Wedding Bells

This is a work of erotic fiction. It is not meant to be and should not be read by minors or individuals who do not enjoy erotic writings.

PART ONE

I don’t normally drink hard liquor, but this had been a hell of a day, and as far as I could see, it isn’t going to pick up soon. So I checked in at the hotel, got my room key, sent my bags up to my room and looked for the hotel bar. The lobby was a mess as I worked my way through it. It was obvious to me that I wasn’t the only stranded person in Chicago tonight. The bar was much bigger than I expected. I don’t know why, I had no experience in hotel bars. I expected, for some strange reason, a small place, much more intimate than this, with a bunch of guys drinking at the bar. This one even has a dance floor. Booths surrounded the room, broken by the bandstand directly opposite from the large and ostentatious bar. The place was practically empty but I immediately envisioned a crowded dance floor and rocking music and I decided I’d come back later to see if that was so. For all I knew, maybe the action had been in bygone years and the place was a bust now.

There was, at least, a bartender behind the bar. He glanced up at me then went back to his duties and his conversation with the one young man in a “brooks Brothers” suit sitting on a stool at the bar drinking a drink. There were two men sitting at a booth with so many papers on the table there was hardly room for the two glasses of drink they had before them. I could see no waitress. But obviously someone had waited on the two men in the booth so I figured the waitress would be right back or the bartender doubled and waited tables too.

It seemed so incongruous, this huge room with no waitress, so empty. I almost didn’t enter, but finally I did walk to a table and sat down, placing my small bag on the table. I didn’t know if it would be lady like to sit at the bar or not knowing nothing of Chicago etiquette. I opened my purse, for my compact, to check my make up, which had survived very well, considering.

You see, I’d just flown from Ft. Lauderdale to Chicago into a snowstorm. I’m headed to my wedding tomorrow evening in Seattle, and it’s beginning to look like I’m not going to make it. I’d been debating calling to let my husband to be know of the problem, or chancing that the weather would clear by tomorrow when I’d spied the bar.

When I’d landed, and we’d found out that no one was leaving Chicago that night, there had been a scramble by the airlines to get everyone rooms. The hotels near the airport had disappeared quickly. I’d finally been placed at a quaint but upscale hotel, downtown, near the loop.

I looked up as someone cleared their throat near me. I laughed. I couldn’t help it. It was the young man in the “Brooks Brothers’s”suit. He was wearing a traditional white shirt but with a truly outlandish tie. On his feet were expensive Bally boots. What made me laugh was that he had a bar rag over his left suit arm and he had the silliest grin on his face..

He said, cutting off my laughter, “Hi there,” then beamed real big. “The waitress isn’t in yet, but you’re much too beautiful to sit at the bar with us common folk.”

He looked so silly.

“I do have some experience at this,” he continued. “I did wait tables when I was in school, whenever that was. So, what can I get you, do for you or do to you, not necessarily in that order?”.

“That rag really makes your suit, you know.” He joined my in good natured laugh. I continued, “Tell you what, I’ll come sit at the bar with you. That way I won’t put anybody out.”

He smiled, “Not only are you beautiful, you’re considerate too.”

He followed me and my purse to the bar. I sat down near him, but not next to him. I placed my purse on the seat beside me, between me and him.

The bartender looked up from washing some glasses and smiled. “What can I get you, Miss?”

“Sapphire and tonic, twist of lime,” I responded.

He began mixing my drink. He spoke over his shoulder, “You two sure you two don’t know each other? You drink the same thing.”

“Yeah” Brooks Brother’s says, “Those that drink together, you know.”

The bartender gave me my drink. I smiled at BB, “Drinking the same drink, not yet drinking together.”

“Ha! Ha! The lady has sharp tongue, and uses it well,” he said, and toasted me.

I raised my glass to him, then took a drink.

BB continued, naturally, “You stranded here too?”

I looked up, surprised, “Yeah, you too?”

“Yeah,” he says, “why not me too?”

“Well,” and I motioned at his Brooks Brothers, “you’re dressed for work, aren’t you, even with that tie.” I giggled despite myself.

“You making fun of my tie?” He held it out? “My favorite tie. My good luck tie?” Then he leans over to me, confidentially, as if anyone is going to hear in this empty joint. “It’s a long story. Why I’m dressed like this, and me from out of town, stranded here in Chicago in a snow storm. If we had the time, I’d love to tell it to you. Maybe when we’re alone some time.”

I laughed, “I’m sure it’s a wonderful story.”

“I don’t know, just in a hurry to get out of town. As it turns out, there wasn’t any reason to rush. I’m not going to make it my appointment anyway.”

“Me, either, it seems. Let’s drink to that.” I responded and lent over to clink his glass with mine, conscious, belatedly, that he could see down my dress from his angle, and my unfettered breasts were probably surely in his line of vision.

“Here, here,” he cheered, and that was picked up by the bartender. If he noticed my flagrant, if unintentional display, I realized suddenly he was too much of a gentleman to embarrass me with a public announcement.

I’d finished my drink, so I handed the bartender a twenty. He went to make change.

I turned to BB, “Nice talking to you. I’m gonna go take a nap now. I’m exhausted, and I think that drink went straight to my head, which I intended it too.”

“Nice to meet you. What’s your name, anyway? I can’t call you fellow strandee all night, can I?”

“Sarah,” I responded. “And yours?”

“Sam,” he responded, turning to look off behind the bar at the threatening sky. “Maybe we’ll see each other again if this weather persists.”

“Yeah, probably so,” I responded.

The bartender brought my change. I left him a good tip, smiled goodbye to Sam, and left the bar. I felt his eyes on my back, or my butt maybe, until I was out of sight. I didn’t turn around. I went straight to my room. I showered, dried off and dumped my weary body into bed. My last thoughts, just as sleep claimed me, were of Sam’s smile. I clutched the extra pillow to me and hugged it to sleep.
PART TWO

I woke with a start, shuddering.. I rolled over, felt for, then switched on the bed side lamp. A hotel room. I remembered. It was really strange coming awake in a strange room, waking in the dark.

I was starving. I found my watch. It was only eight o’clock at night. Surely the dining room would be open. I went into the bath and washed my face. I debated. The restaurant or room service. I decided I’d go downstairs to eat. First, I needed to call Ronald to let him know the wedding may not happen on time.

Ronald is older than I, substantially older, but I’m not marrying him for his money if that’s what you’re thinking. I love him, and I’m tired of being alone, one night affair’s. I teach at a college in Southern Florida. I should say I taught there until recently. Ronald coming into my life, my moving to Seattle, my marrying him, comes after too many sordid affairs. Too many married men I was not married to. It was time for me to have my own man now, maybe even children of my own.

I dialed Ronald’s number by heart. He answered. He was disappointed, but had figured out the problem. We spoke for 15 minutes. The wedding plans were put off for a day. They would be for another day if necessary.

“I’ve got to go downstairs and get something to eat,” I told him.

“Don’t they have room service in. those Chicago Hotels?”

“Oh, yes, but I’ just have to get out of this room for a while.”

He chortled into the phone, “well, just remember, Sarah darling, you’ve had your freedom extended for a few days so you do what makes you happy. Just don’t do anything you won’t tell me about.”

“Why Ronald, I didn’t know you were this lenient, and such a pervert too.”

His laugh was rumbling over the phone lines. I wanted to see him so. He said, “well, you never know what I might get into, Sarah. I’d been thinking I’d be getting into you, my dear, but looks as if that’s delayed too.”

“Yes. I have been thinking about that too. We’ve got to stop this conversation. You’re going to make me wet. I’m going to go down and get something to eat.”

We said goodby and I dressed. Carefully. It honestly never occurred to me to wonder why.

I had put on my slinkiest dress and I noticed lots of men glancing, but that didn’t interest me. I wasn’t looking for a man, was I? I didn’t see Sam, Cutie, Brooks Brothers.

After dinner I wandered through the lobby and read a magazine. Then, bored, I moved to the sound of music wafting down the hallway. Toward the sound of laughter. To the flashing lights of that dance floor I’d seen earlier. To the same room I’d last seen Sam. Cutie. Brooks Brothers.

PART THREE

The bar, dance hall, pick-up joint, whatever you wanted to call it, was packed. Overflowing I walked into the room and watched the swaying, undulating couples on the dance floor. It was amazing the dancers could identify their own undulating partner in the melee.

I looked around. There was no place to sit, in the booths, at the tables, or at the bar.. You couldn’t even get to the bar. Men were standing two deep around it. I looked for, but didn’t see Sam.

Some guy got up from the bar and someone motioned me to one of the seats just as I was thinking about walking out. I changed my mind and grabbed the seat just in the nick of time. I ordered a Saphine and tonic from a new bartender. The one who’d been here before was obviously off shift now.

The bar was loaded with guys. I saw one woman across the way with a crowd of guys around her, all vying for her attention. When my drink was delivered, I paid, then looked around. There was a crowd around me now, all vying for my attention. Everyone was talking to me at once. I couldn’t even discern the words they were uttering. I just keep shaking my head and sipping my drink.

The dance floor was packed. Someone asked me to dance. I said no. Someone else, then someone else. I was beginning to get upset when I looked up and saw Sam staring at me. He motioned for me to leave the stool and go with him. I thought, I’ll lose my seat, but then realized it wasn’t a seat I wanted anyway. I reached across the guys and took Sam’s hand. I heard all those left behind moan and gripe as I was led away.

“Boy, I’m glad to see you,” I admitted to him, as Sam led me to a booth he was sharing with another couple.

“Sarah, this is Joe and Selma. They are trapped here too. Joe and Selma, Sarah, another of us. I met her earlier when the place was a little quieter.”

I shook hands with the couple and we sat down, “Where are you too coming from,” I asked as I sat down.

“Minneapolis.” Selma said. If I’d heard her speak before I wouldn’t have had to ask. She was obviously the group talker, “we’re headed to Fargo to pick up our kids. They are with our parents.”

I smiled at her.

She continued, “Okay hubby, let’s dance.”

She took Joe’s hand and stood. As she led him over to me, Sarah leaned over and whispered, indicating Joe, “he didn’t want to leave Sam alone.”

She laughed as she led Joe onto the dance floor. .

Sam turned to me, “Aren’t they cute?”

I laughed, because cute was the moniker I’d given him. “Yes, they are. But, poor kids.”

Sam laughed. “Yeah, exactly.”

A waitress approached our table. I ordered another Gin and Tonic because I’d left my last at the bar. Sam was nursing his.

“So,” he asked, “how did you sleep?”

“Well, what about you?”

He smiled that smile, “I slept too.”

The waitress brought my drink. Sam insisted on paying for it.

“O.K., I said, “but next rounds on me,”

He shrugged his shoulders, “I called my airline. They say we might be able to get out of here tomorrow.”

“Are you missing anything important?”

He shrugged. “Just a family thing.”

“Hey, don’t complain. I was an only child and my parents are dead now.”

“You miss them, hug?”

I smiled at him, he has soft looking lips, “Yeah. I do. I guess I should check with the airline too. I’m just so mellow now, after that crush at the airport, and then the bar. Thanks for saving me.”

“”No problem. I’m glad I saved you too.”

He sipped at his drink, “That was quite a scene. I couldn’t figure out if they were trying to impress you or just outtalk each other.”

“Yeah, it’s like some kind of mania.”

“Looked to me,” he looks up and smiled that smile, ”as if I spoiled they’re day.”

I laughed.

“Do you dance?”

“Sure. But not with all of them,” I responded. I didn’t really know exactly how that sounded till after I’d said it. Sam’s smile was big and I know he’d taken that as a compliment I hadn’t meant to give. I didn’t want to lead him on. I continued, “and I didn’t want to dance in that mess out there.” I concluded, waving at the mass on the dance floor.

“Yeah,” Sam said. “Maybe it’ll calm down later.”

“I doubt it, doesn’t look like it“ I said.

Sam was now dressed casually. Slightly rumpled as I thought might be in style these days. We sat and drank our drinks and watched the people. I’ve always been a people watcher and it seemed as if Sam was either one too or he was lost in his thoughts.

Suddenly a modern and very fast dance sounded from the band and half or more of the dancers left the floor. Our two table mates slid back into their side of the booth.

“Too much for me,” Selma explained.

Sam looked at me, “can you do this,” he asked.

“Sure,” I said,

He jumped up, pulled me up, and pulled me onto the floor. We were both laughing. We did the dance. It was a really hot number and Sam was a good dancer. It was funny but I kept thinking I was hearing taps on his shoes. I had everything I could do to keep up with him.

Then they played a tango, and we got into it. Apparently the crowds were still resting. There were about a half dozen couples on the floor with us and we were all, it seemed to me, doing it well. I was so impressed with Sam. He was such a gallant dancer. I told him so at one of the moments I could breathe. He just smiled and led me into the middle of the floor. I could hear clapping now, as the other people started to notice the group of dancers doing the tango so well. I looked around me and found the other dancers had stopped now and were clapping too. For us? Wow!

Sam was so slick.

The band picked up on him and swung into a Spanish dance. He did indeed have taps on his shoes. He began to stamp, and snap his fingers in time and I just stopped dead in my tracks and moved to the sidelines as he did the fandango. Slapping his hips, stamping his feet, snapping his fingers. I joined the clappers as he did his thing, swirling and stamping his feet.. Everyone was standing now, and clapping, and Sam was dancing. He was dazzling.

It ended. Everything has to end, doesn’t it? They did a slow tune now and he took me in his arms and I put my forehead on his shoulder. The floor wasn’t too crowded at first and he led me around the room gracefully.

“That had to be a set-up,” I whispered into his shoulder.

He laughed into my ear, his hot breath ticketing my ear lobe. “Wha...?”, he whispered.

“Come on,” I said laughingly.

“Well, the bandleader spied my shoes earlier and asked me about them. I didn’t really know they were going to do it though,” he whispered.

But then it got crowded and I led him back to our table and finished my drink in one gulp.

Selma and Joe went back to the dance floor and left us alone again.

Sam drained his drink too. We looked at each other and smiled. People came by and clapped Sam on the back and shook his hand. A woman, a black woman came up to me and said, “You go girl.

I couldn’t stop smiling, and I knew I must have looked like an idiot. If so, a happy idiot. That had really been fun. I looked at the dancers jumping around for awhile but then I began to realize that Sam had eyes for only me. I tried not to notice, but I did. A girl can tell, you know.

“So,” I asked him, “is that what you do for a living.”

“You mean dance for a living? No. I’m much more boring than that.” He smiled.

“Okay, tell me about the dancing.”

“Simple. I’ve always had good timing. Well, an ex-girlfriend was a professional dancer. So I took courses and we entered some contests, that’s all.”

“Did you win?.”

“Sometimes,” he said.

“You said ex.-girlfriend. What happened to her?”

“Misha, still in New York. Still dancing. Different partners.”

“You sound a little ticked off about it to me.”

“Well, yeah. I was a little bitter, I guess.”

“Want me to ask what happened?”

He laughed. Those teeth. “She fell in love, I guess you could say.”

“Oh. Sad, huh?”

Not really. A blow to my ego maybe. But since it was with several different guys, then there wasn’t anyone for me to be mad at.”

“Ah. That is sad. I hope it doesn’t leave any scars.”

He stared at me, “No scars at all. What I need is one good night and I’ll be fine.”

I felt that one in the pit of my stomach, or lower maybe. “Well, looks like you’re having a good night to me?”

It felt like he was looking into my soul, “We’ll see as the night progresses.”

Somehow it was suddenly after midnight and the band was now doing mostly slow tunes. But the bar had cleared out by now. I guess everyone made contact with each other or whatever. I’d been asked to dance many time during the night but I refused. I know Sam liked that I refused them all.

I thought I out to leave, but looked at Sam and knew I wouldn’t, not just yet. He led me onto the dance floor again.
PART FOUR

The band was playing all slow songs now and Sam pulled me into his arms and we floated among the other couples for a while until he tired of that. He slowed, and almost stopped, almost to a standstill. We were just moving lightly to the music, he pulled me close. I hesitated. Did I want to do this? I’m supposed to be married tomorrow, well, sometime soon, I thought. Then I went to him. Amazing how easily, how quickly the thoughts faded from my mind. His body felt strong, but I didn’t feel the pushiness that I’d felt from other men in this position. I moved in closer and put my head on his shoulder. I smelled his after shave. I moved my hips to the music and I felt him grow against my stomach. It felt like steel. It felt big. It felt good. Still, we danced in place, and when the song ended I walked with him back to the table. His fly was bulged out but he didn’t seem to care. I’m not sure anyone noticed. I’m not sure I would have cared either if I were some other woman sitting at some other table. We sat down and I felt him looking at me.

“Will you stop that?”

I turned to him and he kissed me. Just a peck, but it was fire. He hung his head. “I’m sorry, but I’ve wanted to do that all night.”

I’d wanted him to do it all night too.

He looked back up at me, “you’re so beautiful.”

The words every woman waits for a lifetime to hear, then doesn’t know how to respond to them. Do I say thanks? Do I scoff? Should I be sarcastic?

Eventually I just said, “thank you.”

“I like the way the lights dance in your hair.”

I wasn’t going to keep saying thank you, but he was definitely making points.

He got us another drink. We got up and rubbed each other on the dance floor some more. We left the bar, together.

PART FIVE

In the elevator he kissed me, and I kissed him back. I melted into his arms and stuck my tongue into his mouth, searching. His tongue touched mine just as we reached his floor. I reached over and pushed the button for my floor and he pulled my ass to him as we raised two more floors. It seemed so short a time.