Chapter 12

The rehearsal dinner was a fun evening, considerably more fun than Andrew had anticipated. He was able to relax and bleed off stress he didn’t know he was feeling by the way Suzanne greeted him, and how she greeted Helena. She was quiet and subdued but not silent and all she said to him was that she would like to meet and talk the following week. Suzanne might have been avoiding him for the last two terms but she looked great. She would always be a woman with a full figure, but that figure was tight and sexy. Andrew had to work hard not to stare like a lovelorn fool. They went round the room and he introduced Helena to everyone, although he needed a couple of introductions for some of Julian’s relatives he had not met.

Helena and Andrew were seated with Mark and Lorraine Porter, they of the three boys, now 14, 12 and 11. Mark had been on the stag-do and Lorraine was Mary’s younger sister. The conversation flowed without too much trouble. The exploits of the three boys, parentally acknowledged as ‘holy terrors’, kept them amused. Andrew thought Mark had seemed happy to escape for the day for the stag-do and after hearing some of the tales he could see why. After the meal was over there was a general meet and mingle but other than introducing Helena to Brian and Mary at the beginning of the evening he steered clear of them. When he returned from the toilet Helena was sitting chatting to Suzanne so rather than interrupt he talked to the Julian and his father at the bar. They were in fine form.

“There’s the guilty man. Can you believe my son won’t let me drive his new car?”

Andrew laughed at the, he hoped, faux outrage on Mr. Strong’s face.

“He is worried that you will drive it to the club and will end up taking members for trips to, oh I don’t know, Southampton maybe.”

“Nowhere so close. Vienna at least Andrew, Vienna at least. Good to see you and what a wonderful gift. I could have had one of those when they first came out, could have bought one at any time in the last 20 years for goodness sake, and yet my son has one and I am standing here shaking my head and trying not to be jealous. You are my bête-noire Andrew McLeod.”

He didn’t know what that meant but it didn’t sound good.

“Literally it means pest or bugbear but I mean it as my nemesis, the person who punctures my hubris.”

His son laughed good naturedly.

“He has been doing that for years Dad.”

It was nice to be able to laugh about it all these years later. Julian’s mother turned up for a family moment so Andrew took the chance to escape. But Christine was looking for the chance to talk to him.

“Don’t run off Andrew, how are you? I don’t think I have seen you since Christmas. Have any of the commercials you shot been released yet?”

Time to have some fun.

“Would you like to borrow the tape?”

Her look was a mix of outrage and embarrassment until she saw him smiling. Whacks were duly administered.

“Oh you. I always thought you were a nice boy as well.”

They both laughed.

“The Tuesday after Easter is when the first one is released. The first three should I say. A month later there are two more with the second model. There are still have not decided on the third set yet.”

“That is exciting. But they can’t be shown in the UK?”

“That’s right for two reasons. Mainly because the Whitehouse gang would have a collective stroke if they were broadcast here, far too immoral for our delicate British sensibilities. But also I had it written into my contract. So you are safe from the sight of one of your son’s friends prancing around naked on your screen.”

“Can imagine Andrew. I have some ladies round one evening and there is one of your commercials. Nancy dear, that is Andrew. Remember? You met him at Julian’s wedding. I don’t know whether I would be ostracised or never have a free moment. Are they being shown anywhere else other than France.”

Andrew stopped and thought.

“Do you know, now that you mention it, Mhairi told me they are being shown in eight countries I think. Something like that, but I never thought to ask her where. Eight countries? That would be most of western Europe. I will try and remember and ask her tomorrow.”

“Still not worried about it?”

“No. You heard my comments at Christmas, nothing has changed. All three female models are topless in the commercials, they will barely notice me. The double standard about nudity, remember?”

Christine nodded.

“I just worry it will impact your job prospects in the years ahead.”

“If it does then so be it. Just this week I signed the paperwork to set up my own engineering firm, Julian has 10% by the way, just the same time as I am getting 10% of his software company. If all else fails I will work for myself, or go and work for him. I think that may be at the root of my ‘who gives a damn’ attitude. Paraphrasing Groucho, I wouldn’t want to work for someone who cared if I showed my arse on TV in the mid 80s.”

Christine Strong was a woman Andrew didn’t know that well but there was a touch of the Jean Wylie to her. She might be a respectable Edinburgh matron but that didn’t stop her having a secret dirty streak.

“I don’t know why that reminded me but what exactly happened on Julian’s stag? My husband has the world’s worst poker face, although my son is much better. It was him that told me ‘Andrew organised it’, as if that explained everything, which now that I think about it opens a very wide array of possibilities.”

“I couldn’t possibly scandalise you twice in one evening Christine. You have been married to Julian for more than 30 years, you don’t need me to tell you how to wheedle information from him. Start with ‘Andrew told me all about it, what do you have to say for yourself?’ and see what he blurts out.”

With a kiss on the cheek Andrew left her to her plotting. And went straight to her husband.

“Your wife has been quizzing me about the stag. She will be trying trickery this evening, don’t fall for her feminine wiles.”

Julian nearly spat wine at Andrew as he talked about his mother that way. But Andrew didn’t linger. Two ladies were looking intently at him and it was time to see what the pair of them were up to.

“Suzanne has such interesting Andrew stories.”

He smiled but wasn’t going to fall for her opening gambit.

“Phooey, you’re no fun.”

Andrew tried not to look too smug, and failed. Suzanne just laughed and excused herself to go and check on Leslie, leaving him with Helena.

“You two had a long chat. Are you okay?”

“Completely. She is a lovely person Andrew. We mainly talked about life away from home, university stories that sort of thing. We were very similar if you stop and think about it. I was with you during term and then trying out different men during the breaks and she was the converse. We basically shared you last year, while figuring life out. Both of us seem to have had issues this year, although she gave no details.”

Andrew presumed that was what next week’s conversation was going to be about. Patience Andrew, patience. The dinner was breaking up so after extended goodbyes they headed home. He drove into town so that Helena could see where the City Chambers were. Right on the High Street opposite St. Giles’.

“We are scheduled for 2.00 and according to all the stuff they gave to Julian and Leslie, they keep to a strict timetable. So we should be out here at 2.15. Just try and find somewhere to park close by. I have to be at the Strong’s at 12.30 so I will leave you the car.”

The logistics of the wedding day dealt with they headed back to the flat. To a couple of drunk lesbians.

“A good night then?”

Fran just rolled her eyes. Nikki always was a lightweight so he helped Fran get her to the bedroom, scuttling out the room as Nikki tried to get her clothes off as soon as she got to the bed. He and Helena made love leaning against the headboard, slow lazy fucking with lots of kissing and hugging. Andrew slid them down the bed and Helena rode him hard to get them both over the finish line. Dealing with the condom took only a few seconds and they fell asleep in each other’s arms.

The wedding day was cold and blustery, the sort of day that Scotland is never short of. He left Helena sleeping and swam on his own, enjoying the quiet of the Saturday morning at the pool. When the pool staff started getting ready for the morning swimming lessons, Andrew took that as his cue to head back to the flat. He crawled under the duvet at the foot of the bed, kissing Helena’s feet and up her calves. There was no pretence at sleepiness from her and she lay back her thighs spread, her musk a potent aphrodisiac under the duvet. Andrew didn’t know who groaned louder at his first taste, the slight stretching of her hips to let the contact linger all he needed to know about her arousal.

The duvet was flung back and Helena came down the bed and kissed him soundly. She then pushed him onto his back before once again lowering herself onto his face. Andrew smiled as much as he could with a mouthful of pussy. Holding her cheeks firmly he moved her body, moved his own head and flicked and licked his tongue, hearing the sounds of excitement but knowing that there was something missing. One finger slipped into her almost without notice, but the second finger and the downward pressure had Helena pleading. An occasional tap was not doing it for her but then pressure and little circles on the roof of her pussy stopped the tease and Andrew felt her hips and thighs shake. He withdrew his fingers slowly but let them rest upon her arsehole, rubbing and teasing it. Helena knew what was coming, well other than her, and as Andrew nibbled her clit he started stabbing her rosebud with his finger. More and more Helena craved anal stimulation and she crested spectacularly. The fuck that followed was torment in the extreme. Helena lay back on the bed, legs stretched wide, arms flung wide, her body looking fantastic and all the while Andrew was fucking her she was telling him to come. Totally abusing him, telling him he would never last.

“Look at me Andrew. You did this to me, I am tingling all over, my nipples are aching. Look into my eyes and tell me you don’t want to come right this second.”

When Andrew screwed his eyes tight shut she laughed in triumph. He had only one trick in his bag to deal with her. On occasion Andrew had pressed down on a partner’s mons, normally right above the pubic hair line, trying to find the g-spot from the outside. Not to stimulate it, but to push that part of her vagina down onto his dick inside the woman. It was something that he did not do very often and was not always successful but was perfect for a situation like this. Standing, fucking Helena who was flat on her back on the bed. So daring to open his eyes he went searching. At first Helena was unsure what he was doing but the sudden widening of her eyes and the silent ‘oh’ gave her away.

“Andrew, what are you doing? Oh my God, don’t stop.”

Variations on that theme lasted for another 30 seconds before they both popped in quick succession.

“Okay, I deserved that. But what did you do to me?”

They were back in their usual positions and Helena was looking positively impish.

“You know that pressure and stroking on the g-spot is almost a sure-fire way to an orgasm. Well as far as I can work out I am pushing down on the g-spot from above and outside your body, which doesn’t do anything itself but it increases the contact and friction with my dick, thus setting you off. If you were lying on your back next to me right now and I pushed there, nothing would happen. It is the combination of the position and the way my dick is going back and forth across the spot that does it. But it is only a guess, and sometimes it doesn’t work. But it was all I could do to distract you from your quest to get me to pop quickly.”

A giggling Helena leaned down and kissed him, her bum cradled lovingly in his hands.

“It was very effective. That was mean of me but you are such a visual creature Andrew. The way that you look at me when I am splayed wide on the bed. You might be fucking me with your cock but you are fucking me more with your eyes.”

They lay and kissed for a long time before Helena bounced up smirking at Andrew’s rejuvenated cock but saucily swaying out of the bedroom to head for the toilet. Bloody tease. And it carried on all morning, even more after she finished showering and working on her hair knowing that going to a wedding with the just fucked look is frowned upon in the best etiquette books. But with Helena she was making promises that she was totally prepared to honour later. Helena at her horniest would leave him a broken man. Andrew was showered and in his kilt by the time his lush houseguests surfaced. Fran looked pained round the edges but was capable of conversation whereas Nikki was just a hungover fragile mess. It took two cups of coffee and a lot of toast before she was back to the land of the living.

“I am such a lightweight. I can’t even blame Andrew this time.”

Fran was in the mood to have fun with her.

“Do you remember him helping you through to the bedroom?”

Nikki just looked blank.

“He helped me get you to the bed and you immediately started taking your clothes off. I thought you didn’t like men.”

Nikki looked mortified until she saw Fran’s face.

“Bitch. That’s not nice.”

Fran came over and kissed her gently.

“It’s true. He ran for the door as you got tangled in your tee-shirt.”

Eventually Nikki managed to laugh but as Andrew got ready to leave she was still muttering about not drinking that night. He ran the gauntlet of female inspection before he was allowed to head downstairs to take a cab over to Julian’s parent’s house. Fran and Nikki were still not even showered, they had all afternoon to get ready although Helena was mostly ready. She looked lovely in a cream coloured dress that contrasted nicely with her dark hair. She smirked as she saw him looking at her. Tease.

The next two hours went by in a blur. Julian and Andrew hid in his father’s study while Christine fluttered around doing whatever mothers do on the day of a wedding. This mainly appeared to be annoy her husband who had to dutifully attend to his wife’s whims. They were best out of it. The car arrived to stop any more drama and they were in the city centre with plenty of time to spare. Heriot’s grounds are open on a Saturday and so the driver parked the car there, as it was conveniently two minutes from their destination. They all chatted for 15 minutes until it was time to go to the City Chambers. Unlike when you have a church wedding and the church is basically yours for the day, there was nowhere to wait at the City Chambers. There was the room for the ceremony and one ante-room but with a conveyor belt of weddings every 15 minutes they could not gain access to this until 1.45.

The two cars deposited all eight of them without incident and they only had to wait two minutes until they were in the ante-room. Everyone paired up, Leslie and Julian only had eyes for each other and so Andrew stood to the side with Suzanne. The first time to have a one on one chat in six months. And they managed to say nothing and mostly stand in awkward silence. They knew they needed to talk but it was sad that even these few minutes were so painful. Suzanne looked wonderful. She was wearing a deep red, knee length dress, modest across the bust but tight across her tummy and hips. It was simple and elegant, highlighting her figure but it did not outshine the bride. Leslie looked surprisingly nervous in her white bridal dress. It had very clean lines, almost unadorned, without any kind of train. But every time she looked at Julian you could see her nerves settle and the two of them were in a little bubble of their own.

The ceremony was short, more functional than romantic but sweet nonetheless. The totality of Andrew’s involvement was to pass the two rings to the officiant. Other than that 11 minutes after entering the room, Leslie and Julian were married. As they walked through into the covered colonnade beyond the wedding chamber it hit him rather abruptly, Leslie and Julian were married. Suzanne squeezed his hand.

“I know.”

That was all she said but it spoke volumes; to him, to them, the future.

The parents went in one car down to the hotel while Leslie and Julian went in the other. Helena just pulled up on the Royal Mile, hopped into the back of the Golf and Suzanne and Andrew climbed into the front and the three of them headed down to join the others for the photographs. 90 minutes later it was finally over. There were several wonderful moments but also a lot of hanging around. His best memory? Just the three of them, Leslie flanked by him and Julian, with the pictures becoming ever more relaxed and funny. This day was indirectly a result of everything that the three of them had done. Helena stayed in the background and helped the photographer’s assistant a couple of times. But eventually Andrew could escape for a few hours.