Wedding Belles

What made them one people? Toffy wanted to know.

"Five clan Lawokla women, one Lulakiksa from centuries ago. Married to one half-breed man, he used those alliances to build a trading empire. And to get BIA money. He had thirty children, spread over eight years. Every generation since, like a marching army, it grows in steps, synchronized from that age. Why so many are the same age now! Diminished by the Trail, as so many families were. Now scattered, the Kushapokla, the Divided People.

"Every one here can trace their line back to one of those strong women, through one of those thirty. Only recently researched, and the family reformed. My Papa helped with that!

"I am fiercely proud of them, of all of us, never make light of our origins and you will do fine. It's what takes a mob of strangers and makes them a family."

"A strong nation! To contain such peoples." Toffy was learning a lot today. Where he came from, a people meant one line, pure to ancient times.

"Not a nation, but for recently! 1984! A century and a half of promised self-rule, achieved finally through generations of struggle. Strong now; we will never let that be taken from us."

Toffy took his heritage for granted, a line unbroken since Gorm the Old, a thousand years the day his father had been born. To hear of a fractured line wrested from ashes by a proud people, that made him think.

"They return here, today, for you?" He smiled at that; he was proud of Bitty, truly loved her. Not after her money, he cared little or nothing for that, the arrogance of his ancient line made any talk of money crass. His strong powerful woman, he'd met her, seen her and never looked away, in her thrall. The way of Viking Earls when they choose their Queen.

Toffy held her to him, beside her, the two of them together, neither in front of the other.

"Oh, sure they came for me, and for Mama. And some came for catching up, making connections. Many are drawn back to the family stomping grounds, to breath the fresh air again, to feel the sun on their faces. That is the Choctaw in them, I suspect."

Some came for business, the Nevada clan are all business, in suits and gold chains, flash bolo ties and sparkling stone jewelry, having made a fortune in mining. Investing in family, turning over the soil they called it. Whatever their reasons, they found the family to be useful and so were content to claim membership and attended all family events in force.

"Are all of your bridesmaids, family?" Often it was friends, he had come to understand.

"All family! You've seen Aisling, Ash we call her. Then there's Opal, the brunette, from Nevada? Looking like a million bucks? She should; she's probably wearing that much in gemstones. She offered me this for today! Something borrowed, and something blue."

She showed it to Toffy, an opal ring pulled from Opal's own hand, she'd shown Bitty the tiny sun at its heart, sparkling like a little star. Ridiculously large, it covered three fingers.

"Is Opal your age?" She looked much younger.

"Oh no. I used to babysit Opal! When her family visited, we'd play games and wade in the creek. We had such fun! Staged mock weddings, she was always my bridesmaid. So it makes sense. You see?"

He did, sort of.

"Then Diva, we are the same age, grew up together, buddies at every family event. She always said she'd stand at my wedding. Wanted to walk me down the aisle! But I said no, only Papa could do that, today I'll walk alone."

And she got a little teary at that so Toffy held her, he knew what it was like to lose your father young. Today was an emotional day, this was all right, a good bride wept lots of tears today.

When she was ready again, "Will there be a fourth?" because there were four groomsmen. The three young men and Trent, his Best Man, Bitty's third cousin. Trent had met Toffy early in their courtship, became buddies immediately. Trent taught Toffy the 'western ways', had appealed to the romantic in Toffy. Had read many wild west stories as a kid!

Trent was a gentleman but a bit of a player. He never promised the ladies anything but was always ready to help, always showing interest. He'd pay for dinner, take them to a show as long as it had Garth Brooks or somebody almost as good. Was a writer for a while, his granduncle was Ernie Pyle, he'd gotten the genes that way. Writes travelogues now, had a series of modern-Western stories about a womanizing drifter. Autobiographical, the whole family knew it.

Trent had hung out on the family acreage as a kid, he and Bitty had played around a bit in college. All in the past now; just fast childhood friends.

"That's just three!" Toffy proved he could count.

"Truly! My maid of honor! My best friend, when I was almost a woman and Truly just arrived off the reservation, on her motorcycle, she saved me."

Toffy nodded, this story he knew, Bitty talked of her often. Born in Boggy Depot, miserably poor, made her own way, never borrowed a cent from family, proud. Independent, but visits more often than accident, really just to prove that she belonged somewhere, know that there are people that have her back.

And when Papa died, struck down at his desk, found by Bitty lifeless and only Truly could make her look away, took her outside to sit for hours on the hill while the people came and took his husk away. Prayed old Choctaw prayers with her, sang with her until sunrise, when the great spirit returned and Papa was up there, safely away and his soul settled. Then she'd finally cried and Truly had held her.

Mama approached. "There you are! The bridesmaids are getting ready! Remember the time!"

Toffy let Bitty go, took both her hands, looked her in the eye. "I will see you soon my love! But this time as mand og kone!" and let her go, to put on the required regalia.

"Mama! Plenty of time! I've been watching the clock!" which she certainly hadn't, she'd be enjoying herself without a care in the world for the time.

"Besides, Truly isn't here yet!"

Mama looked worried. "Will she have time to dress?"

"Truly won't need to get changed, you know that!" Truly would certainly not conform to any dress code, you took her as you found her. In jeans and leather, probably.

"Should you consider someone to substitute today, perhaps one of the Velasquez granddaughters?" Mama was fretting.

"Mom. Truly is on Indian time. We'll wait for her; everybody will understand. She'll make a grand entrance, maybe right as we're lining up, it will all work out, you'll see."

"One of your little cousins would adore being her stand-in?" Momma wouldn't let it alone.

But Bitty stood her ground. "I'm not getting married if Truly isn't standing beside me, just forget about that. We can call it all off if necessary."

That hit home; Mama understood this special relationship, more than anyone. She relaxed.

"Of course, that's right, when Truly arrives then we can begin. I'm acting like some ohoyo im anukfila iksho, a foolish woman, where are my wits. Our people will wait; we are good at waiting.

"I love you, you know that?"

Bitty softened, took Mama's hand like her sister, walking toward the house.

"Every day of my life Momma. I've never doubted."

Ash was not getting ready. She was nervous, had drank and nibbled to quell her nerves, the first time at a wedding where she had a named part and it rattled her.

What if she stumbled? Laughed at the wrong moment? Said something stupid? And absolutely everyone in the family, everyone who meant anything at all to her, watching! It would give anyone cause for nervousness.

But then again, these were exactly the people who knew her, who would laugh with her and help her up if she fell off of those ridiculous shoes, those heels had no place in a grassy field much less a wedding party!

Still. She needed to settle her nerves. Usually, at the weddings she'd been to before, she just found some young blood and screwed him. Had him pound one out in her behind a tent, distract her and remind her what was important and what merely window dressing. Ground her. Usually a groomsman.

Well, why not? There were two groomsmen that fit the bill, weren't attached and of age. Trent and, what's his name? The eighteen-year-old, she'd flirted at the dinner. They'd walk together, practiced at the rehearsal, paired for the ceremony so he owed her something. And Trent was nowhere to be seen.

Besides, virgins were lots more fun. So eager! So easy to please. And so much cum, they'd only ever masturbated, they didn't know what capacity they truly had, buried to the root in a warm body and provoked beyond endurance.

"Hey! You!" and she collared him, he was chatting up some other cousin, one of the Velasquez girls, too young for him anyway. Took him by the hand and pulled him away, he called something to the girl and followed meekly.

"Ash! We've got time! I only have to put on that monkey suit, change shoes."

He was totally unsuspecting; this was going to be good.

"You gotta do something for me first."

He grinned, expecting some wedding prank, perhaps decorating the car or putting rocks in the hubcaps. All in, at the perfect age for such nonsense. Ash took him behind the catering tents, heading for the parking lot but she couldn't wait, ducked into the dessert tent, nobody going to come in here for quite a while.

The wedding cake stood in regal splendor, a concession to wedding convention, a tall thing of earth tones and brilliant sugar stones like gems. Then a score of ordinary cakes around, it took many to please an army.

And boxes of flatware, dishes, napkins and trash bins. Cleaning supplies, somebody always dropped cake in their lap or spilled wine down their shirt, this caterer knew their stuff, had done all this before.

He was confused; surely, they weren't going to mess with the wedding cake?

"I need you to get me grounded. Here's how it's gonna work. You'll drop your pants; I'll strip off my panties. I'll suck you hard, then I need you to stick that thing into me!"

He was confused, then as it dawned on him, he was going to have sex! With the prettiest lass at the wedding, the legendary Ash! No hesitation now, his pants were off in an instant, his shirt buttons flying as Ash stripped her panties, stuffed them into his shirt pocket. Knelt on his pants, no grass stains to give her away later, she found him already rising. The energetic young! She smiled; this would work fine.

A few licks, some sucking and he was trembling, already nearing orgasm.

"Nuh uh! You have to do that inside me!" She stood, bent over a trash can and stuck out her hips. Her wet slot was clearly visible, framed by her fiery untrimmed bush, her thighs with a generous gap.

"Grab me by the hips and stick that inside! No! The other hole! Yes, now you've uuuuuuhh!" and he was in.

"Gotta bang me good!" and already he was cumming, she felt the warm pulsing, the sudden slippery dick, his cum lubricating her insides.

No matter: he was young, he would last longer the second time. He went to pull out but she reached back, grabbed his hip.

"Do it again! Pound me hard! You won't break it!" and he was more than willing, still staggered by how awesome Ash's pussy was, eyes rolling, feeling how cumming inside was unlike any cumming he'd done before, more than he'd even suspected. And not knowing any better, he stayed hard and continued stroking inside her.

"Uh! Uh! Yeah! Fuck that cunt! You stiff randy buachaill! Make me feel it!" and he mistook 'buachaill' for 'fucker' so that worked anyway, he increased his efforts, gripping her hips so hard he would leave a mark, even a bruise. Pulling her body onto his cock as he thrust! and bucked inside her, smacking hips to butt so it sounded like cracking gum.

Their flesh sounds percussed like some small engine, like some generator running nearby, fully fueled up and tuned to perfection, a reciprocating piston of carnal power. She was sputtering from her cunt now, his first cum jetting out by the pneumatic force of his cock, spattering her calves and his thighs, making the sound wetter and stinging some.

"Shit! Yeah! Don't stop! Just a little more!" and Aisling was close, her legs quivering, one knee quirking, she'd have fallen but for his hands holding her hips in the air, not done with her, getting his second wind now.

"Fucker! I'm cumming! Oh! Jesus! Aaaahhh!" and she came, leaning on the trashcan lid and feet in the air, he was holding her up entirely by her hips, she was making too much noise, someone would surely hear but no matter, she'd gotten what she needed, a good orgasm to calm her heart and slow her breathing. If he would only cum now, cum again and let her recover!

"Oh! Oh! Ash! I'm... I'm... Shit!" and he came again, more this time, his balls were getting the hang of cock-fucking a warm willing woman and did a complete jizz-purge into her, slowly bucking into her, sliding her cunt on his cock like a sex toy, using her to milk himself, press and hold! and stroke and press! again, jetting his semen on each glorious plunge until he was just pulsing, nothing left to emit, muscles getting sore from convulsing on empty but he didn't care.

"Oh. Oh. Ok. You've done it, thanks, that was good. Really good! You're gonna make some young Cailín very happy! You can let me down now."

And the engine noise didn't stop, it got louder and now that she could attend properly, it was a motorcycle.

"Gotta go! Thanks hun!" and she got her feet under her, he popped out of her flushed pussy, red cunt like her bush now, and he was still stiff and drippy. Pecked him on the cheek, grabbed her panties from his shirt pocket, mopped up her calves and cunt and stuffed them sopping back into his shirt. Flipped her skirt down, fled the tent, late for getting dressed and now Truly was here it would all go off on time.

Leaving her young what's-his-name panting and half-naked, eyes glazed and smiling, a little befuddled by the whole deal, everything suddenly still in the tent, it could have been a dream! But now sure he wanted a girlfriend, soon, this was too good to pass up, to waste another moment as hattak ilap bano, a lonely male. He needed this regular, that was a certainty. Maybe that Velasquez girl, Alabama? She was nice, seemed willing. Yeah, she would be great. Gotta ask her to dance after.

"A whole hour to go! A new Truly record!" and Bitty went to the window in her underwear, pulled the drapes aside and peered out, looking down the drive. Yes! Truly was unmistakable, in her leathers, on her Indian, just cruising into the parking lot now, rumbling engine throaty and slow.

"Bitty!" and Mama pulled the drapes closed, concealing her half-naked daughter but not before several young men hanging by the bandstand saw, amazed.

"Ask her to come up! I have to see her!" and Mama smiled and did that, calm now, their timetable could proceed. Going to the door and dispatching a niece to tell Truly where Bitty was.

It took a quarter hour since Truly was quite a spectacle, not known to everyone but enough to delay her progress across the quarter-mile, hugs and handshakes and always she made her apologies, had to check in with the bride!

And she was there.

"Truly!" and she didn't cry Bitty! but she was moved, she came into the hug without hesitation, not speaking for now. Mama let them be for a good long moment, knowing this was important, why they came together at all! It'd been too long for these two.

Finally, "Ok. Let me get that petticoat fitted" and Truly broke the hug, stood back and watched as Mama did this wedding-day duty. Normally a Maid of Honor job but not Truly's thing, fussing about frippery, that was ok, Mama had it covered.

"I came straight in from Elk City on 40, some construction or I would have been here this morning. Gas money ran out, no problem, I knew a guy in Amarillo for a fill-up."

Just talking, filling the air while Bitty turned and tugged and cooperated. And Bitty thought, she probably blew him for the gas, Truly cared shit what anybody else thought, she did what she had to do. The hard facts of life growing up for her.

And she liked giving blowjobs.

Turned so she was facing Truly, looked at her thoroughly. Dusty from the road, a little tired, a little older. The Choctaw runs rampant in her, the strong features, the jet-black hair! Those arms! Those hips! Wearing a leather jacket, the Choctaw Sun symbol tooled and dyed into it, faded but still recognizable.

Under that, a beaded bustier! Truly noticed her looking.

"Not gonna wear any chiffon!" and she poked at her bustier, proud of it. Bought especially for today, her fanciest article ever, normally wore just a faded blue work shirt. Got it on the road, she'd changed in the aisle between the leatherwork and the cases of beads, a lucky find. Why she didn't have gas money.

"Oh Truly! I knew you wouldn't, you just be you. I'm so glad you're here, I love you cousin!"

"Nakfish! Little sister! I had to come, I gotta dance at your wedding." And she had promised when last they parted, she'd return for this.

"Oh Truly! Maybe I'll dance at yours one day!" and that wasn't going to happen, Truly wasn't the marrying kind.

But Truly went in for the hug again, kissed Bitty this time, making it good, making Bitty blush, leaving her breathless.

"This will have to be enough. No man can hold me down."

And Mama took her moment to say I love you ushi tek, my daughter and got a hug and kiss her on the cheek. Welcome!

"Go find Tófi! Say Hi! He's somewhere. Maybe already dressed! Ask anybody. You can't miss him!"

And back to the buttons and lace, and Truly was dismissed for the moment.

Bitty always had a thing for Truly. Everything Bitty felt she wasn't! If she bent that way, she'd have dated her. Truly wanted who she wanted, didn't lean either way so it could have worked. Wild, exciting, strong, confident. Went through lovers like playing cards, a Knave this month, a King the next, sometimes a Joker. Took chances, when you had nothing to lose, it wasn't really a gamble? Just how she lived her life.

Tófi was ready, an expert at formal wear, he'd spent half his young life in it at one event or another. Full Danish suiting, he got to flaunt his heritage too, it was only fair. Blue suitcoat with hardly any collar, too many big brass buttons down the front! Red handkerchief in the pocket. White starched shirt underneath it all, just the right amount of cuff showing. And those pants! A busy stripey pattern running down, too many stripes but subtle too, looking like it was meant to be stylish and succeeding.

Still, more like a lion in a suit than the last scion of a noble line. The mane was part of that, plus the muscles that couldn't be disguised.

Truly found him under a pavilion with Trent, that was the giveaway. Glasses in their hands, supposed to be soda water but amber, something Trent came up with for sure. She looked him up and down, missing nothing. She stood relaxed, erect, arms at her sides, she looked like she could break into a run, drop to the ground, leap on a horse, grapple at a moment's notice, whatever the situation required.

"You gotta be the groom? Truffle?"

"Tófi! And you have to be Truly?" He looked at her just as frankly, seeing everything. Her face, all flat surfaces, like it was chiseled out of the stone mountains, brutal almost. The bustier, the leather pants. The jacket, he liked that, wheels turning - where could he get one? Her boots, dusty biker boots, she hadn't changed even them.

They smiled at the same time; they were gonna like each other.

"Hey Trent! Bitty said something about a garter? What's that? Some kind of snake?"

Trent got a surprised look, remembering something, made his apologies and hared off to the parking lot.

So they were alone. As alone as two people could be, on a broad lawn with most of a thousand people.