Revenge of the Bridesmaids (10 page)

I looked at Devon.  Behind the hungriness in his eyes there was an eagerness to hear my answer.  Dammit!  That only made him hotter to me.

“I’m afraid,” I said. 

“Afraid of what?”

“I’m afraid I might like it too much.”

“You will,” Devon said with a devilish smile.  “You’ll like it too much.  But I won’t fuck you.”  I wasn’t sure I liked that option, either.  What was wrong with me?  “I won’t fuck you,” Devon said, “if you don’t want me to.  I’ll only fuck you if you ask me to,” he said.

“You’re sweet,” I replied, trying to hide the shades of disappointment that I knew were there.

“No I’m not,” Devon said.  “I’m going to make you beg me to fuck you.”

Now what did he mean by that? 

Devon slid downwards, and his hands spread my thighs apart.  His mouth settled on my pussy, and I thought I would die.  How embarrassing!  I was so wet down there.  Devon could totally tell how excited I was.  There were no secrets now.  He lapped up my juices, moaning into me.  My back arched, and my toes curled, digging into the divan.

I realized my wrists were no longer being held back over my head, but I left them there just the same.  I liked the feeling of total surrender.  My nipples were still hard from Devon’s attentions, and they were getting harder.  His fingers ran over my tummy.  His hands were rough, like a workingman’s hands, and I loved how they felt on my soft skin.  My thighs began to throb.

“You taste amazing,” Devon said.  Amazing, he said—I taste amazing!

“Eat your fill, big fella,” I replied.  My fingers drew lazy circles around my nipples.  Devon spread me open with his tongue.  Ooh, it felt wonderful and weird all at once, to feel his wet tongue sliding inside me, tasting me, consuming me.  This was my time now, and I enjoyed it.

“Oh,” I said when his finger slipped inside me.  Well that was a new sensation.  The urge to say no rose up in me.  I didn’t want to seem like an easy lay.  But I didn’t say no.  I wriggled my hips while Devon violated me.  I liked Devon violating me.  I wanted him to violate me some more.  His hands moved about like a maestro’s, and I moaned and whispered “yeah baby” when he hit the right spot.

And then he flicked my clit.

“YEEE!” I screamed, my hands clutching my breasts so hard that I probably bruised them.  Zowie!  I never expected a zinging rush like that.  Yikes!  He flicked my clit again.  My hands shot out, grabbing for something, anything, but this divan wasn’t a bed.  There weren’t any sheets.  I heard heavy breathing, a sort of panting—was someone watching us?  I listened carefully for a moment before I realized it was my breathing that I heard.

“Are you okay, Amber?” Devon asked, looking up from between my legs.  I couldn’t find my power of speech, so I just reached down and pressed his face back into my steaming pussy.  His hands kept winding me up and my body grew warm and quivery. I didn’t want to ever go back to the wedding.  A wave of pleasure rose up in me, and I squeezed Devon’s head between my thighs.  Oh, I was almost there…so close…SO close.  And then Devon started kissing the insides of my thighs—wait, where are you going?—and my rising orgasm settled back from whence it came—a rare misstep from Devon.

But Devon was right back in my saddle before long, and his tongue was hungrier and more insistent.  Oh my.  His hands danced inside me and on the front of me, and a bass-laden crescendo started to rise once more through my core.  “Yeah, baby,” I said.  “You are the man.  The M-A-N man.”

“Mmm,” Devon replied, dabbing kisses on my blood-engorged twat.  My crescendo rose and rose.  “Maybe you could be my little cheerleader.  Go Devon, go.”

“Would you like that, baby?” I asked, stroking his head.  Breaths were hard to come by.  “Would you like me to wear a cheerleader outfit for you?  Saddleshoes, ankle socks, and a pleated skirt, and a turtleneck sweater?” From the speed of Devon’s tongue, I could tell he liked the idea.  It gave me a thrill, my words turning him on.  “And I could wear a letterman jacket,” I added.

“My letterman jacket.”

“Yes, your lettermen jacket, especially after a big game where you lead the team through an amazing comeback and a surprise victory.”  Oh, we were almost at the station once more.  Go crescendo, go!  I could feel my pussy clench at his fingers.  “I cheered my little ass off for you.”

“You’re cute little ass,” Devon said.

“My cute little ass.  The one that you want so badly.  And as I was cheering, the men in the stands were checking me out, but I’m saving myself—saving myself for you, my hero.”

“I’m your hero?” Devon asked, his hands growing still, but his lips brushing me down there.  No, don’t stop.  I started to sink.  Drats—he’d lost the momentum again.  My crescendo ebbed once more.  Not again!

“Yes,” I said, “you’re my hero.”

Devon kissed my clit.  “Am I your hero because I won the game?”

“Yes, and no.”  I started to slide my hand towards my pussy, figuring I could stroke my clit and put myself over the edge, but Devon pushed my hand away, and then settled back on my clit himself.

With a few quick flips of his fingers, Devon brought my crescendo back to the rise.  Wait.  He wasn’t inept.  Devon knew exactly what he was doing.  He was torturing me!  This was how he was going to make me beg!  What a nefarious plan.

“No?” Devon asked.  What do you mean, no?”

“No,” I said, “that’s not the only reason you’re my hero.  You’re my hero because you’re going to take my virginity.  I’m begging you to take it.”  His fingers dug in, and another set of zings riddled my poor aching bod.

My hips were rolling from side to side.  I couldn’t take much more of this teasing.

“How are you going to beg me, my little cheerleader?” Devon asked.

“Enough with the cheerleader.”  I gasped and wriggled, my body stretching for a goal that was just out of reach.  “Devon, please fuck me.”

“I thought you didn’t want to, and that you are afraid.”

“Devon, please fuck me.”  His fingers were working their magic again, and my eyes rolled up to stare at the ceiling.  “Please, Devon, fuck me!” I shouted.  “Stick your fat cock inside me and ride me into the sunset.  Oh, God, Devon, please, I’m begging you.  Fuck me, Devon, please!  Fucking fuck me already, PLEASE!”

In an instant, Devon was on top of me.  He shoved his cock into my dripping pussy.  “Ooooooh,” I moaned.  Oh, God, I needed this!  “Yes, yes, yes!”  Devon’s fat cock spread me wide—way wider than his fingers did—and it ran deep.  “Yeah, baby.  That’s it.  Yeah.”  It took me a moment to get used to him, but Devon seemed to be able to read my mind.  He waited, his cock pressed into me, while I adjusted to his presence.  I looked up and got lost in Devon’s dreamy dark blue eyes.

“Fuck me,” I said softly.

He did it any way but softly.  Devon pounded me into the divan like he only had moments left to live.  Apparently I wasn’t the only one worked up by his foreplay.  Oh, goodness, so
this
was what it was like!  I spread my legs as wide as I could, a numbness forming by my toes.  My fingers ran along his strong arms, but not for long.  I was all-consumed with mashing my hips to his, and welcoming Devon inside me.  My hands fell listlessly.

“Kiss me,” I whispered sweetly.

“No,” Devon groaned.  Fucker.  “Balls deep,” he growled.  Oh, he was bottoming out.  I felt it.  I also felt his sack fwapping against my ass.  Devon dropped his torso, and his full weight, on top of me.  He was big.  He squeezed the air out of me.  We were one.  I was happy.

Devon’s hand gripped my butt cheek and he drove into me at a new angle, and with a new ferocity.  I could feel my crescendo rise once more as his fat cock drilled along my slick walls.  Each stroke was a travelogue in ecstasy.  It was such a patent and deliberate trek, my journey up Mount Orgasm.  I sat back and enjoyed the journey, my ass going numb.

“You’d better come for me,” Devon growled into my ear.  “Orgasm.  Now.”

Ugh.  What?  Talk about a bump in the road.  If I could come on command I certainly would have done so sooner.  His command shuttled me right back to the beginning of the journey up Mount Orgasm.  Why did he have to say that?  Okay, maybe I wasn’t all the way back at the beginning.  Halfway back, at worst.

“Fuck me harder,” I whispered.  Devon’s hand closed on my butt cheek so forcefully he almost made me come by that alone.  He knew how to speed me along to the station.

Well, he might have known how, but I he didn’t seem to be interested in doing it.  With utter dismay, I could feel his ejaculate spewing inside me, and his penis throbbed and pulsed.  No, no, no, wait!  I was almost there!

Devon stopped pumping me.  My body screamed out for more, but he froze in time and space, like he was trying to remember a thought, and then he came back to me, settling upon me, like a deflating hot air balloon.

“Goddamn!” Devon cried.  “You are one hot tamale.”  He draped heavily on top of me.  Was that it?  No!  Pushing with my hips, I desperately tried to squeeze some pleasure out of him—pleasure for me—but Devon was softening, and there was no pleasure to be derived for me that way.

Devon pulled out.  An aching emptiness rose up within me.  Devon pulled himself up and off me, while I stared at him. 

“Don’t go,” I said.  He acted as if he didn’t hear me, and rose off the divan. 

Where was he going?  I wanted him to hold me, at least.  Our closeness had been entire, and I didn’t want it to end cold turkey.  I wanted to wallow in it, and daydream while stroking his body.

Devon stood by the bay window and tucked his cock back into his tuxedo pants, and then zipped up.  I yearned to reach out for him, to pull him close, and to enjoy our heat, and the moment.  Oh, baby, we were one, completely unified, only moments ago—don’t pull away!

“Devon, please,” I whispered.

Devon, suddenly deaf, stepped over to the sideboard and checked his tie in the mirror.  I was lying there naked, in a puddle of our juices, and he never even took his clothes off.  Hold on.  Was he getting ready to go back downstairs?  Really?

“You’re leaving?” I asked.  Suddenly I felt very naked.  I stretched over to the back of a nearby chair and grabbed a shawl that was hanging there.  I clutched the shawl over my nipples and privates.  “But I haven’t…you know.  Stay with me.  Hold me.”

Devon stepped toward me, and my heart leaped.  He reached out to me, and I fought my urge to reach back to him, only Devon never made it to me.

He snatched up the three hundred dollars that had fallen out of my bodice.  “I deserve this, for fucking you so royally,” Devon said.  He put the money in his pocket.  I didn’t care.  It was the only money I had in the world, and I let him take it.

As he moved to the door, Devon said, “You should have come when I told you to.” God. I felt lower than dog shit.

“How do I look?” Devon asked.  “I have to get back to the party.  Thanks…what was your name again?”

I turned my back on him.  I didn’t want him to witness my shame.

“Just go,” I said.  “Go!”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Alone in the Bride’s Chamber, I stared out the bay window.  The ocean waves crashed in the distance.  I could hear the faint remains of the ocean’s roar through the glass.  Wrapping the shawl around my shoulders, I sat on the divan and watched the waves roil.  My bridesmaid dress lay on the floor.

The waning sun glinted off the water’s surface, and the sky ran from light blue, to dark, to deep gray near the horizon.  A few of the B&B employees walked about on the lawn around the wedding gazebo, and some of them carried coolers and bags of charcoal down the cliff stairs, heading to the beach.  They looked like they were setting up for a party down below.  Even though they were working, they looked pretty cheerful.

I didn’t feel cheerful.  I felt empty.

Devon’s cock had felt so good inside of me, and he evoked untold numbers of new and wonderful sensations in me.  I loved being crushed by him, and plowed by him—it all seemed to satisfy the very root of my DNA.  Why did he have to spoil it by running off like that?  He didn’t even remember my name, once he’d gotten what he wanted.  What a jerk.

And I let him come inside me.  I shivered at the thought.  I was a jerk, too—a bigger jerk.  No, wait.  I was a fool.

The door to the Bride’s Chamber creaked open, but I didn’t turn my head.  I was afraid to.  Despite how annoyed I was with Devon, there was a good chance, if that were Devon coming through the door, I’d drop my shawl and jump his bones.  My self-respect had vacated the premises.  How ridiculous was I?  My desperation shamed me, but if tempted, I knew I would succumb to it and rush to Devon, begging him to like me, to want me, so I didn’t turn my head. 

“Hey Amber,” Brenda said.  “How are you doing?”  Oh, it was Brenda.  Only then did I notice my hands were shaking.  I was both relieved and disappointed that it was Brenda, and not Devon, who came through the door.

“I brought you something,” Brenda said.  She clicked the door shut behind her.  “Are you okay?”

“It’s so cold,” I said, still staring out at the ocean.

“Well, honey,” Brenda said, putting the tray she carried on the sideboard, “you don’t really have any clothes on.  It’s not really cold in here, but you are just about naked.”  She turned and looked at me.  Her nose wrinkled up.  ”By the way, you…uh…kind of reek of sex.”

“I don’t care.”

“I brought you a G&T and a cup of coffee,” Brenda said.  “Didn’t know which you might want.  Devon is down there smiling like the cat that ate the canary, so I put two and two together.  Figured you might want something.”

“G&T, please.”  I held out my hand, unable to look Brenda in the eye.  I was ashamed.  It was just a simple assignment, a task.  All I had to do was have sex with Devon.  But I was ashamed.  I was ashamed that I’d given so much of myself so easily to Devon. 

“Whew!  Maybe I should have brought two G&Ts.  Put your shawl back on, honey.  I thought you were cold.”  Brenda sat down next to me and lifted the shawl.  I pushed her hand away.

“I’m not cold,” I said.  “Devon is.  I opened up to him, Brenda.  I let him inside me, figuratively and literally.  When I looked into his eyes, I thought we were sharing something profound.  Turns out, we weren’t.  I’m a fool.”

“Oh, honey.  But did it feel great?” Brenda asked.  “It’s been a long time since I’d been with Devon, but he was always a good lay.”

I stared at the ocean and answered in monotone, “Yeah, it felt great.”  When I turned to finally face Brenda, my lip was quivering, and my eyes welled up.  “He just up and left.  He rejected me!  I mean, I wasn’t expecting a marriage proposal or anything, but some common human decency would have been nice.  He was such a jerk!  A hot jerk, but a jerk nonetheless.”

“Most men are jerks,” Brenda replied, giving me a knowing look.  “Especially the Roofie Monsters.”

Ugh.  What was it with the bridesmaids?  Everything came back to those roofies.  The roofies were an entirely different situation.  Cassie, Brenda, and Donna couldn’t hurt like I did now.  What did they know about this kind of rejection?  They didn’t even know what I did to them until months later.  The roofies were an entirely different situation.  But still, what was the use of arguing?  I’d do my penance, and it would be over.  All I’d be left with is the emotional scars of having been rejected by a man like Devon.

“I’m sorry,” I said to Brenda, but I didn’t mean it.

Brenda didn’t reply.  Perhaps she could sense I didn’t mean it.  Whatever.  At least I said I was sorry.

“He came inside me, Brenda.  I let him do that.  In the moment, I thought we were as close as two people could get.  I remember thinking I want to feel this way in bed with someone else all the time.  But it was an illusion, or a lie I let myself believe.  We weren’t close at all.  Devon asked my name when he left.  He didn’t even remember my name, and he…had…been…inside of me.”

Brenda patted my knee and said, “Suck it up, Buttercup.  You have two more groomsmen to do, and the day is wasting away.”

When did Brenda get so heartless?