Best Man

All characters in this story are consenting adults over the age of 18 years.

This is a submission for "Summer Lovin Contest." Please enjoy this story and all of the other submissions. Please remember to vote!

I never thought that I'd be at a bachelorette party a week before my forty second birthday.

My college roommate, who I consider my sister, called me three months ago and told me she was getting married. Now, we were in a bar off Broadway in downtown Nashville tossing back shots while similar groups of women around us did the same. Emily tossed her head back and gave a hard belly laugh at the punchline of a joke. I tossed back another shot.

The wedding was in two days, so everything was compressed. To make things a little worse, we were in the hottest Nashville summer in years, and stepping out of an airconditioned building was a challenge to comfort. It made planning the weekend difficult. The bachelorette party Thursday, rehearsal dinner Friday, and wedding on Saturday. That's what happens when you're an adult, life intrudes into private moments. The women at the table, we were all about the same age, had jobs, some had families and kids, and could not afford a lot of time away from life.

I'm lucky. I teach third graders and was in the last weeks of summer break. The days were long and hot, but I was still off for a two more weeks before back to the classroom and trying to reign in two dozen eight-year-olds for seven hours a day.

Four hours later I stumbled into a king size bed with Emily. For the night all of us were at a suite hotel with two bedrooms, and Emily and I were sharing a bed. I had stopped drinking hours earlier, but still was certain I'd be hungover in the morning. We had talked all of the time, and with the wedding plans, we were on the phone almost nightly. Since I live in Nashville, I was the person in charge for most of the small arrangements. I had the summer off, and I had the time to do it.

We had not talked about me much lately in the run up to the wedding. In the dark, lying next to my best friend, I rattled off the demise of the last three relationships.

"I thought Kyle was going to work out."

"So, did I. And I know I shouldn't have done it, but one day when he was out for a run, he had left his phone at the apartment, and got a text. And I opened it. Some chick showing her boobs. And I looked at the stream of texts and there were pictures they had sent back and forth. His dick. Her boobs. Her legs spread."

"That prick. I am so sorry."

"Well, I found out early, that's all that matters." Even if I did violate his privacy.

We turned the conversation to good thoughts, of her wedding in two days, their planned, brief honeymoon, and living happily ever after until we fell asleep.

Friday the bridal party continued with a few more activities. We went to a winery tour and lunch. It was a sunny day, a great day for sun dresses and big floppy hats and we enjoyed being outside before it got hot. We spent some time in the afternoon at a lingerie shop. Emily chose a cute, sheer heart-print baby doll with a blue thong. At the wedding rehearsal I met the best man, the groom's father. Jake was tall, thin, with a narrow face and blue grey eyes just like his son.

"You're Emily's best friend, aren't you," he said. "She talks more about you than she does Will. Feels like I've known you for years."

"Well, I hope she only told the good parts."

"There were bad parts? Do tell." He laughed and threw his head back. "Emily's an incredible young woman and I'm certain you are too."

It had been a while since I had been called a young woman, but I took it in stride.

I tucked my arm in his, I grasped his muscular biceps, and we made our entrance toward Emily's uncle.

The good thing about weddings and rehearsals is that the performance is short, simple, and repetitive. Emily's Uncle had become an ordained officiant and the total party was limited to three bridesmaids and groom's men, the couple and Will's mother, in addition to his father as the best man. His parents were divorced, but they seemed to get along, and I saw them talking to each other during the time at the event center.

We ran through the entire ceremony twice in thirty minutes, and were ready to go dinner. We went to an Italian Bistro with a private room. The wait staff was attentive and kept the food and drinks coming. I sat next Jake for the evening. Emily and Will made the rounds a couple of times, making sure everyone was happy and fed.

"Look at you two, getting along," Emily said. "I've heard of weddings with fights within the wedding party so I'm glad things are working out."

We had a good time. Sort of like a date after a Bumble meet. But way more fun, because there were no pressures or expectations. Jake had taught economics at a community college and retired the year before; he taught an online class now for a couple of different schools. We discussed teaching third graders and college freshmen and sophomores and concluded there was not a lot of difference. During dinner, we made toasts, laughed at bad jokes and puns, and posed for a wedding party picture.

Before we were getting ready to leave, as everyone was finishing desert, Jake stood and made a toast to the couple. Wishing them endless happiness and surprises in their life together.

Everyone was headed off to their hotel, I was going to head home and sleep in my own bed. I gave Will a hug, hugged and kissed Emily on the lips. I whispered in her ear "You know as the maid of honor I have to remind you if you want to call the whole thing off, this is your last chance." I did an exaggerated look in both directions. "There's a cab waiting, we'll be out of here before they know we're missing." We both laughed and kissed again. I was saying good bye to the two other women in the wedding party, one of them Will's younger sister. Outside the restaurant and Jake gave me a platonic kiss on the cheek. I hugged him back.

"I enjoyed talking with you tonight," I said.

"Same here. I haven't enjoyed myself this much in quite a while. I was dreading the evening, and you are a delight."

I felt a blush. And a tingle.

He turned to leave and then returned.

"Do you want to go dancing?"

I wasn't expecting that question.

"I'm not a good dancer," he said. "But this is Nashville and I've got a list of a couple off the path bars with good dancing."

It was late. My hangover from the night before was finally starting to wane, although it would probably flare again with the drinking that night. A smarter person might have said see you tomorrow. But in that moment, I wasn't her.

A couple of minutes later we were in a Lyft and headed toward an out the way place. The cover was a couple of bucks and we found a seat close to the dance floor. The place was busy, but not crowded, it was for locals and not the tourists like the places on Broadway. The band, a cross between folk and country was lighting it up, and the dance floor was mostly empty.

Jake stood and held out his hand, took mine, and lead me to the dance floor. The lights danced on his beautiful eyes and highlighted the crinkles beneath them.

"I have a confession to make," he said. He leaned in and whispered in my ear. His breath was hot and the stubble from his beard brushed my cheek. I felt a shiver run down my back. "I'm not a great dancer."

It had been hot in Nashville that week. With the outdoor activities, the ceremony rehearsal, and the dinner I tried to dress comfortable. I had a sheer blouse and a short skirt. I'm glad I wore flats and not heels, otherwise the whole dancing thing would have been a no-go. Jake led me onto the floor, holding my hand, and put my left arm up, his right arm on my back. He closed his eyes for a moment, got the beat, and started to move me around the floor. Living in Nashville, you sort of have to know a Texas twostep if you want to go out dancing. Jake knew his, and he knew how to lead. The band played, and we managed to move around the dance floor; there were few other couples. Nothing gets me going like a man who knows how to dance, and Jake did not disappoint. His hands and direction were firm when needed, guiding me on the floor. I felt his firm upper back and he smelled great. We finished one song, before we were able to get to our table, the band started another song, and we kept going. After five songs I had to beg for a break and gulped two glasses of water in a very unladylike fashion after sitting down. I personally had enough alcohol at dinner, and was just happy to get some liquids. Jake got a beer, but left most of it. We danced until 1 AM when the band finished their last set.

I was exhausted. We had gotten up early, had done a couple of bachelorette activities, including lunch at a winery, and pictures, rehearsal and dinner. After three hours of almost non-stop dancing, my muscles were sore, but I had such great fun with Jake it was worth it.

We got a Lyft back to the restaurant, sitting close to each other, our hips touching. He held my hand in the car. Jake walked me to my car.

"Chelsea, I don't know when I've had a better time. If I were twenty years younger, you'd be in trouble."" I felt my face scrunch as I cocked my head. "Every young guy after you would have to contend with me."

I acted before thinking.

I leaned forward and kissed him, a chaste kiss on the lips, one designed to leave the recipient wanting more.

"As a friend has frequently told me," I said, standing on my toes and leaning in close, ''Age is just a number.'" I kissed him again.

I leaned in and hugged him, he was slightly taller, and I relished he firm grip around me for a moment. He walked toward his car, and I drove home.

I had been up almost eighteen hours by time I got home, but still had a buzz. I know it was my imagination, but I still smelled Jake's skin and tasted his lips. I drank three glasses of water, took two aspirin to prevent a hangover. The honkytonk was smoke free, but must have passed people on the street who were smoking, and had the smell on my clothes. Also, I had been running around outside and then dancing, I had perspired and just wanted to get clean. I stripped off my clothes and threw them in the laundry basket; I climbed in the shower.

I imagined Jake as my age, but could never get the image. At 66, he was well built, agile, and charming. He had a confidence without being cocky. And he could dance. I rubbed my fingers across my lips trying to mimic the touch of his lips. I scrubbed my hair, rinsed, applied the conditioner. I turned away from the water and let it hit my shoulders and back, hoping to work out any soreness from all of the dancing. I soaped my hands, bent over and started at my calves and worked the lather up my body. As my fingers brushed over my nipples a spark tinged and seemed to go straight to my pussy. I did it again, slower this time, rubbing my slippery, soapy fingers and hands across my nipples, tweaking them touching and twirling them and was surprised by the exquisite sensation that went through my body and settled at my pussy. I snuck my hand lower, slipping my fingers between my pussy lips, the warm water allowing my fingers to slide over my vulva, centering over my clit. I closed my eyes and saw Jake dancing with me, his hand resting on my bare flesh, the rhythm of the music again in my ears. I used my middle finger, the water washing over my body, pushing on my clit, rubbing it in a circle, around the edge, closer to the core, increasing the pressure and the tempo until an incredible sensation like a warm wave started at my clit, engulfed my bottom and washed down my legs. I leaned against the wall in the shower, my heart beating fast, my breath a little ragged as I slipped a finger inside myself and felt the last waves of contractions in my pussy.

That night I slept the best I had in weeks.

I was back at the venue at 9 AM.

"Well, look at you, all refreshed and perky."

It was Nicole, Jake's daughter and Will's younger sister. Emily had said she wasn't particularly close to her, she lived in Oregon, but added her to the wedding party due to the small size and to build a rapport with her. She was married and had two kids. She had audibly gasped when Emily had tried on the baby doll and thong the day before at the lingerie shop. But maybe that goes with the territory with an eight- and ten-year-old running around the house all day. She was pretty with short blond hair, but had been constantly texting and face timing with her husband for her two kids at home rather than engaging with the rest of us.

"Got a good night sleep."

"So, did I. Had the bed all to myself, no husband, dogs, kids. What about you?"

The question flew at me with a barb and some venom. It was strange, because we had only exchanged a few superficial words the day before.

"Just me and the cat, and she gets the other pillow," I said. I have enough friends, and turned to find Emily.

"Did you go somewhere with my father last night?"

The smile was gone. There was an edge to her voice.

"We went dancing."

"Dancing? Really, you expect me to believe that?"

"Well, it's the truth. Your choice whether or not to believe it."

"Why would he go out dancing with you? And what are you doing with a man old enough to be your father?"

"If you have questions for your father, ask him."

The conversation rattled me for the rest of the morning. Nicole was nothing to me, and after the wedding I'd never see her again. But I don't like my decisions and actions, when they only affect me, questioned by others. Emily found me a short while later.

"Everything okay?" I said I was. "You look like you want to slap someone."

I closed my eyes for a moment, let out a signal breath, and smiled.

"I'm great. And you're even better because in about eight hours you'll be married."

She gave me a hug.

We had a good time at the spa, with manicures and pedicures. I usually get neither. No one sees my feet, and with blackboards, kids zippers and work projects manicured nails wouldn't last a week. The afternoon flew by, and we were getting dressed for the ceremony. I avoided Nicole and stayed near Emily. We made our way from the dressing rooms and to the venue.

It was done up nice with tasteful, simple decorations. There were a couple of video cameras to livestream it. Will's mother, who arrived late Friday night right before the rehearsal, stood in the back. Emily's parents are both gone, as our mine, and I consider her family.

I stepped behind her and wrapped my arm around her. I leaned into her ear.

"I love you so much. You're going to have a wonderful rest of your life."

Music started to play and Will's mother made her way down the aisle. Nicole walked away with a groomsman. Jake stepped up to me and I put my arm in his.

"You are just ravishing. In case anyone forgot to tell you that today."

We made our way to the front of the room and parted. To be honest, the ceremony was a blur and the whole thing was over in about twenty minutes. We filed out and greeted attendees as they left. I saw Nicole take her father's hand and lead him away and out of sight.

"Do you know what they're talking about?"

Will's mother, Barbara, was behind me. A short woman with auburn hair, she had stern eyes and was not smiling.

"I'm Chelsea; I don't think we've been introduced."

"I know who you are."

"Well, then, I'm no one's keeper and I have no idea where they went or what they're discussing." She looked me up and down. "Nice meeting you. And congratulations on Will's marriage. Let me tell you, there isn't a better woman on the planet. And she feels the same way about your son."

The world is a different place now. The wedding, as originally planned, was going to have a couple hundred attendants -- it's not every day that two never married forty-year-olds find each other. Instead, it was about twenty people, mostly local, and the wedding party. It was late afternoon, and after some photos in various combinations, we made our way to a small reception. Champagne, cold local beer, and hot chicken were on the menu. After about a half an hour of Emily and Will making the rounds with the guests, music started playing and they made their way to the center of the room. The music was soft and in the background and then amplified as they started dancing around the room. Emily had told me that they had taken lessons for weeks trying to get the steps down.

They then swapped off and Will danced with his mother and Emily with Jake. More people joined the floor.

"Shall we?"

Jake had his hand out, palm up. I took it and he led the way. We picked up where we had finished the night before. The music was a jumble of old rock and roll, pop songs, R and B played one after another. Whenever I thought we were going to sneak off the floor, Jake would grab my hand, find the rhythm, and we'd dance another. After eight songs, I begged off for a breather and after slugging down a couple of waters made my way to the ladies' room to freshen up.

As I stood at the sink trying to blot perspiration without ruining what little makeup was left. The door closed and in walked Nicole.

"So, are you a bitch or a fucking bitch?"

The joy of teaching third graders is that they have a limited vocabulary. Every now and then there is a curse word, but most of the time they're pretty good. Not so much with adults. I was a little slow on my response.

"Well?" she said.

"Nicole, I don't know what is your problem. Or issues. I just hope I never become you."

"Well, I don't have daddy issues."

The key thing I teach my kids is know when to walk away. That's what I did.

There was a back exit to the building and I strolled out. It was the second story, an open area overlooking the street and neighborhood. My skin twitched a bit, moving from the air-conditioned hall to the late afternoon heat of a southern summer. The sun was low in the sky, but angled between the trees just right to still provide a beam of heat on me.

"Does it help if I apologize for my daughter?"

Jake's voice startled me.

He was standing four feet away, hands in his pockets, his tie loosened. He was smiling, his eyes bright and warm. The late afternoon sun brushed across his face.

"I think we need to responsible for ourselves and not apologize for the actions of others."

"I agree. But I'm trying to score some points with the best-looking woman in that room." He nodded back to the building. "That way, she might say yes to dinner tonight, maybe dancing again. Maybe more."

"More?" I stepped closer. "What's more?"

"Maybe a kiss."

My mouth was dry and I stepped closer. I leaned in and kissed him on his lips, brushing them across his, smelling his skin, feeling the heat off his chest as we stood in the humid Nashville afternoon.

"Like that?"

He closed his eyes and moaned.

"Or maybe this?"

I closed the distance, leaning in a bit, making sure he could feel my breasts against his chest, placing my hands above his waist. Kissing him, probing his mouth with my tongue, allowing his to slip into my mouth, leaning into him harder, gripping his flesh, pulling his hips toward me.

"Never in my wildest thoughts these past two days could I have imagined that kiss," he said.

"Well, I do a lot of things well, and kissing is only one of them."

"Do you want to blow this popsicle stand?"

"It's my friend and your son getting married. I think we need to be the voice of reason."

"I knew you were going to say that."

He grabbed my hand and lead me back into the reception.

The party was winding down, most of the guests had left or were saying good bye. Emily and Will were at the door, sending people off. We walked up to them, holding hands. Will cocked his head at his father and smiled. Emily gave me a big grin.