Roll Me Away

Kissing my chest, she answered, "Of course I do. You're a wonderful boyfriend." Then, concerned, she asked, "Why are you even asking? Did I do something wrong?"

"No, babe, you're perfect. Our relationship has been kind of a roller-coaster, I just want to make sure you feel loved. I know your friend Dianne doesn't like me much, and then seeing men in the restaurant look at you, I started feeling... inadequate."

Arya's expression softened. "Oh, Christopher, is that what was on your mind at dinner?" She crawled on top of me so we were face-to-face. "You silly man, the only person's opinion you should worry about is mine. Dianne is a good friend, but an overprotective trans-mother hen. As for men staring at me, believe me, the only eyes I see are yours."

As Arya was speaking, I felt her hand reach down and fondle my limp cock, which didn't stay that way. "You know, I used to hate my body, but after seeing you worship it so much, I don't. I promise, you make me feel beautiful and loved. She gave me a passionate kiss, I felt her stroking my erect soldier.

"This doesn't feel inadequate to me," she murmured, then asked teasingly, "who owns this cock?"

"You do," I gasped, because there was no other correct answer.

Moving down, she began rubbing the tip against one of her nipples as she stroked it. I let out a long happy moan; this was heaven.

"Do you want to cum on your girlfriend's tits?" she asked, and I could only nod my consent.

Increasing her hand speed, she also continued rubbing my cockhead on her nipple. Within seconds, my whole body stiffened and I gave out a cry, emptying my load across her chest. After my orgasm tremors passed, I pulled her up next to me, apologizing profusely for my insecurity.

"I forgive you," Arya whispered, giving me a loving kiss. How ironic that she'd come to Truckee to apologize to me, now here I was, apologizing to her.

After a few minutes, I got up and brought my lover a warm wet washrag to clean my semen off her chest. Tomorrow was the wedding, so I wouldn't have time to launder the bed linens again!

~~~~~~~~~~

It was about 15 miles from Truckee to the wedding venue at Crystal Bay, just over the Nevada border. We were leaving for the wedding venue at noon. I was ready by 11:45am, so were Roy and Ethan. I had to admit, in their suits the twins cleaned up nicely, both over 6 feet tall with dark wavy hair and strong chin lines. Darryl Martin may have sucked as a husband, but he sure made handsome sons with my sister!

As I waited anxiously, shifting my weight from one foot to the other, I felt for the lump of the ring box in my right hand pocket of my suit jacket, just wanting to make sure it was there in case I needed it.

I heard the door upstairs open, and Gretchen came down first. Wearing a light pink jacket dress that flattered her curves, she also wore matching pink flats. Her hair was pulled in a ponytail to one side, and she was in full makeup, a rare thing indeed. I had to admit that my sister looked damned good for being 44.

Arya was right behind her, although I barely recognized her. Gretchen had done quite the glow-up on my girl. Like my sister, she was wearing full makeup. Her dress was shiny teal silk, single-sleeved that ended just above her knees. With one shoulder exposed, it was sexy as hell. Equally shocking was her matching 3" heels. I'd never seen Arya in anything but plain flats; the heels really accented her calves. Her hair was in the same style as my sister's.

My sister saw my stunned expression and cracked, "Close your mouth, little brother, before you start catching flies."

Trying to recover what dignity I had left I told the girls, "You both look amazing. Absolutely gorgeous." I went to kiss Arya, but my sister stopped me, threatening my life if I messed up Arya's makeup.

We took two cars in case someone wanted to leave earlier. Gretchen drove her Subaru with Ethan riding, while Roy unsurprisingly joined Arya and I in my Honda. By now it was kind of obvious Roy was developing a crush on Arya. I didn't mind; it was probably an ego boost for Arya, and showed my nephew had excellent taste.

Once on the road, I looked in the rearview and saw the kid looking a little grim. "Everything alright, Roy?" I asked. I expected the typical response you get from 18-year-olds - a grunt - but was surprised that he actually spoke!

"I hate Ethan," he blurted out, "girls always talk to him and stuff. Even when he's an asshole, they keep talking to him. I don't get it!" Yikes! I was just hoping he'd ask me to turn up the air conditioner or change the radio channel. I wasn't ready for this!

Arya, however, was. She answered right away, "Roy, your brother may get girls to talk to him, but how many actual girlfriends has he had? I'll bet the answer is none, right?"

Roy thought about it, then replied, "Yeah, I guess so."

"In the little time I've spent with you two, you seem the one who's more sensitive," Arya told him, "Believe me, women - not shallow high school mean girls, but real women - prefer a sensitive man like you. You're going to be fine." I was amazed that my girlfriend was now hyping up my nephew.

"I'm a little nervous about the wedding reception," the boy confessed, "if there's a cute bridesmaid, how do I ask her to dance?" I smiled inwardly. Knowing our cousin Lucy was in her mid-30s, I thought to myself, If you like cute cougars, boy are you in luck!

Arya nodded and said, "I'll tell you what, Roy. If you want, when the dancing starts, I'll dance with you first to break the ice. Single women are a competitive breed; as soon as they see the two of us out there, you won't have to chase them, they'll be coming after you."

Arya might have been blowing smoke in Roy's ear about being chased by women, but it was effective. I could see the confidence in his expression. What a woman!

~~~~~~~~~~

The wedding was at a church up in the foothills in Incline Village, while the reception was at the Palace in Crystal Bay, on the northern shore of Lake Tahoe. It was a short service, with about sixty guests attending. Being a bit sentimental, I have to admit I got choked up when they were pronounced husband and wife, but not because I was remembering my wedding to Maureen. It was because I was imagining Arya and me as the bride and groom.

There was a bridal party receiving line on the way into the reception, which is where I greeted my cousin Lucy Mason (formerly Beatty) and her new husband Gene Mason, and Lucy's new stepson Dale. Lucy seemed over the moon; I congratulated them and introduced Arya as my girlfriend.

Then I met the maid of honor, Marisa Haber, who was warm and charming until I introduced Arya. That's when her expression became rather cold. "Oh. Lucy told me you were attending as a single," she commented in a rather clipped tone.

Trying to be gracious, I replied, "I was, but then thankfully Arya was able to join me. My girlfriend knows how important my family is to me, and pulled a lot of strings to get here." Marisa merely gave us both a pained smile, as if politely trying to ignore a fart, and we moved on.

Being so small, Arya got a little buzzed on champagne by the time the dancing started, publicly displaying her affection. I didn't mind at all. Then, true to her word, after the bride and groom's dance,, she grabbed Roy's hand, leading him on the dance floor for a slow song. Being over 6', he nervously towered over her, but seemed to relax as she swayed in his arms.

By the time the song was over, the boy was grinning like a Cheshire Cat. I was happy to see Arya had predicted correctly; not but a few minutes after the song had ended, Roy was back out there with a tall slinky bridesmaid in his arms. Meanwhile, I secretly took pleasure in seeing his brother Ethan seated at a back table by himself.

Arya was having a great time, and after we'd shared a few dances, other guys asked her if she'd dance with them. I certainly had no objection; the fact that several good-looking young men wanted to dance with her only reinforced the message that Arya Bowes was a desirable woman. I could see the happiness in her face. Her former identity as James Bowman was dead, buried, and forgotten.

When I'd seen Arya out with that assclown Eric, we weren't exclusive and I'd gotten seriously jealous. Seeing her dancing tonight I felt none of that, because there was no question she was leaving with me. The only question remaining was, would she be going home as my girlfriend, or as my fiancée?

While Arya was out dancing, Marisa Haber showed up at our table unexpectedly. She asked me for a dance, so not to be rude, I agreed. Marisa was an attractive woman, same height as me, 5'10", and very solidly built, probably a 36C bustline, who smelled of patchouli oil. She also looked to be around my age, I was guessing in her early 40s. Once on the dance floor, she somehow steered us to a corner in the back, out of Arya's sight, and started asking questions.

"So, tell me Christopher, this odd little girlfriend of yours, she looks like a gangly teenager. Where did you find her, Juvenile Hall?" Marisa chuckled at her little joke, but I wasn't amused.

"I met her at work. She was a customer, and I sold her a Vespa," I replied flatly, "I thought she was cute so I asked her out."

Marisa shook her head. "Honestly, Christopher, what do men see in younger women? I mean, a man your age has practically nothing in common with a girl that young."

I felt my anger rising, but before I could respond, the maid of honor dug herself a deeper hole. "I mean, look at her! She's got the shapeliness of a surfboard! When you take her to the beach, is it for a picnic, or do you ride the waves with her?" The song ended. Marisa and I were no longer dancing, now we were simply standing in a corner of the event space behind a fake potted tree.

Marisa may have had a nice-looking exterior, but it was obvious she was plenty ugly inside. I was really getting pissed at her, but given this was my cousin's wedding reception, I didn't want to make a scene. "There's not a damned thing wrong with her body," I hissed, "I happen to think she's perfect!"

Marisa laughed, playfully slapping my chest. "Oh, come now, Christopher. While I admire your loyalty, you can hardly expect me to believe that. I, on the other hand, am definitely a real woman. I keep my body in fantastic shape, I go to the gym several times a week, I follow a macrobiotic diet, and I've even taken courses in tantric sex. Trust me, I've never had a lover complain."

Marisa lowered her voice, and confided, "You know, Lucy told me you were divorced and available. If you gave me the chance, I'd prove myself to be ten times the woman your little girlfriend is."

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. This bullshit needed to stop!

"All right, Marisa, hold on a second," I quietly growled, "you're talking like us getting together is even a possibility! Let's get one thing straight, it's NOT! There's only one woman I'm interested in, and that's Arya. Unless she tells me to go kick rocks, I'm her man and there's nothing you or anyone else can do to change my mind. You got that?"

Apparently Marisa did get it, and judging by her scowl, didn't like it. "Lucy was totally wrong about you," she scoffed, "you're just a pathetic loser. You and your little weirdo girlfriend can both fuck off!" She stormed off, headed back to the bridal party table.

"So much for the maid of honor having any," I muttered aloud, "what a fucking bitch!"

"Good thing I like losers," a voice said quietly behind me, making me stagger from surprise as I turned around.

"ARYA!" I exclaimed, clutching my chest, "you scared the shit out of me!" Stepping out from behind the fake tree she was still in her dress, but her hair was now down and she was barefoot. "How long have you been standing there?" I asked.

Arya was grinning like a kid who'd won a bicycle. "Pretty much the whole time. I noticed Marisa had her eyes on you for most of the evening, so when I saw the two of you alone in the corner, I followed you. With my shoes off, I can move pretty quietly."

I wasn't sure if I should be horrified, or thrilled. "So you heard everything?"

Arya stepped up and wrapped her arms around my waist, holding me closely. "Every word. I was a little concerned at first, but as it turned out, I didn't need to be. You're exactly the man your sister said you were." She looked up at me, and her eyes were filling with happy tears.

At that moment, what was a conundrum yesterday was not one anymore; it was clear to me what I needed to do. Feeling again for the ring box in my pocket, I asked, "Arya, will you walk down to the beach with me?"

Taking my hand in hers, she smiled through her tears and nodded.

"I'd love to."

~~~~~ END ~~~~~