Memoirs of a Swinger Ep. 39

This is the thirty-ninth episode of my unreliable memoirs recounting sexual encounters in the nineteen eighties. Each episode is self-contained, so you can read them without having read the previous ones.

It's a bit of a one off episode, recounting the story of a wedding which Lesley and Steven went to that summer. There's a bit of sex, not a huge amount though.

I hope you enjoy the tale.

M4bloke

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A Wedding

In late May, Lesley and I fulfilled a promise we'd made the previous year to some swinging friends of ours, Mark and Sally. Lesley was to be a bridesmaid at their wedding and I was to be Mark's best man.

We didn't really know Mark and Sally that well. They lived not too far from us, in Dartford, Kent and we'd become friends after meeting them at the swingers' week-end in Germany eighteen months before.

Sally was an attractive girl, average height, with brown shoulder length hair, a nice smile and most importantly, fantastic breasts. She did a bit of glamour modelling and worked as a promotions girl at various events and trade shows. Back in the eighties some of the tabloid newspapers ran a topless model on their 'Page 3' and Sally had appeared a couple of times. She'd even had a photo shoot in Penthouse gentleman's magazine. Sally wasn't the brightest spark by any means but her heart was in the right place and I liked her. She was also one of the few people I knew who was the same age as me.

Mark was blonde and a good looking guy. He was early thirties and worked as a computer programmer, a job that paid pretty well back in the eighties. When Mark had asked me to be his best man I'd been a bit taken aback, as I hardly knew him really. But Mark had grown up an orphan and I knew he'd had a tough start to his life. As he'd joked, most of his childhood friends were either dead or in prison.

Back then, Stag and Hen nights weren't as lavish as they are today. In the eighties, a pub crawl followed by a curry was the usual choice for blokes, and this is what I arranged for Mark, complete with the obligatory stripper. Keeping with the social norms for the time, Sally had her hen night in a club where an exotic male dance troupe were performing.

Sally's dad, Barry and her older brother, Grant came with us on the stag night, while Sally's mum, Pearl went on the hen night with her daughter. Both Barry and Grant were as working class as they came and proud of it. I felt at ease in their company and it reminded me of my own upbringing. Barry worked as a printer on the newspapers in London and Grant, who was a couple of years older than his sister, had followed in his father's steps. The whole newspaper industry was a closed shop back then and the only way you got a job in 'the print' was by being related to someone who already worked in it.

While many parents might have been embarrassed by their daughter showing off her body for a living, Barry couldn't have been more proud.

"She's a fine looking girl," he'd confided to me on the stag night.

"She is," I'd agreed, although I thought it best to leave out that she was a great fuck too.

Barry and Pearl were determined to give their only daughter the wedding she deserved. It was going to be a church service followed by a reception at a local golf and country club. On the day of the wedding, Lesley and I got up early and made the journey to Dartford from Wimbledon in the Porsche. I dropped Lesley off at Sally's parents' house, stopping briefly to say hello to Sally, then drove on to Mark's.

Mark was up and drinking coffee when I arrived. I could see he was a bit nervous.

"Everything ok?" I asked.

"Fine," he replied. "I just want fast forward to this afternoon so that I can say I'm married to her."

"Sally told me to tell you she loves you by the way and that she can't wait to be married."

"Were you like this on your wedding day?" he asked.

"We didn't really have the build-up to the big day like you. Ours was more of a whirlwind affair. And it was in a registry office not a church," I admitted. "We didn't know we were getting married until five days before."

"Is that legal?"

"It is, if the man giving the bride away is a high court judge, apparently."

"Do you two do anything like normal people?" Mark laughed.

"Actually we'd planned to get married the following year, after I'd finished university," I explained. "But so much happened after we got engaged. I got stabbed, Lesley nursed me back to health and then we went on the bike to Europe. By the end of the summer it was like we'd known each other all our lives."

"So, what happened?"

"We were at a wedding in France and Lesley's adopted father..."

"The high court judge?"

"Yes, although strictly speaking he wasn't her adopted father then I guess. Anyway, he could see how much Lesley wanted to be married, so he asked me how I felt. I confessed that I wanted to be married just as much as she did. But we'd only been engaged a few months and in any case I was going back to university the following weekend. To cut a long story short, he pulled a few strings and we got married on the Thursday."

Mark laughed.

"Thank you for being my best man, Steven. And I know it means a lot to Sally that Lesley's going to be a bridesmaid too."

"We're both very honoured," I told him.

The wedding wasn't until three in the afternoon, so I took Mark for some lunch at a local pub. Afterwards, we got dressed up in our morning suits and I drove us to the church. I could see that Mark was getting more nervous as the time approached and it made me think about what he'd asked earlier. I hadn't been nervous at all on my wedding day. I'd been totally certain that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Lesley and I hadn't doubted for a moment that she wanted to spend the rest of her life with me.

When we arrived we met Grant who was acting as an usher and the three of us had a chat as the church filled up with guests. Then Mark and I took our places in the front row and the final wait began.

"It'll soon be over," I said trying to calm Mark's nerves but realising that I sounded more like a dentist about to extract a troublesome tooth.

Fortunately Sally didn't keep Mark waiting. At three o'clock on the dot there were voices and activity at the back of the church.

"We're on," I told Mark and the two of us stood up.

When the vicar had taken his place in front of the alter, the organist began to play the wedding march. We both looked round and there was Barry, walking his daughter down the aisle. Sally looked a picture in her white dress and as they got closer I could see Lesley walking behind her. She was trying to look professional but when she saw me looking at her she gave me a cheeky smile.

Having delivered his daughter, Barry shook Mark's hand then took his place next to Pearl who was trying to hold back her tears. I caught Sally's glance and she smiled at me.

"Thank you for getting him here on time," she said.

"I couldn't have stopped him if I'd wanted to," I replied.

When everyone was seated, the vicar began. He was getting on a bit but was a seasoned professional when it came to weddings. He put the bride and groom at ease and in no time at all they were saying their vows to each other. The bit about forsaking all others and being faithful made me chuckle, but in their own way I felt sure that Mark and Sally would be.

After being pronounced man and wife, the happy couple made it out of the church and posed for photos before getting into the bridal car and being driven to the reception. When they'd gone, everyone followed in their own cars. Lesley and I were needed at the reception for the photos, so we hot-footed it over in the Porsche.

You don't realise how many different permutations of family and friends there are at a wedding until it's time for the photos, although in this case, the split between the bride's family and the groom's was a bit one sided. Sally, it seemed, had aunties and uncles by the bucket load whereas Mark had no family at all. It must have caused the photographer a few problems.

It was just gone five by the time the photos were finished. The reception meal wasn't until six, so Lesley and I got our luggage out of the car and checked into our room. We'd hardly had a moment to ourselves all day and when we were alone we both had the same idea.

"Do you want to fuck the bridesmaid?" Lesley asked teasing me.

"Ever since I first saw her," I replied.

"Just don't get cum on my dress," she giggled.

Lesley leaned back against the bedroom wall and let me lift up her dress.

"No panties, just how you like me," she said as I felt her pussy.

I undid my trousers and let them fall to the floor then lifted Lesley up. She reached down and guided my cock into her then put both hands around my neck and wrapped her legs around my waist.

"I love you," I told her.

"I love you more than you can imagine," she replied.

"Do you wish you'd had a proper wedding?" I asked.

"I just wanted to be married to you, Steven. I didn't care where or how."

The reception dinner was for about forty guests, mostly from Sally's side of the family. By the time the speeches came round, Barry had already had a few too many to drink and waxed on about his daughter and how special she was. He was paying for the night, so I guess it was his prerogative.

Because I hadn't known Mark that well, or for that long, it was difficult to pepper the best man's speech with amusing anecdotes about his past, so I stuck to telling the audience about what a decent guy he was and how he loved Sally. Lesley had helped me to write it and I was glad of her input. She gave it warmth and made it sound less like a business presentation.

Mark got a bit choked up during his own speech. I think it was just nerves, but he got through it and it was clear to all that he loved Sally, which was good enough for her family.

The happy couple had their first dance to 'Up where we belong', by Joe Cocker and Jennifer Warnes, made famous by the film, Top Gun. Mark and Sally felt self-conscious on the dancefloor by themselves and Sally encouraged everyone to join them. When the call came, Lesley was first up, dragging me with her.

After the first dance it was time for Mark and Sally to mingle and we tried to do the same even though we didn't really know anyone. After they'd thanked all the aunties and uncles for coming Mark and Sally came and found us.

"Thank you for looking after my husband today," Sally said, hugging me.

"It was a pleasure," I told her, then asked. "Has he told you where you're going on your honeymoon yet?"

"No, but he told me to pack my bikini. I'm so excited. I can't wait."

Mark had pushed the boat out and was taking Sally to the Bahamas on the surprise holiday of a lifetime. They'd be spending their wedding night in a hotel near Heathrow airport then flying off in the morning.

"I just know you're going to love it. I'm so jealous, I wish I was going," Lesley said taking my hand and looking at me with puppy dog eyes.

"You've already chosen where we're going this year," I told her.

"I guess," Lesley replied slightly despondently.

"Where's that?" Mark asked.

"Colorado, next month," Lesley explained, "We're hiring a motorcycle and riding across the Rockies to stay with some friends. Can I tell them Steven?"

"They're your friends," I said. "I've never even met them."

"We're staying with Astrid Olsen and her husband at their ranch."

"What, Astrid Olsen the supermodel?" Sally shrieked. "How do you know her?"

"I met her in New York last year and we just got on," Lesley said, now slightly embarrassed.

"She was so beautiful," Sally said.

"She still is," Lesley told her.

"There really is nothing normal about you two," Mark laughed. "Is there?"

"I've one last favour to ask you as my bridesmaid," Sally said to Lesley.

"What's that?" Lesley asked.

"Come upstairs and help me out of this dress," Sally said coyly.

"It would be a pleasure," Lesley giggled.

"I'd like to ask the boys as well but I think it might look a bit obvious."

"Mark's got plenty of time to help you out of dresses on your honeymoon," Lesley told her. "As for Steven, well he's just going to have to wait until you get back."

"You're first on my list, Steven." Sally confirmed.

"You mean there's a list?" I joked.

"I wish," she replied. "But you're not the only ones here tonight that we've had fun with."

"Good for you," Lesley told her. "Now why don't we leave the boys down here and get you into something more comfortable."

"I guess there's nothing else for us to do but smoke these," I told mark, producing a couple of Cuban cigars I'd brought along for the occasion.

In those days you could smoke indoors but Mark and I sat on the patio of the country club with our cigars and a couple of pints. It was just about warm enough.

"Congratulations," I said raising my glass to him.

"Thank you," Mark replied.

"Do you feel any different?"

"Yes and no. I mean we've been living together for over a year. But I've had no family since I was a kid. Now I do."

"You're a lucky guy. Sally's pretty special," I told him. "And she's lucky to have you. Don't forget that either."

"Astrid Olsen, eh?" Mark said wistfully. "I remember looking at pictures of her when I was younger."

"Yeah. I think most blokes could say the same," I told him.

It was forty five minutes or so before the girls came down. When they did, Sally looked a bit flushed whereas Lesley looked like the cat that had got the cream. They both looked great, although, if it had been my wedding night, I'd have gone for something slightly less revealing than Sally's choice of tight fitting spandex dress. Lesley had also been a bit daring, wearing a strapless blue satin outfit that finished well above the knee. Both of them were buzzing and ready to party.

"You both look fantastic," I said.

"You certainly do," Mark said agreeing.

"Thank you," Sally told Mark. "But there's no need for compliments. I'm a sure thing tonight."

"And what about me?" I asked Lesley.

"Oh, I'm keeping my options open," she giggled.

If the reception had been about family, then the disco in the evening was about friends. The sides were evened up a bit now as Mark's colleagues from work and team mates from the local football club he played for came to celebrate with him.

Sally's friends from work were of course the girls she worked with at trade shows as a promotions girl. They were all quite alike; attractive, busty and quite flashy with it. One of them I learned was also a 'page 3' model, like Sally. Apart from a great body she had the most angelic face. It was a real picture.

Another girl, I thought I recognised from a motorbike magazine. Buying them was a guilty pleasure of mine and like many bike magazines at the time they usually had a topless centrefold. This girl was a brunette with legs to die for and I was pretty sure I'd seen her naked, draped over a red Ducati sports-bike in a recent edition.

I don't know why, but for some reason, most of the girls' partners weren't great looking. Some looked almost Neanderthal. Ducati girl's partner was the exception. He looked a bit like Jean Claude van Damme and I wondered if he might be a professional footballer or something like that.

Of course, all of the girls wanted to party and Sally led the charge onto the dance floor. Mark and I resisted the temptation to join them and sat watching and chatting from the side-lines. After a while his work mates collared him and I found myself watching Lesley on my own for a while. Jean Claude van Damme was doing something similar on the next table and when I looked around the room I caught his gaze.

"Hi." Jean Claude shouted. "Mind if I join you?"

"Sure," I replied.

"You're the best man?"

"That's right."

"Jane, and I came to the church this afternoon," he said by way of explanation. "It was a nice service."

"It was," I agreed, then added, "Are you friends of Mark or Sally?" pretty sure that I already knew the answer.

"Both, I guess," he replied, "but Jane works with Sally. I'm Martin, by the way."

"Steven," I replied shaking his hand.

"You don't fancy your chances on the dance floor?" he asked.

"I've got a theory that only single men dance," I told him.

"Which one's yours?" he asked, nodding at the girls dancing.

"The redhead," I said and since Lesley was the only redhead dancing there was no need for further clarification.

"She was a bridesmaid wasn't she?

"That's right."

"I'm guessing she's not a model or promo girl."

"What makes you say that?"

"She looks a bit too classy," he said.

"Part of her will take that as a compliment but part of her is a big show off and would love to be one."

"Jane's the one in the pink dress," he offered.

"I'd be lying if I said I hadn't already noticed her," I told him. "She's a bit of a stunner."

"Thanks, yes she is."

"To be honest I think I recognise her from a bike magazine."

"The Ducati," he replied.

"That's the one. She looked amazing."

"You should tell her, she'd like that."

At that point Mark returned from talking to his colleagues and greeted Martin, who congratulated him. Mark thanked Martin for coming and I could see that the two of them obviously knew each other but presumably not well enough for Martin to have been invited on the stag night.

When Sally saw the three of us together she gathered up Lesley and Jane and came to say hello. Sally gave Martin a big hug and Jane did the same to Mark and then there were more congratulations.

"Actually, we wanted to introduce you," Sally said to the four of us. "Steven and Lesley, meet Martin and Jane."

I went to shake Jane's hand but she was intent on giving me a short hug, kissing my cheek as she did. Lesley hugged Martin too.

"Finally, some good looking men," Jane said, in a statement that was designed to flatter.

"You can say that again," Lesley agreed.

"And the three most beautiful women in the room of course," Martin added.

"Just remember, it's the bride who's the most beautiful tonight," Sally joked. Then turning to Mark she said, "Now, I promised mum we'd go and thank Aunty Pam for her wedding present, so we'll catch you all later."

Smiling, Sally took Mark by the arm and led him away. It was then that it occurred to me that Sally might be trying to set us up with Jane and Martin.

There was a lull in the conversation when Mark and Sally left and Martin decided to fill it.

"Steve recognised you from your Ducati shoot," he told Jane.

I felt a bit of a lecher when he said this but Jane seemed to take it as a compliment.

"You looked stunning," I told her.

"Thank you, that's so nice," Jane replied.

Lesley looked inquisitive and so I explained to her about seeing Jane in one of my bike magazines.

"Is that you," Lesley said incredulously. "I remember it. You did look hot."

"I didn't know you read my bike magazines," I told her.

"I flick through them when you're not around," Lesley admitted. "Do you like bikes?" she asked Jane.

"Not really. I'm more of a 'fast car' girl."

"You should talk to Steven then."

"Why what have you got?" Jane asked.

"A Mini," I told her.

"Oh, that's nice," she said trying to be polite.

"He's joking with you," Lesley explained. "He does have a Mini but he also has a Porsche 911."

"The black one in the car park?"

"Yes."

It's odd how you begin to take things for granted. I'd had the Porsche a while now and to me it was just a car. It did everything perfectly but I'd never really been in love with it, not like I was with my Mini.

"It's not really mine," I told them. "It's a company car."