$name1 is Sergey’s friend, and he’s getting married to Elena. As his best friend, $name1 is asked by Sergey to be his “best man”. Begrudgingly she agrees. On the day of the wedding, she fulfils all her “best man” duties, including spending time with the bridesmaid $name2.
$name1 was Sergey’s best friend and had been forever, so when Sergey got married, she supposed it made sense that he wanted her to be his best man.
She argued all the same and said she didn’t want to. In the end, $name1 stopped arguing and came to terms with what she needed to do to support her friend.
She got to go to the stag’s night. That was fun. Or not. It was Sergey and her and a few guys from his work, and $name1 sat at the bar and talked to an off-duty stripper and didn’t look anywhere she didn’t want to look, because she wasn’t going to make herself part of the show.
She talked to the stripper and ignored Sergey’s drunk friends from soccer, and secretly resented that the bridal party was getting pedicures and massages right now.
After the strippers, she got Sergey home and made sure he didn’t get tied to anything shaven-headed and naked.
The strippers seemed to be about the end of her best man duties. Not losing him during the stag night and making sure he turned up at the actual wedding, that was all.
The wedding venue was an old county house, some kind of pioneer settler place a couple of hours out of the city with grounds and trees, which had been turned into a corporate and wedding venue. It was nice. It was fancier than Sergey deserved, $name1 thought, and decided she quite liked the place.
She had time to look around, at the rehearsal, because the bridal party seemed to be taking their time. In the end, Sergey made her go and see what was happening.
Apparently, there were other best man jobs, mostly to do with how Sergey couldn’t see the dress before the wedding day. She went and knocked on the door where the bridal party was getting ready.
One of the bridesmaids, $name2, opened it. She opened it a crack and looked out.
“Best man,” $name2 said, blocking the door, peering out. “Hi. Is it just you?”
$name1 nodded.
“Good,” $name2 said.
“Is it $name1?” someone said from inside the room. $name1 thought it was Elena’s voice.
“Yep,” $name2 said, and everyone inside seemed to relax. They started talking again. $name2 stayed in the doorway.
“Nice suit,” she said to $name1.
$name1 made a face and said, “Don’t.”
Sergey had made her wear a suit, even though she hadn’t wanted to.
They both had to match, Sergey had insisted, which was about when $name1 started to think there was a lot of being bossed around involved in being a best man.
$name2 had a sleek fitted dress in red, which $name1 envied. She wanted a dress too.
“Nice shoes,” $name2 said, glancing down.
$name1 grinned.
She was wearing black strappy four-inch heels. Sergey had won about everything else, including her hair being up in a bun, and her having the same carnation in it as he had in his collar.
$name1 grinned and looked down at $name2’s shoes. They matched her dress.
“Same,” $name1 said. “Very much so.”
They both stood there looking at each other’s feet. After a moment, after the shoe staring seemed to have gone on slightly too long, $name1 decided she’d better say something, or it was going to get a little weird.
“We were wondering what the hold up was?” she said.
“Elena.”
“Of course, but nothing, um, bad?”
$name2 shook her head. “She put everything on. To check it all. Now she has to take it all off again.
“Oh yeah,” $name1 said, realizing. “Of course.”
Apparently, everyone had to dress up for the rehearsal, and everyone except the bride had to wear their fancies. To make sure everything still fit, $name1 supposed, and that no-one clashed with each other.
“There’s something I wanted to talk to you about though,” $name2 said.
“Yeah, the dance.”
Elena had agreed to let Sergey have $name1 as his best man but said $name1 still had to dance.
Elena wanted a perfect wedding, which meant, as far as $name1 could tell, that everything had to be exactly as it would have been a hundred years ago.
That meant first dances, and second dances, and speeches, and toasts.
$name1 had to make speeches, and she had to dance with the bridesmaids, and she wasn’t sure she could do either very well.
“Not that,” $name2 said. “That we’ll deal with, or not.”
“Not?” $name1 said, hopefully.
$name2 grinned. “If everyone’s drunk enough, sure. It’s not that, though. It’s something else. Another formality.”
“Okay,” $name1 said and waited for $name2 to explain.
$name2 glanced back into the dressing room, then stepped outside, into the hallway, and pulled the door closed. “Come on,” she said and went off down the hallway.
$name1 followed, assuming it was some extra piece of fuck-awful tradition like cutting cakes or speeches or whatever. $name2 went into one of the other dressing rooms, and $name1 followed her.
$name2 closed the door. Then locked it.
“Um,” $name1 said, watching.
“It’s like this,” $name2 said. “There’s another tradition we need to sort out.”
“Is there?”
“Yep.”
“Who’s we?”
“Well, you and me.”
“Okay,” $name1 said, looking at the door. “Um, what?”
“The best man’s supposed to fuck one of the bridesmaids.”
“Um,” $name1 said. “What?”
“It’s a tradition.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard. But, um, what?”
$name2 grinned.
“Are you serious?” $name1 said.
“Yep, pretty much.”
“And Elena knows about this, does she?” $name1 said. “She sent you to talk this over?”
“Of course not,” $name2 said. “This is pretty much for me.”
“But you want to…”
“I hoped you might pick me. If you wanted anyone.”
“And if I don’t want anyone?”
$name2 shrugged. “There’s no harm asking.”
“Um,” $name1 said, still not quite sure if $name2 was teasing her, somehow. “I never really have before…”
“Fucked a bridesmaid?”
“Um, no,” $name1 said and flushed. “Not just a bridesmaid. Any kind of maid, really…”
“Oh.” $name2 seemed surprised. “Seriously?”
$name1 shrugged, feeling a little judged. “Not everyone does, you know.”
“God, sorry, I just mean… well, you really work in the suit. I just assumed…”
“Sergey’s idea. He made me.”
“Oh, I see.”
They both went quiet. Neither said anything for a moment. Just when it was starting to feel awkward, $name2 said, “So look, I’m sorry, I just thought I’d ask, that was all. I mean, I’m sorry if…”
$name1 shrugged. “It’s fine.”
“Well, no, because you’re obviously uncomfortable. But honestly, it was mostly just a joke. Like, I assumed, because of the suit…”
“Yeah.” $name1 stood there, feeling like she should say something too. “It’s just I haven’t before and you took me by surprise.”
$name2 shrugged. “Never mind.”
$name1 grinned and thought of shoes. “Same,” she said.
“Yeah,” $name2 said, and smiled back. “Well, sorry. It just seemed like a good line, sort of too funny not to say, but I guess it wasn’t.”
$name1 felt bad for her. “It was a good line.”
“But kind of a shame it was wasted.”
$name1 hesitated and told herself to stop, to shut up, not to let this turn into some weird wedding flirtation. She told herself that, then went ahead anyway. “Not necessarily wasted,” she said carefully.
$name2 seemed surprised. “You said you weren’t interested.”
“I said I hadn’t before.”
$name2 started to grin.
“I didn’t say yes either,” $name1 added quickly. “I just said maybe not wasted…”
“I know. I heard. I’m glad.” $name2 had moved, somehow, and was suddenly closer, suddenly looking at $name1, quite intently.
“Um…” $name1 said.
“Did I say I liked those shoes?” $name2 said.
“You did. And I said same.”
“I like the hair too.”
“Thank you. And same.”
“I like the lips,” $name2 said, smiling. “And I like the neck…”
$name1 nodded, wondering what she was supposed to do now. Nothing, as it turned out. $name2 took her hand and stroked her wrist, and $name1 shivered, despite herself.
“In fact,” $name2 said. “I really like all of you.”
“Thank you.”
“I really do.”
“I got that.” $name1 whispered, uncertainly.
“Especially your mouth,” $name2 said.
“Yep,” $name1 said. “Okay. I’m really not sure what to say.”
“Don’t say anything,” $name2 said softly and kissed her.
$name1 jumped, surprised $name2 was so close. She jumped, then said, “Oh fuck,” and then kissed $name2 back. It was a good kiss. It was soft and warm, and $name2 tasted a little of the wine.
$name1 opened her mouth, and $name2 did too, and $name1 put her hand on $name2’s hip, to steady herself, quite surprised at herself for doing this.
$name1 kissed for a moment, then suddenly thought about where they were. “Is the door locked?” she said.
“Yes.”
“Could you check?”
$name2 stopped kissing, and went to the door, and rattled the handle, solemnly. The door didn’t open. The handle didn’t turn. It seemed to be locked, $name1 had to agree.
$name2 came back to $name1 and stood in front of her.
“Okay,” $name1 said. “Yes. Well, good.”
$name2 just stood there. She seemed to be waiting. $name1 suddenly felt nervous, for no sensible reason.
“Kissing’s quite nice, really, isn’t it?” $name1 said.
$name2 looked at her for a moment, and then slowly smiled. “Well, I think so, yes.”
“It’s kind of the same as you’d expect really,” $name1 said. “With you I mean. Just, um, better…”
$name2 kept looking at her.
“Not better maybe,” $name1 said. “Perhaps not better, but definitely different. New, and, well…” she thought, then stopped, suddenly lost for words.
“Better?” $name2 said.
“Yes, I suppose so.”
“Maybe I should kiss you again,” $name2 said as if she’d only just thought of it.
$name1 looked at her. “Yeah, maybe you should.”
“Would you like me to?”
“I think I would.”
$name2 did. She kissed slowly, and $name1 put her hand on $name2’s arm and kissed back, carefully.
“That really is nice,” $name1 said, after a moment.
“You’re talking a lot,” $name2 said.
“I know.”
“Way too much.”
“Yep. I’m nervous.”
“Don’t be.”
“Well, this is new.”
“Still, don’t be. There’s a way we’re meant to do this, I think.”
$name1 felt terribly relieved. “Oh thank fuck,” she said. “Because I have no idea. I mean, I can guess, and I thought about it once, but I really have no idea how the leg thing would work…”
“No,” $name2 said, grinning. “I meant bridesmaid fucking the best man sex. I have an idea how that’s meant to work.”
“Oh,” $name1 said and felt a little silly.
“But the other, I mean, I can show you if you’d like…?”
$name1 looked at her. “Um, maybe. Perhaps. Later. Tell me about the other bit first?”
“Bridesmaids and best men?”
“Yes, that.”
“Bridesmaid and best man sex?”
$name1 almost glared. “Yes.”
“Well, I think it’s meant to be all sordid and dirty, that’s all. Like blowies in the gazebo outside, or quickies in the dressing room while everyone’s distracted.”
“There’s no gazebo outside, I don’t think,” $name1 said.
“No. So, quickies in the dressing room while everyone’s distracted.”
“Yeah,” $name1 said. She looked around, quite deliberately. “Um, this is a dressing room, I think.”
“I noticed that too.”
“And everyone’s distracted, aren’t they?”
“For a few minutes, yeah.”
“Oh,” $name1 said. “Well. Um, what did you have in mind?”
“Take those trousers off.”
$name1 blinked. That was quite sudden. “Um, what?”
“I’m a bridesmaid. I’m meant to give the best man a blowie during the wedding.”
“Stop calling it that,” $name1 said.
“Blowie?”
“Yeah. Don’t. It’s weird.”
“I thought that’s what they were called.”
“Um. Not by me.”
“Fine. But take off the pants.”
$name1 hesitated, looking at $name2, and then slowly undid her trousers.
She opened the fly, and slid the trousers off her hips, and then stood there for a moment, uncertain.
“Take them off,” $name2 said.
“I don’t know. What if someone comes in?”
“The door’s locked.”
“The staff might have a key.”
$name2 glanced around. There wasn’t much in the room. A dresser with a mirror, a chair in front of it, and another armchair across the room.
$name2 put the dressing table chair against the door, and said, “That’ll make some noise if someone opens it.”
$name1 nodded, unsure.
“Just take them off,” $name2 said. “Please? So, I can see your legs.”
$name1 sighed and then did. The trousers were loose enough that she could take them off without also taking off her shoes.
She had lacy French panties on underneath.
$name1 grinned back and liked $name2 a lot more. She draped her trousers over the armchair.
$name2 knelt, in front of $name1, and carefully kissed her tummy. She put her hands on $name1’s hips, and slid the shorts down, folded them, and put them on the armchair. She lifted $name1’s shirt up and out of the way, then shifted one of $name1’s feet, spreading $name1’s legs further apart.
$name1 watched, a little nervous. She could feel $name2’s breath on her pussy. She could feel $name2’s breath and feel herself becoming wet.
$name2 leaned forward, and quite unhurriedly, kissed $name1’s mound. She glanced up, and grinned, and then slowly licked, and suddenly $name1 just wanted to feel her.
It was good. $name2’s mouth felt good.
$name2 lapped, and licked, and kissed now and then, and sucked on $name1’s lips in a way $name1 adored but had never quite managed to explain properly to anyone before. $name2 just did it without being asked, and $name1 thought that was wonderful.
$name2 sucked and licked, and $name1 stroked her hair. She looked down at $name2’s hair, and the smooth skin of $name2’s shoulders, and thought it was odd to be looking at a woman while feeling what she was.
After a little while, $name1 felt herself getting close, and said, softly, “Um…”
$name2 understood.
“Go on,” she said, so $name1 did.
A hot breathless orgasm made her knees shaky, so much that she almost fell over. The chair was useful. It was enough to hold her up. She leaned on it and came against $name2’s mouth.
When $name1 was done, $name2 stood up, and leaned close, smiling, as if to kiss $name1. She began to kiss, as if by habit, then stopped and seemed to wonder whether she should.
“Don’t be an asshole,” $name1 said and kissed $name2 firmly.
It wasn’t like she hadn’t kissed her own wetness off someone’s mouth before. “What about you?” she said after a moment.
“There doesn’t have to be “a me”. Bridesmaid, remember? It’s my wedding job to blow the best man.”
“There can still be “a you”,” $name1 said.
“You don’t have to,” $name2 said, quite seriously. “Not if you aren’t sure.”
“I’m sure,” $name1 said and held up her hand. “You can do something with this, right?”
$name2 smiled and nodded. She kissed $name1, then leaned backwards, onto the armchair, and reached up under her dress to pull her underwear off. She put them on the dresser.
$name1 nodded, a little embarrassed she hadn’t thought of that herself. She could feel slightly damp and cool already. She held out her hand.
“Show me,” she said.
$name2 kissed $name1’s hand, then sucked on $name1’s fingers, making them wet, then said, “Just do like you do to you.”
$name1 nodded, nervous now.
$name2 pulled $name1’s hand down between her own legs and kissed $name1 again.
$name1 kissed back, sliding her hand up $name2’s thigh. She stroked upwards and ran into $name2’s dress.
$name1 kissed and stroked some more. She stroked $name2’s leg, making her gasp. Stroked, and then, before she could change her mind, she slid her fingers all the way up to $name2’s pussy.
$name2 felt hot, and wet, and slippery, and smooth.
She felt the shape of $name2’s pussy. She took her hand away and licked it slowly. Licked, and tasted a little of $name2.
It tasted sexy. It tasted like sexy, and nothing much else, and a different kind of sexy to how $name1 tasted to herself.
$name1 licked her fingers, and $name2 watched. Then $name1 put her hand back between $name2’s legs and rubbed gently. She rubbed, then after a moment said, “Um, hey,” and suddenly knelt.
She knelt, and then looked up at $name2. $name2 seemed surprised. She seemed to have stopped breathing. She was biting her lip as if she’d started to say something and then made herself stop.
$name1 grinned, and pushed at $name2’s foot, like $name2 had done to her earlier, making room for herself. Then she leaned in towards $name2’s pussy.
$name1 had never seen someone else’s quite so close and openly displayed before her.
$name1 leaned forward and licked, and $name2 softly sighed.
$name1 licked. She had no idea what she was doing, but it seemed to work well enough.
$name2 sighed, and stroked $name1’s hair, and soon, bent forward and wrapped herself around $name1, holding onto $name1’s shoulders. She pressed herself onto $name1, moving her hips slightly, and after a moment, $name1 slipped her fingers inside $name2.
$name2 came. Quite suddenly, and quite obviously, groaning, stroking $name1’s face with one hand, and pressing the other against her own mouth, apparently trying to stop herself from making as much noise. She came, then pulled $name1 up, and kissed her, and exhaled with joy.
They kissed, and then $name2 began fumbling at $name1’s trousers again, apparently wanting to do more.
“We’d better get back,” $name1 said. “Someone’ll notice we’re not there”
“I know, but…”
“I want to…” $name1 said.
“Good.”
“I want to,” $name1 said, “But quickies, remember?”
Almost reluctantly, $name2 nodded.
“Lots of quickies,” $name1 said, feeling brave. “Quickies all through the wedding day.”
“Oh,” $name2 said and started to smile again. “Um, yeah, of course, if you’d like.”
“I do.”
$name2 nodded and kissed her. It turned into a long, lingering kiss.
“You should go,” $name1 said, after a moment.
“What?” $name2 said. “Why?”
“We should leave separately,” $name1 said, “Shouldn’t we? Isn’t that how you do sneaky with stuff like this.”
“Oh yeah,” $name2 said. “Well, you go first.”
$name1 was looking forward to the wedding, she decided. She was looking forward to seeing $name2 at the wedding, and what might happen with her there.