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God, she'd said yes. She'd been on her way to his apartment in freshly bought lingerie to give herself up to him. Not that she really believed she could have changed him, be the one to tame the untamable. But at the very least he would have been a distraction from her loss of Stephen.
One hell of a distraction. God, had he been mixed into her dreams last night?
The whole Gavin-memory swelled up from nowhere; she'd sublimated it completely, even when Helen convinced her to invite her ex-boss to the wedding. It would be an appropriate thank-you, the chief bridesmaid had insisted. Think how understanding he was, she said, when Stephen literally flew back into Erica's life, having scaled down his work in America so he could restore their relationship.
The romantic overtures of one man usurped by another... Gavin hadn't said a single unkind word when she broke the news. He'd been the consummate professional, moving her within the firm on the same salary lest she feel uncomfortable with him. And he was going to be there today, possibly with a special someone else. Oh God, in another life...
She pushed away the thought along with her plate. "Thanks mum, but I really can't eat another bite. I need to shower. The girls will be here soon." And she fled both the kitchen and the pestering thought. By the time she reached the bathroom she had shaken the latter.
It was Stephen who had all her affection now--her sweet, high-flying entrepreneur, who had flown in from the USA like he had carried those two dozen roses all the way, so that he could propose. "So I can right the mistake of my life, Erica--leaving you." She looked in the mirror, brushed her bed-hair away from her face and checked the bags under her eyes--tell-tale of her disturbed sleep. Yes--even after a rough night she was strikingly pretty. She had always been secretly proud of the huge brown eyes, heart-shaped face and full mouth. Further thanks to her mother for all of those.
Coquettishly biting her lip, she eased off her terry-cloth robe and slid the straps of her silk nightie from her shoulders, letting it shimmy all the way down her body leaving her naked. Proudly she looked upon what she would be offering up to Stephen. Her heart and soul in the church that afternoon and her body that evening. Her pilates toned body. The honey glow of her skin. Her full, high breasts, each topped with a large and sweet russet nipple. All for him--for Stephen's eyes only to roam over as freely as they liked.
What a cruel yet wonderful idea to withhold herself from him after the proposal night.
That precious evening--Erica primed for Gavin--had been transformed from lust to romance by Stephen's miraculous reappearance.
"I've missed you so, so much," he groaned as their bodies united on his bed. "I'll never leave you again, sweetheart, I promise." He shafted inside her, strong but restrained, and they achieved their rapture together--or as close as made no difference. It was tender, loving and beautiful. But she chose to make him wait till his wedding night for further enjoyment of her soft flesh.
Tonight he could have her anew. Like a virgin... She considered the song lyric and giggled at what a terrible tease she was. I'll be a beautiful, pure, sexy bride all wrapped up for my beloved. At the day's end he'll sweep me away from all those watching eyes and make me his completely. Plunder my chaste treasure all over.
Shower water tumbled onto her. She imagined herself bathing under a Belize waterfall on honeymoon with Stephen watching--as she wrung out the tresses of her hair, palmed her luscious breasts in slow circles, smoothed her hands over her gracefully athletic thighs and taut round ass.
She was acting it out as she washed, her soaped-up hands loving the curves of her own ripe young body. She slithered her way down over her trim stomach and further on over the mound she had had waxed a day before, letting the tip of her middle finger tease her clitoris. Not too much or she'd never be able to stop--and she had done so well in restraining herself these past weeks. It was only fair that she should save up her pleasure since she had asked the same of Stephen.
Her finger lingered on her bud and she gasped at the thought of her groom's hands upon her, shaping themselves to the curve of her buttocks, his erect cock gliding against her tummy--her suave gentleman getting all hot and ungentlemanly as she teased him with her own roaming fingers. It was only fleetingly that the image changed to someone broader, taller; someone she had made out with eight months prior in the front of his car, a man with a great masculine frame and a cock that couldn't help but bulge against the inside leg of his trousers when there was any physical contact between them...
Erica broke away from her self-pleasuring with a gasp the instant the image of Gavin formed in her mind. She breathed deeply letting it dissolve and then resumed her clitoral attentions, willing Stephen back like she was trying to conjure up his wet naked form against her. She held him there in her mind pure and precious. But then the image changed again and she was swaying, undulating between two male bodies; one of them Gavin perhaps, the other Stephen, or were these two different men altogether? She felt wanton and slutty, someone other than herself--a girl unhinged with sex, not a bride on the morning of her wedding. Someone capable of losing herself to a pair of strangers...
She broke off her teasing, gasping this time, cheeks burning in recognition of the two phantoms who had pressed in on her. They had been the pair of figures in her dreams for sure. Why the hell was she still clinging to that tawdry fantasy?
She hurried from the shower, but the thought persisted as she towelled and moisturised herself, massaging lavender oil into her skin. It was all Helen's fault, persuading her to go to that infernal club.
"You need to live some," her friend had advised.
"But I'm marrying Stephen now, I can't go out misbehaving."
"You can, and you need to. What, you seriously think he didn't misbehave all those months he was in the States? An attractive successful man making a name for himself in Los Angeles--you can be sure he got plenty of attention and you don't actually think he ignored it, do you? Yes--he came back for you and that's beautiful, but you can be sure as hell he had his final fling while he was out there."
Helen apologised afterwards if the sentiments had been unnecessarily harsh, but her point hit home. Erica and Stephen's relationship had been officially over at the time; she didn't know what he'd got up to in LA and she would certainly never ask. Didn't she deserve then to have a little pre-matrimonial fun? Nothing horrible, just a few girly nights-out with some innocent flirtation thrown in.
Erica accompanied her friend to Eloise Mayhew's 30th birthday bash--Eloise, the tartiest receptionist working at Rainbow Software--for some pre-nuptial letting down of the hair. The evening was as oestrogen-crazed as the bride-to-be might have expected, although with Helen beside her she threw herself into the low-grade frivolity with enthusiasm. It all took place in a private room at the Harlequin Club with exotic cocktails and a pair of male strippers. This is so naughty, she said to herself with a thrill, as the two guys paraded their buffed selves before their baying all-female audience. There was something bizarrely tempting about this raucous female abandonment. It was so un-Erica.
She squealed, laughed and clapped along in astonishment as various members of the party received lap-dances by their entertainment for the evening, or ground into them on the dance floor, reaching down brazenly to grope a bulging thong. Even worse was birthday girl Eloise tugging both guys off to a corner--the young blonde surfer-type and the shaven-headed one who looked like an Olympic swimmer. As they peeled away their thongs, Eloise reached out her tongue to lick the tips of both their cocks--cocks which at that angle Erica had to crane her neck to...
"Come on, I think you've seen enough, Mrs Laughton." Helen pulled on Erica's arm and fixed her with a sisterly stare.
Erica was ashamed afterwards that she had shown hesitation before coming to her senses and leaving with her friend.
"I don't see how she can do that! How she can..."
"Suck off two hot guys in public?" Helen finished for her. "That's Eloise. No shame, she won't even give a damn on Monday morning. Although to be fair you couldn't watch enough, could you? You were properly fixated."
"I wasn't... I didn't..." Erica's protest fizzled. "I've never seen anything like it before."
"So which one of the dancers did you fancy the most?"
"I..." Erica was abashed to admit it, but there was a kind of liberation in doing so. "Well they were both pretty hot, weren't they?" In a rough and ready kind of way...
"And you enjoyed watching, didn't you?" Helen taunted. "Go on. Tell me, Erica. This is me you're talking to. I know it's not all sugar plum fairies in that head of yours."
"It was... I..."
While 'enjoy' was not the word Erica would have chosen, the vision of Eloise between those two hot bodies, preparing to gorge on both their hard cocks, had lingered long in her mind. The thought of acting like Eloise had done, letting go of all one's scruples and inhibitions, the antithesis of Wedding Day Barbie... Helen's campaign to provide her with juicy memories had scored a success that night.
Now the strippers were haunting her dreams and making impromptu appearances in the shower with her. Because it hadn't been the last time she saw then, had it? Robbie and Zach--God, she even remembered their names. Erica stifled a laugh as it flashed back to her. The boys had graced her hen night as well. One of her hen nights.
Helen's plans had been so markedly different from those of her other friends, the ones she retained from school, that two bachelorette evenings were required. There had been the sedate one and the secret, the latter taking place in a hotel suite with select guests from work. It had been full of drunken frivolity and more than one surprise.
"Oops -- I probably shouldn't show you these," Helen said, of the floral pill-box that had spilled out of her purse when she fumbled for a lipstick at the restroom sink.
"Show me what?" A couple of drinks down the line, Erica's interest could not help but be engaged.
"Sweet Molly Malone," Helen said cryptically, flipping open the box to reveal a couple of smiley-faced tablets. "Makes you feel 'alive, alive-o'."
Erica's vital signs all increased at the prospect of something this illicit. "It's..."
"Eloise's party-pal of choice. Remember what a good time she was having at her 30th?"
"Oh God, I do. I don't want to have that good a time."
Helen laughed. "It doesn't transform you into a raging nympho. Not if you don't want to be in the first place." They both grinned at the memory of Eloise's flagrant misbehaviour. "It just helps you feel your kind of good."
Erica's fingers actually twitched as she eyed the pills. "But... I've so much to do for the wedding tomorrow..."
"Which is why we started extra-early. And why I'll steer you away from a second bottle of red. Our friend Molly will liven up your evening, but shouldn't do much else. Did you ever see Eloise look any the worse for wear on a morning after?"
In truth Erica couldn't recall, but popping an unknown pill seemed a risk too far.
Helen saw it in her face. "My bad. As Maid of Honour it's my job to make sure you stay a good little bride. Don't want you having too much fun on your final few nights as a single. Another time perhaps." And she made to tuck the box back into her purse.
"Wait..." Her friend's words had rankled, as she was sure had been Helen's intention. "I can be a 'good little bride' starting a week from Saturday. Let me try one."
"Seriously, Erica, if it's something you don't want..."
"I do."
"I thought you were saving those words for Stephen..."
"Hey, I am! Mostly..."
They shared a rebellious smirk. The sense of naughtiness (What would mum and dad say, let along Stephen?) was still making her heart pound as the smiley pill dissolved all over her tongue.
She looked at herself in the mirror moments later and glanced at Helen. "So... what happens now?"
The 'what' that happened was subtle to begin with -- an ebbing away of whatever wedding-prep concerns had been niggling Erica's consciousness, along with any second thoughts over having popped the pill itself. Life was good and she was happy to be among such wonderful friends, even Eloise Mayhew, who she most surely had misunderstood up to that point. Happiness was massaging her mind and then her whole body. The sense of well-being swelled ever more, each moment of social contact one to be cherished, each ribald comment one of unparalleled hilarity. And then her boys showed up... Oh my!
Not that Erica recalled the occasion clearly beyond the point where Robbie and Zach had arrived. A strapping pair of exotic dancers hired to perform for the bride... They were so attentive and funny, with those irresistibly cheeky grins. She noticed Eloise positively salivating at their presence and -- despite her new positivity towards her work colleague -- felt strangely territorial regarding her two personalised strippers.
"It's your hen night," Helen had insisted prior to the event. "Your final chance to cut loose. The stags took Stephen to Spearmint Rhino--you can be sure he got lots of attention from the girls there. Well you deserve your fun too." Erica was not sure how much fun there had actually been. She had indulged in some pretty outrageous flirtation, that was for sure.
"What sort of a show did they put on?" she asked tentatively that next grimly hung-over morning. She could not recall a thing beyond having a second Raspberry Long Island Iced Tea poured into her mouth by the blond-haired Robbie.
"Well for as much as I can remember myself," Helen said, "they put on quite a show. The look on your face was priceless. It looked like you were greeting old friends. God, I wish I hadn't drunk so damn much myself. I was supposed to be looking after you. Oops."
Erica was disappointed though ultimately relieved she couldn't remember it--the two strippers had made impression enough on her mind as it stood. Still, she thought with a smirk, at least I've got a kind of past now. Something I'd never want Stephen to know about. That sexy secret is stored away just for me.
Her mother's call alerted her to the fact that the bridal party had all arrived downstairs. "Coming, mum!"
Back in the bedroom she took her time with the process. It struck Erica as especially erotic that she should wear scant bridal lingerie underneath her wedding dress. In church she would look the archetypal blooming bride, the joy of her weeping mother and proud dad. And underneath would await the temptress in skimpy virginal white. Not even her groom would know the delights she was concealing until that evening.
She began naked before her bedroom mirror. A touch narcissistic? No matter. If she could not pride herself on her fleshly beauty today, then when could she? She slid the panties on first, hiding her clean-waxed pussy beneath what was scarcely more than a white silk thong. Now the corseted brassiere to match, embroidered all around with white flowers. She loved how it enhanced her round bosom, pushing everything up into an impressive tight cleavage. The effect so far was remarkable, a treat for any husband.
Add to that the lacy suspender-belt and translucent white stockings. There was a particular thrill in drawing the stockings smoothly up each leg as she perched on her bed, pulling tight the thin straps and attaching them to the belt; it made her feel as much a classy Parisian courtesan as a bride. She checked the look in the mirror, loving how the tiny V of the panties and taut straps accentuated her hips' naked curve. Outwardly the chaste bride, beneath the alluring minx--ready to satisfy every craving of her new husband.
What did Stephen crave? His love-making was tender and respectful, befitting his 'princess'. Stephen's pet name for her was how she had always seen herself, perhaps explaining why any lovers she had ever had treated her so delicately. Even if that was not solely what she wanted...
Cherished like a bride and fucked like a whore. Her school friend Camille had coined the phrase, making Erica blush. When dating Stephen she had recalled it, wondering why he always took her the same way every time. Something closer to the 'ravishment' she read about in steamy romance novels would have been nice from time to time. Maybe that was the real reason she had kept him waiting these past months of their engagement--to see if sheer seething frustration would draw from him something different...
"Erica!" Her mother's voice startled her out of her reverie. Gosh, time was moving on.
"I'm right there!" She let go of all her silly thoughts, wrapped her dressing gown around her and joined the bridal party.
The group swept her up in a whirl of girlish affection. What a joy it was to see them all. Kate, Stephen's petite blonde younger sister kissing her on the cheek. Camille, gorgeous as ever with her mocha skin and dark eyes, flinging arms about her--Erica's most natural confidant in this world and, but for the fact she had gone to work in France, the obvious choice for chief bridesmaid.
But then Erica never would have met Helen. Helen, whose demure appearance belied a wicked soul; her prettiness was not as obvious or conventional as Erica's, but it was fused with vibrancy and sly wit. Helen exuded a sexiness that could make her friend gasp in delighted shock; she brought out that whole other Erica. And the girl had been so forgiving when Erica had--well--kind of stepped in and monopolised Stephen the night she had first met him.
"Helen, I hope you didn't think I was... I was..." Her apology after the event had been stumbling.
"Not even my type, sweetie. I don't think it for an instant."
Erica embraced her warmly that nuptial morning. She embraced them all and then gave a saucy flash of her night-wear on Helen's insistence.
Camille laughed. "What a lucky guy! Babe, I'm jealous!"
"This bride's going to get it every which way before the day's out," Helen added with conviction.
"Hey, I don't think I want to hear this..." Kate Laughton was grinning ruefully.
They all joined in the hilarity and Erica glowed to be the centre of attention. Stephen's mother Myra joined them shortly after, to fuss over her future daughter-in-law. Erica's mum was popping in and out, trying to fuss less than her husband. They opened a bottle of red wine and passed around a box of chocolates Camille had brought, as the ribaldry of the joking increased. Then Vicky and Roz from the salon arrived and sat Erica down to transform her into something even more spectacular.
"It's not like you don't have good material to work with," Camille pointed out.
"We're going to make you a princess," Roz, one of the stylists, said. That word again. Well, wedding days were for princesses, right? It's my Barbie-day. Erica smiled and gave herself up to the salon girls' talented hands.
Vicky pulled her hair back into a cascade of loose curls, pinning it and further securing with a floral band. Then Roz plucked her eyebrows to trim perfection and began her tasteful application of make-up. "Let's bring out those eyes so he can drown in them," she said, homing in.
A Sex and the City DVD was playing in the background, the closing episode of the final season, the one where Carrie finally landed her man.
