58 comments/ 118688 views/ 20 favorites Ex-Rated Wedding By: be0wulf As anyone who has ever been divorced will know, you can get rid of the wife, but you can't get rid of the life. Looking back on it, I realize now that my biggest judgment error had been becoming friends with my wife's relatives. After Jane and I divorced, her brother and sisters were very supportive of me, in a patronizing, head-patting sort of way. I had to endure months of whispers in hallways, basset-hound expressions and deep, meaningful exchanges that involved double-hand holding and the inevitable "So how are you…really?" It was exhausting. Jane on the other hand was deeply resentful that her family maintained contact with me. She assumed that her family simply enjoyed my company more than they enjoyed hers. In that respect, she was absolutely correct. I didn't divorce her because she was a warm and wonderful person with an unending capacity for joy. And she was no nicer to her family than she had been to her husband. In fact, other than my father, who still saw Jane as a delicate six-year-old who needed to be sheltered from the world, Jane's family were neither surprised by our divorce, nor especially upset over it. In fact, they were always wondering just what had kept it going for six long years. I myself had no answer to that. Our lack of children could be connected directly to our lack of sex. Our lack of sex was directly linked to our lack of compatibility, and our lack of compatibility could be directly linked to the fact that Jane was a gloomy, self-centered pessimist and I had married her because I was young, impressionable and easily bullied by demanding women. I'm loveable that way. My friendship with Jane's family continued and I felt on pretty solid ground as long as they didn't outnumber me three-to-one in any given situation. For about a year and a half this worked out well. And then Jane's brother Tom decided to get married. He and his fiancée Anne had been together for a few years and they had finally come to the conclusion that since their relationship had held up well thus far, it was time to completely screw it up. I felt that marriage was something every man must go through at least once in their lives, like a hazing ritual or a vasectomy, so I held my tongue. Shortly after this announcement, Tom cornered me at the mall. "I know you've had a rough go with our family and that things are still a bit rocky between you and Jane, but I really want you to stand up with me at my wedding. I know you're uncomfortable doing this, and I understand if you don't want to." Well, of course I'd be uncomfortable and I was glad that he understood why I simply couldn't. I was about to say this when my mouth, without any prior consultation with my brain, opened up and started saying the weirdest crap. Crap like, "Of course I'll stand up at your wedding" and crap like, "This is your big day, don't worry about me." and crap like, "I'm honoured that you asked me, Tom." That kind of crap. My brain then turned to my conscience and asked if it was okay to tell my fist to punch me in the mouth. Despite the fact that I was going to my ex-wife's brother's wedding, I had a plan. I figured that all I needed was a hot date and a lot of liquor. Unfortunately, Tom had scheduled his wedding on the holiday weekend in May, the first long weekend of the summer. In Canada, people simply don't go to weddings on the May long weekend. They go up north to open things up, like their cottages, their trailers, their tents and several dozen beers. And that was exactly what just about every woman I called up was planning on doing. My plan of having a hot date was slipping away. My mom said that she would go with me, but I don't write stories for that category. And so I prepared myself for an incredibly excruciating night of smug scorn from my ex-wife, surrounded by exs, and me in a tuxedo that was, to be honest, rather ghastly (I thought only rabbits in Disney movies wore waistcoats) and shoes that were pointy and shiny. The wedding was being held up north, about a three hour drive away. I was duly impressed by the location. The hotel was situated at the foot of a scenic bay and the sparkling blue water added a lovely backdrop to the landscape. I was startled at the view from the lobby, looking out onto the wide expanse of water, with great white clouds piling up on the horizon and sailboats skidding across the waves. I checked into my room and threw open the curtains. I had a spectacular view of the wide expanse of glistening parking lot, with a great Chinese restaurant looming majestically up on the horizon and two broken down pick-up trucks rusting away in quaint silence on the pavement. The church was right across the street and the reception was being held right in the hotel itself. It was a cozy set up. I showered and changed and headed over to the church for the rehearsal. The rehearsal provided a lovely prelude to the horror I was about to experience. As if I needed to rehearse being uncomfortable and out of place, something that normally comes naturally. The bridesmaid that I was assigned to was the bride's sister Carla. Carla was a particularly startling creature, and I use both those words in a negative sense. Where Anne, the bride, was athletic, fair haired and of a pleasant disposition, Carla was shorter, round and had all the charm of a dock worker. She had burgundy hair and wore eye mascara like a drilling rig wore oil. She had a face full of hardware that looked not so much as she was trying to make some kind of a statement, but more like she was storing other people's earrings for safekeeping. She scowled at me and kept looking over at her boyfriend, a scrawny Goth with hair like an aloe plant and skin like vanilla pudding. He and Carla were in the midst of a fierce competition as to who could wear the most eye makeup and it appeared that he was winning. As we prepared to go down the aisle, I offered my arm to Carla and she hooked me with a linebacker's grip, hauling me forward with the determination of a drunk heading to the bar. All I could do was hold on and try not to look too intimidated. I noticed that those who were standing around watching were desperately trying not to laugh at Carla, not out of any sense of decorum or politeness, but out of genuine fear. It became apparent that the family was desperately afraid of her, and for good reason. Her grip alone told me that she was a force to be reckoned with. After the rehearsal, we sat around a lovely restaurant and I watched as the family toasted each other with increasing drunkenness and affection. In fact it was turning downright sloppy. I sipped at my beer and watched as others kept coming around and slamming new drinks on my table. I was developing a small parapet of bottles which to be honest; I was feeling quite safe behind. I had my own little brown-bottle fort. And then Tom stood up for his sixth swaying speech of the night. With wild gesticulating arms, he appeared as if he was about to part a sea of some sort. But to my horror, he turned his bleary eyes and settled them, with some difficulty, on me. "I'd lank to thike, er...like to thank, my good friend Mark for being an usher at my wedding." There was a smattering of applause from those who were not exactly completely passed out. "This was a big sissision...decisson...deshison...deal for Mark as the family here is no longer his family but his ex family thanks to Jane my ex-sister. I mean, Jane HIS ex-sister...er...ex-wife. Right? Jane isn't here tonight." Tom took a deep breath as if to gather his thoughts, looked at me with a smile and sat down, satisfied. There was a pause and then a few people clapped and raised their glasses in my general direction. It was a truly heartwarming toast. I retreated back behind my fort and remained there for the rest of the night. The only other footnote came from Carla, who leaned over and told me that if I even thought of making a pass at her at the wedding her boyfriend would slash the tires on my car. I looked at her in disbelief. The very idea made me cross my legs in the same manner all men cross their legs when witnessing someone getting kicked in the nads. I told her truthfully that the thought hadn't even crossed my mind. I seriously doubted her boyfriend would ever attempt to slash my tires however. First it would involve actually going outside, something he clearly abhorred, and second, the adventure posed a very real danger that he may break a nail. I arrived at the church the next day completely surrendered to my fate. I saw ahead of me a forlorn afternoon of soulless nodding and smiling like a bobble-head doll in a French waiter's suit. I helped ladies to their seats, talked politely to people who kept mistaking me for a cousin named Alex, whom I learned later had actually died in a traffic accident a few years earlier, and generally kept to myself as much as possible. Finally Jane arrived. I had dreaded the moment, and it turned out to be all I expected and much, much worse. She looked radiant, even beneath her bored demeanour. Her hair was piled up atop her head, accentuating her long, lithe neck. She wore an elegant gown that clung to her form in a most appealing manner and she walked with that same cocky self-confidence that just made you want to slap her. Or maybe just me. Her date was a familiar-looking older man with a bald spot and a nice suit. And by nice I mean normal, unlike the Charlie Chaplin number I was monkeying around in. I was immediately irrationally jealous. It wasn't that I wanted Jane myself; I just didn't want anyone else to have her either. Fortunately, I was spared the acute anguish of having to seat her as another usher took up the task. As I was turning away, I met Ellen, my ex-mother, and mother of the groom. Ellen looked wonderful. She lived for weddings and family get-togethers and she was truly in her element. She wore a stunning silvery dress and blazer which made her graying hair look elegant. I always liked Ellen, and we got on rather well. "Jane does look nice today, doesn't she," she said. "Yes," I replied evenly. "Have you talked with her?" "No, not yet." "Oh," Ellen leaned forward and lowered her voice. "She's still a stuck-up thing." We both laughed lightly. I looked up and caught Jane glaring at us from across the sanctuary. "You save me a dance, young man." Ellen patted my arm and wandered off. The wedding was nice, bland and uneventful. This is pretty much what everyone wants from a wedding. I allowed myself to be hauled down the aisle by Carla, stood with a blank look on my face for about forty minutes, and then allowed myself to be hauled back up the aisle again. After the wedding I noticed Carla and her boyfriend making out madly in one of the alcoves. They looked as if they were trying to eat each other. I shuddered and averted my eyes. I was just about to join up with the bridal party when I felt a tap on my shoulder. I turned around and looked into the warmest, friendliest, softest eyes I had ever seen. Kate, Jane's cousin stood with a great big smile on her face. She embraced me warmly and for the first time all day, I felt pretty good. "You looked great up there," she said smiling, "despite the suit." Kate and I had always gotten along. She and her husband had actually married the weekend before Jane and I, and we always shared a special kinship. Kate was a lovely woman, in every sense of the word. She had long auburn hair, a wickedly sinful smile and a lovely, full and curvy body that I had admired since the day I met her. But most of all, Kate had a sense of humour. She was always laughing, smiling, smirking or grinning, and her personality was infectious, lighting up the smiles of all those around her. Even the dour Jane would occasionally crack a grin when Kate was around, but when Jane smiled it reminded me of the old adage that dogs smile just before they bite. Jane's moods were governed by Newton's Third Law, that every action has an equal and opposite reaction. As happy as she would be at Kate's, that would be as angry and irritated she would be at me immediately upon returning home. It got to the point where I would equate a visit with Kate to a heavy drinking binge: as good a time as I was having, there was always hell to pay afterwards. "So, where's Craig?" I asked, looking around. "Didn't you hear?" Kate asked. Her smile was still there but her eyes had hardened somewhat. "Craig and I are divorced." "What?" This shook me terribly. Craig and Kate were my ideal; they were the kind of couple that I aspired to. If Craig and Kate couldn't make it what hope was there for the rest of us? "Craig discovered that he loved me, but he loved fucking his legal associate even more." "Craig?" I couldn't believe it. Craig was such a...regular Joe. He was self-deprecating, modest, relaxed and frankly one of the most asexual people I had ever met. I couldn't picture him even being interested in sex, let alone being interested in it with someone other than his wife. My image of Craig was that from the waist down he was appendage free, like a Ken doll. "Hard to believe, isn't it?" "How long ago was this?" "Oh not long after you and Jane split," she said. "And speaking of Jane..." Kate looked over my shoulder and I turned to see my ex walking towards us. "Hi, Kate!" Jane said brightly. She turned her cool gaze on me, "Mark." "Hey, Jane." I tried to keep my voice as even and casual as possible. "Kate, I bumped into Laura..." Jane started. I was not worth much more than the most perfunctory acknowledgment. I looked at Kate and nodded at her. She smiled brightly and I walked off. As I did I passed by Jane's date and was startled by how familiar he looked. He had to be at least twenty years older than me. I decided to introduce myself. "Hey, I'm Mark," I said, shaking his hand. "I know, I'm Dr. Westland, Jane used to work for me at the hospital." "That's where I knew you from!" I said, "I've met you a few times. I'm so sorry, Dr. Westland." "Well, it was a while ago," he said. An uncomfortable silence ensued. "So, you and Jane..." I opened. "Yes, well, we kept in touch after she left the clinic. We went to a few functions together and things sort of progressed from there." It was obvious that Dr. Westland was not exactly comfortable discussing this with me. "How long have you two been seeing each other?" "Let's see, I guess since Christmas." "Ah. That's great." I decided to switch topics. "Didn't you used to drive a Bricklin?" "Yes, I sold it to a collector a few years back," he said. You could tell he was relieved to be off the subject of Jane. "I kind of miss it now though." "Thinking about getting another exotic car?" "Actually, I hadn't been until just a few weeks ago. I noticed an ad in a trade paper for a Qvale Mangusta. I've been looking into it." Just then I noticed Jane coming over. She was very concerned that the good doctor was talking to me without her supervision. "Oh, Donald, I see you're getting reacquainted with Mark." "Yes. It's been awhile since I've seen him." "That's wonderful, but if we're going to get to the reception on time, I need to get back to the hotel fairly soon." She gave Donald a meaningful look. "You're staying across the street?" I asked. "Yes, we are," Donald said. I smiled. The dinner didn't start until 6:30 and it was just after four. I could see why Jane would be in such a rush, what with that long walk and all. Jane looked at me with a steely gaze, the gaze that would make me whither when I was married to her. I still felt myself drawing back from her slightly. "I need to get freshened up," she said evenly. "Oooh," I grinned. "I get it." I waggled my eyebrows at Donald but he was a bit slow to catch it. Jane however was not. "Really, Mark," she huffed. "You never change." The dinner was the stamina Olympics. Events included who had the most stamina behind the podium and who had the most stamina to listen to the person behind the podium. By the end of the dinner, I called it a draw, a very painful and exhausting draw. I had no idea that Tom's life was so utterly and despondently boring, but if one were to gauge him by the stories told about him he would rate just above an actual rock and a fair bit below say, to pick an object at random, a napkin. A typical story about Tom, and I will paraphrase and condense as I don't want my own story tainted with his blandness, would go like so: Tom was born, and that simple fact brought people around him a great deal of happiness, and if not actual happiness, than something similar to contentment. Or perhaps a sense of agreement, such as "Oh, Tom's been born, well, I have no problem with that." From there the story winds down and ends with the mandatory, "And here we are today." Now Anne was no slouch either. Her own mother was nodding off during the enthusiastic speeches about the bride. Oh she had done some marvelous things...such as...went to school and got straight A's, which was unbearably exciting. And then she graduated and got a job at a dental clinic where all kinds of amazing and hilarious stories just completely failed to materialize. Apparently Tom and Anne met in the most predictable manner possible. He was a patient of all things, and she was, quite surprisingly, the dental hygienist working on him. He somehow managed to ask her out and they dated for an excruciatingly long time before he asked her to marry him. Then they were engaged for another excruciatingly long time before finally setting the wedding date. And three years later..."Here we are today." As the speeches wound down and the dance began, I found Tom and congratulated him. "You're talking as if you're heading out," Tom said. "Well, I was thinking that I'd have maybe another drink and turn in for the night." "You can't do that, my mom will kill you. You have to dance with her." Tom turned to me, "look, I know that this is uncomfortable for you, what with everyone being an ex-relative and all, but to my mom and to me and to just about everyone but Jane and my dad, you're still family. We really want you to stay. I really want you to stay." The sincerity in his voice was touching, I had to admit. So I just nodded. He patted me on the back and I headed for the bar for a much needed drink. I found an empty table and sat down, scanning the room. It was a good-sized party and with the family dances being done with the dance floor was jumping. I slipped my jacket off and threw it over the chair next to me. Jane picked it up. "Mind if I sit down?" "No." I lied. "Where's the doctor?" "Donald? He's getting me a drink." She sat down next to me and looked around the table. "Where's your date?" "Ah, well. What with it being a long weekend..." "You came stag?" "I'm secure enough in my manhood to come alone." "Been doing that a lot lately?" Jane asked with a grin. "Oh, the wit. It's the wit I miss the most." "I'm sure it is." Just then Donald arrived with a drink for Jane. He seemed a bit reluctant to interrupt us but Jane pulled a chair out for him. As he sat down, Jane slid her chair close to his and snuggled up against him. "I think it's a shame that you couldn't find a date for the wedding. You look so forlorn over here by yourself. Perhaps one of the bridesmaids is single?" There is a moment in every man's life when he finally receives a feeling where he doesn't care what others think anymore, where he realizes that he is comfortable and confident in whom he is that he no longer lives by the approval of others. I wish I could have experienced that feeling at that moment. I picked up my beer bottle which was still two-thirds full and drained it. "I need another drink." I said and made my escape. I hovered around the bar, hoping that through some tragic accident, a chandelier would come crashing down on my ex. There were no chandeliers in her vicinity so that would have been quite a feat, but we cling to our dreams no matter how irrational. Ex-Rated Wedding Finally, I prepared myself to go back into the fray. I had to go back to that table…it was where my jacket was. We males are a territorial breed. Just as I was taking a preparatory breath, I felt a hand on my elbow. I turned and was relieved to see Kate standing next to me. "It is so good to see you, Mark." "It's fantastic to see you, really, fantastic." I said. I wasn't kidding either. "So tell me what you've been up to." I ordered her a drink and we walked back to her table. I brought her up to speed on the incredible changes that had occurred in my life since I had last seen her. It took about four minutes. Telling her about my new cat took most of that time. I wasn't completely pathetic, but I was certainly on my way. "And what about you?" I asked. "What have you been doing?" "Oh, after the divorce, I decided to take some ‘me' time. I took a leave of absence from my job and traveled around Europe for a month. I ended up in an artist's colony just outside of Nice, France and I learned how to paint landscapes. It was a fascinating experience." Her conversation continued along this same route: fascinating things in exotic locales, breathtaking insights into herself as a person and a new understanding about the world around her. I decided not to remind her that I had gotten a new cat. Kate then leaned in close to me and whispered, "You know, I've always had a bit of a crush on you." She reached out on touched the tip of my nose with her finger. "Need a drink?" "Eh?" I shook my head slightly and looked down at my untouched bottle of beer. "No I'm fine." "Well, I'll be right back. Don't you go anywhere?" I sat riveted to my chair. She had a crush on me? I rationalized that she must have been teasing me, or kidding. There was no possible way that a woman of Kate's charms and obvious worldliness would find me remotely… "Hey, man!" I looked up at Tom, standing over me, swaying slightly. "Hey, Tom," I said. He slumped down on a chair next to me. "You are the greatest guy, you know that?" "Thanks, Tom," I sighed. I had found that drunk people were always much more amusing when I was drunk myself. Otherwise, they more or less irritated me. But this was the groom and I was willing to put up with a lot from the groom. "I'm serious, man. You are so good to be here, what with that witch of a sister of mine…" "Tom, don't say that about your sister." "Ah, it's true. Even my old man's finally coming around. He used to blame you for the whole divorce thing, but then he had a big argument with her and now he thinks you're a great guy for putting up with her as long as you did!" Tom was talking pretty loud and people at nearby tables were smirking. "That's good, really Tom." I tried tactic number one. "So where's the honeymoon?" "I'm not kidding. And my mom, man, she sticks up for you all the time. I think she has the hots for you Markie boy." This was said blessedly, a bit quieter. Tom poked me lightly on the chest. "You're a stud, man." "Yes, well…" It was time for tactic number two. "I need to go to the bathroom." "Okay, I'll talk to you later. Don't go anywhere!" I went down the hall and into the bathroom. When I returned to the hall, I saw Jane and Doctor Don sitting at Kate's table. I decided to go and sit back at my original table but it was occupied by a group of overweight ladies in ghastly hats. I then caught Ellen's eye and she got up and came over to me. "How are you doing, Mark? Are you enjoying yourself?" "Yes, I am. The wedding was lovely." "Yes, it was a beautiful service." She looked around me a bit. "Where's your date?" "Oh, I had a hard time finding one for the long weekend." "So you're here all by yourself? Oh, come and join us." "That's okay, Ellen, I was just going to get a drink." Just then the room dimmed and a slow song came on. "Why, Mark, I do believe you owe me a dance." "I do, indeed." We danced as well as we could on the crowded dance floor. Ellen talked to me leaning back and looking up at me. The outfit she was wearing gave me a surprisingly attractive view of her cleavage. I had always known that my mother was a very sensual woman. I had repressed it, but it was the truth. She kept herself in good condition, dressed well, and always looked stunning. "You know, I've missed you terribly, Mark." "I missed you too Ellen." "We used to have such delightful talks." She was right, we did. I would often go over for family gatherings and Ellen and I would end up chatting in the kitchen over coffee. She was easy to talk to and a good listener. She always gave me the impression that she was intensely interested in everything I had to say. I wanted to tell her about my cat. She of all people would appreciate it without trying to one-up me with painting lessons abroad. "You know, John never thought you were good enough for Jane." "Well, apparently neither did Jane," I said. "When he found out that you two were getting married, he became very critical of you. And then with that fiasco of the Daughter-and-Dad weekend…" "Oh god…" I remembered it well. Jane and her father had held a long-standing tradition that they went away together on the first weekend of June, just the two of them. They would usually go to Toronto or Boston or New York and tour the sights. I don't know how the other two siblings felt about this, but I was under the impression that Tom especially just liked having the old man out of the house for a weekend. The first year we were married, my parents celebrated their fortieth wedding anniversary which fell on the first weekend in June. My family put on a big celebration and Jane told her father that they would have to reschedule their weekend for another time. Well, he went into a fury, accusing me of trying to drive a wedge between him and his daughter, saying that I was exercising my authority over his independent little girl. After that episode, our relationship deteriorated. "My marriage with John has pretty much gone downhill since you and Jane got married," Ellen said. "Even after the divorce it became pretty obvious that Jane was the center of his attention and not me. When she moved back, I felt as if the two of them were constantly conspiring against me. John and I have separate lives now. We just happen to share a house and a last name. Tom and Kelly are my kids, Jane is his." I looked at her and saw her eyes were shiny with tears. "I'm sorry to hear that Ellen." "Well, if anyone would understand, it would be you. I remember, at the end, just before the divorce, you and I talked. At Christmas, remember?" I nodded. "You told me that being single and lonely was hard, but being married and lonely was heartbreaking." She put her head on my shoulder and sighed. "I know exactly how you felt, Mark." She gave me a warm hug as the song ended, but the hug seemed to linger a bit, and she pressed herself against me. She looked up at me, slightly embarrassed. "Well, that was hardly appropriate, was it?" Her voice was a throaty whisper. "I enjoyed it." I said, seriously. "Mark, often I wished that I were a few years younger. You'd have to watch out for yourself then." "You don't need to be any younger, Ellen. You're stunning just as you are." She smiled sweetly at me and rejoined her family at her table. Another slow song started and I watched Jane and Don leave Kate and head up to the dance floor. "Kate," I said, extending my hand, "would you honour me with a dance?" "I would love to," she said, with that winning smile. We danced close, her cheek brushing mine and talked in quiet tones. "You're a wonderful dancer," she said. "No, I'm not, but it's so nice of you to say." We danced close, not speaking. I enjoyed holding her close to me, and she pressed herself against me in a most delightful way. So delightful, in fact, that I actually had to pull a part of me away from her, so as not to reveal just how delightful I found it. As the song ended we drifted back to the table and sipped at our drinks in contemplative silence. Finally, Kate leaned close to me, her eyes sparkling. "I was wondering, Mark. If things were different, if I wasn't related to Jane or if we met under different circumstances, would you be interested in me as…you know, more than a friend?" My heart suddenly thumped in my chest. I was completely stunned. It was quickly becoming a night of revelations. "Kate, you being related to my ex-wife really doesn't matter to me." "Really?" She leaned back a bit and our eyes met. It was one of those electrical moments, a moment that movie directors feel the need to surge loud swirling music around. "Does me being the ex-husband of your cousin bother you?" "No." She sipped her drink and we just looked at each other. Suddenly Jane and Donald plopped down at our table. "Well, here is where the lonely heart's club is holding their meeting." Jane said with a laugh. Kate's eyes met mine and we shared a smile. "So, Donald," Kate said, "I hear you retired from the hospital." "Yes, finally," said Donald. "And the old adage is true; I'm busier now than I was when I was working full-time." "I bet," said Kate. "You're what, fifty-five?" I almost choked on my drink. "Fifty-seven, I wanted to retire last year, but with all the restructuring going on at the cancer facility, I just couldn't get away." "I think it's great to retire when you are young enough to enjoy it," I said. Kate gave me a sideways glance. "Oh yeah," Donald replied, "I couldn't wait until I was sixty-five. I'd be a broken-down old horse by then." "That's true," said Kate, "and you'd never be able to keep up with Jane, here." Kate and Donald laughed. Jane sat and seethed with a tight smile on her face. "Can I get anyone a drink?" I asked, putting down my empty bottle. Everyone declined and I got up and went to the bar. Halfway there, I felt a hand grip my arm. "What the hell are you pulling?" Jane hissed. "What do you mean?" "Oh please, you two couldn't contain yourselves, could you? Let me tell you something Mark, it is absolutely refreshing having someone mature around for a change. Being married to you was like living my life with a teenager." "There was a time when you said I was youthful and energetic. You didn't mind me being youthful and energetic in the sack." "Don't be crass." "So, is Donald a real Doctor Feelgood in the bedroom?" "Mark, that's none of your business. This may surprise you, but there is more to a relationship than just sex." "Ah," I said, "translation: no." "You are such a pig." Jane spun on her heel and started to walk away, then whirled back. "You know, I thought I could come here and be civil, I thought that we could put things behind us and at least be able to converse reasonably together." "Do you think calling Kate and I the Lonely Hearts Club," I said, "is a good example of civility?" "I was just teasing," Jane said. I smiled at her. She held my gaze steadily for a long moment and then dropped her eyes. "Okay, okay," she said, "I'm sorry." For the first time all evening, I saw a glimpse of the Jane I remembered from long ago. We made our way to the bar and I bought us both a drink. "So, how are things with you and Donald anyway?" "I don't think we have any legs, if you know what I mean. He's a nice guy, but he just isn't what I'm looking for." "Does the age difference bother you?" "It didn't at first, or at least I wouldn't allow it to bother me. I didn't want to be that petty and let something as mundane as age come between me and a good relationship. But after a while, it sort of began to tell on me. We come from different generations, we have different values, different cultural references. And," she looked at me with a sheepish grin, "different energy levels." "Ah." "That's all you're going to say? ‘Ah'?" "Well, it was only natural that you should feel a bit neglected. After all, you were spoiled rotten when you were with me." "You're awful," she said and slugged me on the arm. "That's not what you used to cry out in the dark." Jane laughed and then was silent for a long moment. Finally she looked up at me. "There were times…really hard times, when I wanted to call you and see if we could get together for just one last…you know." "No kidding?" "No kidding," Jane said. "But of course we couldn't. I couldn't let myself call you and you wouldn't have agreed to it." "Oh…I don't know." I remembered some pretty hard times myself. "Well, that way madness lies," Jane said, gathering herself together. "Something like that would open up old wounds, I would think." I looked at Jane and took a drink. I was suddenly thirsty. By telling this story, you just know that someone is going to have sex with someone; otherwise it would be in the non-erotic section (and depending on how well my writing is, it may still end up there). And at this point in the evening, even I figured that at the very least I was going to end up with a solid lead on a future rendezvous. But at the moment, I had no idea who I was going to wind up my night with, if anyone. Just then Ellen bustled up to us with a forced grin on her face. "Mark, Jane, so nice to see you two being sociable." She looked at me with a pleading expression, "Mark, I was wondering if you could help me with a bit of a problem." I nodded and followed Ellen dutifully into a corridor. We stopped in front of a door and she sighed heavily. Behind the door I could hear a muffled groan. I opened the door to the stall in the women's washroom and saw Kate curled up around the toilet. "Kate?" I asked. "Are you okay?" She looked up at me blearily, smiled then dunked her head into the toilet bowl and made some entirely unpleasant sound effects. "I don't think she drinks very much," Ellen said to me in a respectful whisper. "Well, she throws up like a pro," I said. I handed Kate a glass of water and she drank it down with a lopsided smile. "What room number are you in?" I asked. She told me, but added, "I don't want to leave the party; I was just starting to have fun!" "Kate, you ARE the party. Wherever you go, the party follows." I helped her to her feet and Ellen and I supported her weight between us. Carefully, so as not to jostle her too much, we helped Kate up the elevator and into her room. I laid her on the bed and Ellen carefully undressed her while I waited in the front room. After a few minutes, Ellen joined me. "She's already asleep and I put a waste paper basket next to the bed." "Okay." I reached for the door handle, but Ellen's hand rested on my wrist. I looked at her and a long moment passed between us. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to mine in a deep, warm kiss. I was surprised by her response, and even more so by my own. I kissed her back, slipping my tongue to touch hers. She moaned into my mouth and then drew back. "Thank you for making my evening, Mark," she said in a breathless voice. I looked at her and leaned forward and kissed her again, this time with more passion. "My room," I said, my voice muffled by her lips, "is just down the hall on the right, number 330." I broke the kiss and exited out into the hall. Standing in my room, waiting for that knock at the door was one of the longest and most unsettling moments of my life. My mind was whirling with a jumble of thoughts. I could not believe what I had done and what I was preparing to do. If she knocked on the door, a whole new situation would open up. If she didn't, I didn't know how I was going to face her the next day. I listened intently for footsteps in the hall, but heard none. The silence was infuriating. I was listening so closely that when the knock did come it seemed loud and jarring, causing me to jump out of my skin. I opened the door and she stepped in quickly, with a nervous glance down the hall. "We don't have much time," she said lunging forward and kissing me hotly. There was a lot of motion then, her pushing me towards the bed, then her unbuttoning my shirt deftly. In an instant it seemed that I was lying on the bed with my shirt open and my pants down while her hands slid up and down my chest. She was still completely dressed and I reached up and unzipped her dress at the neck. With a shrug and a smile, the dress slid over her shoulders and revealed a silver bra, full and sensual. My hands swept up and cupped her breasts kneading them gently and marveling how they filled my palms. In a moment she had discarded her dress and was straddling me, looking down with an expression that drove me mad with desire. She had a mischievous grin on her face with one eyebrow raised. With a swift, determined motion, she pulled my boxer briefs down over my thighs and wrapped her hand around my painfully rigid shaft. "You're a bigger than I expected," she said looking down. After a bit of awkward wrestling, I managed to get her panties off. I took a moment to look at her. She was fit and curvy, a delightfully full-figured woman with full breasts and flared hips. She was unshaved below, and natural. Her hair down there was auburn with flecks of grey. It was a most erotic sight to me and I felt myself pulse in her palm. "We really don't have much time," she repeated and lay down on the bed. I quickly joined her and she slid her leg over me. She guided me into her and I felt the intense heat as I slipped into her pussy. With one urgent lunge, I was buried deep inside her. I watched as Ellen's eyes closed tight. "It feels incredible," she whispered. "You have no idea how long I've wanted you, Mark." I reached beneath her and grasped her ass, hoisting her up and pounding into her. She began to cry out, a soft but insistent wail that made me increase my tempo. I felt the sweat prickle across my back as I slid in and out of her. She clung to me like a soft fist, and I was lost in the rhythm of our passion. I changed angles slightly so my hard cock was sawing against the top of her slit and sliding across her clit. The effect was immediate. Ellen gasped and cried out loud. In ten strokes she snapped her eyes open and pleaded with me not to stop. "Oh god, oh my god, I'm going to cum, I'm going to...oh my..." and with that she began thrashing around on the bed, grunting and panting. Suddenly she froze and I felt her sex clamp down on me as she shuddered through her orgasm. The feeling was so intense that I felt myself going over the edge. I warned her that I was about to cum and she gave me a most evil smile. I couldn't help but laugh but then I threw my head back, growled loudly and began to erupt within her. We didn't have much time to bask in the afterglow. In a few moments she was up and getting dressed. I helped Ellen back on with her dress. As I stood behind her, pulling the zipper up, she leaned back against me and turned her head. "I can feel you seeping out of me," she said. "It feels so decadent." She swayed out of the room, leaving me with a scent of elegant perfume and sex. I jumped quickly into the shower and rinsed myself off, carefully leaving my hair dry. Stepping back into the party, dressed and refreshed, I glanced at my watch. Forty-five minutes had passed and it had felt like hours. I caught a wicked smile from Ellen who was busily chatting up the guests. With the sudden change in venue, the lights, the music, the relatives...I felt a sudden sense of vertigo. What had just happened between me and my ex-mother felt so disconnected, so unreal, as if it had been just a vivid fantasy... I needed a beer. In fact, where one would do fine, several would do better. As I headed towards the bar, I was headed off by Jane. I looked at her and felt a wave of guilt crash over me. "How's Kate?" she asked. Ex-Rated Wedding "Very drunk," I said. "You're mother was kind enough to tuck her into bed." "Well, I'm glad my mother was there to keep you in line. Who knows what kind of mischief you may have gotten into without her?" I must have blushed madly or something because Jane looked at me with concern. "Mark, are you all right? Perhaps you've had too much as well." "No, it's just quite warm in here," I said. "I need a cold beer." Jane accompanied me to the bar and I bought her a drink as well. "Where's Donald?" I asked. "Oh, poor guy. He's just not used to being up so late. A few drinks tonight just knocked him out. He went up to bed about a half hour ago." "I think I may go to bed myself soon," I said. "Oh Mark, no. The party isn't over yet. We haven't even danced, you know, for old time's sake." We made our way back to the table where my jacket was still slung over a chair. I slumped down and took a long pull at my beer. "I just heard about Kate and Craig breaking up. I was completely shocked." "Yes, it's odd," Jane said, a bit wistfully. "When Kate and Craig divorced everyone was surprised. When we divorced nobody was." I sighed and looked at the droplets of moisture running down the brown bottle. I had the feeling the conversation was taking a turn for the worst. "Mark, was I really that bad?" "Yes," I said, without hesitation. "Well, then why did you ever marry me in the first place?" Strangely enough, Jane didn't seem angry, and this seemed like the exact kind of conversation that she enjoyed really getting up a good temper tantrum over. "I'd have to say...the sex." "Really?" I thought for a long moment. "Yes, I'd definitely say the sex. It was pretty ferocious in the early days." I looked up and saw Jane smiling in an enigmatic way. "It was different depending on what mood you were in," I went on. "If you were in a good mood...and that was as rare as an unarmed Republican, the sex was playful, fun and romantic. When you were in a bad mood...which is to say, when you were...you know: Jane...and you allowed us to have sex, it was raw and aggressive and passionate." I looked up at Jane, expecting to see those fiery eyes burning holes in my forehead, but instead I saw that same enigmatic smile. "I would like to prove to you," she said, slowly, "that I can be raw, aggressive and passionate, as well as in a good mood." A few moments later I was ushering Jane into my room. For a moment I froze and sniffed the air, trying to detect any traces of Ellen's perfume, or the scent of recent sex. I couldn't, but then we weren't lying on the scene of the crime yet. Jane immediately went to work, undressing me. I could only whimper as I watched her undo the same buttons that her mother had undone not an hour earlier. I began to help Jane undress as well, and I found the familiarity of her body, the comfort of her curves, all very erotic. After the rustle of clothing had subsided I found myself between her thighs, touching her in a way that I knew drove her wild. I slid my middle finger deep into her sex, curling it upwards and pressing against the top of her. Then I lowered my lips and clasped her pearly clit between them, worrying it lightly and rasping it with the tip of my tongue. All the while, my finger inside her is pressing and massaging against her. Jane's voice cracked and she began to gasp and pant. "Oh god oh god oh god oh god," she cried, her words coming in sobs. Her thighs clamped around my head and I felt her vibrate as she approached her climax. When her legs fell slack, I stood up and grabbed her hips, roughly turning her over. She smiled softly and allowed me to flip her onto her stomach. I pulled her up on her knees and climbed up on the bed behind her. My hands went to the firm globes of her ass, massaging them and sliding over the taut skin. Jane had a beautiful ass, full and round and firm. She moaned as I touched her. She loved my hands on her body; she loved the simple, luxurious seduction of palm on skin. I pressed forward and my hard cock nestled in the crack of her ass. She pushed back against me, mewling like a kitten as she did. I let my shaft slide up and down the warm crevice and my hands slid up her sides, dipped below and cupped her breasts. As my fingers circled her nipples, she drew in a gasping breath. I pinched her nipples, pressing them tightly in my fingers as I pulled my hips back slightly. I wondered for a moment if I still had my old aim. With a slight searching motion, I felt the head of my cock nestle between the lips of her sex. The heat was almost unbearable. Jane looked over her shoulder at me, her eyes hot with passion. "Fuck me, Mark. Fuck me hard, like you used to." Her words struck a deep chord in me and I felt the lust surge upwards. I hunched my hips and sank my cock deep into her. Jane screamed out hoarsely, and I wondered if they could have heard her all the way down to the reception. I didn't care though; I was lost in my own fire. I began to pound into her, hard and firm, her ass rippling and her body jarring under my assault. My breath was coming in hisses, and I fell into that natural, powerful rhythm. Jane was moaning, crying out my name as I fucked her. And I was fucking her. This was no ‘making love' or even ‘having sex', this was raw and visceral, this was aggression and passion at it's finest. This was fucking. I slammed into her again and again, my lunges tearing gasps from her lips. Our bodies slapped together in applause of lust. Her arousal ran down her thighs and made her skin sleek and moist. And all the time we were moaning and crying out. Suddenly Jane sat up, lurching backwards and driving herself deep onto my cock. My hands grasped roughly at her breasts and she threw her head back. "I'm coming, Oh god it feels so fucking good! Oh my god….oh my gaaawwwddd!" She began shuddering and slamming down on me. She turned her head and pressed her lips awkwardly to mine. "Cum in me Mark, its okay, I'm on the pill. I want to feel you come inside me, please!" She climbed off me and fell back on the bed, her thighs parting invitingly. "I want to watch you when you come." I mounted her and drove myself deep into her. "I forgot," she said between gasps, "how big you are. You fill me right up!" I began to slam into her and she wrapped her legs around me. I lowered my head to her chest and took a nipple between my lips. She cried out and began hunching back against me. The sensations were getting to be too much. I felt the familiar rising sensation and began to pound into her frantically. She began a long, low wail and I felt her begin to climax. At that, I lost it. I looked down at her and told her in a rasping voice that I was coming. Her eyes went wide and she opened her mouth silently. I felt the first spurt pulse out of me and her eyes locked on mine. "Oh fuck, Mark, I can feel it! It feels amazing!" And she threw her head back and began thundering through her own climax. For a long time we lay together, looking at each other. I knew what was going through her mind and the same dangerous thoughts were dancing around mine as well. But the memories of the bad times were too fresh, too insistent for me to be seduced by the promise of anything more. Finally, Jane sat up and let her fingers drift down my body, tickling me. "I need to go," she said, her voice thick and husky. "Yes." She looked at me for a long moment and her mouth opened to say something, but instead she stopped and smiled. I nodded. "I know," I said. "Yes, you do. And that is precisely what aches so much." She left, and the silence and the darkness enveloped me. And for the first time since our wedding day so long ago, I actually missed Jane. Epilogue: Morning spilled into my room with a bright and annoying bustle. I opened my eyes only to close them against the brightness of hot sunbeams slanting across my bed. I threw off my blanket and staggered into the bathroom, naked and a bit raw. Within moments I was standing under a hot, pelting spray, willing it to wash the sins of the previous night off of me. It's not that I felt ashamed, but I didn't feel particularly proud, either. Besides, if Jane ever found out that I had... I shuddered, as if the water had suddenly turned cold. Best not to think about it. I turned the water off and began toweling dry when I heard a knock. Damn housekeeping, I thought as I wrapped the towel around me and padded to the door. I opened it a bit and peered out. It wasn't housekeeping, it was Kate. And for a woman who had up until recently, been making words with all vowels, she looked spectacular. "Uh, hi Kate." I looked down at my towel and gathered it a bit tighter around me. "Sorry, if I knew you were coming, I'd have dressed up a bit." "Oh, I quite enjoy the casual look," she said brightly. "Mark, I want to thank you for looking after me last night. I'm embarrassed as all shit at how I acted. I don't know what happened, one minute I felt fine and the next I was…" She waved her hand to indicate the ‘nextness' of the situation. "Don't think anything of it, Kate. I'm just glad you're feeling better." "I am, I feel fine. In fact, I was wondering if you'd like to join me for breakfast." She glanced nervously over my shoulder. "That is, if you don't have…prior engagements." "No, no. I would love to," I said. "Look, I won't be but a moment, why don't you come in and I'll get ready and we can go to the restaurant downstairs." I held the door and she slid past me, her body brushing quite firmly against mine. I felt my heartbeat jump from easy-listening to alternative instantly. I followed her in, my eyes gazing down over her figure. Her curvy body was silhouetted against the harsh light of the window and I felt my towel twitch. I picked up a pair of jeans and held them in front of me. "What a spectacular view of the Chinese Take-Out!" Kate turned to me and smiled brilliantly, "I've got a breathtaking panorama of the gas station across the street, myself. Pretty as a postcard." I laughed and headed to the bathroom. "Mark." Kate's voice was suddenly insistent and serious. "Yes?" "I didn't really come here to ask you to breakfast." She strode over to me and stood very close. So close, in fact that the swells of her breasts touched my chest ever so slightly. My heart cranked up to speed-metal. "I think we were beginning something last night that we were unable to finish. I was wondering if perhaps we could finish it now." With that she leaned forward and kissed me. I kissed her back and felt her tongue slip between my lips and touch mine. My towel was no longer twitching and what was within was desperately curious to take a good look around. I felt Kate's hands on my shoulders. They were hot and smooth. My own hands still held my towel in place and a pair of jeans. Kate's hands slid down my back and her fingers gripped my towel. In a smooth, slow, but insistent motion, she pulled the towel away from me. I experienced that odd feeling, that slightly emasculating sense that men get when they are naked in the presence of a fully clothed woman. Well, I suppose male strippers don't get that feeling but then, nobody was pushing money into my crotch and well…it hardly matters at the moment. Kate sensed this feeling and she pulled back a bit. Looking down, she began to undo the buttons on her blouse. Watching her bangs fall over her eyes had an overwhelming effect on me. She seemed suddenly shy and vulnerable, looking up at me through her lashes. More of her creamy skin was revealed as she pulled each button open with a maddening slowness. Her cleavage was soft and deep and I felt myself glancing back and forth between it and her deep and liquid eyes. Beneath her blouse she wore a satiny white bra that cupped her breasts and held them up. They were spectacular, full and round and inviting. She allowed her blouse to slip down her arms and off her back with a soft whisper of fabric. It pooled on the floor. She reached out and wrapped her fingers around my hard cock. Her eyes never left mine, not for an instant. "I have a secret," she said. "Remember when you would come over and use the pool? I always sent you to get changed in the downstairs bedroom. Never the bathroom or the spare room on the main floor, always the one downstairs." I nodded; I remembered the bedroom, hastily constructed in the basement, never fully completed. "I used to dash downstairs to the laundry room and peak through a hole in the wall and watch you change." "What?" I asked in disbelief. "It's true, I remember one time, you and I had been flirting pretty heavily in the pool. When you got out to get changed, it was pretty obvious you were aroused. Jane never noticed, she never noticed anything like that. Anyway, you went downstairs and I took up my usual spot in the laundry room. I guess Jane was feeling a bit randy as well that day..." "Oh no," I remembered it well, one of the very few times Jane and I had spontaneous sex. I remembered Jane bent over the creaky bed, biting her lip to keep quiet as I pumped into her. My cock pulsed at the thought of Kate watching us. "You gave her quite a workout. And me as well, I masturbated like a teenager that day and it has fueled my fantasies for many nights since." She began sliding her hand up and down the length of my cock. Her eyes dropped down and she smiled and sighed. "You have such a great cock, so long and thick. I've been thinking about this moment forever..." I reached out and pulled her against me, feeling the softness of her body touch mine. I smelled her hair, a scent of indefinable eroticism. She laid her head against my chest as my hands drifted up and down her back. I found the clasp of her bra and unhooked it carefully. I surprised myself at how easily it came undone; I had fully expected to spend three or four minutes fumbling with it like a blind safecracker. Once free, the bra slid down her arms and her beautiful breasts came into view. They were full and pale, marbled with light blue veins. Each was capped with a tawny nipple, hard and inviting. "You are an amazing woman," I said. "I have adored you from the moment I first laid eyes on you." My hands trembled as I touched her breasts. I felt the heat of them against my palms, the tense nipples pressing into my fingers. "I can't believe this is happening. You are spectacular." Leaving one hand on her breast, I let my other one drift down and cup her full, shapely ass. My lips went to hers and we kissed hotly. With rising passion, I pulled her towards me, my hard cock pressing into her, feeling the smooth fabric of her pants against me. My lips trailed down her neck, nipping my teeth along her smooth skin. She moaned and her hand wrapped around the back of my head. My fingers found the zipper on the back of her pants and I pulled the tab down. Using both hands I eased the slacks over her hips, revealing her satiny panties beneath. The pants joined the blouse and bra on the floor and I felt my cock press against her bare skin. It was intensely arousing and I felt myself throb in response. We embraced and ran our hands over each others bodies, just luxuriating in being together, being able to at last freely explore each other. Each touch or her skin was more erotic and I was quickly becoming lost in lust. Her lips were on my neck, my shoulder, my chest. Her hand was stroking me with long smooth motions. Her other hand was running up and down the line of my spine. She hooked her leg around mine and our bodies melted together. I fell back on the bed and pulled her on top of me. Her full breasts crushed into my chest and her lips found mine. My hands cupped her ass and massaged it through the filmy fabric. I hooked my fingers into the waistband of the panties and slid them down her legs. She obligingly lifted her pelvis to allow me to slide them free. And then we were both naked. She straddled my thighs and sat up. Her pussy was trimmed and neat, the auburn hair enticingly forming a triangle pointing downwards. Her eyes glittered wickedly and she smiled. "There is so much I want to do to you and with you," she said. "But I can't wait any longer." She opened her closed hand and revealed a condom package. With aching delicacy she rolled the condom down my shaft then sat back and admired her handiwork. Then she got up on her knees and hovered over me. "I think we're both pretty ready," she said. She reached down and gripped my hard cock, eased up her hips and pressed me against her hot slit. The moisture from her coated the head and then she began to ease down on me. For a moment she paused, then closed her eyes and dropped violently down on me, swallowing my cock into her completely and knocking the wind out of me. She cried out loudly and I moaned as well. The sheer intensity of heat and the sudden realization that I was finally fucking Kate was almost too much. She began to hump up and down, her body rising and falling in quickening tempo as she gasped and moaned. I gripped her breasts tightly and pressed her nipples between my fingers. She hissed and gritted her teeth as she rode me hard. Finally she fell forward, catching herself with her arms, her hands splayed out on either side of my head. Her breasts dangled above me and I took a nipple in my mouth, pressing my lips hard against it. She began to rock her hips, fucking me furiously, the liquid sounds of our lust filling the air. Faster she went the tempo increasing, our moans and cries intensifying. Suddenly her breathing became erratic, her rhythm failed and she ground herself against me. Her eyes snapped open and she looked down at me with a wild expression. "I'm going to cum, Mark. I'm going to cum, baby." I only nodded, feeling my own climax nearing. I tried to press it down, waiting. "I want to...I want to...oh oh oh oooh..." She threw her head back and wailed out as her hips suddenly slammed down and I felt the head of my cock kiss her cervix. She shuddered violently, the bed shivering beneath us. Her hands balled the sheets up in her fists and she grunted and vibrated. It was too much for me. I told her I was close. "Cum in me baby, cum in me..." I felt sparks erupt behind my eyes and the pleasure within me reared up like a wave. It crested and crashed, my cum throbbing out of me, filling the condom until I felt it would burst under the pressure. Our climaxes lasted forever. She lied on top of me, her body twitching and shaking as aftershocks coursed through her. I felt the thrilling tremors vibrate along my spine as my pleasure subsided. We lay for a long time, then took an amazingly erotic shower where I pressed her against the cool tile wall and fucked her while she wrapped her long legs around me and moaned, biting my shoulder. After that, we air dried naked on the bed. "Mark, let's keep this between us for now." I didn't answer. She turned her head and looked at me. "It's just out of respect. It's still my family. I need to tell them in my own way." "And what about us?" I asked. I wondered if she was trying to let me down easy. "What about us? I expect you over for dinner this evening at six sharp. Who knows? We may even eat." Much too soon, it was time to check out. Kate dashed back to her room to gather her things and I finished packing. As I headed down to the lobby I caught sight of Kate partly obscured behind a potted plant at the check-out counter. Our eyes met as I approached and she smiled the warmest of smiles. I sidled up next to her and put my suitcase down. "Are you okay with this?" she asked. I nodded. Just then, I spotted Tom coming out into the lobby from the opposite side. I left Kate behind her fichus tree and walked out into the atrium to meet Tom. It was then that I noticed Ellen striding up behind him. When she saw me, she smiled bashfully and blushed slightly.