[This is a spin-off of "Dawn and Ken and Maria and David." It begins at the reception after the marriage of Maria and Dawn to Ken and David. Reading the other story is encouraged, but not necessary.]
Dr. Robert Van Clef felt out of place here. The crowd was mainly twenty and thirty-something's and the music was not that of his generation. He might have left right after the ceremony, but he had invested almost an hour driving out to this country mansion. Of course he was happy for Dawn, a younger colleague from the hospital, but there were many things about the wedding besides the location of the reception that puzzled him. First was the man Dawn had chosen to marry, and so suddenly. Until maybe a year ago the young doctor had been dating several of his (and her) colleagues from the hospital, men several years older than she. David was quite good looking and a manager in some kind of Internet company, but quite young. Dawn was an attractive woman, but Robert was also uncomfortable with David's almost puppy-dog attachment to his new wife, a devotion Dawn seemed to accept as her due. Then too, if he was not mistaken - and as a gynecologist it was Robert's job NOT to be mistaken about these things - Dawn was pregnant, about three months on, he guessed. How long had she know this boy, er young man?
Equally odd, if not more so, was the other pair in the double wedding. The other bride, a pretty young Latina, apparently had - until when? -- been David's housekeeper. And odder still, the other groom, Ken, had been, for a short time, Dawn's live-in boyfriend. Ken, some kind of construction worker, Robert understood, towered over the petite brown woman, but he displayed, if that was possible, an even more subservient infatuation with his new bride who, like Dawn, was several months along with making a baby. Neither bride seemed in the least embarrassed about her state. They had both chosen very short gowns with an Empire tie that drew every man's attention to their swelling breasts and unmistakable bulges.
Finally, the guest list struck Robert as odd, drawn up, so it appeared, to bring together the greatest number of Dawn's, David's, and Ken's male friends with a few of Dawn's girlfriends and an uncounted number of Maria's sisters, aunts, and girl cousins flown in from Central America. It was cliché that people hook up at wedding receptions, but this function seemed to be designed with that in mind. And the women definitely seemed to be dressed for the prowl. The décolletage was astounding, hemlines must average six inches above the knee, approximately the height of the strap stilettos, putting acres of eye-popping breast and inner thigh on display.
That thought brought Robert to the final element of his discomfort. He suspected he, too, was one of the men being pursued. That in itself might not be so bad. He could relish an affair with one of Dawn's svelte hottie friends. but the women Robert had his eye on, cool blondes for the most part, had David's young friends in their sights. Instead, Robert kept being thrown into the company of Marta, Maria's mother. Dawn had told him about Marta, suggesting she's be eager for a tumble, but Robert ignored her silly attempts at matchmaking. Marta was not the kind of woman Robert was hoping to meet. Marta was dark, loud, unsophisticated, and rather too - large. Not that she wasn't sexy in a crude way: large still firm breasts that had nursed a brood of children, wide hips that had made the nights of two deceased husbands and (Dawn had hinted) many other men, quite happy, and a waist that was surprisingly small for a woman who had been making babies since she was thirteen.
Nevertheless, Robert had no intention of spending time with Marta that afternoon. Marta, on the other hand, had other ideas and she was remarkably effective in getting her way. Every time Robert turned around Marta was there with a fresh drink and another button of her blouse, drawn too tight across her enormous jugs, unfastened. As the afternoon wore on, most of the women were successfully paired up, some a bit disheveled accompanied by with happy but dazed-looking men.
This left Robert to Marta who was starting to look better as Robert consumed more of the spicy punch. Women her age and size didn't usually wear skirts that short or heels that high, but on her they showed those extra pounds were packed into the right places. He found himself wondering if she was wearing panties. Somehow they were holding hands and she was gigging and telling him sexy stories that Robert had trouble following as his eyes were drawn again and again to his companion's luscious brown breasts.
"Time for the movie," Maria called out. The what? Robert had never heard of showing a movie at a wedding reception. They hadn't even cut the cake had they? Was there a cake? Robert dimly realized Marta was leading him into a different wing of the mansion. The other men looked as confused as he, but they likewise allowed the giggling women to herd them gently to sofas and loveseats pointed at a large screen.
"Comfy Bobby?" Marta asked. No one had called him anything but "Robert" or "Dr. Van Clef" in years. "Bobby" made him feel like a boy, a little boy very comfortably snuggled against Marta's soft warm woman flesh, her perfume around him like a cloud. He tried to pay attention to the film, but her hand had slithered between his legs and made concentration difficult. At first it looked like a historical documentary' then it turned into an R or maybe X-rated tale of square-jawed soldiers and curvy dark women and orgies. Something about the flickering projection made it impossible either to look away or to think critically about the plot.
"Pretty sexy, eh?" Marta whispered.
"Huh?" Robert felt sluggish, not thinking too clearly.
"I mean, seeing those pretty, busty women using sex to control powerful men must make you really horny, no?"
Yes, he supposed it was true. Robert was certainly feeing odd. His heart was pounding and he was breathing quickly, though shallowly. But could he come right out and admit it, admit that watching a soft-core porn film with a sexy woman pressed up against him had made him horny? He felt at a disadvantage.
"Sure you are, Bobby. I can tell." She squeezed his prick gently. "Let me help you." Robert tried to protest, but Marta was already unzipping his pants. "I'll bet that feels a lot better." Her warm, soft hand on his exposed prick took Robert's words away. "Oh, Bobby! You're really hard! Are you horny for me, Bobby?" she cooed. "Do you like me playing with your nice hard prick, Bobby?"
Robert grunted in ecstasy as his clever partner expertly stroked his manhood, keeping him excited but being careful not to grant him release. She had plans for this erection and the subsequent orgasm.
If he could have looked around, Robert would have been shocked at the unfolding scene. The other women had been as busy as Marta and the punch and flickering light of the film had been equally effective in making their companions horny and malleable. A few men had already been well fucked and were lolling in a sated daze or were nursing contentedly as whispered, seductive words flowed into their receptive brains. A few were laid back with glazed eyes as a woman on board rode him to orgasm. One was struggling as two laughing women held him and a third held something to his lips until his struggles ceased and she guided his prick into her pussy. But Robert saw nothing from the bottom of the deep pit of lust, the perfect snare Marta had laid for him.
"Would you like to suck my titties, Bobby. They're big and soft." Robert thought fleetingly at how strange, how wrong all this was to be on a couch with a woman he hardly knew letting her play with his cock and inviting him to suckle her breasts. But the thought slipped away as Marta placed a nipple - not at all soft as she had said - and Robert instinctively began to nurse. Marta sighed with contentment as she allowed her mamaries to work their age-old magic on the helpless man. "Oh, yes, Bobby, suck me good. You love to nurse at my breast."
Robert floated for several minutes.
"Oh, look at that!" Marta exclaimed softly, gently removing her breast from Robert's hungry mouth. Robert opened his eyes, hardly knowing where he was, trying to look where his sexy companion pointed. "Oh, she must really enjoy that!"
Robert was confused. On the screen, the Emperor was on a couch with the pagan queen. Her breasts were bared as Marta's were and the semi-conscious man appeared to have been kissing and sucking them. Now, however, the queen was guiding his mouth and lips down her tummy toward her pubic mound. The surprise almost jarred Robert from his horny trance. The smiling queen opened her legs and her royal captive dropped to his knees and buried his face in her bush. His ex nad several girlfriends had wanted that but real men didn't do that for women, did they? It did look sort of sexy.
"She must be really wet, Bobby. Women get nice and juicy when a man sucks our titties," Marta giggled. "I do. Wanna feel me?"
Robert let her guide his hand between her legs. It was warm swamp! He had fumbled around with plenty of snatches, but he'd never felt anything like this. "Uuuu, Bobby. That feels good. You can play with my pussy if you want." Robert wasn't sure if he had a choice. One of Marta's hands grasped his firmly and was rubbing herself with it vigorously. Her other hand took the back of his head and jammed him mouth once more forcefully onto her bosom. "Oh, yeah! Bobby! Suck me, uhhhh. Yes! Feel that pussy, Bobby. Oh, God ... Sucky, SUCKY, SUCKYYYY... ! Oh, fuck it! I'm gonna ... gonna ... AHiiiiiiiii!?"
.... There is more of this story ...