tagRomanceRelative Confusion

Relative Confusion

byTory_del_Ricoh©

I am reposting this story as I have been wanting to rewrite parts of it for some time.

My heartfelt thanks as ever to evanslily for her superb editing skills and advice.

Night and Day, Cole Porter. 1932.


******

"Ladies and Gentlemen, pray silence for the Father of the Bride," the toastmaster called out.

Feeling the knot of fear tighten in his stomach, Martin rose to speak. He glanced up and down the table, the linen tablecloth rather less pristine than it had been now the remains of the meal had been cleared away. His mother was to his left with Leo, his five year old son, sitting on her lap. On his right was Kate, looking stunning in her white lace wedding gown, and a good deal more mature than her eighteen years - perhaps being two months pregnant made her more radiant. She was looking at Nigel with all the love and devotion of a new wife.

Beyond the groom, Kate's mother, Helen, seemed unable to take her eyes off the arrangement of roses and dahlias on the table. At the end was Nigel's friend Simon, a late replacement for Martin as best man.

"As you're all aware, of course, I am not Kate's father," Martin began. He might not be her father but he had slept with her mother; and from the way Helen was avoiding looking at him, she still thought it was a mistake.

"Apart from the fact the groom is my twin brother, which would make the entire ceremony illegal, at twenty-nine I'm probably a little young for the job. I'll explain how I came to be here presently, but may I first thank you all for coming; it's lovely to see so many family and friends." Pausing briefly, Martin looked down at his notes.

"We are of course missing some key family members. Helen's mother and father were unable to get back from New Zealand; Auntie Margot is unfortunately in hospital, although she should be well again soon; and our cousin James is currently serving at an airbase in Iraq. I know Helen, Kate's mother, and Martha, my mother, have worked hard to make today a great occasion and I'm sure you will all agree they've been successful."

Martha smiled proudly at him, but when he glanced at Helen, even this compliment had not won her attention. After a small burst of applause he continued.

"It is, of course, my duty to say a few words about the bride. I only met her a few months ago but I already know she's an independent, attractive, elegant, stunning woman; and once I met her mum, I could see where she got those qualities." He looked across at Helen once more. She remained unmoved, her face expressionless.

"She's won the admiration of her colleagues in the recruitment agency; and not just because her mother is the boss and her new husband is one of the senior consultants. From the first time I saw her with Nigel, I could tell she'd won his heart; in all honesty I had never seen him so smitten. Now I know my brother has had a reputation, which I personally think is undeserved, as a 'ladies man'..."

Nigel had always had an eye for a pretty girl. His dark hair and devilish grin always seemed to attract them, like moths to a flame, and the result was usually the same: they got burned. He avoided long term relationships; yet his dashing good looks, athletic frame and winning laugh seemed to make each girl forgive him for moving on, and each new girl ignore what he had done with her friends. Their mother had long ago given up hope he would settle down and resigned herself to his endless stream of girlfriends. Maturity had merely slowed the rate of turnover, some women lasted as long as six months.

"... But I couldn't could have a better, more supportive brother. When I was in trouble, he was at the head of the queue to provide support and sympathy; when I needed encouragement, he supplied it by the bucket load; when I felt I had nothing left to live for, he picked up the pieces and helped me rebuild my life. I am immensely proud of him and I cannot begin to express my gratitude for all his love and support since the death of my wife, Susan."

Martin had met Susan at university, and her quiet support had given him self-confidence and made him a more complete person. The birth of their son, Leo, was the highest point of his life - followed by an unimaginable low when Susan died a day later from complications during the delivery.

"I should also add I have seen the cards that have been sent to Nigel and Kate, and a surprising number seem to be from old flames who are sincerely happy at his good fortune on capturing the heart of this very beautiful lady."

That earned a gentle punch from Kate, so at least she still liked him.

"I had to do some frantic research to get this speech right; so I found a book to help me and it said there were three important parts to the wedding ceremony:

The Aisle - down which the Bride walks to approach her new life as a wife.

The Altar - in front of which the couple take their vows of love and faith.

The Hymn - sung to celebrate the happy union.

I know Kate has read this book too, because as we walked into the church together, I could hear her muttering: "Aisle, Altar, Hymn; I'll alter him."

To Martin's eternal relief, his obligatory joke received a generous laugh.

"As I mentioned earlier I was only asked to step in at the last moment. Kate's father, had intended to be here to give her away, but was prevented from doing so by unforeseen circumstances."

And according to Nigel, Helen had said it was just another failure to attend a family event, to add to a very long list, both during their marriage and after their divorce. She wasn't surprised; although she was extremely angry, which might explain why she wasn't making the speech.

"I'm also sorry our father isn't here. Sadly he was taken from us five years ago. But I know he would've been proud beyond words today to see this happy couple."

He knew their mother still missed her husband every day. Without the focus of her whole married life, she'd lost all purpose - until Martin and Leo moved back to live with her.

"Finally then, may I ask you to raise your glasses to the bride and groom. Kate and Nigel." He lifted his champagne flute.

"KATE AND NIGEL," echoed the guests.

At last Martin was able to sit and relax. Kate leaned across, kissed him on the cheek and whispered a thank you in his ear.

Once the other speeches had been delivered and the tables cleared, the band began to play. Leo sat on his father's lap, still holding a champagne glass full of lemonade, with which he had enthusiastically drunk the toasts. He was in deep conversation with his grandmother about the band, the music, and how pretty Auntie Kate looked dancing with Uncle Nigel. Martha leaned over to Martin, tapping him on the shoulder to get his attention.

"You should go and ask Helen to dance," she said.

"I don't think she wants to Mum." Martin was concerned about the embarrassment of a public refusal.

"Nonsense. Of course she does. Anyway, the Father of the Bride should dance with the Bride's mother." She was using her 'I'm-your-mother-so-don't-mess-with-me' tone.

"Shouldn't I be dancing with you first?" he asked hopefully.

"Sorry, I'm spoken for," she said, taking Leo's glass, putting it on the table, then lifting him up and carrying him on to the dance floor.

Taking a deep breath, Martin stood and walked to Helen's chair. She was in conversation with the Best Man, and did not seem to notice Martin's arrival. After a couple of moments, when she still hadn't acknowledged him he realised he'd have to make the first move.

"Simon, please excuse the interruption. Helen, may I have this dance?"

She looked up at him with a strained expression. "I'm not sure I'm up to dancing at the moment."

"Please Helen, Mum insists; and you wouldn't want to put me in her bad books." Martin hoped his feeble attempt at humour might change her mind.

"All right then." Was there a hint of a smile? She stood up and removed her tailored jacket. A green silk dress clung to her body like a second skin, displaying her fantastic figure. He took her hand and proudly led her to the dance-floor. She looked stunning as ever, and he still couldn't believe she had an eighteen year old daughter. As he slipped his arm around her waist, the smell of her perfume filled his nostrils, and he was transported back to the night he'd spent in her bed. They danced well together and he gave a silent prayer of thanks to Susan for making him learn.

Helen looked at him determinedly. "Martin, about last week, it should never have happened. I'm so sorry I took advantage of you; it was very wrong of me."

"But I enjoyed being taken advantage of. Can't we do it again?" Just the idea made his stomach flip. She felt so good in his arms.

He felt her stiffen and pull away from him. "No! Never! Absolutely not. I can tell you're fond of me, but you know it's wrong. For God's sake I'm nearly as old as your mother."

"I don't believe that. How old are you?" Not that he really cared.

"Oh no, you don't get me like that. Trust me, I'm a lot closer to your mother's age than yours."

"Why should it matter?" Martin felt his frustration growing, this was the same argument they'd had before.

"It matters to me. Can't you see how ridiculous it is? Hell, I'm your twin brother's mother-in-law."

"I still don't think it should make any difference. We've met loads of times over the last six months, and you know we've spent more time talking to each other than anyone else. We have loads in common, and even my son thinks you're special. I know you like me too, so just admit it." Why couldn't she see what was so obvious to him?

She paused, seeming to gather her thoughts. The band segued into 'Night and day,' a song to which he'd always enjoyed dancing. For a moment he was transported into a dream, spinning this beautiful woman around the floor. Then her words shattered the happy illusion, the determination in her voice brooking no argument. "Look, I know you've grown fond of me, but it will never work. Please, just stay away. Don't visit, don't call, don't ring; find a nice woman your own age and settle down. And please, please don't tell anyone about what happened."

They finished their dance in silence. Martin returned to his seat. After obligatory dances with his mother, a couple of female relatives and Kate, he excused himself to take Leo home to bed.

*****

Following Susan's death, Martin and Leo had returned to live with Martha. Having grown accustomed to having both her sons close by, Martha had missed Nigel once he moved out, so she was insistent he and his new wife visit regularly. Very soon they were coming to dinner every week and on the fourth weekly visit, Nigel made an excuse to take Martin into the study.

The small room, once his father's sanctuary, was now Martin's office. As a technical book editor, he could work from home, allowing him to take Leo to school and collect him - at least when Martha didn't insist on doing it. Nigel sat on the small leather sofa and Martin on his usual office chair.

"I don't like to be nosy - well, yeah I do." Nigel grinned "But what is it between you and Helen?"

"What do you mean?" Martin had been dreading this conversation although he knew it had been inevitable.

"I mean she refuses all of Mum's invitations to come over here, and she always checks before visiting us to ensure you won't be around. It doesn't make sense since she seemed so fond of you and Leo before the wedding."

Martin was torn between keeping the promise to Helen and telling the brother from whom he had no secrets. "I expect she's busy, she has a business to run."

"No bro' it's more than that. Something's happened. You can't fool me." Having a twin brother meant you understood each other - often better than most other siblings or even parents. Whilst this could be a great advantage, there were times when it was a curse.

"I'm sure she'd say if something was wrong." Martin knew he couldn't mislead his brother but tried anyway.

"You know what it is, I can tell. Come on."

"I don't know that I can tell you. It would mean breaking a confidence." Even as he spoke, Martin could see that nothing was going to stop Nigel.

"But I've always kept secrets for you before."

Martin knew the truth of that but things had changed. "But you weren't married to Kate before."

"Come on fellah. Fess up."

Martin sighed. He'd known all along he'd have to tell all. "Well you know how we decided we'd sleep at Helen's house after your stag party. So we could walk from the town centre, when we were the worse for wear?"

"Yes. And by the way thanks for keeping me off that night sleeper to Inverness. A trip back from Scotland with a hangover would not have been much fun. So did something happen that night?"

Martin rolled his eyes. "You were pretty much unconscious by the time I got you back. Once I put you to bed and left you snoring fit to shake the house, I decided to take a shower. I left the lights off so I didn't disturb anyone.

Martin paused for a moment, bittersweet memories filling his thoughts. "After my shower, I sat there remembering how Susan and I used to shower together in the dark. Good fun when you have to feel your way around."

It was Nigel's turn to roll his eyes. Martin pulled a face. "I suppose I was there for about ten minutes, then headed back to my room."

*****

Helen was still awake when she heard the two young men returning. She knew why her daughter had fallen for Nigel: tall, handsome, with a roguish charm. Still, his brother was appealing too, in his own quiet way. Perhaps not quite so handsome, but certainly not ugly. He wasn't as rugged and muscled as Nigel, but had a slim athletic appearance, and best of all he was a good family man who doted on his young son. She had grown very fond of him during her many visits to their family home; if he had been older she could have been tempted.

After the divorce, she didn't miss Michael, but she did miss the intimacy. She had no intention of starting another relationship and hated the idea of casual sex - far too many risks. Besides, who needed a man when there were so many marvellous toys available?

But whilst she could usually give herself an orgasm, they were no substitute for a warm, man's body in her bed. It had been a bad night. Unusually she just couldn't seem to climax. She'd had several stiff drinks, but couldn't relax and enjoy the sensations. Now she wanted to scream in frustration.

The sound of running water made her want to pay a visit to the bathroom. She listened carefully after the shower stopped, and hearing nothing for ten minutes, she felt safe to slip across the hall, in the dark. She'd have liked an en-suite bathroom, still it was right opposite her bedroom. It seemed pointless putting on her nightie for a couple of seconds. She quietly opened the door, took two paces towards the bathroom - and fell into the arms of a naked man. It took only a moment to realise it was Martin. In her present state though, she didn't even stop to think, just wrapped her arms around him and enjoyed the feel of his body against hers.

After a moment of stillness, she grasped the back of his head and sought his mouth with her own. Their lips met and their tongues began a fierce duel. The touch of his skin against hers made her nipples stiffen, and despite the towel around his waist she could feel his response. She pulled the towel from him, threw it into the dark bathroom and took hold of his rapidly hardening manhood. The feel of the hot flesh in her hand drove all rational thought from her head. She only had one desire now and pulled him into her bedroom. Falling backwards on to the bed she pulled him on top of her.

"Please. Love me. I need you," she whispered, her voice hoarse with desire.

He didn't speak, but responded by nibbling at her ears and kissing her neck. It felt so much better than the toys she'd been using. She began moaning with pleasure, and the sound seemed to encourage him. His hands were squeezing her breasts and his thumbs teased her hard nipples. The feel of his muscled chest left her breathless. She slid her hands down across his slim waist to his firm muscled buttocks, which she used to pull him tighter against her. She could feel the wetness between her thighs.

As he kissed her neck she managed to take one of his nipples in her mouth, sucking it and then playfully giving it a nip with her teeth. He grunted in response, then spoke for the first time.

"Right you little vixen. You want to play with sharp teeth eh?"

He captured both her wrists in one of his hands and held them above her head. She felt exposed and vulnerable — and wildly excited. As she surrendered herself to him, he resumed his attack on her neck then her breasts. He began sucking and nipping, at first all round the soft pillows of flesh, but then having teased for a while, he took a nipple into his mouth, flicking it with his tongue. She felt an approaching climax. Suddenly the dam burst and she was chanting "yes, yes, yes". He stopped for a while and held her in his arms as she recovered. Then, just when she wanted to explore his body, he was gone.

She felt him kiss, lick and nibble his way across her stomach, pausing to invade her navel with his tongue, then across her abdomen. He knelt between her legs and planted kisses down the front of her left leg then up again nipping gently at the insides of her thighs with his teeth. She'd never had anyone love her like this, the sensations were unbearably exquisite. His lips and teeth resumed on her right leg. She needed him now, badly. Her voice seemed detached from her body as she begged him not to stop. Still his mouth teased and taunted her; she felt as though she had a volcano in her, building to a violent explosion. His mouth settled on her vulva, his tongue pressing gently on her clitoris and teasing her labia. She couldn't take much more. Little screams escaped from her mouth; it became hard to breathe; indescribable sensations were running up and down her body; then, in a blinding release, the most incredible orgasm of her life broke over her. Once more he held her as she lay quivering.

"Helen," he said softly, "I haven't got any... you know..."

"It'll be fine, just don't stop, please" Her desire to feel him inside her drove all other thoughts from her head. As she began to relax again she felt him move between her legs, and slip his erection into the folds of her soft enveloping sheath. She was complete, this was how it should be.

His mouth covered hers once more, she delighted in his taste, the taste of a man - it had been so long. He pulled back and plunged into her once more, making her gasp. She wanted to wrap her legs around him, pull him in and never let him go. He filled her, stretched her, the divine discomfort slowly turning to intense pleasure. He began to move slowly in and out, gently at first, then more vigorously until, as she felt his release within her, she had one last exquisite climax of her own.

"Thank you" she whispered.

"No, thank you," he replied. "That was incredible. You're incredible." He rolled to one side, pulling her to him. She lay her head on his chest and fell asleep, wrapped in his arms.


*****

"God, Martin. What happened in the morning?" Nigel looked astonished.

"Well Helen was less than pleased when she woke up. We had a row, she told me it was an awful mistake, and I should go as soon as possible. So I dragged you out, got a cab and brought you back here."

"So no wonder she's been avoiding you."

"Yes. And I think I finally understand why she wanted me to act as Father of the Bride." Martin had had time to think about it and had eventually figured it out.

"Why?"

"Well if I'd been Best Man she'd've had to sit next to me throughout the reception whereas as Father of the Bride I had to sit between Kate and Mum."

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byTory_del_Ricoh© 7 comments/ 15450 views/ 4 favorites

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