I guess I should have expected that it wouldn't go well. I mean who was I kidding? Even I couldn't believe the way that things turned out. But God damn it this was supposed to be a wedding. It should have been a happy and somber occasion, not a fucking bar brawl. Okay, I can sense your confusion, so let me back up just a bit.
My name is Dalton Jones. I'm reasonably good looking, not heart-stopping but I get the job done. I'm tall and well built, and at 27 years old, I've got a great job and the world on a string.
For the past 5 years I've been dating a woman named Heather Benson. Heather is, I must admit, really pretty. She's slim, with small, but pert breasts, long legs and a tight little ass. She has blond hair, incredible green/grey eyes and pouting lips that just beg to be kissed.
I met Heather at my graduation ceremony from college. She was my best friend's girlfriend's best friend. Steve's girl Kelly, had come to our graduation, to see Steve graduate. She had dragged Heather along, and when we met, I was smitten. We started dating and she quickly assumed control in the relationship. The woman had me so busy running and getting things for her and taking her to places that I had no interest in, that if I had just once stopped to look at us from the outside, I'd have seem how poisonous she was. Nature has a way sometimes of making the most lethal flowers, the most beautiful.
Almost from the start, everyone concerned knew that we'd eventually get married. We looked great together, we enjoyed the time we spent together or so I thought, and we even got along with each other's families. Our sex life was great, and Heather always told me when we'd been apart for awhile that I was simply the best lover she'd ever had. We'd both been around the block a few times before getting together, and neither of us held it against the other since this wasn't medieval times and it was expected now, that both parties would come into a relationship with some experience.
Even so, a lot of people were wondering, including Heather's mom and dad, what was taking us so long to get hitched and start producing offspring, aka grand-brats. It wasn't me, it was Heather. She wanted to be sure that we'd be financially and emotionally secure before we tied that final knot. She said that she'd been in a couple of close relationships that had either fizzled, or ended in disaster. She wanted to be sure. And I respected that, since I had no other choice.
One of the peculiar things about our relationship was that it was extremely off and on. Heather would sometimes get angry and break up with me for what seemed like the most trivial reasons. We'd be apart for a week or sometimes two and then she'd come back to me. She'd be very apologetic and tell me how much she missed me, and that she'd never do it again.
So back in early February, I got a call from Heather's mom. She'd had some new furniture delivered and with Heather's Dad out of town on business, I was the man of the house. The furniture guys could only deliver the furniture, they weren't allowed for some reason to arrange it in the house. I really believed that it was just a scam to get more money, but whatever. I loved Heather's parents as if they were my own, so spending an hour or so helping her mom move a couple of tables, a couch and an entertainment center around couldn't be that bad.
It was far worse than I thought. Except for the couch, everything had to be assembled. Even worse was the news that she'd bought a chandelier that wouldn't arrive for another 10 days and would not only have to be hung, but wired in as well.
"Amy will have to help you Dalton. I'm late already for a meeting at my club. Help yourself to anything you want. Thanks again," said Heather's Mom on her way out. She'd taken enough time to show me where she wanted everything, and then hit the bricks.
I'd known Amy since Heather and I first met. Amy was Heather's chunky little sister. I'd watched her grow up and go through that gawky acne faced stage. Amy like most younger siblings had lived her life wearing Heather's old clothes, riding Heather's old bikes and playing with Heather's old toys. She was always screaming about how much she hated Heather's hand me downs.
She'd gone away last September to a college out of state, but had gotten homesick and transferred back in January and was trying to catch up in her studies. I'd always felt sorry for Amy, and treated her like she was my kid sister too. It just seemed like that girl worked twice as hard as Heather did and got only half the results. Whereas Heather had blond hair, Amy's was dark. Heather was tall and slim, Amy was shorter and maybe not chunky any more but definitely more voluptuous. She had huge glasses and zits all over her face. Heather was a girly-girl, Amy was the kind of girl who'd sit down and play a video game with you, and probably beat you.
"Hey Squirt, get your ass down here. We've got work to do," I shouted up the stairs, as I started to open the box containing the first end table.
"Stop yelling at me. You're not my brother in law yet," I heard her scream from somewhere upstairs.
A few minutes later, she snuck up from behind and launched herself at me the way she always did. Of course not having seen her in a while I was unprepared for Amy's new look. She'd gotten just slightly taller, and slightly thinner. She still wasn't as slim as Heather, but no one would ever call her chunky again. The one thing that hadn't gotten any smaller were her boobs, they might even be bigger. And her nipples were threatening to drill through the T-shirt she had on. Heather's boobs were not anywhere near the same class, but it didn't really matter to me, though I couldn't help staring at them. When she bent over to look at the boxes and said, "This is going to take us all day," she smiled.
The thing that scared me was the way she bent over. Her legs remained straight and she bent from the waist causing her perfectly round ass to peek out from those tight shorts. I nearly passed out from the blood loss, as all of the blood left one head and went into the other.
"Whuh?" I managed to mutter as I stood behind the couch hoping to avoid the embarrassing swelling in my pants. I had to get it together. Amy was my girlfriend's little sister. She was the most off limits woman in the world, outside of Heather's mom. Holy shit, I'd called her a woman. When had she turned from my little squirt, to someone I wanted to give a little squirt?
Her face had cleared up and her glasses were gone. How the hell had all of that happened without me noticing it?
"I just said that this is probably going to take a while for us to put all of this shit together and arrange it," she smiled. "You act like you've never seen me before. I'm Amy, Heather's baby sister. You've watched me grow up," she said. She said it like she was talking to someone who was mentally challenged, but I got the impression that she liked my reaction to her.
For the next three hours we worked together assembling and arranging the furniture. Amy seemed to take every opportunity she could to rub herself against me or touch me. If she handed me a hammer, she had to place it into my hand with a lot of contact between my hand and hers. And there was a lot of smiling to go with the contact.
"Valentine's day is only about 10 days away. What are you getting Heather?" she asked.
"Probably one of those Pandora charm bracelets, they keep advertising on TV," I said.
"Wow, you have good taste," she smirked. "They're pretty expensive. It's a shame to waste something so nice on my idiot sister. You should probably give something that nice to someone who really loves you."
I was shocked. My jaw just dropped open and I couldn't figure out what to say.
"Don't look so shocked," she said. "I've watched the 2 of you since I was 15. Why aren't you married yet?" Before I could answer she started up again. "I'll tell you why. It's because my idiot sister isn't ready to settle down yet. She's so secure in the fact that you love her unquestionably, and will take whatever she dishes out to you, that she doesn't feel like she has to rush things. She probably does intend to marry you at some stage, but only when she needs to for security or because she's done fucking around on you."
All of a sudden I couldn't stand up any more. I just fell over, wondering what had turned my little squirt into this evil bitch who had just crushed me. She stood there as if she'd just told me that Heather had washed her clothes. There was no sign on her face that she had just practically tore my heart out.
"You didn't know did you," she said suddenly concerned. "You really didn't know. That bitch! She always told me that you knew. That's why I never told you before now. I'm really sorry Dalton." She crossed the room and nestled my head against one of those spectacular breasts.
"Dalton, I'm really sorry. I started this, but in a way it's good that you find out before you make a terrible mistake and ruin your life."
"I don't believe you. This is some kind of joke." I snapped. "Amy, this probably doesn't matter to you, but I loved you like you were my own little sister. Maybe I teased you a little bit. But it was all in fun. I've never done anything cruel to you, so I just can't imagine why you'd say something like that to me. If you don't like me or don't think I'm good enough for your sister, just say so. But there's no need to try and just hurt me, by lying."
.... There is more of this story ...