The General
Chapter 11

Copyright© 2015 by Bethany Ann

Fiction Sex Story: Chapter 11 - A VERY handsome young man, named after a famous Confederate general, has no trouble finding all sorts of women to sleep with. He has an unbelievable job - assisting high school girls to become cheerleaders in college. Sometimes their mothers offer incentives. Occasionally, their fathers find out!

Caution: This Fiction Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Consensual   Romantic   Reluctant   First   Oral Sex   Anal Sex  

Mark was taking the day off, recovering from his late night prom experience. He had already concluded that one advantage of that evening was the absence of alcohol and thus, the absence of hangovers. He was just tired, plain and simple. It had been a very full evening, and he had not returned to his home until well past two in the morning. He managed to sleep until ten and then find his way, first to the hot tub on his deck to exorcise whatever muscle demons plagued him, and later to the hammock for some serious time thinking about things in general.

He had been troubled now for several weeks by the question that Sandy Mason had posed to him. Did he really have to sleep with all the candidates, or to the deeper issue -- that doing that makes it pretty hard to define fidelity in marriage, doesn't it? He knew that there will always be the Sue Ann Pfeiffers, the hot little minks that just can't get enough sex. Sure, she was cute as can be, and really hot in bed, but after that, what?

Then there was the other Sandy Mason question -- what about Sandy Mason? She is definitely a beautiful girl, who certainly has her head screwed on straight, there was no doubt about that. What else could he say -- intelligent, thoughtful, considerate, sensitive -- she would be strong and positive about life and yet totally devoted to her marriage and husband. But she was just barely seventeen and letting her make that commitment at that age would be terribly unfair to her. After a moment's reflection, he decided that he was very glad he had declined her invitation to spend the night with her.

Perhaps it was time for another round of golf with his favorite Guru, Paul.

Lying on his sofa, wearing only some ratty Bermuda shorts and sipping on his favorite cold brew, he was trying to do some serious catnapping while still watching the ball game on television. His cell phone had other ideas, however.

"Aha! He is alive," was all that he heard as he answered it.

"Hi, this is Mark. I'm trying to watch the ball game. Please leave your name and..." he responded, mimicking his answering machine message.

"All right. All right! Mark, it's Debbie Janicke."

"Hi, Debbie. What's up?"

"I tried to reach you about a dozen times yesterday, but your message box was full and you never picked up live."

"Yes, it gets that way sometimes. I was out of town."

"Haven't you even checked your messages? I called several times."

"No, I'll do that later, I guess. No hurry, they'll still be there when I get to them. So, what's up?"

"Do you remember Caitlin Kennedy? She was a year ahead of me in school."

"No, I don't, sorry. Her name does not ring a bell. Why, should I know something about her?"

"No. She is getting married next Saturday in Atlanta, and I was asked to assist with one of the tables where people put their cards and things, you know, before the ceremony."

"Okay, so?"

"So, the reception is being held at the St. Regis in Atlanta, and I was just told by one of my other sorority sisters that I need an escort for the evening. I immediately thought of you. Would you be kind enough to escort me to the reception?"

"As long as you don't insist that I participate in the garter toss contest, I will be happy to accompany you. At the St. Regis, huh? I assume it is black tie."

"Yes it is. Sorry."

"Oh, that's fine. No problem. I just wanted confirmation. This is just the reception, right? I don't have to go to the courthouse and get a license or anything, do I?" Mark had suddenly come alive with his version of wit.

"Oh, good grief!" There was definitely exasperation in her tone. "No, we don't need a marriage license, unless you want one, of course. You do realize, don't you, that many of the people attending this will be people that were at school with you."

"Yes, I am sure that many of our friends will be there. It should be fun. I look forward to the evening. Are you picking me up?" He was enjoying the banter.

"Now, why would I be picking you up? Isn't it usually the other way around?"

"Well you asked me out, so I just figured..."

"Mark, will you be serious for a minute? No, I am not picking you up, and I will expect you at my house by five o'clock next Saturday. Got that?"

"Yes, ma'am!" he said contritely.

She sighed. "Good grief!!!" After a pause, she added very sweetly, "Thank you Mark."


The St. Regis Hotel in Atlanta is the premier location for an event such as a wedding reception. The hotel itself has received five "everything" ratings from all of the bureaus that offer such advice. The facility itself is enormous. If you opted for just the Astor Ballroom, you could easily seat almost eight hundred guests for dinner. If your party was larger, they offer an enormous tent like structure capable of covering more than ten thousand square feet of perfectly manicured lawn, making it the largest outdoor pavilion in the South. Inside, beyond the main ballroom dining area, and "hidden" behind curtains so expertly crafted so as to appear to be a continuation of a wall, was the orchestra pavilion and dance floor. Considering this location for your daughter's wedding reception is definitely not for the faint of heart.

The wedding itself had taken place in late afternoon while the reception was planned for six o'clock, giving those attending the wedding just enough time to move from one location to the next and "freshen up" as necessary. Debbie's role was to stand behind a table at an entrance to the truly grand Astor Ballroom and point out to arriving guests the existence of a large crystal bowl that sat on that table, encouraging them to place whatever gift cards there. Because of the venue, and the number of invited guests, there were three other women posted at other entrances as well, each with their own crystal bowl. It was to be a grand wedding, to be sure.

Mark made his way to one of the many bars set up in the room and encountered several of his former classmates there as well. He had lost touch with most of them as they went about their separate lives after graduation, and he was pleased for the opportunity to reconnect. He did manage to keep his eye on the doorway and when he saw Debbie enter the ballroom, he quickly broke away from the bar to rejoin her.

They stood together, not saying anything, just standing there looking across the ballroom at the guests as they began to find their seats. Debbie spoke first. "I don't think, if I invited everyone that I knew, that I could find this many people to invite."

"There are quite a few people here, aren't there? I can't imagine how much this night will cost her father."

"I don't think that will be a problem for him. He owns seventeen auto dealerships in Georgia and Alabama. Their house is enormous."

"I hope her husband can support her in the lifestyle to which she is accustomed."

Debbie sighed, audibly, "How did such a grand evening dissolve so quickly into a matter of economics?"

"Well, think about it Debbie. Let's say there are six hundred guests here tonight. The sit down dinner will cost at least a hundred dollars a person, possibly more, and the open bar for three hours will easily be that much, so we're talking about one hundred twenty thousand dollars just for food and booze. Then you have to pay the band, rent the ballroom, offer some gratuity to the wait staff, and cover the room charges for the extended wedding party. Altogether, I'll bet he spends a hundred and fifty K just for tonight."

 
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