You're sure you don't mind this?" he asked.
"Of course I don't mind!" I panted. "It's not like we're having sex, right? We're all friends. Shouldn't we all be comfortable around each other?"
Connor nodded, and raised his other hand to feel the shape of my breast, through the lace.
I shivered, my nipples aching for him to close that final inch and put them in his mouth...
He pursed his lips and let his face drift towards my breasts—but at the last second he stopped, blinking back to reality. Suddenly self-conscious, Connor pulled away.
"Um, yep!" he laughed, yanking his hand off my ass like it was made of kryptonite. "The fabric has a good texture! I think you ladies have picked a winner here. Poor Shane is gonna blow his load the second he sees you like this."
He hopped off the bed. I couldn't decide whether to be relieved or disappointed. I'd wanted him so badly, I was out of my mind—even with Tracy right there in the room with us. Thank god he hadn't actually tried anything, I'm not sure I would have had the willpower to hold him off.
He hurried out of the bedroom.
"Where are you going?" Tracy called after.
"Cold shower!" he shouted back. The bathroom door slammed shut.
Tracy pointed smugly at the lingerie I was barely wearing:
"Told you so."
"I can't believe you asked him to touch me," I moaned, rubbing my legs together.
"Hey, you get my man all turned on, and I get to reap the rewards after you go home. Besides, it's not like you were exactly fighting him off, with your 'Oh no, Connor, I don't mind you touching my ass. We should all be COMFORTABLE around each other, don't you think?'"
I bit my lip and blushed.
On the other side of the wall, the shower switched on. I couldn't help but picture Connor standing naked beneath the spray, trying to bring down the raging erection I had inspired.
Fuck this. I grabbed my purse and slipped on my shoes.
"Give me your rain coat," I demanded of Tracy. "The big one."
Confused, Tracy went to her closet and retrieved the desired garment. I stripped off all the lingerie and cinched the raincoat closed to hide my nakedness.
"Where are you going?" Tracy asked.
"Home. I'm gonna fuck my fiancé into a damn coma."
I practically kicked down the front door in my hurry to get to Shane. He had just gotten home from the office, and he looked bushed—but whatever work-related stress he was feeling disappeared as soon as he saw the fire in my eyes.
"Everything alright, honey?" he asked.
"No, everything is most certainly not alright," I growled.
"What's wrong," I said, untying my belt, "is that I need to get laid right now, and you've still got all your fucking clothes on."
I let Tracy's raincoat fall to the floor, exposing my completely naked body to his eyes.
Okay, technically I wasn't completely naked. I still had on my sneakers, which in retrospect probably ruined the aesthetic somewhat. But Shane didn't seem to care. His eyes lit up like a kid who just found out he'd be getting his Christmas presents five days early.
I attacked him, ripping open his shirt and licking his chest while I shoved my trembling hand inside the waistband of his pants, feeling him harden in my grasp. Shane responded instinctively, raising his fingers to my dripping wet cunt and rubbing until I was whimpering in horny desperation.
As a lover, my fiancé usually preferred to take his time in the bedroom—really putting in the effort to do things properly so that we were both completely satisfied—but he could see how horny I was and he wasn't gonna make me wait a second longer.
I spun around and dropped to all fours, presenting Shane with my drum-tight ass—his personal favorite part of my body.
"Damn," he whistled. Then he kicked off his slacks and underwear, dropped to his knees, and teasingly slid his already rigid cock up and down the inside of my thigh.
"I want you to be rough," I purred.
With a twinge of guilt, I imagined it was Connor doing everything, not my fiancé. It was Connor's cock that I felt rubbing up against me. It was Connor leaving that slick trail of pre-cum on my skin as he moved closer and closer to my core.
I moaned loudly as Connor finally pushed his entire length inside me.
Shane! I mean Shane, not Connor.
He fucked me hard and fast, grunting like an animal. I felt both his hands reach around to paw at my tits while his pelvis collided again and again with my ass.
My own fingers became a blur on my clit and I let myself go—let the forbidden fantasy overwhelm me—crying and groaning and making a complete mess of my hair. Connor rolled me over and pinned me to the carpet, thrusting back inside of me.
I mean Shane!
His body raged against mine. Harder and harder. Filling me, holding me—the rapture in his eyes—my fingernails at his back—
"Aaah!" I screamed, delirious. "Harder! Yes! Yes! Fuck me, Connor! Oh! Connor! Connor!" I came so hard I could barely breathe.
When the fugue of my climax finally faded, I looked up into my lover's incredible blue eyes and realized—with abject horror—what had just happened. I'd called out another man's name during sex. Sex with the guy I was about to marry.
I was raising my voice again, though I didn't mean to.
"You told him we should all be 'comfortable' around each other? What does that even mean?"
"I was nervous!" Ria sobbed. "I was horny and I was nervous and I was trying to kill some of the tension in the room."
"It's okay, I'm not mad. I just—"
"I'm so sorry!"
I knew that I shouldn't be letting the situation upset me as much as it was. I wanted to sit down next to Ria and give her a reassuring hug, but for some reason I couldn't quite bring myself to. Instead, I just kept talking, trying to sound as level-headed as possible as I paced around the room:
"Listen, I get it. You fantasized about an attractive guy. It's no big deal. It's not like we magically stopped noticing that other good-looking people exist the moment I put that ring on your finger, right? I mean, sometimes I fantasize about other attractive women. Seriously, no harm done."
Ria looked up at me, pleading. Her dark eyes were still wet with tears.
"Do you still want to marry me?" she whispered. I took a deep breath and finally found the strength to sit back down beside her.
"Of course I do."
I'd like to say that was the end of it; that I immediately forgave Ria's harmless illicit fantasy and moved on. But it wasn't quite that simple.
Not that I didn't try. I kept telling myself that I had nothing to be angry about. It's not like Ria had been unfaithful to me—quite the opposite, in fact. Sure, she'd sort of encouraged Conner to feel her up, but it would be a lie to claim I hadn't wanted to do the exact same thing to Tracy on countless occasions. Hell, just two months earlier Tracy and I had gotten pretty flirty during our Halloween party, with her cuddling up on my lap while I blatantly stared down the neckline of her slutty I Dream of Jeannie costume.
Nevertheless, I couldn't let it go. So the following day, when Connor asked me for the fiftieth time what kind of stripper I wanted him to hire for my bachelor party, I finally snapped:
"Jesus Christ, how many times do I have to say it? No strippers!"
For a second, he looked at me like I was a crazy person, but then apparently he decided I was joking and playfully slugged me in the shoulder.
"That's not your decision to make, dude! I'm the Best Man, I plan the bachelor party!"