Things Happen at Weddings Ch. 03

"Would you care to dance?"

Julia Tolliver stood in front of her ex-husband Ryan, looking down at him, suppressing a smirk as his face registered a mix of uncertain emotions, not all of which she could identify. It was awkward for her too. That's why she decided to make the first move, to set him back on his heels. And damn it, after all these years, he was still cute when he was at a loss for words.

"It's okay, you can say no," she sighed after a moment.

"No, no," Ryan protested, stumbling up from his seat. "I'm sorry, I just..."

The smile returned to her face. "It's our daughter's wedding, is all."

"Yes, of course," he agreed. "Our daughter. Our greatest achievement."

She almost blushed. She found herself stepping to the side so he could move past her and appear to be leading her onto the dance floor.

Settling into his arms again felt surprisingly natural. She sighed. The divorce had been her idea, she acknowledged. And like with everything else, he had resisted, delayed, but ultimately conceded to the inevitable. The whole process, at the time, just reinforced to her that it was his passive-aggressive nature that had motivated her to move on. And she didn't want to allow herself to have regrets.

Mike, her newish boyfriend who had disappeared into the bar to watch golf, wasn't passive-aggressive. He was just aggressive, selfish even. And she found that attractive at first. Most of the time.

She noticed that Ryan was a holding himself a bit stiffly, and seemed to be extremely conscious about keeping distance between their bodies.

"So you're here alone this weekend," she commented.

"I'm here with my entire family," he responded.

"You know what I mean. Maddie tells me you haven't been seeing anyone recently."

"Maddie's a little too concerned with my social life," Ryan replied, smiling slightly. "I'm not seeing anyone who I wanted to subject to eight hours with strangers."

"So you *are* seeing someone," Julia mused. "But not someone you could bring to your daughter's wedding. Why, Ryan, are you having an affair with a married woman?"

"No!" he snapped, his body stiffening a bit.

"No, I suppose not. You're far too decent for that. Hmmm. You've not gone gay on us, have you?"

Ryan scowled. Then his face took on an odd expression, a look of... resoluteness?

"Actually," he said, dryly, "If you must know, I'm seeing a woman. She's just... otherwise occupied today."

"I see," Julia said. "Good for you. But still... apparently a woman that you haven't mentioned to your daughter?"

He stopped dancing, but continued to stand with one hand on her waist, the other clasping her hand. He appeared to be making a decision.

"The fact is, I'm involved with a dominatrix."

Julia took a second to process that, then burst out laughing. He began to move again, and she followed, oddly... *impressed* with his admission. Well, she admitted to herself, he's certainly turned the tables on me. Now I'm the one who's set back on my heels.

"Hmmm," she finally said. "You know... I can see that."

He appeared relieved, and maybe somewhat proud of himself.

"So, she didn't have anything but black leather to wear to a wedding?"

"Oh, don't be trite," he responded. He appeared to start to explain, but then remained silent.

Julia couldn't help but be intrigued. Well, well. She remembered how often she had thought of him as passive-aggressive. So, he was exploring just being passive. She approved of the idea. Impulsively, she leaned into him, and was immediately aware of something hard pressing into her belly... but it wasn't an erect penis.

He discretely pulled back away from her, but the jig was up. She knew what a chastity device was. She was amused. "Well, Ryan, I think it suits you."

He didn't respond, so she continued to toy with him. "So what would your domme think, if she knew you were dancing with your ex-wife?"

"Actually," he replied dryly, "She suggested it."

The song came to a conclusion. He stepped back from her, and she couldn't tell whether he was embarrassed, or defiant. Either way...

"Thank you, Ryan," she said. "It was nice catching up with you."

"You too, Julia," he responded. Definitely leaning toward defiant, she decided. She leaned toward him and placed a chaste kiss on his cheek, and patted his chest with her hand. Then they turned away from each other, and she surveyed the room. She wondered if anyone had observed them. Not that it mattered. Everyone who knew them knew the divorce had been drama-free. Nothing that unusual about the father and the mother of the bride sharing an innocent dance.

Nevertheless, the wheels were turning in her head. She strolled through the reception hall, to the entrance of the adjoining lounge. Her boyfriend was sitting at the bar, eyes fixed on the TV screen.

"Hey, you," she said, slipping in beside him.

"Hey," he replied. "What have you been up to?"

I've been at my daughter's goddamn wedding reception, she thought briefly, but let it pass. "Just catching up with old friends."

"Good, good."

"In fact, I was thinking... I may stay another day. Have lunch and go shopping with the girls. That okay with you?"

He looked at her and shrugged. He was in a good mood. And he was certainly looking forward to this reception being over so he could get her back to the room and get her out of that pretty dress and underneath him. But, he also figured he wouldn't mind getting home in time to see the final round tomorrow.

"Yeah, that's fine," he agreed.

"Good," she said, kissing him on the cheek. "I'm going to go mingle some more. See you in a bit?"

"Yep," he agreed, turning back to the TV.

Julia smiled as she headed back to the reception hall. She had no plans for Sunday. But she had a couple of ideas.

***

"Thank you for helping me with this," Mrs. Maddie Tolliver McRae said, as her best friend Alex finally, blissfully, loosened the drawstrings on her bridal corset.

"Of course," Alex replied. "Although, you know, I thought maybe Graham would want to consummate the marriage in it."

"Well, then, HE can wear the damn thing."

They both laughed. "It's beautiful though. It's perfect."

"I know," Maddie acknowledged. "It just got so uncomfortable. Kind of a shame."

"That's okay," Alex said. "You can save sex in your bridal gown for your anniversary. Or, you know, like, some random Thursday."

Maddie laughed again. "Yeah, I know, except, I can't get into it by myself. I'll need you on standby. 'Hi, Alex? Can you come over and help me get ready for kinky role-playing sex with my husband?'"

"Any time," Alex winked. She was still in her bridesmaid dress, which appeared much more comfortable to Maddie than her own bridal gown. At least Alex had let her hair out of its elegant coif.

The bridal gown was off now, and Alex was carefully arranging it on a hanger. Maddie, still in her loosened corset, sat down at the dressing table and unsnapped the garter stays from her silk stockings. This had been a great idea. Her new husband was back at the reception hotel, having one more round with his tribe. She didn't need to be carried across a threshold. She could be showered, perfumed, and dressed in her white lace dressing gown when he arrived, rather than scrambling to get out of this contraption while he drummed his fingers on the other side of the bathroom door.

"So, where did you disappear to earlier this evening?" Maddie slyly inquired.

"Oh... Colin and I... went for a walk."

"Uh huh," Maddie smirked. "Did this walk end up in your room?"

"No," Alex replied with mock indignation. Then, "His."

Well, that explains why your hair is down, Maddie smiled ruefully. She had always enjoyed herself vicariously through her friend's promiscuity. It was the reason, of course, that she had decided tonight to give her own dad a nudge in Alex' direction. He had apparently stopped dating several months ago, for whatever reason. She knew that Alex had always found him attractive, and now that she was a full-fledged independent adult and he was becoming a silver fox, the ick factor had disappeared. Her dad deserved the ego boost of a roll in the hay, or two or ten, with a hot younger woman. And Alex was nothing if not hot.

So now she felt herself feeling irrationally jealous on her dad's behalf. Well, it was silly to think anything was going to happen between them tonight. Alex was going to Alex. And Colin, despite his youth, was one tall drink of water.

"So, how was he?"

"Good," Alex replied, matter-of-factly. "Vigorous. Surprisingly skilled. And, um, let's just say that if big dicks are a family trait, you've done quite well for yourself."

Maddie laughed, but responded with just a simple, "Hmmm." Actually, her husband was quite adequately endowed; she had no complaints. But she realized that the idea that his cute, athletic kid brother was more well-hung than him gave her a little *frisson.*

***

There was a knock at my door. Before I could say, "It's open," Alex had turned the knob and slipped in, closing it quietly behind her.

She stood there, smiling wryly, her dark hair down now around her shoulders, but otherwise still looking slinky in her heels and hose and bias-cut rose bridesmaid's dress. The dress she had been wearing this evening while she danced with me, then while I watched her dance with other men; watched them run their hands over her hips and ass; watched her disappear with one of them for an hour.

"Party all done with?" I asked.

"The one in the reception hall is," she replied. "Mine's not. Are you still wearing the cage?"

"Yes," I said, a bit taken aback by her abruptness.

"Good boy," she stated. As usual, that made me twitch. I felt myself trying to grow in my cage.

"I'd like to see it," she continued, easing herself down into one of the upholstered side chairs in the room, and crossing her legs.

As always, I complied. I had already taken off my tux and showered, and changed into a clean dress shirt and dockers. I quickly removed them while Alex opened her little clutch purse and applied fresh lipstick.

I partly folded my clothes and placed them on the dresser, then turned to face her, naked except for the clear plastic chastity device that was feeling ever tighter around the root of my stifled erection. She gestured for me to come closer to her, and when I did, she leaned forward and placed a delicate little kiss on the hard plastic shell of the cage. I felt nothing, except the misery of the increasing constraint.

She looked up at me and grinned, her eyes sparkling, then leaned forward again and extended her tongue. I whimpered. The tip of my glans was trying to extrude itself through the little opening at the end of the cage; I could feel her hot breath as she carefully licked around it without touching it. Then she opened her lips and took the whole plastic knob into her mouth, briefly making a seal, gently humming, then moving away again, having left iridescent coral lipstick marks behind as a poignant reminder that I had been in her mouth, but felt nothing. Again. I groaned.

She leaned back in the chair, smiling her trademark smile. "Can you take my shoes off and rub my feet for me, Ryan? I've been on my feet all night."

Of course. "On your feet," I repeated, tormenting myself as I dropped to my knees and removed one ivory satin pump.

She picked up on that. "Yes. On my feet. On my back. On my knees..."

When I had removed the second shoe, she planted her stockinged feet on either side of my knees and reached forward to take my head between her hands. She drew my head toward her, till my forehead was nestled between her breasts and my nose and mouth were buried in the silky fabric that stretched tautly across her soft belly.

"Can you smell him?" she whispered, stroking the back of my head.

"Mmm," I responded. I didn't actually smell *him* per se, but I could smell the mixture of her faded perfume and human sweat and imagine clearly enough what she was telling me. I pictured her lovely dress, bunched up and pressed between her and the heaving torso of tonight's lover, just as I had essentially asked her to do for me at the end of our last dance earlier.

I inhaled deeply and then pulled back enough to look up at her. "Was it Colin?" I had to confirm.

She nodded. "Yes. Your new son in law's little brother."

I quivered and nodded. The jealousy almost hurt, but I always wanted to know. I wanted her to have loved it. "How was he?"

"He was really, really good," she purred, as I burrowed my head deeper and inhaled deeply from the fragrant place where her belly met her thighs. "He was... *vigorous.* And, um.."

Her pause caused me to look up. She locked eyes with me, held her fingertips seven or eight inches apart, and mouth the word, "Big." I groaned again, making her smile before she went on, "He knew what he was doing."

I laid my head back on her lap, feeling my heart pounding in my chest. Part of me hated this kind of teasing, but I couldn't get enough of it.

"And he came in me. Twice. In less than an hour."

I twitched, but her clarification just made my envy and insecurity worse. "Well, he *fucked* me twice in less than an hour. He *came* in me twice in about twenty minutes."

"So, Mister," she said softly after another moment. "You know what I want next. I want you to taste him."

Yes, of course. My head swam with turbulent emotions. It wasn't like this was the first time we had had this dance, but it still overwhelmed me every time with humiliation, nausea, and lust.

I placed my hands on her ankles and slowly moved up over her calves, around behind her knees, then around again and up over the tops of her silk stockings, which were damp. She gently pulled the hem of her dress up for me, so I could see the bare flesh of her inner thighs. They were sticky and slightly shiny, from what I knew was the combined fluids from her sexual tryst with a young man who had been a stranger just the night before.

Finally I saw that she was now wearing a pair of cream-colored satin panties, pulled on over the straps of her matching garter belt. I instantly knew why, but couldn't resist hearing it from her lips. "When did you put panties on?"

"Right after," she explained. "I had them in my purse the whole time. I couldn't have him running down my legs the rest of the evening. At least, not in *this* dress."

I felt myself clinch to hear her, for the second time, refer to the semen he had left in her not as "his cum," not as some inanimate substance, but as *him.* It felt personal, intimate, and made the young man somehow *present.*

"C'mon, take them off of me." And she planted her feet and lifted her bottom off the seat so I could grasp them at her hips and pull them down.

They were more than damp. They were sodden at the gusset. I could see a thick little pool of opaque gelatin quivering there as I drew them down her legs and over her pointed toes. The thought of what it was and the knowledge of what she wanted me to do with it made my stomach churn, but the idea that *she wanted me to do it* made my cock try to burst through its cage.

I looked up at her and watched her watching me, smiling her bemused smile. I raised her panties to my lips and extended my tongue, touching the congealed puddle. It clung to the fabric, so I placed my lips around it and drew it in with a slurping sound that made her giggle. Her laugh excited me, as did my own wave of humiliation, offsetting the unpleasant taste and sensation as the glob of semen reached the "sour" and "bitter" receptors at the back of my tongue. It felt like an oyster going down.

"Good boy," she whispered. Then she drew my head down, and I eagerly extended my tongue into her, where her own salty and buttery fluids masked the pungent remaining flavor of the young man's semen. I licked up one labia and down the other, wiggling to get deeper, then flicked up over her sensitive clit.

She twitched, and told me, "Not yet." So I returned to gently lapping at her lips, and reached up to place a hand beneath her bottom, palm up, and extend my middle finger into her slick wetness. She didn't object to that. She clenched it with her muscles. Contrary to what I always read in porn, she didn't feel loose at all. If anything, she was swollen and extra tight.

"Feel that?" she asked. I hummed an affirmative response.

"If you can feel me do that with your finger, imagine what it felt like to his cock."

I groaned, partly from the surge of tightness in my cage. "Of course, *imagine* is all you can do, isn't it... Mr. Tolliver?"

I heaved a sigh, causing her to giggle again. I hated and craved her taunting, and she knew it.

Licking around my finger, I could sense more of the thicker, more bitter fluid flowing out of her, and gagged a bit. She understood. "He put a lot in me, really deep," she teased. "He'll be dripping out of me all night.

"Good thing I work on my kegels. I've been clenching for the last two hours, keeping him inside of me. For you."

I withdrew my finger and flattened my lips against her mound, driving deeper with my tongue. She kept going. "I had to go back to the reception, of course. To dance with other men."

Jesus. This was driving me crazy. I realized that I needed to give her an orgasm to shut her up. So I moved up to her clitoris and lapped at it, then made little circles around it and the adjacent silver barbell from her piercing. She gasped and, indeed, stopped talking. She grabbed by head and pulled me into her, and I pulled both little hard nubs -- the silver one, and the fleshy one -- into my lips and sucked.

After she came, I got off my tiring knees and settled onto one thigh on the floor between her legs, looking up at her, probably a bit self-satisfied. She twisted her hand in my hair and said, "More." That caused my cock to ache more than my knees. But I slipped two fingers of my right hand up into her, hooking her behind her pelvic bone, and drawing her to me. Sure enough, her pulsing had released another flood of semen from the reservoir that the young man had left up inside her.

Later, as she caught her breath, she asked me if I had anything to drink. Fortunately I had filled the ice bucket before she arrived. I had a bottle of Scotch, but she just wanted water. I got up stiffly and poured us each a glass while she pulled herself up out of the chair, and pushed her silky dress down off her shoulders, then over her hips, and stepped out of it.

There she stood, wearing just her ivory heels, her garter belt, and a pair of badly laddered nude silk stockings. Her hair was tossled, and I could see a couple of faint blue bruises on her delicious teardrop breasts. Assuming how they got there, I felt my cage grip me tighter yet again. Christ, she had a body that was built for sex. And she looked like she had just fulfilled her destiny. She had certainly conquered me.

She got onto the bed and patted the duvet to invite me to recline beside her. She put her hand behind my head and gave me a soft but lingering kiss, parting her lips slightly, teasing me with her tongue. I closed my eyes and savored the sensation, the taste of her lipstick, of her tanginess on my dry tongue, and of course of Colin's bitter residue.

We both settled back against the headboard, her satiated, me hopelessly and futilely aroused as always. "So," she commented, "Did you go down on your ex this evening?"

I snorted. "Hardly. Why are you pushing that?"

"Because I love fucking with your head," she laughed.

I shook my fucked-with head. "I did dance with her, though."

"Good," she said. She reached down and cupped my caged package, tenderly lifting my swollen and vulnerable balls. "Did she discover your little secret?"

I sighed. "I'm afraid so."

"Well, she's thinking about it, then," Alex assured me. "Trust me."