Day 1:

Jules lay on her hotel bed, her curly auburn hair splayed across her pillow. Her fingertips drew small circles over her aching clit. A warm glow spread though out her tired body. She had been on a book tour for the last several weeks and was starting to feel a bit road weary.

In her mind, she fantasized about Michael, her college boyfriend. The image of his tall, muscular body, his hard cock stark white in contrast to his body's dark tan, enveloped her. Jules opened her mouth to accept her dream's phantom cock, her free hand pinching one of her taut nipples. The fantasy seemed so real.

Her body stiffened and she clamped her legs together, trapping her fingers in her pussy as she came. As the last tremors faded away, she stretched on top of her sheets and sighed. Fantasies were a poor substitute for the real thing.

Jules stood and went into the bathroom. Standing in front of the full-length mirror she turned and admired herself. She stood five feet nine inches tall in her bare feet. The height helped her carry her figure and she carefully weighed her full breasts and her toned, rounded hips. She didn't fit into the current "skinny with big tits" style of beauty, but she didn't care. She was occupied examining her large, coral pink nipples, considering another round of self-pleasure, when the phone rang.

Jules flipped her long curly hair out of the way as she ran to answer the phone.

"Hello?"

"Jules? It's me, Michael."

Laughing like a little girl, she jumped on to the bed, her heart soaring. "You know, I was just thinking about you," she said.

They had been lovers during their junior and senior years in college. Young and horny, they had let their imaginations lead them through a wide range of sexual exploration in their short time together. Their affair had been intense, almost all consuming in its physical passion but they had split before graduation to seek separate careers. Through the years, they had remained best friends despite the job pressures and time apart.

Although it had been several months since they'd spoken, Jules wasted no time starting to chat about her book tour and gossip about mutual friends until Michael uncharacteristically interrupted her.

"Jules. There's something I need to tell you." Michael sounded a bit more urgent than his carefree personality usually allowed.

Jules chuckled as she rolled off the bed and walked to the mirror over the dresser, holding the phone. Gathering her hair behind her neck, she admired herself in the mirror. Jules walked back toward the bed watching her ass in the mirror.

"Mikey, you sound all serious."

He took a deep breath. His voice came in a rush.

"I met someone. We're getting married."

Jules' brain froze. She walked into the bed and banged her shin, dropping the phone on her foot in the process.

"Shit!"

Frantically pulling herself together, Jules scrambled to pick up the phone receiver.

"Jules! Jules, are you OK?"

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm still here," Jules said as her eyes watered.

"The wedding's at the end of the week. Her name is Iris. She's a broadcast journalism student UVa. Oh Jules, you'll love her. We met at the Virginia - Virginia Tech game last year. It's been like riding a whirlwind ever since." Jules heart sank as Mike gushed on and on about his impending marriage.

"And Jules, you have to come and be here with me. I can't get married without my best friend."

Cold anger replaced her despair. "I'll be there Michael. I promise."

Jules hung up the phone and picked herself off the floor. She walked into the bathroom in a daze. Looking at herself in the mirror, she put her hands on her hips.

"Oh, I'll be there alright. He can't marry some college bimbo. He won't. He loves me. He's always loved me. I just have to open his eyes and make him see the truth."

She brushed the hair out of her face and lit a cigarette.

"Whoever she is, that poor girl doesn't stand a chance."

The next morning, Jules flew to Richmond. Stepping off of the jet way she straightened her blazer and scanned the crowd. She saw Michael on the other side of the crowd, standing anxiously beside a newspaper machine. A smile crept across her face.

"Six foot two and eyes of blue," she sang to herself as she headed in his direction.

He was tall and tan, just like she'd remembered. Dressed in a rumpled work shirt and faded blue jeans, he looked more like a construction worker than the investment banker that he was. Jules guessed that the slender young woman standing next to him was Iris and she slowed her pace to study her rival.

Iris was petite and cute, the top of her head barely reaching Michael's shoulder. She had long straight blonde hair and a deep even tan. "Country club queen," Jules thought to herself. She noted that Michael's fiancé wore hip hugger jeans and tight Lycra halter under an old white dress shirt knotted to show off her pierced belly button. The girl's look screamed "high school cheerleader."

Jules smelled victory. She had debated with herself for hours before deciding what to wear. After trying and rejecting the bustier and miniskirt look ("too slutty") and a mauve silk pantsuit ("I look like an aging lesbian"), Jules had settled on a light blue, double-breasted jacket and skirt. Turning around in the mirror, she had made sure that the suit showed just enough cleavage to assure Michael that she wasn't sagging and enough leg to show him that she still had muscle tone.

Now, looking at Iris, she knew that she had made the right choice. She was the embodiment of elegance and grace and she was going to wipe 'Miss Spice Girl' right out of the picture.

"Michael, it's so good of you to meet me," Jules said as she wrapped herself around her ex-lover.

She pressed her tits against his hard chest and was rewarded when she felt his groin twitch against her belly. Breaking the tantalizing contact, Jules turned to the younger woman before Michael had a chance to speak.

"And this must be Iris. I've been dying to meet you."

After Michael had managed a self-conscious introduction, Iris had started chatting as if she was Jules' long lost friend. While Michael grabbed Jules' luggage, Iris took Jules by the hand and led her to the parking garage. They got into Iris' car as she talked a mile-a-minute about dress fittings, floral arrangements, and other wedding details.

Jules looked over her shoulder at Michael but he was in the back seat of the car smiling as if all were going according to his plan. Steeling herself for the task at hand, she reminded herself that she was here to get Michael back and if she lost, she lost him forever.

Suddenly, Jules' attention snapped back to Iris' one-sided conversation. Jules realized that she had been asked a question.

"Excuse me?" she leaned closer to Iris as if she hadn't heard what had been said.

"I just asked if you'd be my Maid of Honor." Jules, stunned to silence, looked back at Michael but he was still grinning like an idiot. Iris continued without missing a beat.

"I mean... my only two female relatives under the age of 50 are my cousins. Manny and Fanny, the vengeful sluts from Texas." Iris took the exit ramp at full speed and then looked at Jules. "Please say that you will. It would mean so much to Michael and me to have you as part of the wedding ceremony."

Jules numbly nodded her head while her mind raced to come up with a way to use this new development to her advantage. While Jules was busy thinking, Iris took them directly to a fashionable dress shop.

Michael sat watching as Iris flitted around helping Jules into a gown. Jules stood, impotent and trapped by the seamstress' pins, while Iris and Michael sat at her feet and cooed over each other. It was almost enough to make her sick.

Having been pinned and chalked into her new bridesmaid's gown, Jules retired to the changing room to carefully slip out of the dress and back into her own clothes. She had just finished arranging the gown on its hanger and was sitting on a stool, dressed in nothing but her panties and garters. There was a soft knock on the door, but before she could say anything, Michael stuck his head into the changing room.

"Hey Jules," he stopped as if suddenly realizing that he was talking to a half naked woman. More than that, she was a beautiful half naked woman. His cock swelled. Michael stepped inside the room, quickly closing the door behind him.

"Uhhh. Hey I'm sorry to barge in like this." He struggled to keep from staring at her large coral tipped breasts. "I've got to go back to my parent's house. I... uh, just wanted to tell you that Iris would bring you over so that you could say hi to the family."

Jules gave him a smoldering look. She decided to give him a better look. Standing, she put one foot on the stool and leaned over to pick up her shoe by its strap. A smile twitched across her lips as she saw his eyes frantically shifting between her D cups swaying in front of him and her firm ass displayed the mirror. After giving him a good look, Jules straightened and smoothed her garter straps against her thighs. She stepped toward him, closer but still out of arms reach. She stood up straight and drew her shoulders back, accentuating her breasts.

"Sure thing, Michael. I'm sure that Iris and I will be just fine together." She took another step toward him; anxious to see if he would reach out and touch her, but he only nodded and left the room like a scared rabbit.

Staring at the closed door, Michael's obvious interest in her body gave her the idea she had been struggling for. She would win him back the old fashioned way. With sex. First she'd get close to Iris. Then she'd run her off. Iris would leave. Michael would see that he had always loved her. And she would have her man back. And they would all live happily ever after.

With that idea rolling around in her head, Jules returned to the fitting room to help Iris with the final adjustments to her wedding gown. Iris had endured the same plucking and pinning as Jules and now the young blonde needed help extracting herself from the expensive lace and satin without getting stuck or losing a pin.

Helping Iris off the fitting room's dais, Jules shooed the seamstress out of the changing room. "I'll take care of my bride, thank you."

Alone for the first time since they'd met, Jules flashed Iris a big, sisterly smile.

"Oh I love this gown," Jules gushed.

Standing behind the smaller woman, Jules ran her hands around Iris' waist. "It fits so smoothly here."

Jules' hands followed the edge of the bodice. "And the detail of the lace is so intricate."

Iris shuddered as Jules' fingers traced the top of the bodice, barely skimming across the exposed slopes of her small breasts. "And I love what you've done with the neckline. Michael always was interested in cleavage."

Iris blushed slightly but before she could answer Jules started to unfasten the hooks on the back of the dress. Iris felt Jules' warm fingers against her back as the dress opened lower and lower, exposing her skin to the changing room's air-conditioned chill. Iris arched her back, ready to let Jules slide the gown off.

"No no. Stay still. We don't want to ruin the pinning on the straps," Jules told Iris.

Jules slid her hands into the gown under Iris' arms, her fingers brushing along the outside curves of Iris' small, firm breasts. Iris tried to avoid contact with Jules' hands but the older woman managed to graze her palms across Iris' nipples anyway. Jules smiled at Iris as she felt the younger woman's nipples harden under her hands.

Jules noticed a bright red flush spread across Iris' neck and chest. A glisten of perspiration appeared on her upper lip as Iris slid out of the top half of the gown but was still trapped by Jules' encircling arms. Jules, still guarding the alteration work on the gown, slowly lowered herself to the floor until she was kneeling behind Iris, her warm breath caressing the small of the blonde's back. Iris panicked as she realized that her French cut panties exposed quite a bit of her rear end to Jules' inspection.

Iris stepped out of the gown and moved quickly to her clothes. Iris fumbled with her shirt. Jules calmly hung the gown and returned to help button Iris' blouse. Jules brushed her fingers across Iris' sensitive nipples. Iris' lips quivered. She stood frozen, held captive by Jules' stare, helpless to move away from the redhead's teasing caresses.

As if being sucked into a whirlpool, Iris felt herself drawn toward Jules. Lips parted as the two women leaned closer to each other. They kissed softly and Iris felt Jules' tongue probe her lips. Their breasts met as Jules stepped closer and slipped her hands to Iris' hips. Iris sighed as the redhead's eraser shaped nipples dug into her chest like small, hard pebbles.

Iris opened her mouth. Their tongues became entwined like two snakes. Jules put her hand in the small of Iris' back and drew her close. Iris stood passively as Jules reached up to cup the blonde's apple-sized breast. Iris' head fell back and she gasped for breath. Jules slid her hand down, cupping Iris' rear as she bent to taste the young blonde's neck.

Iris' hand moved as if on its own accord and lightly cradled one of Jules' full breasts. Jules moaned into Iris' ear and held her tighter.

A knock on the door interrupted them. Reluctantly, Jules broke the kiss and stepped away from the flushed bride.

"Do you ladies need anything else?" The seamstress looked puzzled, but she didn't say anything.

Jules smiled broadly. "Nope. We're just about done here."

Iris' hands shook as she finished dressing. She hurried out of the changing room as soon as she was decent. Jules followed leisurely and got into the passenger seat of Iris' sporty little car.

Iris dropped the keys as she tried to start the car. When she finally got the keys into the ignition, she took a deep breath and kept her eyes locked onto the insignia in the middle of the steering wheel.

"I want to apologize," her voice was soft and hesitant. "I don't know what came over me. It must by the jitters. I've never..."

"Been with another woman?" Jules took Iris' hand into hers and kissed it lightly. "Don't let it bother you. Us girls have to look out for each other."

Jules was surprised by the look of gratitude that filled Iris' countenance. The plan had begun.

As they drove along the winding, oak-shaded streets, Jules was surprised that she recognized things from her previous visits. Iris smoothly pulled into the driveway but quickly jumped out of the car before Jules could say a word.

Jules sat quietly for a moment and looked at the big, colonial style house. Memories of old parties and crazy adventures flooded back. Climbing out of the car, Jules stared at the clapboard garage. She felt herself flush as she remembered the time Michael had chained her to a wooden frame in that garage and role-played a bondage rape scene that had made her cum so hard that she had blacked out from the pleasure.

Following the slate walk around the house, the smell of the azaleas brought back the memory of her first threesome. Michael had organized a ménage a'trois on the pool deck to give his cousin a memorable farewell before he left for boot camp. She flushed as she fondly recalled the two cocks pummeling her before they spewed their seed into her willing body.

It had also been the night of her first double penetration. She had mounted Michael's cousin, slowly posting up and down on his thick shaft, when she felt Michael's fingers massaging her little brown rosette. As the cousin, who's name she still couldn't remember, had sucked and pinched her tits, Michael was busy spreading the remnants of their previous coupling in the cleft between her ass cheeks. He inserted one finger and pressed against the cock in her pussy and she had cried out. Michael added a second digit, expanding the door to her back passage and increasing the friction inside her body. Jules had cried out a second time when the fat head of Michael's manhood had pressed against her tight anal ring, but he had carefully worked it inside her. They had fucked her slowly, with long, deep strokes. She remembered the amazing feeling of their cocks filling and stretching her, driving her to spasms of ecstasy before flooding her once again.

Jules started as she realized that her hand had crept inside her blouse. Composing herself, she turned toward the back porch but stopped again as she glimpsed of the little gazebo, partly hidden behind a huge magnolia tree.

The cloying smell of the tree's blossoms had filled the night air. Michael had led her to the small structure. Louisa, the maid, sat in the shadows, her presence betrayed by the glowing tip of her cigarette. Obeying Michael's hushed commands, she had stripped and posed for Louisa. Louis made a show of dipping her fingers into her pussy and letting Jules lick them clean. Jules sighed nostalgically. The memory of Michael fucking her from behind while her face was sandwiched between the maid's brown thighs came rushing back. A nostalgic smile came to her as she remembered almost smothering between Louisa's legs.

Her loins tingling, Jules promised herself that there would be more occasions just like those, as soon as Iris was out of the way. She heard footsteps on the walk behind her and turned to see Iris standing a few feet away.

"Hey Iris. I was just looking around the back yard. Not much has changed."

Iris nervously shifted from one foot to the other. Licking her lips, she said, "C'mon inside. I'll introduce you to my family."

As Iris escorted around the party, Jules was embarrassed by all of the attention shown to her. Iris' family looked at her warily, suspicious that an old girlfriend would be invited to play such a prominent role in the wedding. More awkward were the greetings offered by Michael's family, especially the ones who hadn't seen her since she and Michael stopped dating. The wearying gauntlet of hands to shake and cheeks to kiss had thankfully led Jules to the bar.

Jules shared a secret smile with Iris over the lip of a champagne flute as she was introduced to the "vengeful sluts", Manny and Fanny Ball. The Ball girls were twins in every way: big hair, big boobs, and enough white shiny teeth to make a shark envious. The two tall tan blondes looked Jules over as if she were something to eat.

"So you're Michael's old flame," Manny goaded Iris.

Fanny leered at Jules' cleavage before chiming in. "And girl you've got to tell me where you got this suit."

Fanny ran her hand under Jules' lapel, using the back of her hand to make sure that the redhead was wearing a bra. Instead of shrinking from Fanny's touch, Jules leaned forward and pressed her breast against the inquisitive hand.

The twins shared a secret smirk. Manny took Iris by the arm and escorted her toward the pool. Fanny, her arm linked with Jules', pressed against the buxom redhead in a more than sisterly fashion.

"Don't mind poor little Iris. Trembling like a little mouse. She'll lighten up once Michael gets her started on a steady diet of dick."

Jules allowed herself to be steered around the room without answering.

Fanny continued sniping. "But dear, tell me. How is he? In bed I mean."

Jules helped herself to a champagne flute from a passing tray and surveyed the party scene before answering. The Ball girls were obviously used to acting scandalously at family gatherings and, from the way that the matriarchs of both families stood on the other side of the deck, pointing and whispering in sotto voce about the sisters, Jules saw that this wedding was no exception. She returned Fanny's saccharin sweet smile.

"Insatiable," she whispered in Fanny's ear. "And built like a horse. I swear that I couldn't walk some mornings because of him."

Jules enjoyed the look on Fanny's face and had just reached for another glass of champagne when someone touched her elbow.

"Jules? Is it really you?"

Jules looked up at the handsome young man standing beside her, but had trouble placing the deep tenor voice. Still she knew that he was somehow familiar. His sandy hair and broad chest reminded her of someone but she couldn't place exactly who.

"I'm sorry, I know that we've met..." She sounded a bit exasperated, maybe even a little annoyed, by the smug look on his face when he realized that she didn't recognize him.

"It's me, Parker."

"Ohmigod! It can't be."

For the first time since talking with Michael about his plans Jules realized how long it had been since she'd been around his family. Parker had been a pigeon-chested kid with mussed up hair and a mouth full of braces the last time she'd seen him. Now he was over six feet tall and broad shouldered. His muscular torso tapered into slim hips and Jules had a brief mental image of him naked before she realized that he was looking at her in an odd way.

"I guess I've grown a little," Parker said with a grin.

"I would say so."

"Remember when you taught me to dance?"

"It was the day before your first High School dance."

"I'll be starting my senior year at Tech next year. I get to go to lots of clubs. Let me show you how I've been practicing."

Parker led her to the pool terrace and took her into his arms. They danced stiffly at first but, as the music played, Jules found herself drawn closer to the man who was no longer the boy she had known. By the end of the second song, she was enjoying the feel of his hard muscular body pressed against hers. She closed her eyes and smiled as she felt the bulge in his pants harden and grow. The stiff cylinder of his manhood ground against her belly as they danced and the thought of dragging Michael's little brother off into one of the spare rooms flitted through her mind.

"Jules. Did I ever tell you that I had a big crush on you?" Parker said softly in her ear.

Jules had a vision of herself kneeling in front of Parker, his long cock in her hands as he sprayed his seed on her tits. She pushed her hips against his and rubbed against his swollen manhood. The song ended and Jules raised her head to invite Parker to the gazebo when they were interrupted.

"I've been looking for you two," Michael said, his goofy grin firmly in place. "Dad's ready to make the first toast and no one can find the Best Man or the Maid of Honor. C'mon! You're late!"

Throughout the toasts and the family jokes, Jules' mind churned. The clock was ticking and she'd have to act soon. Jules looked at Parker and then at the Ball sisters. An idea started to form in her head. The first step was to get Iris to trust her. That night, Jules looked at herself in the mirror, unsure if she could go through with her plan.

"Get tough girl," she said to her reflection. Then she smiled. "When the going gets tough, the tough get room service."

The champagne was delivered while Jules was still pacing the room in her bathrobe. The waiter, a slender Latino, fussed over opening the bottle and arranging the ice bucket. At first, she made a pretense of ignoring him but feeling of her nipples scraping against the soft terry cloth robe reminded her of the day's activities.

Jules stopped pacing and looked at the waiter. Casually loosening her robe's belt, Jules approached the service cart to sign the bill. Looking up quickly, she caught the waiter looking down the valley between her generous breasts all the way to her curly red pubes.

Jules took a step back from the cart. Placing her hands on her hips, she smiled as a lump grew in his trousers. She held her robe open, exposing her creamy white body to his hungry gaze.

"Service like yours deserves a tip. But I seem to have left my cash in my other suit."

Jules laughed as the waiter's eyes almost popped out of his head. He reached for her but she pushed his hands away and silenced him with a gentle finger against his lips.

"Before this goes any further, let's see if you're big enough to get the job done."

He stood stock still, frozen with indecision.

"Don't just stand there. Show me your cock!" she said impatiently.

The waiter fumbled with his belt. He dropped his pants to his knees and hastily pulled his cock from his briefs. He stood and waited for her next instruction.

Jules murmured in appreciation, his cock had grown to a nice size. Shorter than she usually liked, but thick. And the head was almost as round as a small ball.

"I'm going to fuck your brains out, don't worry. There's only one condition. You don't say a word." She dragged her finger over his chin and down to his cheap clip on bow tie. "Is it a deal? Nod, don't speak."

He nodded energetically. Jules hooked a finger under his bow tie and led him to the bedroom. Leaving him at the edge, she paraded around the bed, slowly dropping the robe from her shoulders. She turned to face him, now totally nude, and ran a hand lazily across her flat belly to the nest of strawberry curls between her legs.

The waiter trembled in anticipation but remained silent. Jules climbed on to the bed and lay back, her legs spread lewdly. The waiter's eyes were glued to her shaven pink slit. Jules smiled. The feeling of power was incredible. She reached down and spread the pale outer lips of her vagina. The musky scent of her pussy was unmistakable as she showed the anonymous waiter the dark pink recesses of her pussy.

The waiter stroked himself, waiting for her to direct the next move in their weird seduction. His nostrils drank in her tangy aroma. He would do anything to stick his cock in her and they both knew it.

Jules crawled to the edge of the bed. He held his breath as he watched her come closer. She looked into his eyes as she took hold of his cock, replacing his hand with hers. He groaned and pushed his hips forward, hoping that she would take him into her mouth. Instead, she used one smooth white hand to jack him off while she weighed his hairy, heavy balls with the other.

"Hmmm. Yesss. I think you'll do. Why don't you finish undressing and join me."

She reached over to the nightstand and groped around in the drawer while the waiter struggled to get his shoes and pants off. He awkwardly crawled on to the bed to join her, one black sock still on his foot. He knelt between her feet, his eyes feasting on the shiny coral flower that lay between her thighs. Jules hit him in the chest with a square foil packet.

"Put it on." Her hand returned to her clit. "And hurry."

In her imagination she was waiting for Michael's cock, displaying herself for him, just the way he liked it. Her eyes lost focus as she watched the anonymous man roll the latex sheath over his member. Her hand made squishing sounds as it delved into the sodden crevice between her labia.

Jules rolled over and presented her ass to him. "Fuck me from behind stud."

She felt his hands cradle her hips as he guided his tool into her love box. She grunted as he pushed hard, anxious to enter her wet snatch. He sank his entire length into her in only three short savage strokes and then started fucking her quick and hard.

"Yes. Yessss. That's the way I like it. You know how to fuck me, don't you Michael?"

The waiter, whose name was Jose, almost laughed aloud when he heard her cry out, but remembered their deal. He didn't care what she called him as long as he got to cum. Jose decided that this weird lady needed a good hard fucking to set her right.

He drove his cock into her cunt harder and deeper. Jules whined as his knees spread her legs wider and he used his arms to pound his cock deeper into her. His balls slapped against her bald pussy lips and his hands clenched her taut hips, spurring her on to fuck faster.

"Thick. Soooo full. Faster. Fuck me. Yesss." Jules moaned as she felt her climax build.

Jose saw her domineering façade crumble and wanted to show her that he knew how to take care of a whore. He put all his strength into his thrusts, slamming his hips against her ass. He enjoyed hearing her cries as he drove into her like a jackhammer. He groaned as he felt his balls tighten. With a shout, he fucked her faster and faster, mindless in his need to cum.

His cock erupted, filling the latex sheath with his jism. The swelling inside her love tunnel sent her pussy into spasms. Her vaginal muscles fluttered, milking his cock of its seed and spreading a wave of warmth throughout her body. Jules collapsed and she lay, gasping for breath, on the bed's coverlet.

She rolled on to her side, the aftershocks of her orgasm still making her insides quiver.

"Now get out," she ordered.

Jose pulled his still turgid cock from her sopping wet hole and crawled off of the bed. Tossing the condom into the wastebasket, he tucked his slimy cock back into his briefs. As he pulled his cart toward the door and looked proud that he had taken care of this mysterious redhead so thoroughly. She might have been a bit strange, but he knew he'd be watching for any more orders from this room.

Day 2:

Jules dressed carefully, making sure Just before leaving the party, that her bathing suit put her body on full display. The bottom was a tiny triangle of fabric that was so tight that her full pussy lips were clearly evident. The top was equally minimal, being two small triangles that barely covered her nipples. Iris was coming to sunbathe and chat. Jules wondered how far they'd go in between the rehearsals and dinners.