Community Too
Chapter 8

Copyright© 2015 by oyster50

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 8 - The continuing adventures of Cindy and the gang at school and work and home.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Fiction   Masturbation   Oral Sex   Petting   Safe Sex   Geeks  

Cindy's turn:

Let me tell you about a day in another universe. I was Matron of Honor at my mom's wedding. Dan and I and Mister Bill and Mom talked about how it was going to be.

You absolutely know that Terri and Rachel are the flower girls. Bot-bot's the ringbearer, something that had Mister Bill shaking his head. Of course my Dan's the best man, a title that I reinforced the previous night, okay?

Grandma Desai provided flowers and a reception table full of the best she could harangue her staff into producing. We had everybody there from the community.

Mister Bill had several of his friends from the club there.

"I always thought that if I got married, it'd be MY friends from a nightclub there," Mom said. "My world is upside down." She poked Bill in the side. "I guess that's what happens when you're head over heels, huh?"

"You're gonna have to do without me for two weeks, guys," he announced at a staff meeting. "This is my honeymoon, and that's a pretty lady and I'm damn sure NOT going to spend it in a motel in Alabama!"

"I got your back, Bill," Jason said. "After what you do to those contractors, they'll see me as a relief."

"Yeah," Bill said. "Just see to it that they don't get TOO relieved."

Mom and Bill are going to Hawaii.

In the days leading up to the wedding, Mom and I talked. That's surreal enough. I wanted so bad for years to think Mom would change, but I never allowed myself to be optimistic. Now I have a mom who talks with me.

"I only dreamed," Mom told me. "Cindy, the guy LOVES me, warts 'n' all, and he wants to take me to HAWAII!"

"I'm only a little jealous, Mom," I said. "Trip to Hawaii. I got a night in the desert last month..."

"Oh, baby," she said softly, gathering me in for a hug – a HUG! From Mom! "You dragged me into this. We're so upside down."

"Mom, I'm happy. This part of my life, I just hoped and prayed ... Prayers were answered."

"I just can't believe it. I never saw myself..."

"Mom, you never had somebody like Mister Bill..."

"I wasn't the kind of woman Mister Bill would have loved, baby..."

The whole thing was a little avalanche in the middle of all the other little avalanches in the lives of our community.

We decided that we couldn't fit the whole thing into any of the open spaces in our office or the apartment. The new building is a few weeks from us moving in, so we rented the hall at the church.

Mom didn't do a white wedding gown and I'd NEVER seen Mister Bill in a suit, but there they were – Mom in a very tasteful, simple light blue dress and Mister Bill, now my stepdad, in a business suit.

Tina and Beck had decked out Terri and Rachel in a pair of identical dresses to play the part as matching flower girls, because, per Terri, "You NEED one flower girl, but me 'n' Rachel, we're a TEAM!"

Flowers were some fragrant thing provided by my adopted Grandma Desai. "I chose these for color and sweet smell. You cannot find them in the flower market because they only last a day. She told Mom, "Daughter Donna, the flowers will fade quickly. Your love will last forever. I will make offering to Shiva."

Mom laughed. The news had already gotten out about Tina's and Susan's pregnancies and Grandma Desai's 'lingam' comment. "Momma Desai, offer all you want in our names to Shiva, but stay away from that lingam. I am not looking for fertility here."

So it's a good thing that our Baptist pastor is a bit open-minded about marriage ceremonies, because we had elements of Protestant Christianity, Orthodox Jewish, and Hindu all stuck together in various corners of that event. "Just so I get to hold the Book and say the words," he laughed. "We ALL come from someplace, and we all end up here."

So – Mom in her dress, Mister Bill in his suit, me in MY dress, my Dan in HIS suit, Sim and Beck over on the side, Sim with his kippah, Grandma Desai and her real daughter and son there, Grandma Desai in her best traditional sari and her extra-special jeweled bindi.

"Bot-bot," Terri commanded. "Pictures. Panorama."

Bot-bot did his "yes, Terri" beep, making R2D2 sound like a monosyllabic retard, rolled to the middle of the room, extended his 'head' to full height, and let it swivel. I knew that the video was going into memory as well as being uploaded to the company server.

Bot-bot did his "Okay?" beep.

"Go get the ring platform," Terri said.

Query beep.

"Tabletop. North."

"Beepity." Humming and the sound of rubber tracks, and Bot-bot was holding the velvet pillow.

The pastor moved to the front of the room to the podium, cleared his throat. The ceremony was getting ready to begin.

"Friends and family," He said. "Would you join me in this celebration?"

We moved to our positions at the front of the room. The organist laid on a subdued version of The Wedding March and Mister Bill and Mom entered together, her hand on his arm.

"Bot-bot, Mizz Donna," Terri commanded.

I'm privy to some of this event. Terri's the only one with a business card with both a pTerri-dactyl on it AND the title of Google Engineering Concept Consultant.

When the preacher got to the 'ring' part of the ceremony, when Bot-bot heard the word 'ring', he raised that silly pillow with the two gold rings on it. Rings and vows exchanged, I watched my MOM get married, right there in front of me. And she kissed Mister Bill.

And I cried like a big sentimental nutcase. Cried. With a smile on my face.

And it got MORE surreal. Dancing in some Baptist churches is a no-no, but we sort of dodged the issue by providing our own music in the form of MY Dan, me, Nikki with her Cajun triangle, and her Dan with that accordion. And we sang a couple of two-steps and a couple of waltzes, giving my new step-dad and Mom something to dance to.

Terri was over by Bot-bot, whispering at him to get the right pictures and videos. He wasn't the only camera, either.

We sent 'em off in Mister Bill's big pickup truck, headed to connect with a flight that would end up with them in Hawaii.

The pastor sidled up to Dan. "You have videos?"

"Yes?"

"Pictures?"

"Oh, yes. This gang doesn't do anything without huge amounts of documentation."

"I want some of it. Nobody's EVER going to believe this one. I can't wait to show this off at my next convention. I'll SEE your 'Princess Di wedding gown and raise you a robot ring-bearer. And bump you a live Cajun band."

"Baptist preachers aren't supposed to know that much about gambling," Dan laughed.

"If you've seen me play poker, you'd know there's little gambling involved," the preacher laughed.

Yes, he'll get the videos and the pictures. The part he can't see is that smile in my heart.

In the truck on the way back to the apartment, I touched my Dan's hand.

"You're thinking again, aren't you," he laughed.

"Oh, god, Dan, I AM!!!! Mom is MARRIED. That in itself is almost unbelievable. That it's to Mister Bill, a man I know and admire, that's right up there with pulling a rock out of your shoe and finding it's a ten-carat diamond."

"I am equally amazed, little redheaded girl."

"Sociology," I said. Let's see if his mind shifts. It's a fun game we play.

"And where does sociology play into this?"

"Archaic traditions surrounding weddings. Honeymoons."

"I'm probably gonna LIKE this, ain't I?"

"I'm thinking," I said.

"That's where it all went off the track, little one. Both of us started thinking."

"Of each other ... But anyway ... the mating of ONE couple ... that sort of sanctified the mating of MANY couples surrounding the ceremony. I'm thinking that it's a perfectly LOVELY tradition and we ought to bring it back and do our little part in honoring the wedding of people we love by loving each other." I sighed. "Vigorously. Frequently."

"Put a black block on the calendar," he said.

I opened our community calendar app and giggled.

"What's so funny?"

"Nikki and Dan, black block. Susan 'n' Jason, black block. I guess Terri and Rachel are at Beck's, because there's a black block for Alan and Tina..."

"Well, if Johanna was here with that Celtic-Norse thing she does every now and then, we'd be dancing nude around a bonfire..."

I giggled. "Nooooo, not until the summer solstice. We have a reservation at the park..."

"You're kidding..."

"Maybe. Maybe not. You gotta admit, she does 'Celtic priestess' pretty good."

"And you, naked, dancing in the moonlight..."

"Mmmm," I said, reliving SOME of those, from the way back when we were first together, on the banks of an Alabama creek, to just a couple of weeks back when we had that conference at Los Alamos.

Dan asked around about some isolated desert airstrips. "So, if a plane was to LAND there and stay overnight, you know, air-camping, nobody'd care ... show up to see what's going on?"

"No, not likely. Too for north for DEA to get excited..."

And we landed there. Rolled out an inflatable mattress and sleeping bags and ... The moon is sooooo BIG in the desert air. And trillion stars you can't see through the humidity and the ambient light back home...

I HAD to be naked. Had to. The moon and stars BEGGED to shine on my naked body. That's Johanna's influence. She told me about her and Stoney on their boat in the moonlight. How could I give my Dan any less?

And give, I did. And received. So yes, I know quite much about dancing naked in the moonlight.

Giggle. Nikki and her Dan were on the same trip, but they didn't want to risk the relatively tender landing gear of their Mooney on some strip of dirt in the desert. Her Dan did the research, though, and they found a paved strip that offered them the same opportunity.

I know. We compared notes when we got home.

"We need to borrow your plane for a week," Susan said.

I'm imagining blonde Susan in the moonlight, trying to perform CPR on Jason, who's had cardiac arrest from sensory overload. Susan's the most conservative of us. She's told us NO tales of her and Jason cavorting outdoors. It'll kill him. I mean, I absolutely ADORE my Dan, but Jason puts Susan so far up on a pedestal it's almost funny.

But I'm having all these thoughts and poor Dan is trying NOT to hurry home, even though he and the rest of us are well known to the local police department. Hardly a week goes by that one or two of 'em don't stroll in to have a cup of coffee and a chat. Still, it would be silly to have to parlay that good will over a stupid speeding ticket.

 
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