A Girl Walks Into a Wedding Read online

  Steve ramps up to a frenetic pace, going from long deep thrusts to short hard ones, groaning as you push back and down on his cock, clamping your pussy and thigh muscles tightly around him, still feeling the vibrations of the small toy all along the length of his cock. You realise that as much as you can feel every vibration along the length of your pussy, he must be able to feel it all through his shaft too. He squeezes your hips as he comes with a grunt and a couple of shudders.

  You spread out beside him, breathless and completely spent. Every inch of you is tingling. The buzzing stops as Steve slips the ring off his cock, turns it off and drops it on the bed. Between his kisses, that marvellous little pink toy, and his incredibly hard cock, that was easily the best sex of your life.

  Go to page 128.

  You want to have sex with Steve without the toy

  You prod the vibrating ring in Steve’s palm, then wrap an arm around his neck – never mind his toy, you want more of those incredible kisses. As your tongues meet, you feel the hard press of his erection against your leg and you run your fingers down his back.

  When you finally come up for air, you look into his eyes, then trail your hand over his groin, feeling him respond immediately under the fabric. ‘You know what?’ Your voice comes out a growl. ‘I don’t think we’re going to need any help.’ You snatch the vibrating bullet and toss it aside, then slip your thumb through the gap in his shorts, running it up the side and over the top of his cock as he groans in pleasure.

  Steve pushes you back on the bed and slips your knickers off in one smooth move. Then it’s his turn as you help him get rid of his underwear, ecstatic to find his long, hard cock pulsing.

  You seize handfuls of the duvet underneath you as he runs two fingers up and down from your cunt to your clit, making you arch, your moans no longer quiet. And then you gasp as his mouth envelops your clit, and his fingers push inside you, opening you up. You want to scream every time his tongue hits your clit. And then he’s doing something different with his tongue, something you’ve never experienced before, twisting it round and round as he pushes in and out of your pussy like a drill, first in one direction and then in the other, and every nerve in your body sings.

  When you’re no longer able to bear it, you pull him up to you and roll around on the bed kissing, your legs wrapped around each other, until you tumble off the edge of the bed together, your fall cushioned by the king-sized coverlet you’d kicked to the floor earlier. And then you go back to kissing on the floor, laughing into each other’s mouths.

  You wrap your palm around his cock and rub up and down as his fingers find your clit, and both your hands move in time together.

  ‘Fuck me now,’ you pant, worried that you might come before he even gets inside you, then you both laugh again as he reaches up and fumbles around for the condom he left on the bedside table.

  Eventually he snags it, tears the packaging open, then rolls the condom onto his cock in one smooth movement. You lie back on the floor in the soft folds of the silken coverlet as he positions himself between your legs and enters you slowly, your eyes locked. He rocks against you, and then ramps up his speed until he’s pounding into you in time with your moans.

  ‘I want to come with you,’ he breathes, and you lift your hips to match his thrusts, urging him harder, faster, begging for more, both of you riding the same wave of extreme pleasure until it breaks over you, and you come at the exact same time, shouting out together, your fingers digging into each other’s skin, eyes squeezed tight in the moment of the explosion. You feel salt on your tongue, and you don’t know if it’s sweat or tears, or his or yours.

  Steve collapses next to you and you sprawl beside him, your chest heaving, every inch of your body tingling. As far as sex goes, that was right up there with the best you’ve ever had.

  Go to page 128.

  You’ve just had mind-blowing sex with Steve

  ‘Are you thinking what I’m thinking?’ you say to Steve, when you finally get your wits back.

  He nods. ‘Yeah. Sorry, that was rubbish, wasn’t it? I guess I was wrong. Clearly we’re not compatible after all.’

  You’re stunned. Surely he must be joking? ‘Are you being serious?’

  ‘You must have felt it too, right? That lack of connection. What were we thinking? This could never work.’

  ‘Right … felt it too … lack of connection … never work … ’ you parrot. The only thing you felt was an astonishingly good orgasm bonanza.

  ‘I guess sometimes it’s just not meant to be.’ He smiles wryly. ‘But at least we gave it a good bash, and now we have closure, right?’ He pats you platonically on the arm. Then he looks at his watch: ‘If I leave now, I can get back to town before it’s too late.’

  You watch speechless from your nest of bedding as he pulls on his clothes and packs up his DVDs.

  ‘Thanks for inviting me, and please say bye to everyone from me. Oh, and tell Father Declan I’ll be in touch about sponsoring that school in Somalia.’ He kisses you chastely on top of your head. ‘It’s a shame things didn’t work out for us,’ he says before slipping out the door.

  You can’t believe it. You just let a funny, smart, super-hot sex god slip between your fingers. You drum your heels and think about raiding the minibar. But the last thing you need tomorrow is a hangover and puffy eyes.

  Your hideous bridesmaid’s dress mocks you from its hanger on the wardrobe. You wonder if Jane and Tom have ironed things out. Your best friend will need you to be there for her either way, and being a self-pitying mess with a tragic vodka head won’t help anyone.

  Wait, it looks like Steve didn’t pack everything. Your eye catches the vibrating cock ring, and you reach for it to examine it more closely. At least he left you a little something to remember him by. And if you’re going to be a single girl this weekend, you might as well be a single girl with a vibrator!

  Go to page 130.

  It’s the morning of the wedding

  You sip your morning coffee. Everyone keeps asking you where Steve is, and you feel like throttling them all. You’ve made up an excuse about him having to jet off to an emergency comedy conference, but no one’s buying it. Even worse is that tablecloth dress lurking in your room. The last thing you feel like doing is putting the damn thing on, but you’re going to have to woman-up and take one for the team.

  Cee Cee bustles into the breakfast room, giant curlers haloing her head. ‘Why aren’t you in your dress?’ she barks at you. ‘And where is Jane? The manicurist is here. I hope she’s sorted out all her issues.’

  You mumble something about not having seen Jane yet this morning, and let Cee Cee shepherd you into the room where a team of makeup artists and hairdressers are waiting, brandishing mascara wands and curling irons. Aunt Lauren and Noe are already being primped and curled.

  The makeup artist flutters around you, piling on the foundation. You glance in the mirror. Fantastic. You look like a cast member of RuPaul’s Drag Race.

  Oh well. There’s no chance of getting lucky anyway. Steve has gone, JD has hooked up with someone else, and you’d need to get paralytic to even consider Mikey. You sigh. It’s time to crowbar yourself into the bridesmaid’s dress.

  The door opens and Jane walks in. She’s dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.

  ‘Finally!’ Cee Cee says.

  ‘I have something to tell you all,’ Jane announces.

  If Jane tells you the wedding is on, go to page 132.

  If Jane tells you the wedding is off, go to page 158.

  The wedding is on

  Your chest feels tight, but you’re not sure if this is because you’re constricted by the Hell Dress or because you’re all choked up. Jane, radiant with happiness, looks more beautiful than you could possibly have imagined, and you feel weepy with emotion as she reaches for Tom’s hand at the front of the chapel.

  You managed to snatch a few minutes to talk to her alone after she had marched into the dressing room and announced the wedding would be
going ahead as planned, and she assured you she was happy with her decision.

  ‘Tom and I are best friends,’ she said. ‘Steve was right. It is the only thing that matters in the end.’

  You’re genuinely happy for her. After the weekend you’ve had, you can understand the attraction of spending the rest of your life with someone you trust and know inside out.

  Father Declan clears his throat. ‘If anyone knows any reason why these two should not be joined in holy matrimony, speak now, or forever hold your peace.’

  The hush is broken by a sound. A ripping, popping sound.

  Hang on … why does your chest suddenly feel all breezy? You look down to see that the bridesmaid’s dress has split from the neckline to the waist.

  The intense silence is broken by a squeal of horror from Cee Cee. Father Declan is gulping. You do your best to cover yourself with your hands, which is a little tricky given that you’re juggling both your bouquet and Jane’s. Mikey is silently clapping, Tom’s dad is grinning broadly, and Lisa is openly hooting.

  Then you feel something being draped over your shoulders. Bruno relieves you of the bouquets so you can slip your arms into his jacket.

  You mutter ‘Thanks,’ and mouth ‘Sorry,’ at Jane, who mouths back ‘Classic.’

  Bruno catches your eye and whispers, ‘Don’t worry.’

  You give him a grateful look. Who would have thought that your old enemy would be the one to help you out?

  Father Declan, now the colour of a tomato, stumbles on with the ceremony, and everyone claps and cheers as he declares that Tom and Jane are now husband and wife. A string quartet strikes up, and you slink down the aisle behind the happy couple, trying to pretend that a man’s jacket over a buttonless bodice and a lot of skin is what all the best bridesmaids are wearing this season.

  ‘Way to make a tit of yourself,’ Lisa says, sidling up next to you.

  ‘Ha ha. I wasn’t expecting to hear that at all.’

  She nudges you. ‘Lighten up! This is one wedding no one will ever forget.’

  ‘Yeah. I’ll be that woman.’

  ‘The bridesmaid who made a boob.’

  You sigh. ‘No one can say I didn’t have the breast intentions for the day, though.’

  Lisa rolls her eyes, and you both giggle. Mikey shoots you a lascivious glance, and Lisa gives him the finger.

  As Jane and Tom leave the chapel, Cee Cee and a couple of the staff release the long-suffering white doves from their baskets. But not even the spectacle of several doves crapping on Cee Cee’s upswept hairdo can entirely blunt your humiliation.

  Amid cheers, Jane throws the bouquet. Lisa catches it, yelps in dismay and immediately throws it to Aunt Lauren, who in turn chucks it away as if it’s on fire. Cat ends up catching it, and you surprise yourself by feeling a brief pang of regret.

  You try to make a dash for your room before heading to the reception, so you can change out of your torn dress, but Cee Cee intercepts you.

  ‘You can’t get changed!’ she orders. ‘You’ll clash with the flower girls and ruin the photographs. Just hold your bouquet in front of you.’

  It takes every bit of your resolve not to tell Cee Cee to shove the bouquet where the sun don’t shine, but a screaming row is the last thing Jane needs today. You compromise by wearing Bruno’s jacket until the very last moment, and somehow get through the photographs without too much embarrassment.

  As you walk into the room where the reception’s being held, you try to console yourself. It’s not as if the wedding weekend could get any worse, could it?

  Yep. It could. The tablecloths and serviettes really do match your ruined dress.

  The speeches are over, and you slump in your chair, knocking back your third glass of champagne. You’ve been seated at the children’s table – a sly bit of name-card shuffling on the part of Domino, who are happily getting pissed with Mikey and a few of Tom’s friends.

  Tom’s dad stands up, gives you a hopeful smile, and starts weaving his way towards your table. He’s attractive, with those rugged looks, but you hope he isn’t coming over to chat you up – with the whole dress debacle, you’re just not in the mood for small talk. One of the Domino children (Manhattan? Montreal? Mogadishu?) announces that she wants to go for a wee-wee.

  ‘Do you need me to come with you?’ you ask.

  ‘I’m not a baby,’ she says haughtily. Great. Even the kids are treating you like an idiot.

  Tom’s dad is waylaid by Aunt Lauren en route, and you heave a sigh of relief.

  The little girl races back to the table. ‘Two ladies kissing!’ she squeals. ‘I saw two ladies kissing! One had pink hair.’

  You stare. She can only mean Lisa.

  ‘Now look here, Moscow or Maputo or whatever your name is,’ you snap. ‘It’s very naughty to make up stories.’

  ‘But I did see them kissing!’ Her voice rises like a siren. ‘And they were squeezing each other’s chests.’

  Oh shit. You dart out into the corridor just in time to see Cat and Lisa emerging from one of the alcoves.

  ‘Lisa!’ you hiss.

  Lisa turns, catches your eye and smiles radiantly. Cat murmurs something to her, gives you an unreadable look, and strolls off in the direction of the rooms.

  ‘What are you doing?’ you ask.

  ‘What can I say? For the first time in my life I’ve met someone who is both nice and not boring.’

  ‘But … Cat has a boyfriend.’ Lisa may be a lot of things, but she’s not a cheater – you’ve never known her to sneak around behind someone’s back.

  ‘What’s going on?’ a child’s voice says behind you. ‘Are you going to kiss the lady too?’

  ‘I’ll tell you about it later,’ Lisa says to you, without the faintest trace of guilt. She hurries after Cat.

  You slink back to the reception and help the tots cut their wild-mushroom-and-apricot-stuffed chicken breasts into tiny pieces, in the vain hope that they might actually eat the stuff. But they make the judges on Masterchef look like teddy-bears. They’ve already declared the asparagus and truffle soup with tempura watercress garnish to be ‘slimy’, and secretly you agree. Even the politest member of the Domino clan – Yodabell the rat, safely ensconced in his cage under the table – turned up his nose at it.

  Someone touches your shoulder and you look up to see Bruno. ‘Have you seen Cat?’ he asks.

  Your face burns. ‘Um. Let’s see. Have I seen Cat? Why?’ It’s the best you can do.

  ‘She’s supposed to decorate the bridal suite, but she’s disappeared. Cee Cee’s roped me into doing it instead, but it’s not really my thing. I don’t suppose you feel like helping me, do you?’

  Hmm. It would give you an excuse to escape the reception. You’re going to bite the next person who makes a boob joke or leers, plus it will get you away from the children’s table. But after what you’ve just witnessed, how awkward is it going to be spending time alone with Bruno?

  ‘Come on,’ he says. ‘I promise to have you back in time for the first dance.’

  You can’t really say no. With a twinge of glee, you mention to Domino that you will no longer be acting as their unpaid babysitter, and slip out of the room with Bruno.

  Cee Cee has left a basket of rose petals and a bottle of champagne in a cooler in the corridor outside the bridal suite. Part of you registers the magnificence of the room – which has a four-poster bed that could sleep an entire family, a glittering crystal chandelier, and acres of pearl silk draped everywhere – as you desultorily start scattering petals around the room.

  ‘Hey, what’s the matter?’ Bruno asks. ‘This is a wedding, not a funeral.’

  ‘I’m fine,’ you lie.

  ‘C’mon, Stinky. There’s something on your mind.’

  Dammit. You curse Lisa for putting you in this position. Bruno saved you back at the wedding, after all. You may have a history of burning each other’s hair and destroying each other’s prized property, but no one deserves to be cheated on, do
they?

  What are you going to do?

  If you tell Bruno about Lisa and Cat, go to page 140.

  If you decide to keep it to yourself, go to page 153.

  You tell Bruno about Lisa and Cat

  ‘Bruno … I don’t know how to tell you this, but … ’ Why is being honest so hard?

  ‘Spit it out, for fuck’s sake.’

  ‘Um … it’s Cat. She and Lisa … look, there’s no easy way to say this, but …’

  ‘What? Are you trying to tell me that they’ve hooked up?’

  ‘You know?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But she’s your girlfriend.’

  ‘No, she’s not!’ He starts to laugh. ‘Hadn’t you realised that Cat’s gay? We’re just really good mates.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘If I had come to this wedding alone, I would never have heard the end of it from my mother. “Why are you still single? When are you going to meet a nice girl?” You know what my mum’s like, she’s a stuck record when it comes to weddings and grandchildren. I love her, but it’s exhausting. So Cat was nice enough to volunteer to come along with me to run interference.’

  ‘Oh.’ It’s all you seem capable of saying.

  ‘Mum can’t seem to understand that I don’t want to be with just anyone. I’m waiting for a certain someone to finally … get it.’

  ‘Get it?’ you whisper.

  ‘Yes, this girl I’ve known for a long time needs to get how much I really liked her when we were kids.’ His voice is a little husky. ‘How much I think I still like her.’ He picks the carnation out of the lapel of his jacket – the jacket you’re still wearing.