I’m not a big fan of weddings, probably because my own failed so miserably, but it’s such a needless expense. You would be hard pressed to find a couple who, 3-5 years post nuptial, couldn’t use the money in a better way. But that being said, the custom will never change and girls from 6 to 60 dream of the day they walk down the aisle with Prince Charming waiting at the foot of the altar with all their family and friends as witnesses.

I married my High School sweetheart, a relationship, we thought, born in heaven and predestined by God, itself. We dated all four years of High School, saved our technical virginity’s for after senior prom, even after spending countless nights together on trips, vacations, and sneak-away escapades. We discovered oral and digital ways to satisfy our sexual cravings early on and planned on our post-prom official deflowering from the moment we knew that we were the “it” couple. Neither she or I ever dated or knew other partners. We were perfect.

Then came the realities of marriage, the expenses, the working, the not being able to come and go as we pleased together. The ski and summer weekends became financially prohibitive and the necessities of life tore holes in our collective purse, so little was left for “us” fun. 18 months to the day after our wedding I came home to find all of her stuff gone and a note:

“I’m going home to live with my parents. I don’t want to be married anymore. Be assured, there is NO ONE ELSE.We can go back to dating if you want, but the rat race of life has beaten me down. I’ll still give you my paychecks, less my allowance, for a few months, until you adjust your expenses and learn to live alone. I don’t want to hurt you, I mean you no ill will, I still love you, but hate being married with responsibilities. I feel dumb and shallow saying that, but I find no other way.”

Whenever I think I’m “falling” for someone, I pull this out weather-beaten ragged note in my wallet, written in her hand, and read it. There’s a cure-all for falling in love!

Needless to say, I never saw or spoke to her again. We had been 500 miles away from “home” with me working full time and going to college. I quit school and let the firm I worked for transfer me all the way out to Omaha, Nebraska. They paid for me to finish school at night. I had been using my mechanical drawing skills I learned from my Dad and his family business, along with College-Plus courses I took in my senior year of High School, to design farm implements and tools. It doesn’t sound like much, but it was an area where development had slowed over the years until farming got high tech and there was a long catch-up period. I understood a lot from my background working with my Dad and his family’s farm. I was doing architectural design work beyond my schooling. I didn’t have an engineering degree, but could work with any of the egghead studs in our labs and offices.

With my parents passed away, and no interest in Elizabeth, my wife, I had no reason to go “home”. My Dads brothers ran the family business into bankruptcy, and Omaha offered me a career and a chance to turn my life around. I took full advantage of it and found that girls, women, both thought I was good looking and sexy. There are men today who don’t like to work, apply themselves, or care about a “living”. They want to collect a paycheck, as if that is their job. Show up, do as you are told, get paid and go home, living paycheck to paycheck. One particular woman who worked where I did, Candace Marie, found me very attractive and personable and went out of her way to tell me one day over lunch in our cafeteria.

“I’ve flirted and hinted around with you for long enough, aren’t you ever going to ask me out on a date?” She said after plopping her lunch bag down beside me.

“Once bitten, twice shy.” Was my only response.

“I have mirrors in my house and know that I’m an attractive woman, haven’t you once looked at me and thought about ANYTHING??” She said exasperated.

“Of course, I admire you. The way you look, and I do notice the way you make eyes at me. Technically, I’m still married, although we’ve had no contact in a couple years. We may have had an annulment for all I know, but...”

“I’m just looking for a date, a chance to know you better. Nothing more, have a little fun, ... you know?” She said with a knowing smile.

That started a 17-year relationship that saw us live together, split expenses down the middle and have a good time about life. We each said “I love you” a thousand times, but never truly proclaimed our love and devotion to each other. Sounds weird, but when the day came, she said she was leaving, I accepted it without a regret. She simply said, “it was time”. She wanted nothing from the relationship but her car and her clothes, and personal stuff. She was not mad, she was not regretful, she was not wanting for more (marriage). She gave her notice at work and left Omaha. She moved to Tucson and I sent her birthday cards and a few letters about friends and the like, but after 2 years mail came back, “Moved, left no address”.

My point in all of this preamble to my story is, I was not interested in finding love, or finding a relationship. I trusted no woman with my feelings. I knew where to go to meet a partner for the night, if I felt the need, a friend with benefits. The women I found usually wanted the same thing as me, some intimate company and “see ya later”.

So, ... I became very close with my neighbors in my little gated community I settled in. We were 90 homes in the 200-300K range in Florida, mostly retired or well off enough not to have to work. No young “at home” children for any of us, and we lived privately within our cliques. A normal week was a couple parties, and usually a couple dinner invites we all shared. I hung with 3 couples along with a couple divorced women, and we made a group of 9 who spent many hours together. Unless something was hidden from me, there was no hanky-panky between any of us. We ranged between 56 and 70 and that sexual tension that can exist, did not. I think we all lived by the old adage, “Don’t shit where you eat.”

My closest friends Del and Marie had a 30-year-old son, who visited quite a bit with his fiancé, and they fit nicely with our bunch, but they knew their place. They made sure they didn’t horn in on our group of 9 forays. Nine was enough for any party, and certainly the max if you wanted to go out, 10 maybe, 11 was out.

As the wedding approached for Marie’s son (from a 1st marriage) it became well known we would all be invited. It was going to be a fancy affair at a nationally known golf resort about 5 hours away in South Carolina. Marie’s son Michael (Mike), and his betrothed, Cynthia (Cyn) had become good friends of all of us and we were excited to see them make this step.

It was 2 weeks until the nuptials when Cyn took me aside at a dinner get-together, “for a few minutes to ask a favor.” She seemed uncomfortable with her approach, but steeled herself to talk.

“Here’s the deal. My Dad is long since passed away, a messy situation. He abused my Mom physically, and me mentally, and after getting away with it for a long time, she finally pressed charges and he spent a little time in jail while she got an order of protection. The day he got out of jail he came right to the house and we called 911 and before he could beat the door down, the police came and, (she choked up and swallowed) ... they called it suicide by cop.”

I comforted her and she assured me she was OK and said, “It’s disturbing, but he was no good, a lousy father and I’m not sure he ever said he loved either of us. What I want to ask you is, at the wedding when then the wedding party and family get up to dance, would you be my Mom’s partner. Since all the ruckus from my Dad, she hasn’t many friends and certainly no men in her life. Her sisters’ boys are married and bringing spouses, my older brother is coming with his wife and kids. I want her to be up there with all of us. I’ve told her you were a gentleman and nice guy and might do it for me.”

She looked at me forlornly and as much as I didn’t want to do it, I nodded and said, “Consider this my gift to you. I’ll do that for YOU.”

“Please, you’re doing it for my Mom, she’ll be so happy to feel normal. You can meet her at the rehearsal party and I’m sure there won’t be a problem. Understand, this is not a “fix-up” or anything. It’s exactly what I said. She likes her life alone; she paints and writes. I know you have no intentions. That’s all understood?”

“I know you wouldn’t try to fix me up, you’ve heard my story too many times, and it sounds like your Mom has been through enough for one lifetime.” I said as she nodded and said, “You’ve stolen her words.”

The wedding weekend came upon us fast and I trained to South Carolina to avoid the drive on I-95 and after getting settled at the resort by Uber, I partied with some of my Florida neighbors until the post rehearsal party. We went into a 3-room suite full of partiers and quickly found Mike and Cyn who did introductions and made sure we were all happy with our accommodations. Cyn took me to a fairly attractive woman and introduced me, “Mom, this is our friend Chas that I was telling you about. Chas this is Paulette, my Mom.”

We exchanged small talk and had a drink and she seemed very nice. She asked which building I was in, (since all the assigned rooms had been screwed up) and told her 37.

“That’s great, my sister has the 3 bedroom there, like this one, for her family coming in tomorrow morning, and I have the 2 bedroom, for my son and his wife flying in tomorrow morning, as well, so you must be one of the 1st floor suites.”

“Exactly,” I said, happy they kept her family together, since so many others were upset at the mish-mash of room assignments.

“Did Cyn explain the situation? It’s a little uncomfortable and...”

“Stop!” I interrupted, “She filled me in for as much as I need to know. So sorry for your situation.”

“It’s hard to get people to look you in the face after all of that, like I had anything to do with it all. It’s been pretty uncomfortable for the past 2 years.” She quietly explained. “It’s been so hard on the family. That’s why this wedding has been so important for all of us. Sort of a relief valve on everything. It’s why I wasn’t going to take my son or brother-in-law away from their spouse to dance with me, we wanted us all to be together and happy.”

“I’m happy to do it for you. I’d like to bring a little happiness to you after hearing the story.” I told her.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, I’m glad he’s dead. Now, let’s change the subject and keep that story private.” She said as I nodded when another woman came up to us.

“Oh!” Paulette smiled, “Chas, this is my sister Renee. She’s in the same building as us.”

We all exchanged pleasantries and small talk, with Renee peeling off to mingle. Paulette and I spoke for a few more minutes before she wanted to join her sister greeting relatives.

As Paulette walked away and began conversing with other friends and relatives, I tried to size her up. I had her at about 45-50, and while not “stunning”, she was an attractive, pretty, woman. When she smiled one side of her lips seemed lazy, something Cyn pointed out I might notice, proof of the brutality of the beatings she endured during her marriage. She reminded me of the character Felicity Huffman played on Desperate Housewives, a little mousey, rough around the edges, but cute in her own way. Something a little make-up could turn her into a somewhat stunner. She had the features that a make-over could make “stunning”.

I continued to mingle but felt uncomfortable at all of the people I didn’t know and after 3 beers, a “group shot” toast of Jameson’s, and numerous finger foods, I was ready to get back to my suite, relax and watch some TV before falling asleep. It had been a long day, traveling and settling in. I decided to mingle and move towards the door where I planned to slip out. I was doing just that when Renee tugged at my elbow.

“Am I mistaken, or are you planning a little escape? Paulette and I are both looking to do the same thing. We have to get up early to drive to the airport to get the rest of our families. I’ve rented a big 4 row van. Could you walk us back if I can find Paulette? She’s trying to do the same thing we are.”

“Sure,” I said. I’ll be just outside the front of the building waiting for you. It is dark outside, and I would figure it pretty safe here, but I would be happy to escort you.”

After a few minutes the 2 ladies came out and we began the 3 blocks walk back.

“It was a nice party, but too many people, and too many I didn’t know.” Paulette said.

Renee and I both seconded her feelings and shared little stories of uncomfortable dealings that night. Once we got to building 37, we stood in front and talked for 15 minutes sharing stories and the like about Cyn and Mike. Cyn and her mother had been through a hell that brought them closer, but made them stronger. That situation, of the ending of the ordeal, was not specifically brought up, but it’s influence of the whole situation and our chatter was obvious.

Finally, Renee said, “Come up, I’ll show you my 3 bedroom, without the 60 people Mike & Cyn have in theirs.”

We all rode up the elevator and took a tour and then, we went down one flight and saw Paulette’s 2 bedroom. Both places had large living areas, totally separate from the bedrooms. There could be plenty of privacy, if you wanted it, off the living rooms. I left the 2 of them with Renee going up the elevator and me taking the stairs down to my suite. I think we all were tired and ready to flop for the night.

Once in my room I threw on a pair sweat shorts and a t-shirt, poured a Harveys, and put on the TV. I was watching Shark Tank when I could not help but hear a constant light taping coming from the front of the room, and I was letting it go, not quite someone knocking, but just an annoying tick-like sound. It stopped for a few minutes, but then started again, so I pulled myself up to look in the fish-eye peep to see what was out there.

There was Paulette, her face in front of the eye and her hand next to it, just tapping with the tips of her nails, her pinky to her forefinger, over and over again.

I was confused, but opened the door.

Paulette flushed in embarrassment and spoke.

“I didn’t want to make a scene or too much noise to draw attention to myself. May I come in?”

I said sure and stepped back to allow her in.

“It’s been so long since I actually spoke to a man besides police and therapists, I really enjoyed your company tonight. I was hoping, if I’m not too forward, we could continue.”

Before I could react, she put a hand on my shoulder, next to my neck, and pulled me to her face where she kissed me, quite hard.

“Paulette, we shouldn’t.” I said but she butted in right away.

“I’m not starting anything, it’s just I’ve had no contact with a man, or the opportunity for 3 years. You seem so sweet and I’ll likely never see you again after this weekend.”

“But you ARE starting something!” I countered. “I mean, I’m not looking for a boyfriend, I’m just so lonely and you are so nice, I can’t stop thinking about you dancing with me tomorrow, your arms around me. When I do think of it, my insides go crazy. Do this for me and I don’t care if we dance tomorrow.” She pleaded.

I wasn’t one who got laid often enough that I would turn down even a marginal prospect, but Paulette was a pretty good-looking woman. She had a tear in her eyes as she looked to me and then went for my mouth again. I was more receptive this time and let her lead the depth of the kiss and she proved to be VERY hungry. I locked my arms around her and slid a hand down over her ass, pulling her middle to mine.

“Oh God!” She breathed into my ear as I kneaded her ass, now with both hands.

I continued our kiss until she pulled her mouth from me and asked “Where?”

I took her hand and led her to the bedroom and I saw the glass slider in the shower reflect our image as we passed.

“Let me undress you and we’ll shower to make us fresh.” I said knowing I was hot at the party and might not be as clean as I might want.

Suddenly she looked frightened as I began to undo the buttons down her back on her dress. Then she turned to give better access and she let it fall forward, now just her bra on her top. She reached for the front snap on the bra as I pushed the dress off her waist and she stood just in her red panty.

“I feel so hot and dirty!” She said as she reached for my belt and I unbuttoned my shirt.

I let her work at the front of my pants and I think she had ideas of going down on me, but I knew I was not clean with sweat, and I had peed twice already from the beers I drank. I took her hand as I stepped out of my pants and let her pull my shorts down as I led her to the shower enclosure. I reached in and turned the water on and pulled her in with me.

She drew a deep breath as the cool water hit her back and she cowered back to the wall until the water warmed and I pulled her body to mine under the water spray. She felt so delicious against me and her breasts were pressed against me as I ran my hands over her back and ass.

I stood back to look at her and she was gorgeous. I always remember the Playboy spread of Nancy Sinatra when she was long past her prime, age-wise, but she still looked incredible. Paulette was every bit as delectable.

I took the soap and wash cloth and began to wash her, wasting little time to get my hand between her legs. She had about a ½ inch growth of pubes, shaped into a lovely landing strip. When my fingers went through her furrow she swooned and fell back to the shower wall, ready to collapse, but she steadied herself and looked me straight in the eye as I washed and diddled her pretty pussy.

Her lips trembled and her legs shook as I finished washing her there and playfully reached under her to touch and rub her asshole clean. She fell forward into my arms and I ran the soapy cloth over her back and over her and between her pliant ass cheeks.

“You made my pussy feel so good!” she said rolling her eyes as she took the cloth from me and soaped it.

“Wait until I eat it.” I said as she looked at me with worried eyes. She washed me over and over before she got to my package where she squats down and looked my dick right in its eye. She ran her soapy hand over it a few times, letting the flow rinse it and her hand before she took it in her mouth. Her mouth was warm and hungry as she took it all in her mouth and then dropped back to look at her prize.

“Your cock is beautiful. I can’t wait until it’s inside me.” She said before she kissed it one more time and stood.

I turned off the water and we dried while trying to devour each other’s mouths, but finally I took her hand and brought her to the bed. She laid back and I went for her breasts, covering her nipples with kisses and nips. She near screamed with pleasure and flopped on the bed like a fish out of water, soon I went down her belly and right to her pussy.

Now, she was a mature woman, all that I had in recent years. Not fat, but with a loving softness of flesh around her middle and a nice full ass I could grip while I feasted on her pussy. She could barely keep her breath as I lolled her clit and licked her juices. She wanted to scream, but caught each attempt in her throat, but she bucked like a horse that didn’t want to be mounted. I held her firm until I knew she had come over and over and was ready to be fucked. Just as I was about to give her up, she bounced hard on the bed and flipped over to keep my mouth from her electric little tingler. Though I didn’t know her well, when presented as pretty an asshole as she had, I went for it with my tongue and drilled her little hole and all the flesh between her sweet cheeks. She offered no resistance to the tonguing I gave her back side, she just enjoyed it until I squirmed up and spooned her.

“Don’t go in me yet, I want to taste that cock and the juices you must have.” She whispered. I rolled to my back and she scooted around quickly and dove her mouth over me, her tongue going crazy over my shaft. She kept sucking and slithered around to get my balls in her mouth and even pushed my legs up to tongue my asshole. This was a woman in need of sex, BADLY.

She came up over me and laid on me, but I quickly reversed her so I was over her. I slid into her wet sloppy pussy giving her a rush as he clasped her arms around me, as if to hold me in, but I was going nowhere. I loved pleasing this sex starved beauty. I moved slowly within her until she was accustomed to being filled and her breathing leveled. It was then I drew back to my knees, staying in her, and taking her legs in my hands. I put her calves on my shoulders and began to sink into her and withdraw as she swooned whispering “Fuck me, fuck me”

After she had cum a couple times I settled back and pushed her legs forward. I told her to grab one, then the other, locking them back for me. I proceeded to jack-hammer pound her until her eyes rolled back and I thought she might pass out. I stopped and waited for her reaction.

“Oh, you’ve been so good to me. I’ve never felt that good, you are so nice to me. Let me have your cock. I want to taste your cum. My husband never let me, saying I was a whore for wanting to.”

I felt so sorry for this woman who had such a tortured life behind her, I was happy to make her happy.

“You’re no whore, you are a beautiful woman who could make any man happy. I took you as I pleased, now you take me.” I told her as I walked back on my knees ready to lay beside her, but she sprang up to her knees and bent to take me in her mouth. We were kneeling, facing each other, her mouth over me, sliding up and down. I had never had a blow-job in this position and I must say it was quite different and enjoyable. I felt my orgasm cycle begin to stir and I’m sure she sensed that, probably along with tasting some pre-cum. She hummed at its taste, I suspect, and she tightened her mouth and put the palms of her hands to the sides on my ass as I began to rut a bit to her mouth. I exploded hard to her soft hums and loud swallows of my cum. She continued until I began to get sensitive and shudder at the feeling of her tongue and mouth. She came up and smiled and kissed me with her cummy mouth, and then quickly wiped my lips with her fingers, apologizing.

“Not to worry, I’ve tasted my own before, if it’s good for you, it’s good for me.” I told her, causing her to paste her mouth on me again as we swapped spit and probably some of me, but nothing I tasted frankly.

“You have no idea how much this has meant to me.” She said. “I’ve only felt unworthy and wondered if any man would want me after everything.”

“You have nothing to feel unworthy or guilty over. You are a hot woman who knows how to please a man, AND lets a man please her. Forget your past with men, it’s all new every time. Just be careful of your heart. Do you know what I mean?” I philosophized.

“I do, now. I made big mistakes with trust, self-respect. I’m a better woman now, I think.” She said quietly.

“Just think, you went after what you wanted, with little or no fear.” I said starting a thought, but she finished it, saying:

“And now I can walk away happy, satisfied with myself. This was for ME.”

“Oh, I took a lot away, too!” I said laughing as she joined in.

She slowly got up from the bed covering her breasts with her arms in a pique of modesty. She picked up her panties and slipped them on, then took her bra and ran to the bathroom. When she came out, I had put underwear back on as she found her clothes and dressed quickly.

“Umm, I should get going so I’m not missed. Thank you for everything, you were wonderful. I’m so glad you understood the situation.” She said quietly.

“Thank YOU! It isn’t often I get such an offer from such a beautiful woman.” I assured her.

“An old woman.” She said in a self-deprecating tone.

“After you undress tonight, look at yourself in the mirror.” I said, “Besides your personality, you have so much to offer a man, young or old. You still have so much of your life to correct the path you were thrust upon, enjoy your children and find true love.”

“You’re so sweet. I’m glad Cyn picked you for tomorrow. I’m sure she wouldn’t believe or understand what happened here tonight, but I look forward to tomorrow, where I’ve worried about it for weeks now. Good night.” She said as she slipped out the door and went up the stairwell to her suite, skipping the noisy elevator.

I smiled to myself and went to bed, falling asleep immediately.

I heard the elevators in the morning, and car doors out front early as the sisters above me were off to pick up their families. I went back to sleep for a bit, went to breakfast, and decided to relax by the pool. I had my newspaper and did the puzzles as I sat under an umbrella. Occasionally I would look up to enjoy the view of the young female bodies in their bikini’s as they sunned and splashed. I dozed at one point and woke to seeing Paulette and Renee with their families enjoying the sun and the pool. Paulette looked to me once and smiled, that was our only exchange. People began to peel off around 2 in the afternoon to begin preparing for the 5 o’clock wedding.I was watching one particular young lady in the pool. She didn’t seem to be with anyone, just maybe a sister or girlfriend at the chaise where she parked her towel. She was, to me anyway, the most attractive woman there. Pretty face, with innocent high cheekbones and sultry dark eyes to match her light olive skin. I wasn’t sure if her coloring were ethnic, or sun soaked. Either way, she was quite fetching, far out of my league in looks and age. She was maybe 20 to 25. I watched her enough to know I would be thinking of her in the shower that night. After the drinking and rich food at the wedding, I was sure a little masturbation would coax sleep to my body. Necessary or not for dreamland, cranking off an orgasm would be a nice ending to the last 24 hours, first with Paulette and then enjoying admiring and fantasizing this young ladies totally picturesque face and body.

The wedding was a nice affair and I actually enjoyed the honest, original, and frank wedding vows.The reception was on-site and with open bar it became a loud affair until the introductions of the wedding party. As they stood lining up the bride and groom had their first dance, and then one by one they added the wedding party. When they got to the Mother of the bride they said “joined by family friend Chas.”

We smiled to each other and said little, except for a polite “Thank You for everything”, from Paulette at the end of the dance. If I thought I had to worry about her “falling” for me, it was for naught. She acted like our tryst was what it was, just AS it was, and I was happy. A lovely, beautiful, sexy lady, but I didn’t need a girlfriend or a moon eyed admirer. I considered myself a good-looking guy, and had my share of women who thought they could corral me in the past. But relationships were not my thing.I never made promises.

My assigned table was friends of the bride or groom, or both, and we all seemed to know each other. We did some jovial drinking and story sharing. One of the groom’s friend’s wife or girlfriend asked me to dance to a favorite song of hers after he refused. It was an Aerosmith song I was familiar with, so, what the heck. While up there, I saw the olive-skinned beauty from the pool on the floor, as well. I wondered what connection she had to Cyn and Mike. I did my customary single trip to the dance floor at such affairs so no one could say I never danced. We finished the dance and my partner thanked me and we headed back to the table.

Just as I was about to sit, they announced that the wedding cake had been cut and placed on a table with coffee cups and 2 full urns of regular and caffeine free coffee. For one reason or the other, I love wedding cake. Yellow cake with thick white frosting is just so tasty after a big meal.

Without sitting I made a bee line for the table to grab the cake and there I saw choices of cut pieces, ones with corner frosting, or inside pieces with big flowers. I was just choosing when I heard a soft voice from behind me say, “Some friend of the family, fucking the bride’s mother. Naughty, naughty.”

I chose to ignore the comment figuring it came from someone Paulette confided in. I picked up my cake and turned so I didn’t have to face the speaker, but they turned to me as well and I stood face to face with the olive-skinned beauty I ogled earlier. I went to walk away casually but she stayed on my arm as I walked and she spoke again.

“I heard the tapping on the door myself and finally went to the peephole to see her, and when you eventually let her in.”

“I’m sorry, you are?” I asked somewhat indignantly thinking she was accusing me of something, but the soft smile and glow of her eyes told me she wasn’t accusing or judging me. I stopped while others rushed past to get in the cake line.

“I’m Reggie, I was Cynthia’s room-mate at Cornell when she was getting her Masters.” She said as her magical eyes took me in face to face.