That Wedding Night

Although not specifically stated, all persons portrayed in this short story are 18 years of age and older.

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The black and vastly empty mind I have, leaves me very little manoeuvring for my imagination to roam wildly. My dreams are always pretty uneventful and when I do recall them, it's rare that they'd be there the following morning. However, tonight, I'm plagued with the horror that is sleeping in a crampy, narrow bed with my younger sister.

The hotel room we're currently in is one of the last available and we're lucky to even have it. The room feels cold and uncomfortable and the ominous light coming from the hallway outside the door doesn't help much. It's dark enough in this part of the world but there's no moonlight to be seen through the sheer curtains in front of the windows, leaving only illuminated by a light on Georgia's side. I continually shift uncomfortably in the bed.

Trying to find a suitable position, I've been lying here for about an hour and a half--I think--and I still have not been able to fall asleep successfully. The faint noises coming from behind me, I'd mistaken for Georgia snoring, or rather sleeping peacefully like an angel. But strangely, the movements in the bed became more apparent. Louder and louder, the noises travelled into my ears, slightly vibrated whatever's inside and began to awaken whatever slumber I was even in.

The noise came from the left, from my sister. With grungy eyes, I tilt my head back over my shoulder towards her, noticing a large silver tablet blasting brightly onto her face. The sounds turned into groans; wet and loud. But the next groan which was high, sensual and orgasmic, shook me upwards unintentionally.

I now stare at her quizzically. "What are you doing?"

Her face turns to mine, briefly unaware of the situation, before her eyes widen in terror, sheepfully. "Liam! I thought you were asleep!" she stuttered quickly.

I didn't respond immediately, rather my eyes moved to the clock on the far wall, trying to make sense of the time. As I do this, my sister is fumbling the device in her fingers clumsily, attempting to lower the volume, turn the screen off, cover it with the duvet and hide it under herself, all simultaneously.

"It's two in the morning? Why are you still up?" I continue, my vision still extremely blurry.

She avoids looking at me as she tries to figure out what to do with the tablet. She seems hesitant, unsure whether she should admit why she is awake and why she couldn't sleep. I wait for the silence, until it finally becomes unbearable from the booms of the wedding afterparty going on downstairs at the ground floor. And then she finally speaks.

"I couldn't sleep," she replies, still with no direct eye contact.

"Well, being on that thing this late won't help," I advised. "What are you even doing?"

Her face flushes pink, even in the blackened room. There are a few seconds of pause again, before she answers. "I was just watching some videos..."

My brows furrowed together confusedly. "Videos?"

"Yeah..." she quietly murmured, avoiding my questioning gaze.

There's another long pause, which eventually causes me to grow tired. "Well, why don't you just try going to sleep? Okay?" I ask. The question makes her look at me and I can feel the tension in the air. She glances at me as if she wants to protest my suggestion and counter with something, but she doesn't. For once, she is speechless. I'm tempted to add another line to the brief conversation, but instead I remain quiet too as I watch her fumble around the bed, finding the right position. She settles down, finally and looks back at me waiting for something. She heaves heavily, her expression saddening momentarily.

"Goodnight, Liam," she whispered.

I nod, not trusting myself to speak, to jinx myself. The last thing I wanted to do was to ruin my own chance at getting some sleep. I attempt to simply close my eyes and drift away from reality. I lay back down in my original position, my back facing Georgia, trying to go to sleep, though my mind wouldn't let me. Instead, images from the day before flashed through my brain--my parents arguing loudly over the smallest mundane inconveniences, my cousins and nephews playing games on my laptop and then the wedding itself. At first the event had brought me happiness, but after the reception, all I could remember was how lonely I felt. I didn't understand then how lonely my life had become because I was happy and had no problems. The fact that my Mom had cheated on Dad, and is now remarrying, left our family completely ruined, ruined in a multitude of broken shards. And yet somehow, despite my disappointment, my disgust and hatred, I stayed strong and kept smiling, for the sake of Georgia. Now, I wonder, who would have stayed strong throughout everything if not me?

After spending so many nights worrying about nothing in particular, I couldn't handle another sleepless night. So without thinking twice, I spread my arms across my half of the mattress and within seconds, I fell fast asleep alast, dreaming of the wedding, the guests, my friends and family, and of course, that stupid tablet Georgia been constantly fixated on. I didn't, however, get to sleep like I thought I would--instead my dreams consisted of endless scenarios involving Georgia throughout the day.

In some, I was sitting on a patio, staring out into the darkness with an icy drink in my hand, listening to the soft sounds of laughter and voices, the sound of raindrops against the irregular stone slabs. Some scenes involved me walking around the city streets, watching people passing by while I held my phone in my hand. Sometimes, Georgia would sit beside me, her head resting on my shoulder with a smile on her lips. Other times, the two of us were making love amidst the chaos of the wedding preparations, with my arm draped protectively around her slender body and her mouth--

I shook back up in the bed again, sweating profusely. But, to the corner of my left eye, that familiar ray from Georgia's tablet was once again causing the room to turn a light blue. And again, the noises returned, albeit this time slightly lower.

My little sister's eyes were shut closed, not asleep, but with her teeth bitten into her lower lip and her left arm under the covers shaking violently. Several small gasps mix within the air around her.

My heart sinks at the sight and I reposture myself, with my fingers squeezing the bridge of my nose. But additionally, as soon as my movement undergoes, the disturbance appears to her and she jolts out of her trance to face me and the tablet quickly clutches tightly in under her right armpit, still on.

Before I can assess the event, she jumps up and hides herself under the duvet, whining carelessly. "Liam..." she says rather disappointingly.

"Georgia? Are you watching porn?" I ask.

She doesn't reply--just burrows further underneath the blanket. After a short moment, I am sure I heard a muffled whimper come out of her--almost like a tiny gasp--but when I pull back the duvet a little, she sits, legs crossed in an abnormal angle, her head leant down into her palms, her legs weirdly more bare than normal. Her hair cascades across the pillowcase, covering her entire body almost entirely; her hands tucked between her thighs, trying to avoid me, her hair blocking most of her view.

I frown, unsure, staring intensely at her, before sighing. "Georgia--"

"I'm... I'm sorry," she rushed to reply.

"Don't apologise," I said nonchalantly, wondering where those words came from exactly. I looked at her face; it was distorted with embarrassment. "Go back to sleep, please," I groaned, tiredly, reaching my hand over and running my fingers along her shoulder.

"You're not angry at me..." she breathed slowly. She looked vulnerable and scared.

"Of course not, why would you think that?" I asked, perplexed.

She sniffled a couple of times as her bottom lips now trembles. "I thought..." Her body is incapable of completing the sentence, instead, she buries the pillow into her face frustrated. "Oh God," she breathes irritably, under the duvet.

"Georgia," I intervened, "It's fine. Really. But you could've gone to the bathroom to do... you know."

Finally, she lifts her head from out of the pillow. "But I can't!" Her voice echoes the room, bouncing off the cheap and paper-thin walls.

"What do you mean you can't?"

"Because I can't," she reiterated, lowering her tone, stuttering anxiously, biting onto her bottom lip once more, as if afraid to say the next word aloud, even though she knows it already. "It's not the same..."

For a space of minutes there was a complete lack of response--the only other sound echoing around us was the faint whisper of drunkards childishly bantering with one another outside. Accompanying this, were the moans from her tablet, that continued to play throughout the chat.

I stared blankly--not noticing the pleasurable moans of the porn--for a few seconds, waiting to see her continuation, but to no avail.

"It," I pause, reluctant. "It... It's not the same?"

She nods, although I'm still completely clueless as to what she means by this.

"The same as what exactly?" I questioned.

She takes a deep breath, looking at me in the eyes--and then with a determined look, she adds surprisingly, "When I'm alone."

"So--"

"So, I wanted to know what it felt like, with... you," she pauses. "Here..."

My heart begins to pound in my chest once again, as a million different scenarios race through my head.

"It's not the same, so you tried touching yourself, while I'm beside you, asleep," I say, although slightly lying at the conclusion.

"I'm sorry..." she says once more. "I'm sorry," she notes for herself. "I know it's wrong." Her voice is almost lost amongst the constant background noise and we continue to stare aimlessly at each other.

I swallow, nervously, suddenly very aware that every cell in my body is tingling at the thought. "You... You don't have to apologise," I murmur, unable to tear my gaze from hers.

"Do you want me to leave?" she asks. "Is that why you're not falling asleep, like expected?" She chuckles, attempting to playfully make light of the situation. I laugh softly too and there's a slight relief that follows, the tension in the room declining steadily, until one of us has to break it.

Georgia, having embarrassed herself to a point of no return, places her hands from between her thighs and plants them on her scalp, yawning and stretching in the process, while also exposing her pantieless and shaved sex. For a second, I just sit there, staring at her bare, nude vulva and the sparkling wetness drooping around it.

"No," I blurt out. "No." My heart beats faster as I stare, which continues to escalate further as she stretches her limbs, her labias unzipping smoothly apart. "I mean--no. Not that. That's not it at all. Please, don't go anywhere."

"Okay. I won't," she mutters in response. As she settles back down into her original stance, with her knees tucked underneath her chin, she finally covers her privates with her small, child-like feet. But, after a moment, her eyes meet mine again, and again she seems to want to say something. This time, however, she doesn't, again, and we both end up returning our gazes downward to watch the screen of her tablet shift colours.

"Shit," she heaves under her breath, turning the tablet off for the first time tonight, probably.

I cough. "Why, out of all nights, did you want to do... this?"

"I... I always do it at--"

"Woah, too much detail," I interrupt.

"But it's true. I can't fall asleep without having to... you know." She rolls her shoulders forward as she shifts awkwardly closer to me. "And... sometimes... I imagine that you're there... watching me."

"Watching you?" I repeat, puzzled.

"Yeah," she innocently replies, smiling shyly. The corners of her lips twitch upward as well, although I think it's another one of her jokes.

"And?" I prod her, waiting for the punchline to come.

"And... nothing."

I smiled amusedly. "Nothing?"

Her face turns red and her cheeks start melting. And the effect of the poor lighting of the room highlights the way her blush reaches all the way to her ears as she avoids my view. "Uhm, well. I sometimes picture you... helping..."

"Helping?" I say, exactly in the same voice, over again, puzzled. I really hope she isn't suggesting--or trying to suggest-- that I'd help her relieve herself. Because that definitely would not happen. I would never do that.

She nods timidly. "You would help me."

My racing heart stops beating for just a second and I can feel it pulsate carefully in rhythm, pounding in sync with hers, matching her breathing. I inhale sharply through my nose, trying hard to keep myself composed and collected and to keep myself as calm as possible, because even if I were to lose control right now, I knew I would regret ever doing so later.

"Oh. Okay," I say awkwardly. It feels awkward. So, so uncomfortable. We're supposed to be sleeping right now, and we were supposed to ignore that we were sharing a tiny bed together. But instead, we're just sitting here in a dark hotel room, staring at each other in silence, the atmosphere is tense and heavy with unsaid things. It feels like time is frozen in place; neither one of us wants to move, or talk, or do anything at all.

She starts fidgeting relentlessly, shifting her weight from side to side.

"What if you could just watch me..." she boldly states out of nowhere. It is so unexpected that I didn't manage to respond immediately and when I realised that she didn't stop, I finally managed to reply.

"Huh?" I ask.

She chuckles once, shyly, hiding behind the pillow. She's nervous again, I realise.

"What if you could just watch me," she repeats.

"Uh--"

"I mean... I could do this," she says in a low tone, moving her body slightly, revealing her tight slit and slowly, ever so gradually, sliding down the bed sheet until the tips of her toes are visible underneath. "Like this?" she said softly, slowly pulling herself toward me.

"Georgia..." I whisper aggressively, shaking my head.

She looks up at me, and as if she can sense the distress radiating off of me, she stops abruptly in her tracks."Please..." she mumbles. "Don't look away."

"What? No... Why would--"

Without taking her eyes of mine, she quickly removes the clingy, pastel-green cami top from herself, exposing herself fully; her skin pale and smooth, her curves prominent enough that I could count her ribs and hips perfectly.

"There..." she exhales.

"Wha--wha--"

She pushes herself forward, bringing herself down inches from my unmindful body, her legs brushing over mine gently, before I can finish my stammering. I can't bring myself to understand anything. What I feel, I don't recognise. All I am able to think about is how incredibly close she is, and how much desire she has.

"Look at me," she whispers. She's super near, I can practically feel the warmness emanating from her body, seeping through her skin and into mine.

She waits expectantly, staring directly into my eyes and holding onto my look, completely still; her movements slow as she leans her hand towards her crotch, soon gradually circling it with her fingers.

"Just, " she exhales mildly. "Just tell me what you see."

I glance back at her with an immense reluctancy written all over my face.

"Georgia..."

A gentle, but soft smile takes over her features, and she leans her body even closer, placing her forehead against mine, the tips of her soft curls resting gently on my cheek. Our foreheads rest together and I can barely breathe anymore.

As she brings her spare hand to cup my face, a small stub hits my chest. I glance down to see her breasts pressed firmly against my torso, her nipples erect and solid. They seem so beautiful, but the thought of actually touching them--grabbing the young, modest tissue--in any way, makes me shudder.

"Stop thinking," Georgia tells me confidently. I take a deep shaky breath. "Tell me what you see."

"Your eyes," I admit quietly. "They're beautiful, Georgia." The emotion in her eyes was fathoms deep, yet they carried the warmth and life of a sunlit surface. They had a thousand hues of blue and a small touch of hazel, radiating in softly swooping arcs. "And your lips," I continued, unable to resist. Her lips were full and tender and inviting; her bottom lip protruded into a natural pout, while the upper one was curled upward. When she smiled, a dimple appeared above her mouth. "They're incredible."

"C'mon," she heaves laboriously. "What else?"

"Your hair," I say as my gaze falls on her long golden locks, which seemed so soft and curly that I wanted to run my fingers through it. When I look back up to her eyes, she's already staring into mine intently, almost pleadingly. "I love how it looks when it's all tousled."

I hear the faint noises of the cotton bed sheets ruffle underneath her. Her hand began to sway between her crotch, tentatively at first then quicker. And when it became apparent that I wasn't going to move away, she started to inch her way upwards, closer, faster. "Please, keep going," she murmurs huskily, her breathing accelerating.

"Your hips... They seem so round... and firm," I mumble in return, and for a moment, I let my eyes roam up and down her thighs as she continues her ascent. "Your thighs look soft and warm. They add a great contrast to your legs," I add, again looking her up and down slowly.

"You can touch them," she breathes in between her words. I hesitate only briefly before my hand lands atop of her left leg. I rub it leisurely, feeling how silky her skin is. And how perfect it is. How good it feels. My touch is light and delicate, making her whole body tremble. "It feels so nice... So, right..." she moans silently, closing her eyes.

A sudden urge to touch her body overtakes me. A need to feel her naked flesh beneath my hands, caressing it. I reach for it, gradually running my palm up her thigh, slowly pushing her inner thigh, slowly running my fingers lightly over the smooth curve of her lower belly. When I lift my gaze to her face again, her eyes are still shut.

"Do you want me to go higher?" My eyes retrail up her neck until it finally meets hers. She opens her sight, blinks in shock and is obviously caught off guard by my inquiry.

"Yeah..." she nods hesitantly.

I murmur incomprehensibly to myself as I lean forward, gently running my fingers along her waist and crawl them up her inner thigh, until my palm is placed, mere millimetres from her womanhood. I can marginally feel the hood of her clitoris rub against the top knuckle of my middle finger.

"Oh God..." she whimpers.

I breathe quietly, still concentrating on tracing her outline, caressing every bit of bare flesh that comes within reach of my fingertips.

Slowly, very slowly, I raise both of my index fingers and tightly brush my thumb across her entrance, causing her to moan loudly in response. As I press against her opening, slowly massaging my thumb around her clit, she shuts her eyes and cocks her head backwards against my shoulder.

She moans blissfully, adding, "What about my boobs? You never mentioned my boobies."

I hum lowly in response, continuing to massage her clitoris. "Well," I begin, my lips hovering just above her ears, not having moved an inch since I touched her skin. "Your boobies are unique, I'd say. They look like a perfect size, a perfect handful."

"Mmm..." she groans lightly. "And what about my butt? Do you like it?"

I chuckle softly. "You know I do. It's pretty bubbly considering your small figure."

"And my arms?" Her tone becomes ragged, her breaths unable to exhale naturally.

"Beautiful," I responded.

"My feet?" She almost fails to speak, her teeth grinding her wet lips.