The Wedding Present Ch. 02

Waking up from a heavy drinking session is never fun, never what we like to think of as pleasant, but oh god were there some banging heads and aching bodies in the guest house that morning.

As the early sun attempted to push it's way through to the interior of the room, already weary though the day was fresh and young, it had tapped at the window and with a sigh from the mushroom grey drapes, allowed in. But it was all in vain and as a punishing layer of cloud came over the sun was defeated. But even that feeble show had been enough to test the tempers of a few of the eyelids in Tamara's room, which in turn caused a chain reaction as the heaving body's clung to the last blissful vestiges of sleep, tongues rang bells for moisture, more moisture, and pulled at the strings that connected their nauseated, empty stomachs and aching kidney's.

"Urrh...fuckin' 'ell." Came the low growling from one of the hen nights many cohorts, most of whom could put it away, but none were twenty five anymore. It hurts more as you get older, as you are meant as they say, to mature. And bed shared, between four for a whole night was bound to develop snags. Right now, there were a whole lot of snags in that b+b, and that was just their room.

There comes a moment post piss up slumber when you have to move. Body bells have gone off for too long to be ignored but how, do you untangle such a mass without at least fraying a few tempers, without unwittingly elbowing your friend in the breast or face?

Tamara had to get up, but as she turned around she noticed the somewhat irritatingly fresh faced Amelia who sat serenely beside the bed in an armchair, looking ready for the day even. What an insult! The sheer mockery of the woman.

"Alright Tamara?" She said. "Feeling thirsty?"

Tamara did not respond, not outwardly.

"I've got some lemonade?" She offered, her tone optimistic and upbeat.

She'd temporarily won a reprieve in Tamara's eye's and with that a hand came out in front of her clutching a glass of gently fizzing clear liquid.

"Ooh, heaven!" Proclaimed a very thirsty Tamara behind her teeth and heaved her weight off the crowded plinth towards her sweet salvation. Taking hold of the glass with a slightly shaking hand, her thirsty lips met the cold fizz and sucked and gulped at the cold lemony contents. She could feel the chill liquid seep down her insides. It was heaven! But as she drained the last she needed to lie down again as her head thrummed, the brief flirtation with vertical living over she resumed her temporary bed life existence and the comforting but not so comfortable feel of warm body's, happy to surrender under the veil of sleep.

Outside the rain muted the noise of the traffic and it's soft cloak set about the town sending the previous night packing, the smells of the takeaways washed away with the piss as it splashed along the curbs. A beer soaked shirt, hung on a street sign like a bereft and sodden monument of a snapshot to some random life, here was the day.

Around an hour had elapsed before a door opened, creaking on its worn hinges before a..."Ta-da!" Amelia walks in with a large plate piled high with bacon butty's smothered in sauce.

"Afraid they're all ketchup." She announces to the room.

"O' y'r a star!" Someone shouts and the bed is awakened by that delicious smell. Limbs clash with body's like so many spanners bouncing off of tyres as a lust for bacon overrides the pain of elbowed ribs and breasts.

"Brides first!" Pips in Amelia matronly as a pair of eager, ring clad hands are beaten off the pile.

Meanwhile back at home, Simon is consumed with lustful thoughts about his bride as he lies, cock in hand in his bed. He was wanting her to have been bad! Wishing he could be with her in this precise moment, her straddling him still wearing all her slutty last night's garb. Her presumably fish net stockings....He'd managed to persuade Tamara to text him a sneaky picture of her in what she was wearing after Tamara had teased the hell out of him by saying how "hot 'n dirty" she looked and how she "seemed to be eager to make the most of her night."

He imagined the little black dress she had on riding up high, and in his mind she wouldn't shower before sex with him either, the heat from her unwashed groin sending out waves of pheromonal sent to pleasure his nose and seduce his mind.

He longed to feel the presence of her body because he missed her and because of what he dreamt she might have been tempted to do on her last night of freedom.

Teasingly there'd come another text from Tamara late that night saying "Tamara is having lots of fun ;)" This got him instantly aroused as it opened the door to his ever lurking imagination while he wanked his cock.

But apart from pleading with Amelia, ever since they'd had a bit of a talk about him "eroticising Tamara's flirtatious, adventurous side" as she'd put it.....and ever since he'd, with some trepidation, begged her to somehow steal for him, his bride to be's left over dirty knickers after her hen night......You should have seen the expression in her face after he'd blurted that one out. Her words palpable with revultion at first. "Oh you men are gross!" "But I suppose, those intimate areas hold a lot of seductive power for guys, and so if you're willing to allow her to fully enjoy what is the very last of her freedom.....then it's not really a big ask is it." Before adding. "Don't see why I should have to be the soiled knicker retriever, bu'...." She'd tailed off in slightly feigned exasperation.

He imagined Tamara slowly fessing to him so teasingly, the erotic details of her little escapade, her big night out.....before inching up the bed. He slid downward in his mind, her body towered over him. He so wanted to be smothered up against her in her dirty, used knickers.....Simon was losing himself in his imagination, not knowing just how real his fantasy was becoming.

As five hungry girls chowed down on a plate of greasy bacon butty's, only the one chose to sit it out as she slumped in a ball under a duvet, tormented by her alcohol demons. The rest of the crew were suffering a little but actually, still quite abuzz from the night before.

"Tamara you FUCKED him you dirty cow!" Said one of the girls as they were retracing their steps from the night before, her eye's widening in a shock that was simultaneously a delight. She envied her friend her cool audacity and revelled in the brazenness of her slutty acts.

"Yea well, better to head out with a bang!" Calls out another which had most of the chomping crowd in stitches, made all the funnier for their bacon and ketchup stuffed mouths.

After they managed to calm themselves the mood shifted. Were we really that bad? They began to ask themselves. We shouldn't have let this happen. We shouldn't have encouraged her we should've curtailed her desires not actively advanced them and encouraged them. These were the thoughts that now began to nibble away at the hedonism of the night before, and a dichotomy of mixed emotions played out in the heads of all present, well, except maybe Amelia who seemed as cool as ever.

But what was the bride thinking? How was she truly feeling?

Tamara can you remember much of last night? Piped Amelia who had so far remained, it might be said, slightly aloof over there in the armchair. Tamara shielded her eye's from the gaze of the others, hand over her brow.

"Yea I remember all of it." She lied. But then removing her hand. "Not proud....but? And she shrugged as if faced with the inevitable, the odds were stacked against her anyway and the contest practically rigged.

"Then I think it might be time we got rid of those don't you?" Amelia's gaze took an accusatory and commanding tone as she gave a nod to Tamara's crotch.

The others all watch on, wondering what the deal was with Amelia but at the same time, not forgetting her little accident outside the takeaway, even if she had.

Quickly she imposed her leadership and authority over the group by striking a more conciliatory tone.

"If Simon finds out about these...." She said almost softly. "Your life won't be worth living!"

That caught Tamara off guard enough for her to seize the moment as suddenly her hands grabbed hold of Tamara's still on, slutty and I might add, pissed in knickers by the waist and tugged with some force as Tamara reacted, trying to prevent this unexpected humiliation by rolling on her side. Amelia was too composed though, too on it and won the day as that cheap slutty garment was stripped from under her, and Tamara's naked scissoring legs said goodbye to modesty or even dignity, all in front of a tittering crowd.

The truly filthy pants hung on Amelia's finger now like something ripped from a carcass by a hungry vulture, and as she stood victorious, she had the room.

A deep wave of shame plunged it's way through Tamara as memory bumping awkwardly into emotions she'd practically shelved for the last sixteen hours, came rushing into her consciousness, demanding to be felt and their sentiments heard. She was embarrassed, but didn't want to show it, she was still a little bit captivated by the thrill of the night, the unshackling from convention, and breaking of taboo. Hell, she'd allowed a man who wasn't her husband to be to have sex with her, in the middle of the street, in full view of her closest friends, some of whom are married themselves. All of them she was sure, hadn't, couldn't and wouldn't be so damned promiscuous and so blatantly slutty......would not have taken themselves to the gutter as she did.

All of this ran through her as her attention was trapped by the piss and spunk soaked knickers before her, the shame and understanding were digging away at the bubble of booze imbibed protection.

"I think you should get in the shower Tamara, mightn't wash the slut out of you....." She added with a smile and a wink. "But it might get you smelling a bit fresher!"

The other girls were watching this little spat intently. Tamara, sensing a reprieve from Amelia's moral outburst, countered back.

"You were meant to be looking out for me last night instead, you were egging me on!"

"Yea but you enjoyed every bit of it!" Came Amelia's quick response.

"Oh fuck off!" Tamara's face was now blushing red.

"But you di-id...." Sang Amelia.

Tamara stepped forward, charged up now for the counter offensive. A tussle ensued and Tamara tried to grab the slutty garment, still hanging from Amelia's finger as she tucked it behind her back.

"Give it!" Demanded Tamara, but Amelia was too quick, alert and fresh. Tamara was still half trashed and she jumped and wiggled when Amelia unexpectedly sank a cool forearm down through the cleft of her arse cheeks before delivering the knuckle of her thumb against her ripe little tush, and as a sharp squeal came from Tamara she gave up the contest, retracting her hand. But Tamara, then stepping back against the side of the bath, practically fell through the shower curtain with a yelp. "You bitch!" She wailed, and Amelia was out the door into shrieks of laughter. She went over to her things in a corner of the room, then without anyone noticing slipped the dirty red knickers into a clear ziplock bag before popping that into her own. She paused, checked her hair with a quick brush of a hand, the clean one, the one that hadn't been sullied by those offending, fetid knickers and turned to face the chatter of the room with the other girls.

Tamara's shower was practically heaven. Hot water sprayed over her large breasts, splashing her nipples as she enjoyed the solitude and peace of the cubicle. Oh this was good! Her head pulsed a little under the heat.

She couldn't resist touching herself in the shower usually but today she just wanted to enjoy the comforting, clean warm feeling of getting rinsed, getting washed.

She cleansed herself, knowing she'd had another man's cock last night up inside her, completely naked, he'd shot his load in her which she loved......but now was not the time to dwell on such thoughts.

After a good five minutes of warm, wet alcohol fuzzy bliss she switched off the shower and stood on the mat, enjoying the steamy warmth while drying herself down with a fluffy towel.

The guilt that was stirred before lay somewhere out there, she was yet to lay claim to that unwanted baggage.

Later that morning the hen party, with baggy heads and clean threads sloped back out of town. Tamara was a little quiet going home, her thoughts had indeed shifted to her fiancee, to the wedding and I suppose to what she had done.