Wedding Date

My next-door neighbor, Connie, is home alone most of the time. Her husband is a long-distance truck driver and is sometimes gone for weeks. She’s easy to hang out with, and we do so two or three times a week, either having coffee in the morning or a couple of drinks after work, always on her porch. We’d never crossed the line of appropriateness, although she’ll tell the occasional off-color joke and made comments about jumping her husband as soon as he came through the door after a long absence.

She was on her porch with another woman one evening when I parked my car and yelled for me to bring a six-pack and join them. I did, and was introduced to Karen, who was a high school classmate of Connie’s. After a couple of beers, Karen went inside to use the bathroom, and Connie asked me if I would be willing to escort Karen to her daughter’s wedding the following weekend. Her ex-husband was bringing some sweet young thing to the wedding and Karen did not want to go alone. At first I refused, but with a couple more beers and two women persuading me, I agreed to do it.

The wedding was Saturday afternoon and the reception would be held from four to eight. Karen was staying at the hotel where the reception would be held, and had a room for Friday and Saturday. I was told to bring a change of clothes to go out after the wedding.
I met Karen at the hotel before the reception, and followed her up to her room to drop off my bag with the change of clothes. She had a cooler on her dresser, and I sat on her bed drinking a beer while she spent some time in the bathroom. The door was open and we talked while she was messing with her makeup. The sweet young thing was cute and perky and that seemed to irritate Karen. My cover story, if asked, was that we used to work together and met for drinks occasionally.

I was seated at the parent’s table, but Karen and her husband were outside waiting for introductions. The sweet young thing and I were seated next to each other, and I learned that she and the ex-husband were not an item, but rather she was brought as arm candy for him. I almost spilled the beans that I was there for the same reason, but did not.

The reception dinner was long and boring. Karen was off talking to people most of the time, as was the ex, so Kelly (the sweet young thing) and I spent a fair amount of time together. She worked with the ex, and he had asked her out a few times, but she declined. He caught her in a weak moment and she agreed to come to the wedding. Karen and I danced a couple of times, and Kelly and I danced a couple also.
After the reception everyone went up to the rooms to change. Karen changed in the bathroom while I was changing in the room. Taxis carried everyone to a club about a mile away and most stayed to close it down. Kelly and I exchanged phone numbers before she left. I was planning to leave at some point because I couldn’t drink more and drive, but Karen invited me to sleep on the second bed in her room, and I was at the point where I shouldn’t be driving anyway, so I accepted.

There were fewer unoccupied taxis when everyone poured out of the club, so we squeezed into the two that were available. Karen sat on my lap with her arm around my shoulders on the way to the hotel.

Back in the room, she made a comment about her ex and the firm young body he was probably enjoying at that very moment. I laughed and told her that Kelly was there for the same reason that I was. Karen walked up to me, and started undoing my shirt buttons. “Want to make a brand-new mother-in-law happy tonight?†was all she said. After removing my shirt, she pulled my undershirt up over my arms. Then she went to work on my pants. Once I was wearing only my socks, she told me to do the same to her. As I was undressing her, she began to kiss me. We stood there, running our hands over each other and kissing. Her nipples became very hard. As I was moving my fingers between her legs, she pushed me away and said, “I need to take care of something.â€

We were standing outside the bathroom, and I watched her take a tube out of her bag and apply lubricant down below. She took me to the bed, rolled me over onto my back and then rubbed my penis up and down between her legs. She inserted me into her and then lowered herself down on top of me. I didn’t last very long, and we were soon sleeping.

Later, just as it was starting to show light outside, I heard her get out of bed and walk to the bathroom. As she approached the bed she said, “Rise and shine! Time for round two.†Again, she got on top of me, but this time she was rubbing herself as she moved up and down. Her orgasm was quick and her movements were herky-jerky during it. She got off me, and rolled over onto her back, pulling me on top of her. She felt nice inside and used her hands on my buttocks to guide the rhythm she wanted. After we finished, I took a shower, got dressed, and drove home.

Connie was on her porch with a cup of coffee as I pulled into my driveway. She yelled out, “The Walk of Shame?†as I was getting out of the car. “I’ll pour you a coffee†was all she said as she went inside. She wanted to know all the details, but cut me off as soon as I mentioned the seating arrangements, telling me that she only wanted bedroom stuff.

She stopped me as I was getting undressed in the story, and told me to turn my chair away from hers. She did the same, and told me to continue. I could hear a snap opening and a zipper going down and realized that she was going to masturbate to my words. So, I took my time, making sure that all details were supplied. Risking a look over my shoulder, I could see her head was back and her arm was moving, but couldn’t see much else. “Are you hard?†she asked. I told her I was, and she told me to stroke myself for the rest of the story. When I finished round one in the story and started to tell her about round two, I turned my head and saw her eyes watching my hand going up and down. “You might as well come over here and watch†I said, and she did, standing in front of me with her hand down her pants and moving her arm.
“Not fair!†I said. You can see me but I can’t see youâ€. She hesitated, but then put both hands on the waist of her pants and pushed them down to her knees, then resumed what she had been doing. There was no more story telling now; we both were concentrating on each other’s hands. She was standing in front of me and I was sitting in the chair with my pants around my ankles.

I took my hand away from my cock and held it out to her, with my fingers open. “Give me some of your juices.†Immediately she inserted two fingers and brought them out glistening. Her fingers smeared mine and I brought it back, rubbed her Juices all over my cock, and resumed stroking. She came right after that; a long groaning orgasm. After, she kept moving her fingers between the lips watching me intently. Suddenly, she leaned over and brought her head down toward my lap. I anticipated lips circling me, but instead she stopped about an inch away and let saliva run from her mouth to the tip of my cock. I started moaning and she stood up quickly backing away a step. I stood up also and put my arms around her, while rubbing my spurting cock against her pubic hair and belly. She put her arms around me and held me tightly as I rubbed against her belly until I was done.

I pulled up my pants, fastened, and sat down. She pulled hers up, but walked inside. She came out about five minutes later wearing a change of clothes and carrying two cups of coffee.

Kelly called me the next week and we met for drinks. She admitted that she might have given the ex a “mercy fuck†after the reception. I had to confess that I might have done the same, and we both had a good laugh over it. We did some making out after leaving the bar, but nothing ever came of it. Karen came over to Connie’s a few times and we’d have a beer or two. Connie and I never repeated the performance on her porch, but we would have some titillating conversations.