Chapter 5

I was awakened, about 9:00 on Sunday morning, by a buzz from my cell phone. I rolled over and picked it up, and discovered I had a text from Ainsley.

You awake?

I texted her back.

I am, but you shouldn’t be. Don’t you have a husband you should be with right now?

She sent back a laughing face.

He’s still asleep. I think I wore him out last night.

I texted her back a grinning face.

Then she got down to the real reason she was texting me the morning after her wedding.

You still owe me the dirt on who Ally is and why you were with her last night. She’s wonderful, BTW. Hang on to her if you can. But that’s not what I want to say.

I got two pictures this morning that I want to share with you. They prove what I already know about who my friends are. The first shows a guy who is one of the best friends I will ever have. I love him almost as much as I love my new husband. He’s with a gorgeous girl he hasn’t known very long, and he seems to be pretty damn happy. He also looks classy, because he is classy.

She forwarded me a picture of Ally and I on the dancefloor. We were smiling at the camera. I had to admit we looked good together.

The second picture shows someone who I thought was a friend. I asked her to be a bridesmaid at my wedding, because the guy I love loved her. Then she dissed the guy I love and broke his heart. I can’t forgive her for that. But she made it worse by how she behaved at my wedding. No class. None. Period. She and I are through.

This next pic is NSFW, BTW.

Then the picture arrived. It was Angie. She was on her knees, in her bridesmaid’s dress, in the men’s bathroom at the wedding reception. There were urinals visible behind her. Her dress was ripped open in front, and her tits were hanging out, and one of her hands was busy between her legs. She had a guy’s cock in her mouth. And there were two more guys waiting beside her, with their zippers open, and their dicks in their hands. You couldn’t see any of the guy’s heads, and I was glad of that. I didn’t think that I wanted to know.

Ally heard my intake of breath, and sat up to see what I was looking at. I passed her the phone, and she scrolled back and read the texts from Ainsley. Then she gave the phone back.

“Ok, so my boyfriend lost me to you in a bet. That’s pretty low. And maybe it makes me a whore. But I’ve never sucked off a line of guys in a bathroom at a wedding. Or anywhere else.”

I leaned over and kissed her.

“You’re not a whore. Your boyfriend is an ass. But you’re not a whore. Trust me.”

“You mean my ex-boyfriend,” she corrected me.

My heart did flipflops.

“Does that mean you’re accepting applications?”

She grinned at me.

“I might be. Do you want an interview?”

“I’d like that. When can you fit me in?”

“I think I can squeeze you in now,” she said, lying back and spreading her legs.

And she did squeeze me in. And it was as good as it had been last night. It was so good, in fact, that we had to shower afterwards, together, to wash all the stickiness out of her and off of both of us.

We spent most of the day Sunday naked and in bed. We got up once in a while for food or to go pee, and sometimes we dozed off in each other’s arms, but mostly we had sex.

Actually, that’s not correct. We didn’t have sex. We made love. She sucked me off, swallowing my load and licking her lips, and I ate her to more orgasms than I could count, and she rode me until I filled her tight little pussy with come, again. Then she sucked me clean, while I licked my come out of her, like I had last night. After she had me hard again, she gave me a little grin.

“There’s one spot you haven’t come yet,” she said.

I was a bit slow I guess. Blame it on the euphoria. I just looked at her, blankly.

“Phil promised that the winner of the bet would get all my holes, remember? Mouth, pussy, and ass? You haven’t fucked me up the ass yet.”

Then she stood up and grabbed a bottle of lube from her bag, and handed it to me, and got onto the bed on her knees, with her ass up and her head down. She turned her head to the side so she could look back at me.

“Fuck my ass, Rob. Please?”

So who can argue with that? I opened the lube and squirted some on her rosebud, and lubed up my index finger as well. I slowly slid my finger in, feeling how hot and tight she was, then greased it up a bit more and pumped it in and out. Then I lubed up my cock, and slowly eased it inside her, giving her lots of time to get used to the intrusion. Once it felt like she was ready, I started to pump in and out, and I put the hand that hadn’t been in her ass between us so I could rub her clit with my thumb.

She came almost immediately, screaming so loudly that I was sure the neighbours were going to call the police. I kept going, and got her off one more time before I exploded into her bowels and collapsed on top of her.

It was only then that I noticed that she was crying.

“Oh, Ally, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I told her, as I kissed her tear-stained cheek.

She sobbed for a couple more minutes.

“You didn’t hurt me, you big goof. At least not much. It hurt a bit at the start - you’re bigger than any other guy I’ve ever had back there - but you were so slow and gentle that it was fine. And when you started to rub my clit ... fuck. That was awesome. I’m not crying because you hurt me. I’m crying because I’ve never been with someone like you.”

Then she dissolved into sobs. I held her for a minute, then decided a shower was in order, before we made a mess. I scooped her up in my arms and carried her to the bathroom, setting her down on the toilet while I got the water running, then helping her under the warm spray. I soaped her up, and rinsed her off, and then she picked up the soap and started on me.

“Look, Rob, sex with Phil ... it’s never been great. Mostly because it’s all about him. I suck his cock to get him hard. Sometimes he fucks my face and comes in my mouth. Usually once he’s hard he rolls a condom on, jams his cock up my cunt, and thrusts for a few minutes until he comes. Then he falls asleep. I never come while he’s fucking me. He’s licked my pussy maybe half a dozen times in all the months we’ve been together, and only just after I have a bath or shower. And if I’d ever let him come in my cunt, and suggested that he lick me clean afterwards, I think the idea alone would make him vomit. He won’t even kiss me after I give him a BJ unless I brush my teeth first.

“And anal ... anal with Phil is bad. He’s smaller than you, and I guess that’s something to be thankful for. But he just puts the condom on and pushes it in. It hurts. Every time. And, frankly, I think that the more it hurts me the more it turns him on.

“You didn’t do that. You were slow and gentle ... and you wanted me to come. I didn’t know I could come while I was getting my ass fucked. But you always want me to come. In fact, you usually make me come before you even start to think about your own pleasure. You’ve made me come more times in less than 24 hours than Phil has in almost two years. And I just can’t quite believe how amazing this is.”

I had to ask.

“So, if anal has always been so painful, why did you ask me to do it to you? I wouldn’t have asked, you know. I was totally satisfied by what we’d been doing.”

“I know you wouldn’t have. And maybe that’s why I offered. I don’t know. Maybe I wanted to give you the whole package Phil had promised you guys that I’d give. Or maybe I wanted to see if you did anal like you did everything else. I’m not sure. It was kind of an impulse, I guess.”