Chapter 3

After Vows:

The officiant’s cream suit popped in the fading sunset, her grin huge. “You’re now husband and wife!” she shouted, voice booming over the vineyard. “Kiss her, Jim!” The rose arch framed them, fairy lights blinking, sapphire ribbons swaying. Jim’s navy suit was all wrinkled, his tie crooked, sweat dripping down his neck. Jessica was a total babe, her ivory dress hugging her curves and boobs spilling out.

Jim dove in, and Jessica kissed him back, lips wet and hungry, her tongue teasing his, making his knees shake. Her flowery perfume hit him hard, her chest pressed against him, so strongly he could barely think. The crowd went nuts, screaming and clapping, Jessica’s work friends hooting, her girls snapping pics.

The quartet kicked into a peppy song, and the officiant waved them to a quiet spot by the arch. Jessica strutted over, her dress swishing, ass swaying like she knew every eye was on it. Jim trailed, palms sweaty, voice shaky but so damn lovey, totally gone for her on their wedding day. “Jess, my vows ... You liked ‘em?” he asked, eyes big, begging for her to say yes, a goofy grin on his face.

Jessica spun, her smirk wicked, eyes pinning him like a laser. “Perfect, babe,” she purred, voice all silky, stepping so close her hips brushed his. She tugged his tie, fixing it with a flirty smirk, Jim’s vow about that café kiss—him basically worshipping her fuck-up—proving he’s the guy she needed. “You killed it, babe.”

Jim’s grin got huge, her words lighting him up, his dick twitching just from her voice. “I poured my heart out to make you happy,” he said, voice all soft, staring at her like she was a goddess. Her face, those curves, that killer smirk—damn, he was hard. “You were so sexy up there,” he mumbled, laughing nervously.

Jessica giggled, all bubbly, her eyes popping. “Never thought you’d talk about our first kiss,” she said, tossing it out all chill since he blabbed it to everyone. Her brain zipped back— I was sucking some random dude’s cock, like, thirty minutes before Jim’s lips and tongue hit mine.

She’d spilled to a friend once as a secret, “I could still feel the guy’s balls taste when I kissed him,” but which friend? Her eyes flicked to her bridesmaids—Was it one of them? If that girl heard Jim call it his best kiss, she’d lose it, so damn hilarious. Her heart pounded, pussy wet, half scared, half horny as hell from the secret.

Jim cocked his head, a curious grin. “Why?” he asked, all playful, nudging her to spill, like he always tried. He’d never brought it up and never pushed.

Jessica’s smirk tightened. “No reason,” she said, all smooth, no way she’d admit—Yeah, I was choking on dick right before your “best kiss ever”.

Her hand slid down his arm, nails grazing, owning him. He knows just enough and still begs for me, she thought, her pussy wet, loving how he groveled, her power making her hot as hell. “C’mon, let’s walk—time for them to throw rice on our heads.” They hit the aisle, Jessica’s dress flowing, her strut all boss, Jim following like her puppy. Rice rained down, then guests shuffled into a line, ready to hug it out.

The greeting line kicked off and kept coming, hugs and “Congrats!” piling on. Then, last in line, Brian rolled up—six-foot-two, muscles bulging in a tight black shirt, dark hair messy, grin all cocky. Nobody was sure if he crashed early or just hit the congrats line, but damn, he was fine.

“Hey, Jim, congrats, man!” Brian said, clapping Jim’s shoulder, his voice deep, chill. Jessica’s eyes snapped to him—Who’s this tall hottie?—her pussy buzzing, not knowing him but wanting to. Brian’s cologne hit her, all spicy and rough. Before she could speak, Jim piped up, all eager, “Jess, this is Brian, our new neighbor in 10B! Dude saved our window the other day, total lifesaver.”

Jessica’s lips curled, her green eyes locking on Brian’s, not blinking, all flirty and bold from the jump. “Oh, so you’re the window hero,” she purred, voice silky, stepping closer. “Thanks for that, Brian. Pleasure to finally meet you.” Her stare screamed fuck, you’re hot.

Brian held her gaze, eyes dark and hungry, like he was peeling off her dress. His hand slid to her waist, resting there, bold but smooth, his touch sending a jolt through her. “Pleasure’s mine,” he said, voice low, intimate. “That dress is straight-up dangerous, Jessica.” His grin was polite but dripping with I want you, his fingers lingering, making her pussy wet.

Jim caught it—their eyes, Brian’s hand, the vibe too damn hot. His gut twisted, his grin wobbling, but it’s his wedding—Not gonna be that guy, not today. He chuckled, shaky, trying to play it cool.

Brian pulled back, hand slipping off, eyes still on Jessica. “Best to both of you,” he said, all smooth, then walked off. Jessica’s smirk stayed, her body buzzing. Fuck, that’s a real man.

Brian Doesn’t Know Alice is Jim’s Mom:

The congrats line faded, and Jessica’s crew—work pals and bridesmaids, like seventy percent of the crowd—swarmed the tent, their heels clicking, dresses tight, yelling, “Time to get fucked up!” The quartet cranked a bass-heavy jam, and the dance floor turned into a sweaty mess, bodies grinding, hips popping to the beat.

By seven, the party was a straight-up banger, guests loosening up, dances dirtier, couples sneaking off to dark corners. The DJ took over, dropping a sexy beat, and the floor packed tighter, sweat and lust mixing like a drug.

“Yo, Jim, cheers, man! Sick fucking party!” Brian grinned, pure cocky. Jim clinked his beer, chuckling, voice wobbly. “Yeah, dude, it’s crazy,” he said, still high off Jessica’s curves ruling the dance floor. Brian leaned in, voice low, nodding at a table. “Check that chick—light green dress, auburn hair, almost screaming “fuck me”. Solo, right?”

Jim’s gut tanked, beer nearly slipping. That’s Mom—Alice. She sat alone, light green dress hugging her curves, silicone-packed boobs begging to bust out, auburn curls bouncing as she sipped her drink, looking mid-thirties, not forty-two. Her teasing smirk nailed Brian, and Jim’s brain stalled—He’s panting for my mom? “Uh ... yeah, single,” Jim mumbled, not spilling that it was his mom who had been divorced for the last 10 months, heart pounding hard.

Brian smirked, eyes locked on Alice as she crossed her legs, dress riding up, thighs flashing. “She has some MILF vibe, but sexy as fuck. Those tits—fake, but I’d wreck that.” Jim’s face burned. Don’t fucking say that shit, he thought. “She’s ... forty-two,” he stammered instead, praying it’d kill Brian’s vibe. No dice. Brian laughed, crude. “Forty-two? Still banging. What’s her deal? Stripper or some shit?”

Jim squirmed. Tell him she’s my mom, or keep going? His beta side buckled, Brian banging Mom? I’d puke. “She’s ... a gynecologist,” he stammered, gut churning. Brian’s grin turned sleazy. “No shit? Bet her checkups are a fuckfest. How much for a visit, huh?” His laugh was pure filth, and Jim’s cheeks burned. That’s so fucking wrong. But he forced a chuckle, “Yeah ... uh, she’s legit.”

Alice glanced over, adjusting her dress, silicone-packed breasts straining, auburn curls bouncing, her wink hitting Brian like a spark. Brian leaned closer, “Nice, man. I’m gonna hit that. Younger girls here all got dudes. Got a name for her?” Jim’s throat locked. Why’m I helping? Mom with Brian? I’d die. “Alice,” he choked, voice barely there. “Any tips, bro? How do I get her going?”.

“She ... drinks vodka stuff, mojitos mostly.” Brian nodded, smirking. “Mojitos? Sweet!”

Jim’s hands shook. She’s my fucking mom! His brain screamed—Cut it off or cave?—but his beta vibe won, as always. Why’s my dick hard at this shit? “Uh ... don’t talk about her surgeries,” he muttered, face hotter. “Silicone, nose—she hates it.” Brian snorted, “Huge tits, dude, can’t miss ‘em. She always is this flirty?” Alice stood, tossing her hair, her glance at Brian pure heat. Jim’s gut flipped. She’s egging him on. “Yeah ... I don’t know, maybe?,” he said, hating every word—I’m selling out Mom.

“Has she been with anyone tonight?” Brian asked, eyes narrowing. Jim shook his head, “Um, no ... just chilling, dancing, I guess.” I hate myself.

Brian chugged his beer, grinning like a shark. “Chilling, open, dope. I’m grabbing her a mojito. She into dumb jokes or what?” Jim’s hands trembled. “Yeah ... silly jokes, I think, but don’t creep on her looks,” he said, gut yelling Stop helping! Alice’s green dress shimmered, her teasing glance burning. Brian clapped Jim’s shoulder. “Jokes, mojito, no tit talk—perfect. You’re a fucking champ, man.” He turned, smirking, “Gimme a sec, gotta work.”

Jim’s mouth opened. She’s my mom! “Yo, you’re getting a drink for my—” he blurted, but the DJ’s bass drowned it, Brian already striding off, giving Jim two cocky back-pats, deaf to the truth. Jim stood, beer dripping, breathing hard, face a furnace. Did the right thing, I guess, he thought, lying to himself—Couldn’t stop him anyway. Or could I?

Brian flirts with Jim’s Mom:

Mojito in hand, Brian slid up next to Alice, close enough to catch her perfume, sweet and spicy. “Heard you’re a mojito woman,” he said, voice low and smooth, setting the drink in front of her. Alice’s green eyes flicked up, sharp and playful, lips curling into a smirk. “Oh, you heard that, huh? Who’s snitching on me?” Her tone was all tease, confident, like she was ready to play his game. She took the glass, her fingers brushing his, slow and deliberate, sending a jolt up his arm. Fuck, she’s already in, Brian thought, his grin widening.

“Just a guy who knows what you like,” Brian said, sipping his beer, eyes tracing her dress. Those tits are fucking unreal. “So, mojito’s your vibe? Hope I nailed it.” Alice laughed, low and throaty, tossing her auburn curls. “I’m picky, but ... not bad.” She sipped, lips wrapping the straw, eyes locked on his, teasing as hell. “You get a point for effort ... Brian, right?” She tilted her head, smirking, like she’d caught him checking her out. She’s sharp, he thought, dick stirring.