Maid of Honorbyromane©
written by romane and translated by Solitary Dreamer.
One fine day, I received a wedding announcement from my best friend, Chantal. I fell on my ass when I learned of her nuptials. We first met on the faculty board. Since we both got along rather well, we decided to rent an apartment together after only two months. The two of us lived well together. It was with her that I first became familiar with my Sapphic desires. We shared everything: The apartment, our beds, our boyfriends. She had a thirst for knowledge, and, in matters of sex, she was never satisfied. She was a true slut in these matters.
I remember a time when she lay between the rails of the railroad tracks one night, in my presence. A train finally passed over her. Afterwards, she walked toward me, completely serene, while I, stupefied, thought that she was a reckless madwoman. She smiled and said:
"We will now be able to say that even a train has passed over me!"
I glowed with laughter, as did she. I took her in my arms, and made love to her right next to the railroad tracks. The locomotives passed by without them bothering us. From time to time, one of the conductors would let loose the blaring siren of his train whistle.
We parted ways after the end of our time with the faculty, but always kept in touch. It was for that reason that I was surprised by the wedding announcement, especially given the fact that she had never touched upon it in any of her communications. Who was the lucky man who could make an honest woman out of my friend?
She called to tell me that she wanted to come and spend her last days a single woman in my company. I accepted with joy. Our reunion was all that I had hoped that it would be. Husband-to-be or not, we made love until late in the night. She was just as attractive as before. We strolled through the streets of Paris during the day, searching for the places of our youth, the corners where we had loved. Then, in the evening, we fucked like madwomen. One day, we passed in front of a massage parlor.
"A little massage, how does that sound to you?"
"It's just for men."
"But no, it's for women, too."
I followed her, despite my trepidation, into the establishment.
"I'm into everything," she said.
Obviously, this was not her first time at a massage parlor. She returned, and led me through the locker rooms.
"I chose a little pearl for us. You are going to see."
She led me, in a bathrobe, into a room where a massage table was set up. She tapped on the table without looking at me.
"Let's go, you're first!"
I took off my bathrobe, and climbed onto the table, clothed only in my underwear. She also took off her bathrobe, and likewise remained in her underwear.
"Come now, we are going to take these off right away," she said, snatching my panties.
I did not have any time to react before my panties were on the floor. My bra soon joined them. She then slid her hands across my naked body.
"He will arrive in a few minutes," she said, raising my legs onto the table.
She settled down between my thighs, and began to gather the nectar from my flower. I closed my eyes, and gave into her delightful caresses. My sex became wet from her delicate attention. I forgot that the masseur would soon arrive. I moaned.
"Oh, excuse me!," said the man, opening the door.
I opened my eyes, overcome with panic. Chantal raised her head, replacing her mouth with her hand, and offered a smile, wet with my juices, to the man who had just entered.
"It's no problem, come in." She rubbed me gently. "I am helping my friend wait. Don't stand over there. Come here!"
I heard the door close. I moaned in spite of myself. I finally saw the leading man that she had chosen. He looked at me, and smiled in turn.
"Come on, don't stand there with your arms dangling. Can't you see that her breasts are in need of your caresses?"
She returned to my pistil. He took off his T-shirt. I moaned again. He then kissed me delicately, and went to suck on my breasts. I felt great, relaxed. Chantal left the warmth of my thighs. The sound of unzipping let me realize that she was going to attend to him. I looked at her take out the powerful sex of the man, and swallow it. To think that she was to be married in a few days! She lavished him with superb fellatio. He continued to pay attention to me in spite of everything, even gathering a few of the juices of my wet and damp pussy with his tongue.
"I am preparing him for you, my dear," she said in the middle of deep-throating his cock twice.
She then gave his cock to me to suck. I stroked it. We both sucked it one after the other. We could feel that he was ready to explode.
"Go on, my dears, make love for me," she said.
He had me get down from the table and turn around, then penetrated me from behind without any warning. Chantal climbed on the table, so that we could kiss while the masseur fucked me vigorously. We both took turns stroking her. The masseur was a good lay who could go the distance. I came many times without him needing to come once, despite all of his wonderful work. A quick swipe of the tongue on the part of my friend and me, in order to help the masseur regain his strength, and, voila, he then began to fuck Chantal. He fucked her as long as he had fucked me. I masturbated, all the while kissing Chantal, who moaned with all of her being. The masseur slid a finger into my ass, and fingered me that way. They changed positions. He spread out on the table, and Chantal impaled herself on him. I squatted above the masseur's face, in order that he could suck my pussy. Chantal had her orgasm. He still had not cum, so I took Chantal's place. It was a superb fuck! I leaned into him before he tossed me onto the table, taking me savagely. Chantal attacked my clitoris. I had a second orgasm. At the moment when I was going to cum, she took his cock from my vaginal flesh and swallowed his tool, glistening with my juices. He ejaculated in her mouth, and she swallowed his semen without flinching.
"Thanks!," said Chantal, her face covered with sperm. "You can leave us now."
The man put on his clothes and left.
"Well, did you like that?"
"And how. I am going to remember this address if only for him. He is very good."
We went to take a shower.
"You don't want him to escort you?"
"No, I can come alone."
Chantal returned to her house in order to finalize preparations for her wedding. I often played with myself, thinking of the massage parlor.
The day of the wedding arrived. She had me serve as both a witness and a maid of honor. Her husband was a fine man, charming, and, knowing Chantal, an excellent catch. There was another woman who served as a maid of honor, a beautiful woman. Chantal had mentioned this woman to me. She had just separated and was only, with difficulty, regaining a taste for life. She had at least wanted to come to the wedding. She was, in fact, a woman after my own heart, and Chantal knew that.
Chantal had had the nerve to seat Patricia next to me at the wedding party's table. It was difficult for me to strike up a conversation with her throughout the entire celebration. She seemed to want to remain alone in her corner. I let Chantal know that the task would be most difficult.
"I know you. You always get what you want," she said.
When everyone was dancing, Patricia disappeared. I finally found her outside, despondent. We started talking. As Chantal had told me, I always get what I want. When she began to cry, I took her in my arms in order to comfort her. She gave into my embrace. I then held her face in my hands, and tried to lick her tears with my tongue. She drew her head back suddenly, but continued to lean against me. Her eyes questioned me. I smiled at her and kissed her on the mouth. Then, she leaped up, out of my arms, and left in all haste. I had acted too quickly. I spoke to Chantal about what happened, and she told me that all was not lost. I did not see Patricia again for the rest of the celebration.
Chantal asked me if I would go to her house, while she and her husband were away, to do a little tidying-up. She told me that the house was brimming with wedding presents. I went to her house two days after the wedding, the day before my departure. Patricia was also there. Her greeting was cold. We went about cleaning up. I finally apologized for my behavior at the time of the reception. She told me that all was forgotten. The atmosphere became more relaxed, and the ice slowly began to melt. She became very friendly, and we began to talk as though we were old friends. From time to time, I caught her looking at me.
"Is there a problem?," I asked her.
"No, no. Excuse me."
In the bedroom, I found Chantal's wedding dress on her bed. I thought that she was very sexy in it. I amused myself by putting it on. Fortunately, she had worn a white bra with it. I could see the aureoles of my breasts through the fabric. Since I was only wearing sheer slips, I could also see my black g-string. I left the room to show myself to Patricia.
"How do I look in it?"
She looked at me for a long time, surprised.
"You know," she said, "a bride should only wear white undergarments under a wedding dress."
"I know, but I found that I am sexier, hornier dressed this way, don't you think?"
I saw her eyes gleam. I had achieved the desired effect.
"It is true that you are sexy dressed that way."
"And if you were to wear the groom's tuxedo. Wouldn't that make for a great laugh?"
"You think so?"
"Go on, we can have a little laugh?"
"OK, I'll do it!"
She went into the bedroom. She came out fifteen minutes later.
"It's funny, to see you dressed that way."
"I don't make a believable groom? Well, as long as you like it."
I put on Mendelssohn's wedding march, and took Patricia by the arm.
"Let's get married!," I said to her.
She resisted, then advanced with me. Near the table, facing the mirror, I said:
"I, Romane, take Patricia, present here, as my husband."
I looked at her.
"Repeat after me. I, Patricia, take Romane as my wife."
She did as she was instructed.
"You may kiss the bride."
I looked at her. Her eyes were always brilliant.
"Well, you may kiss me."
She took me in her arms and kissed me on the cheek. I then grabbed her head and pressed my lips into hers. She did not draw back this time. She finally opened her mouth so that I could slip her my tongue. Our kiss was tender. We drew even closer together, and I felt something hard around her lower stomach, something that one would not expect to feel on a woman. This time, it was I who drew back.
"What's that?," I asked, touching the lump under her pants.
"Well, my penis!"
"You have a penis?"
"No, I took Chantal's dildo to make myself more believable as a groom."
I looked at her, and smiled. I kissed her another time, then slid to the ground. I unfastened her pants, and took out the plastic device. I took it in my mouth, and sucked on it as though it were an actual penis. I kneaded the flesh of her ass cheeks. I then relieved her of her pants, realizing that the beauty was quite wet. I caressed her gently. She moaned. Finding my own sex sufficiently wet, I rose. I kissed her again, and led her to the table. I had her face me, and, raising my lace slips, I slipped off my g-string. It was soaked. I sniffed it, and tossed it to Patricia. She caught it, and also sniffed it. I saw a smile of great satisfaction. I turned around, and leaning with my hands on the table, offered her my rump.
"Does my husband wish to honor me now?"
She took off her vest and shirt, keeping only the dildo around her waist. She approached me. Slowly, she penetrated me with the gadget. I screamed.
"Did I hurt you?," she asked, frightened.
"No, no. Continue!"
She obeyed, and penetrated me all the way up to the hilt of the device. Slowly, she pressed on with a long movement of in-and-out, in-and-out, fucking me superbly this way. I felt her breasts on my back, and this fact increased my pleasure tenfold. I had a superb orgasm thanks to her. We next went into the bedroom, and made love all day long.
We finally finished when she realized that she had forgotten her train. We saw each other from time to time, before she finally found a man. Too bad! She was quite gifted.