Bridesmaids

"Do you want to be Kayla's wife?"

"But I'm going home tomorrow," I noted. "How can..."

"Tell me straight!" Delia interrupted. "Do you want to be Kayla's wife? I can make it right, save face for everyone, but I need the truth."

I swallowed. "I don't know."

"How the hell can you not know?"

"It's just so, so permanent, so sudden."

Delia's breath tickled my ear as she exhaled a chuckle. "Nothing's permanent. It's just a declaration of intent. She wants you bad. The question is, do you want her?"

I moved my head away and looked to Kayla. My knees started to shake. "Yeah," I gasped. "I want her."

* * *

I had so many questions as we headed for the car, but I asked not a one of them. The dancing, the emotions, the speculation, and perhaps the alcohol too, had combined to make me weary and soon my head was sideways against the seat.

Within my slumbering mind, Melissa threw her bouquet again. This time, instead of snatching the prize, Kayla's hands shielded others from it so that the flowers fell into my waiting fingers. I turned to her. We kissed. And danced- a special tango that ended with me again on my knees, licking her.

Then we were at my apartment amid dozens of packed boxes.

"What do we need to take?" she asked.

"Nothing," I replied with a smile. "My mom will pick up the boxes- and mail the ones I care about."

We walked outside, to her motorcycle, parked in the corridor, of course. We started to ride for the stairs. Outside the door, the sun rested half above the horizon. I blinked and turned from the glare.

Shaking my head as the cobwebs cleared, I grasped the glare of reality emanated from several thousand watts of fluorescent lighting at a twenty-four hour convenience store. I was alone in the car, beside the gas pumps. My head turned to and fro, taking in the balance of my surroundings.

Within seconds, my eyes found Kayla, inside the store with the clerk. Something brown was in her hand, then in a bag. She walked through the door with her purchase wrapped up, clutched rather than swinging freely. A man getting out of his car stared at her, until she stared back, eyes narrow, lips tight, like the other muscles of her face. At once, he looked away. With her expression unchanged, she looked to our car, and me.

My shoulders came up at once. I shivered.

Only when she settled into her seat next to me, did she smile. "Decided to get gas now," she explained, "instead of rushing tomorrow when we return the car. Didn't mean to wake you."

I shrugged. "No big deal. Where are we at?"

"Three exits from the motel. Want me to wake you again when we get there?"

I grinned. "No. I think I can make it."

Stretching as I entered our room, I started to wonder if I had made a mistake, napping. "I hope I can get back to sleep," I mumbled through a yawn.

Behind me, Kayla closed the door and laughed. "I don't. Start the shower, but don't make it too hot."

With a nod, I turned and proceeded to do just that. When I emerged from the washroom, I found Kayla had already disrobed. "Join me," she whispered.

I nodded. She smiled, then sauntered past me toward the hiss of the shower. Leaving the door open, she disappeared behind the curtain.

With a swallow and a sigh, I began to remove my own clothes. At first, I started to drop my halter to the floor, as was my habit, but my fingers never released the fabric. Not wanting Kayla to imagine that I did not appreciate my new clothes, I hung them again- though I knew well they already needed cleaning.

My eyes panned across the mirror as I turned for the shower. I paused for a look. The brown over my eyes was smeared a bit, my mascara had run, and the glimmer of my lip gloss was gone, but my face was not the horror I had imagined it might be. My eyes lingered on my lips, curved as they were. I thought of where most the missing lip gloss had to be. My lips curved even more.

I walked into the washroom and peeked beyond the curtain. "Ready?"

She turned, rivulets pouring over her muscled brown form. "What kept you?"

"I, uh, hung my clothes."

"Where? New Zealand?"

My eyes wandered for the second it took me to get the jest- then I smiled.

She smiled back. "Get in."

With a nod, I did just that.

Kayla reached over me, angling the nozzle upward, then turned and put her splayed hands to the tiles. "Wash me," she said, looking over her shoulder

By the time I had located the soap and turned back to her, she had looked away. My eyes landed where the water sprayed over my head to break upon her shoulders before sliding in rivulets down the smoothness of her back onto the even smoother cheeks of her ass.

I gulped, unsure where to begin. With a sigh, I started the safest place I could imagine, her shoulders. Her body tensed under my touch, her skin drawing tight over the broad shoulder blades beneath. A moment later she inhaled a breath and the tightness in her muscles evaporated.

With her exhale, my palms began to slide over her flesh. Using my head to block what I could of the shower, my hands roamed her back, lathering- then I shifted to one side, allowing the water to rinse her clean. The glistening body before my face was too much for me to resist. I brought my lips to that portion of her that I had just bathed, first kissing, then suckling. I heard a hiss, but not the breaking of the water across the tiles or her body, the hiss of a breath of air drawn through clenched teeth.

And so I went, lathering, rinsing, kissing, all the way down her back, until I got to her waist.

From there, I hesitated to touch her sides, wondering if I would tickle her. I need not have worried. The instant my fingertips graced her flank, she leaned into the pressure of my caress, a caress that soon became a massage. Less than a minute later, her hand found mine, urging it upward onto her ribs, then inward onto her bosom.

My hand found, then cradled her breast. She emitted a low snarl, almost a purr. Dropping the soap, I brought my other palm to cup her other breast. Though her hand covered but one of mine, her fingers dictated the tempo, urging me to increase my fondling to a groping, then to a kneading. Her ass pushed back into my tummy, pressing, then rubbing against me.

"Ah, poupée, she whispered, urging my hand from her breast, then moving her palm back to the tiles. "You are too good, but this must wait."

I took it as a cue to continue my washing and stooped to retrieve the soap. When I retrieved the bar and turned back, I stopped.

The chocolate-colored globes of her ass-cheeks loomed above me, with her darker lips and pelt peaking from below and between. My tongue found my lips. Instead of straightening, my knees dropped to the porcelain. I began to lather her legs, but my eyes did not follow my hands. Instead my attention lingered on her ass, two majestic globes, so full and proud, perfect in their texture, symmetry, and hue, framing her beckoning cunt.

So worthy of worship was she that I found myself leaning before I quite knew it. My lips found her cheek, not kissing, but sucking her flesh into my mouth. Forgoing all pretext of bathing, my palms gripped her thighs. Below, my loins warmed, and clenched their approval. I moved my mouth to her other cheek and suckled another mouthful of her.

"Later," Kayla whispered. "For now, wash it."

With a nod she could not see, I pulled my head away and brought the soap to her ass. How my lips envied my palms, gliding over, and into, her most intimate places. For a moment, I closed my eyes and imagined all of me was my fingers, slithering between the cheeks of her ass, over the soft bundle of folds hidden therein. Her tender circular muscles flexed under my touch, almost beckoning, opening for me to clean just a little more of her.

"Smell it," she said. "Be sure it's clean."

Eyes wide, I eased my smiling face forward, burying my nose between her ass cheeks. My eyelids fell. With the water pouring over my face, I inhaled, and smelled naught but the subtle fragrance of the soap. A second breath I took, larger than the first, with the same result. Emboldened, I kinked my neck backward and brought my mouth to bear. To my lover's cunt went my tongue, but only for a moment. From there I drew my spread appendage upward, following a delicate ridge of skin, intent on making sure she was really clean.

Kayla pushed my face back with her ass, then pulled away. "Later!" With that she spun. "For now, wash me the rest of me. From now on, it's your job now to clean every inch of me."

My lips pressed together in a pout, I looked up and nodded. My hands found the soap again, and her feet. Upward I proceeded, washing her calves, her thighs, her cunt. Onward I lathered onto her tummy before I stood.

My eyes came to rest on her bosom, just below my chin. I licked my lips and cycled a breath. How I wanted to kiss her breasts, to suckle them, to love them. With a swallow, I began to wash them instead, my eyes locked on my fingers as they moved over her feminine softness, straying near nipples that were harder each time I touched them.

As my hand brought the soap upward, above her breasts, her hands found mine. My eyes shifted upward to meet hers. "I'll take it from here," she said.

Nodding, I leaned to take a step backward, but her hands found my shoulders, stopping me. She leaned. An instant later, I stretched. With the water breaking over our heads, we kissed- just a moment, just a confirmation, then it was over.

A smile still crossing her face, she turned and reached for the shampoo. I but stood, watching as she washed first her hair, and then her face. A minute later, she gave me a second kiss, just a peck on the forehead. Then the curtain rustled and she was gone.

Trying to imagine what was to follow, I bathed myself in the same thorough manner, all the while my mind was elsewhere, imagining my hands on a body other than mine, imagining what lay ahead, tonight, tomorrow, and beyond- hoping and praying that Delia's words were true.

I emerged from the washroom to find Kayla lying on the bed, stretched out atop the sheet, her legs crossed, her palms tucked behind her head, her elbows pointing to each side, her attention on yet another cartoon. Without looking, one hand emerged from behind her head to find the remote control lying on a towel at her side. She aimed the device at the television in the same moment she aimed her eyes at me.

With a click, the sound of the cartoons faded. Her eyes wandered, but remained on me even as she flipped the remote control atop the adjacent bed. A dozen heartbeats of silence followed during which her eyes roamed my exposed form- and mine hers.

"You're beautiful, Sandy," she said, shifting her attention back to my face. "I hope you understand, I really am shallow. I couldn't have just anyone serve me the way you do."

"I understand," I replied, though I wasn't sure I did.

Kayla's smile broadened to show the full length of her upper teeth. She glanced to the towel at her side. Her smile static and her eyes locked on mine, she flipped the cloth onto the floor. My eyes widened. So did her smile. She cut her eyes to find the object of my fascination, a bottle of Hershey's chocolate syrup. Her hand followed her eyes, sliding across the mattress, pushing ripples in the sheet until her fingers found the brown container. Grasping the bottle, she flipped it upside down and brought it to her free hand, squeezing until a glob of chocolate squirted onto her fingers.

She looked to me. Her chest swelled with a breath. She dropped the bottle. Leaning back, she spread her legs wide, revealing herself to me. Her syrup covered fingers eased toward her sex.

I licked my lips, all but hypnotized by the hand passing over her nether lips. She squeezed her muff, massaging the chocolate into her furry folds. But not for long. Onward her fingers went, burrowing between the cheeks of her ass, rubbing, spreading. Her hips squirmed. I heard her exhale. My eyes jumped to her face.

"Looks like it's all dirty again," she gasped.

My mouth fell open. Her words from the shower echoed within my psyche: From now on, it's your job now to clean every inch of me. A breath emerged, then my tongue, tracing once the length of my upper lips. My eyes still held captive by hers, I nodded and crawled onto the bed.

Kayla emitted a sigh, then leaned back, onto the pillows. "Hâte, ma poupée," she whispered. "Don't make me wait."

I scurried across the mattress upon hands and knees until my face hovered between her thighs. Glancing up, my eyes traced a path along the cleft of her abdomen, between a pair of breasts that rose and fell with each breath, to her moist, open mouth, and onward to her wide, glistening eyes.

Kayla's fingers left her ass. The motion drew my attention as her hand traced a path over her sex, over her muff, almost like a curtain moving upward over a stage. She flipped her palm upward, spreading her fingers toward me. I looked back to her eyes, great brown and white beacons, glowing with excitement. My breaths were short, shallow, as if I was saving energy for the exertion ahead, yet somewhere in those breaths I caught my first waft of her. It was subtle, yet unmistakable, a musky animal tang that contrasted with the sweet smell of chocolate. My tongue found my lips. I shivered, so thrilled was I to be the source of her ferment.

I leaned toward her splayed hand, parting my lips en route. With a sigh of satisfaction I took the first of her syrup-covered fingers into my mouth. My eyelids fluttered, then drooped. All of me was my tongue. Licking. Suckling. Cleaning. Loving. Serving.

A full minute later, with a moan of contentment, I opened my eyes enough to shift my lips to the adjacent finger. I had only time enough to take in Kayla's smile before my eyelids quivered closed again. My breaths became short, crisp, yet deep, almost urgent. Knowing I had just washed her, the fragrance wafting to my nose in ever-increasing potency could mean but one thing. Behind me, my raised ass rotated in the air, but an outward indication of a greater tumult growing within me, similar I knew to the embers my lips were stoking within my lover.

When Kayla at last drew her glistening thumb from my mouth, my lips followed the fleeing digit for the distance my neck would permit. My chest heaving with my own excitement, I turned my wanting eyes to her face.

Her eyes seemed to pulse in time with the motion of my ass. Her chest heaved in the same way mine did. She licked her lips once. I did the same. My eyes fell to find her cunt spread before me. I sniffed again, then whimpered my desire.

"Oui," she whispered.

Without another word or thought, I closed my eyes and plunged my face into her sex. At once, I felt the sticky syrup upon my checks, but I did not feel it for long. My sense of touch faded, as did that of sight, and sound. I was reduced to those most primitive senses, smell and taste. With every laving lick, her scent and flavor changed. Less sugar. More salt. Less Hershey's. More Kayla. Only one thing tastes better than chocolate, and my mouth was on it- cleaning it, loving it, worshipping it.

How many minutes later it was, I cannot say, but Kayla's hand found my head, urging me away from a task I knew to be but half complete.

Blinking, I looked to her eyes. Again I noticed the stickiness of the syrup upon my face. A moment later her lips caressed one another. Her words reached my ears as a murmur. "Oui, ma poupée, you know what needs to be cleaned next."

My eyes fell. Upon her butt cheeks I saw it, the smeared chocolate just darker than her flesh, a few streaks on the roundness of her ass more remaining within the valley between. I leaned down and breathed again, confirming the fragrance of chocolate still mixed with the scent of her.

"Don't wait," she whispered in a tone much closer to a beg than a command. "Don't tease. Just do it."

I smiled. It wasn't just my job to clean every inch of her- it was my privilege. My face descended. My still-curved lips landed on the taut roundness of one of her cheeks. I sucked her ass flesh into my mouth, then cleansed her with my tongue. Kayla's hips began to shift, squirming beneath my laving, but it deterred me not.

When there was no more syrup to be had upon her cheeks, I moved my mouth over her sex. But I did not lick- instead I blew a gentle breeze until she pushed herself upward.
I paused for a quick smile, then put my tongue to her crease. Bringing my eyes upward, I looked along the shallow cleft of her abdomen, between her breasts to her face. Her mouth was open but no words emerged- she was breathing through it, her chest rising and falling with each breath. For an instant, I thought to say how much I wanted her with words. An instant later, I decided to say it a better way.

Her body jerked as my tongue found the lower reach of her sex, then plowed into the furrow of her ass. Long, broad strokes my tongue drew, scooping the chocolate from the crease. After a few passes I began to sense the texture of her valley beneath the syrup. There my tongue explored. Soon I found that soft bundle of folds. Without hesitation my tongue burrowed into her wrinkled flesh.

Her body tensed again. Her thighs shook next to my ears. I looked up. Kayla looked down. She emitted a whimper. The cheeks of her ass squeezed the cheeks of my face. A moment later she relaxed, then gave a brisk nod. I licked again, drawing my tongue with deliberate slowness over her most private place. My nose situated at her entry, I detected with ease her increasing arousal. Her palms found her breasts and began to massage them, her fingers poking dimples into her flesh.

With our eyes still locked on one another, I suddenly sensed the essence of the exchange. She was letting me know all of her beauty was available to me, and I was letting her know that I found all of her beautiful.

Emboldened, I licked again. And again. On the third lick, her delicate wrinkled star wiggled, then loosened. At once, I forced my tongue in, laving the smooth, soft flesh within even as it grasped at my tongue.

One of Kayla's hands left her bosom to found my hair. "Oui!," she cried. "Léchez mon cul." Her fingers ran through my locks, combing the still-damp tresses to one side, out of my face. This she did for several minutes until she moved her palm to the edge of my scalp and urged me away.

The instant my face had left her body, she rolled over. Putting her chest to the mattress she pushed her ass high in the air. Her hands came around her sides, grasping, then spreading, her ass cheeks. Over one shoulder, her face appeared, or at least the half of her face that she could direct my way. "Make sure it's clean."

Without a word, I shifted my attention from her still-turned face to her ass. There was no more pretending. That which I had licked, I could now see. It almost looked back at me, glistening with my own spittle amidst stray streaks of chocolate. I hesitated but for that moment before my tongue was again on her ass, bathing it, poking it, scouring it for any last trace of sweetness.

Kayla issued an elongated sigh.

I continued to lick long after any hint of chocolate had vanished, until there was no flavor at all, until my lover's ass was indeed clean- the cleanest most beautiful ass in the world. It deserved to be cleaned, to be worshipped, and I was proud she permitted me the honor.

Somewhere between a dozen and a score minutes later, Kayla's hands left her ass to find the mattress beneath her shoulders. She rose to all fours and again brought her gaze to me via a single eye peeled over her shoulder.