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A Friend of the Bride's

By: reluctant_quill



The music in my studio headphones faded away and I relaxed a bit, finally satisfied. That take had been just what I'd been aiming for. After fourteen shots at that passage, I'd wondered if I was ever going to be able to sing it exactly the way I had envisioned it in my mind. Some of the takes had been very, very close, but I was a bit of a perfectionist.

My producer's mike opened with a click, and I could hear his applause, just as I knew I would. His ear was as finely tuned as mine and he'd heard that I'd nailed it. It always amazed me how he could be as patient with me as he was.

"Great, Tim. You were really on today. We're going to call that a wrap for the weekend. If you keep this up, your next Grammy is guaranteed."

I pushed the microphone away and slid down off of my padded leather stool.

"Thanks Alan. I guess we'll just have to wait and see."

He was probably right, but I still had trouble believing that my fans still be in sync with my eclectic musical tastes. As always, I was taking some risks with this album. Still, I knew I should put more faith in Alan; he taught me everything I know about the business.

"Oh, by the way," he said, "There's a call holding for you. Some girl who says she's a friend of yours from back home." As far as anyone in Hollywood knew, I had no history before arriving in town five years ago. Alan gave me a curious look through the glass.

Me? I wasn't curious about the call – I was scared to death. I'd been dreading this day for a long time and now it was here. Apprehensively, I picked up the extension.

"Hello?"

"Hi, is this Tim Schwartz?"

"No, this is Tim Merrick," I said, trying to conceal the surprise in my voice. Tim Schwartz. I hadn't heard that name in a long time.

"I know, but you used to be Tim Schwartz."

It wasn't a question; it was a statement of conviction. She seemed awfully sure of herself.

"Who is this?"

"Tim, don't you recognize my voice? It's me, Amy Decker."

Oh my God! Amy!

I had known Amy since junior high and she was quite simply the most desirable girl I had ever met. She had been beautiful, outgoing, self-assured and had always seemed to have a crowd around her. Head cheerleader, Prom queen, you name it – she'd been the most popular girl in the school. The problem was that for most of the time she had known me, she would never so much as give me the time of day. It was like I'd been completely invisible to her.

Why Amy treated me that way during those years was no great mystery. During junior high and our first year of high school, I was a short, pudgy nerd – one of the outcast crowd. It didn't help that my self-esteem was poor – the result of a stunningly abusive home life.

I was raised the only child of a drug-addicted teenaged mom and her succession of low-life boyfriends. My grandparents had disowned her (and by extension, me) because of her disgrace. She claimed that all she knew about my father was that she had slept with him at a frat party she'd crashed and she thought he might have been a musician. My mom never tried to hide the fact that she thought getting pregnant with me had wrecked her entire life and how she was sorry that she been too stoned to get an abortion when she could. How I escaped The Clinic, I'll never know. Just lucky I guess.

I had been awkward and painfully shy as a child. The few times during those years when I'd been in situations where Amy was actually forced to speak to me, it felt to me like she was the queen who was being forced to deal with the fishmonger. 

Tonight was the first time she had ever initiated a conversation with me.

"Um. Hi Amy." There was no sense in denying who I was. If she'd managed to track me down here, the gig was already up. But how had she found me?

My life had started to change about halfway through my sophomore year. I managed to get a job that forced me to deal with the public and I soon became more confident in talking to people. I also got my long overdue growth spurt. Unfortunately, while I was now tall and relatively handsome, with nearly normal people skills, institutional momentum kept me at the bottom of the high school food chain.

Amy had been so far above me in the social pecking order that it should have been ludicrous for me to have even contemplated asking her out. Nevertheless, all through our last two years of high school she could count on my finding her in the hall each Friday afternoon and asking her for a date.

Why? I was in love with her, pure and simple. Some strange and inexplicable instinct told me that as unlikely as it seemed, Amy was the girl for me and I was the guy for her. I really didn't care about her popularity or even her unparalleled beauty; there was something deeper that attracted me to her. I was somehow completely convinced that we belonged together. Until I could persuade her, though, I just wanted to be near her. If presenting myself weekly for another rejection was what it took to get her to actually speak to me, that's what I'd do.

It's not that I got off on being rejected. Every time she gently sent me packing I vowed I would never ask her again, but somehow by the next Friday I just couldn't help myself. It was like I was helpless around her – a moth drawn to her flame.

I could feel that flame now, even over the phone.

"So you are Tim Schwartz," Amy asked persistently. God, I was still in love with that voice.

"I was, Amy." I tried and mostly succeeded in keeping the rising excitement out of my voice. "But that's all part of a life that's far in the past. I'd prefer to keep it that way. How did you get this number?"

The first few times I had asked Amy out, she had seemed irritated that one of the 'dweeb-squad' would dare to even approach her, but as I kept it up week after week, I thought I saw grudging respect for my persistence in her eyes. Not that she would ever have said yes, but it had to have been flattering to be asked again and again in the face of such long odds.

At least she was never cruel about it. As a matter of fact, I'd have sworn that she actually wanted to say yes, but somehow just couldn't bring herself to do it. Through it all, though, I was always in awe of her and would have jumped off a bridge for her had she deigned to ask it. Alas, she seemed to have no such use for me.

The real problem with my fixation on Amy was that I could never bring myself to go out with the kind of girls that were actually in my social strata. I don't think I actually have Obsessive Compulsive Disorder, but I do tend to be intensively single-minded at times. As a result, I never even had a date during my high school career.

"Tim," she answered, "I saw your face on a CD at the record store a couple of weeks ago. The beard and mustache threw me, you looked totally different than I remembered you, but I'll never forget your eyes. I've seen you on TV a bunch of times, but the CD really showed the detail. That intense, steely blue stare isn't something you see every day."

I knew it! I should have stood my ground. I had managed to keep my face off of my first two album covers, but for the third, the executive producer had insisted on it. I'd finally given in; hoping that the likelihood of a guy like Tim Schwartz becoming a major recording star was so ludicrous no one back home would make the connection. It had almost worked.

"Your label wouldn't give me any information when I called them," Amy continued, "but they did give me your agent's number. After I told him the story about how I knew you in high school, he gave me this number."

I knew very well that the only reason my agent would breach my privacy like that would be if there were good odds of some juicy publicity for his client. I vowed that there would be nothing for the tabloids resulting from this conversation.

How incredibly wrong I would be.

"Tim, what on Earth happened? You disappear for years and now you turn up as one of the biggest acts in the business?"

The afternoon after graduation, I had left for southern California. I knew that my futile obsession with Amy probably wasn't healthy and I needed to put some distance between us. My mom and her latest boyfriend were on another drinking binge that day and hadn't even made it to the ceremony. No big surprise there. I didn't bother to say goodbye when I packed my meager belongings into my beat-up Buick and headed west.

The first thing I did when I arrived on the coast was to seek out contacts in the shady underworld. The kind of crowds my mom hung out with had prepared me to deal with people like that, even if I had sworn I would never be one of those people myself. Using my new contacts, I spent all of the money I had saved to make Tim Schwartz disappear. If my mom didn't want me in her life, fine, I'd make sure we kept it that way. I was going to erase my first eighteen years as if they never happened. You think I'm callous? I have cigarette burn scars from when I was six months old if you want to see callous.

I suppose I could have just kept a low profile or legally changed my name, but I rarely do anything I'm passionate about halfway. Instead, I did the bit where I assumed a complete new identity - new social security number, fake school transcripts, the whole nine yards. In this day of government databases, that's not as easy as it used to be, but it can be done if you find the right people and are willing to spend the money. I did and I was. 

I worked road construction on the night shift to pay my way through two years of college, striving for a better future for myself. By the time I started my junior year at UCLA, though, I discovered that just being socially awkward wasn't enough to make me a whiz at computer science. I couldn't get excited about any other major, but I didn't want to spend the rest of my life in construction. I hadn't the first clue what I was going to do with my life. 

Add to that, my girlfriend had moved out and rent was two months overdue. My car needed repairs that I didn't have money for and my student loans would come due if I dropped out of the classes that I couldn't afford. Tim Merrick hadn't exactly set the world on fire. Just when things seemed to be at their worst though, I got very lucky. 

I was with some of the guys in a bar downtown, half drunk and up on stage to sing karaoke for the first time in my life – the result of losing a sucker's bet with the crew. It came as a huge shock to the guys – and even more to me – to find that my awkward shyness morphed into complete mastery of the song and crowd the second the music started. I had only sung in the shower before and hey, everyone sounds good in the shower. I honestly hadn't had the first clue that I had that kind of raw talent.

It's a ridiculous cliché, having a big-time record exec out in the audience, but that's the way it worked for me. Two weeks later I was in a studio on a provisional contract, learning my craft. I realize that's not the way it's usually done – I hadn't paid any of my musical dues – but the exec had seen something he'd liked and I became his pet project. The exec set me up with Alan as my mentor and assigned him the task of finding what genre I fit best into. 

I'd always been a huge fan of such diverse acts as Tracy Chapman, Dave Matthews, and Dire Straits, but my biggest influence had been a lesser-known jazz artist named Bob Merrick. I was a huge fan and had even stolen his last name when I created my new identity. His music moved me in ways that were almost impossible to describe, and when my now familiar fusion of pop, jazz and soul began to take form, Merrick's influence was plain to hear.

When my first album went platinum, Alan became a studio legend and the exec got moved up to the corner office. No one was more surprised than me. I got an agent and did a quick renegotiation of my contract. As my record sales continued to rocket upwards and large concert venues started to fill, I got so busy with my unexpectedly successful career that thoughts of Amy and my old life slowly began to fade.

Those thoughts were back with a vengeance now, though.

So what had happened?

"Amy," I answered, "there was nothing left for me back home. I made a clean break and somehow everything just kind of came together for me."

"Wow. I want to hear all about it!"

As always, there was no way I could say no to her. She was warm and friendly and we got to talking as if we had been great pals who had somehow just lost touch since graduation. I was so surprised by the change in her that I just went along with it and we 'caught up' on all of the things that had gone on in each other's lives.

I wasn't one of those spoiled Hollywood flakes who needed a baby-sitter, so the crew just waved at me through the glass as they left for the weekend, knowing that I'd lock up when I left. Alan gave me a big wink and threw me a kiss as he went out the door. He just wouldn't give up hope that I'd come to bat for the other team. I was sure he'd want to hear all about this call on Monday, but I vowed that he'd be disappointed about that too. 

It was completely surreal. As I sat in the eerily quiet studio booth, lit only by the green glow of the exit sign, Amy and I talked for over two hours, but it seemed like minutes. It was wonderful after all these years to finally have a real conversation with her, but the logical side of my mind was waiting for her to get to the part about how she'd taken a blow to the head and woken from a coma realizing that she'd been wrong about me. I wanted to ask her what had caused this radical change, but I was scared that I might break the spell.

"Tim, it's been so great getting to talk to you again, but I have to admit that I had an ulterior motive in calling you."

Oh boy, here it was.

"What is it?" I asked, trying to keep the fear out of my voice.

"Tim, I'm getting married later this summer and I'd like you to come and sing at my wedding."

Oh. 

My heart sank. It sounded like Amy wanted a 'name' singer at her society wedding and I was elected. Damn this wretched business!

So here it was, my big chance to tell her that I had moved on to bigger and better things and no longer worshipped the ground she walked on. I could have honestly told her that I had finally conquered my social awkwardness and had my pick of any number of beautiful, star-struck girls.

So did I get my revenge and tell her where to stick her little wedding? Of course not. I enthusiastically told her yes and cleared that weekend from my recording schedule.

* * * * *

Over the next couple of months, Amy would call me every few days with updates on the planning for the wedding and for my opinions, first on music choices, then later on all kinds of issues. We'd invariably get to talking and run her phone bill way up. I was suspicious at first, but gradually I warmed up to the idea that just maybe she was interested in more than just having a big star show up for her wedding. It seemed like we genuinely connected. I found that despite her popularity in high school, she was actually very down-to-earth. More and more, I came to believe that my instincts had been right – she seemed to be the perfect girl for me. I got to know her far better than I had ever known any woman before and fell in love with her all over again. It never left my mind though, the real reason she had tracked me down.

During our last conversation before the wedding, Amy somehow sounded like she was nervous about something. I asked her if there was something wrong.

"Well, Tim, I'm going to have a big surprise for you before the wedding, but I'm kind of anxious about it."

"A surprise? Can you at least give me a hint as to what it is?"

"No, but I think you'll like it."

* * * * *

I flew back into my old hometown the day before the wedding rehearsal. Amy lived in Boston now, but the wedding was here on the Gulf Coast where the rest of her family lived. The news of my new identity had reportedly spread around town, but the major media hadn't picked it up yet.

I was a bit nervous about my seedy past becoming public, but my mom had passed away from a heroine overdose eight months before, leaving the biggest reason for my identity change moot. The only reason I'd even known she was gone was that the 'return to sender' on the Christmas card I sent her was in someone else's handwriting this time. She had never been much of a mom to me, so I'd been surprised by how much the news had hurt. They had buried her without me.

I would gladly have given up my fame and fortune to have a real family. My mom was the only family I'd ever had and I'd found out early that none of her white trash relatives wanted anything to do with me. I sure wouldn't approach them now – I'd found that having money affects the way people act around you. I wasn't going to buy their love.

I'd had no luck creating a family of my own, either. None of the girls I'd dated before my big musical career got under way were the kind of women that I'd want to settle down with. Since then, half the women I'd been with seemed to want to latch onto me, but the curse of my fame and fortune was that I could never be sure that they weren't just after my money.

That left my father, but I doubted that even my mom had actually known who he was. If she had, the secret had died with her.

As the once-a-day puddle jumper turned onto it's downwind leg before landing, I noted wistfully the beautiful private jet parked at the charter terminal. That was exactly how most of my peers in the industry would have arrived, complete with an entourage, but I just couldn't make myself spend that kind of money.

Sure, I had that kind of money, I had recently finished a world tour supporting my third number-one album and my investment portfolio had done superbly as well. I could have afforded to retire for the rest of my life in that kind of style right then, but I just couldn't see myself as the kind of person who deserved to be pampered like that. I recognized that it was shades of the poor self-esteem that had haunted me all my life, but I was powerless to do anything about it.

Truth to tell, I didn't see myself as a star either. Even with all the crazy fans, the groupies, the fawning record executives and concert promoters, I still saw myself as the same old Tim, the one who longed for a simple middle-class lifestyle. You know the cliché – nine-to-five job, mortgage, loving wife, two point three kids and a dog. Pure heaven. True, it's human nature to always want whatever it is that we don't have, but I had never asked for all this Hollywood high-roller crap.

The cab got me to the hotel just in time to meet up with the guys for the bachelor party. I recognized several of them from high school and I was worried about their reaction to me. Back when we were in school I was the dweeb they all ignored, but now I was this big international sensation. Mercifully, they took the middle road and treated me like one of the gang. It felt great to be able to let my hair down and relax. I had a good time quaffing a half a gallon of Schlitz, doing shots, trading filthy, perverted jokes and sliding dollar bills into g-strings. The guys seemed to take a liking to me and invited me to play nine holes with them after the wedding rehearsal.

During the last of numerous trips to the urinal, one of the drunken groomsmen, Steve, even let slip to me that Amy's fiancé had slept with one of the bridesmaids at a Christmas party last winter, just a couple of weeks before getting engaged to Amy. Knowing what I did about the groom's background, this didn't surprise me at all. 

As far as I can remember, everyone seemed to have a great time. The next morning though, I was regretting the party a bit. My head was pounding, my eyes were bleary and I wanted to curse whatever moron had decided to schedule the rehearsal for ten in the morning.


A Friend of the Bride's



I hoofed the two blocks from the hotel to the church. The walk helped and by the time I got there I was feeling a bit better. The rehearsal wasn't due to start for another hour, but since this was Amy's wedding I'd wanted enough time to work out all of the details with the organist. I was looking for him when I heard a familiar voice behind me.

"Tim?"

I turned around and for the first time in over five years, I looked into Amy's gorgeous face. I gave her a big smile.

"Hi, Amy!"

"It's so good to actually see you again!" she said, surprising me with an unprecedented hug and a peck on the cheek.

I automatically hugged her back, feeling her long-desired body up against mine for the first time. She felt sensational, just like I'd dreamed she would.

As always, Amy was stunning. She had matured over the last five years, becoming even more beautiful, if that was possible. Tall and blonde, with nicely rounded hips, a narrow waist and full, high breasts, she could have been a supermodel if she hadn't decided to spend the last five years getting a degree in psychology.

As we stepped back out of our quick embrace I could see that something big was on her mind. I had never seen an embarrassed look on her face before, but I was seeing one now. Without another word, she took my hand and led me around the corner, down the hall and into an empty Sunday school classroom, closing the door behind us. I didn't have the first clue what she was up to. She took both of my hands and looked me straight in the eye.

"Tim, I have a huge favor to ask of you. It's so big that I've spent the last two months working up the nerve to even ask."

Wow, I would have thought that asking a guy you'd blown off for years to fly out and sing in your wedding would have been the ultimate in chutzpah. This next one must be huge.

"Amy, you know all you have to do ask," I told her gallantly. "I'd always do anything for 

you."

Sucker. I realized that even now I was still circling her flame. As always, I was helpless to stop myself.

She nodded. She obviously knew me only too well. 

"It's Clint. He's almost everything I've ever wanted in a man. He's handsome, smart, driven and he's a huge success as a lawyer."

"He sounds like a great guy," I said, managing to keep the last lingering traces of jealousy out of my voice. "So what do you mean by 'almost'?"

She took a deep breath. I could see in her eyes that what she really wanted to do was turn around and run, but she stuck it out. It was good to see her thrash around on the hook for once.

"It's our sex life. In public Clint is loving and attentive, but in private he's a total dud as a lover." 

Whoa. I wasn't certain I wanted to hear this and I couldn't believe she would share something so personal with me of all people. She was looking at me expectantly, though.

"Amy, I'm sure that if you just give him some time, he'll come around," I assured her, not knowing what else to say. This whole thing was just weird.

She nodded. "That's what my friends say, but I've tried to get him to be more passionate since we got engaged a year ago and nothing's changed."

It went through my mind what her 'favor' might be, but I put the perverted thought out of my mind. I still had no clue as to why she was telling me all this. Did she expect me to go and give Clint some sort of Dr. Ruth-type advice? Hell, I was just a singer. Amy was the one with a degree in psychology.

"What can I do to help, Amy?"

Her voice softened to a whisper and she hung her head, unable to even meet my eyes.

"Tim, just once, before it becomes adultery, I want to feel that kind of passion. You're the one man in the whole world that I can trust to not go blabbing about it."

Wow, when she'd said she had a surprise for me she hadn't been kidding! The previously discarded perverted thought burst back into the foreground of my mind as she went on.

"I've also heard that you really know how to treat a girl."

Oh God, not that stupid People magazine profile again. I knew I'd never live it down. They hadn't managed to crack the secret of my mysterious past, but they'd talked to the one big name pop singer I had dated and she had gushed to the interviewer that I was the most accomplished lover she'd ever had. It was completely ridiculous of course, but we had the same agent. I'd bet money he put her up to it. Now there were rumors that I was a finalist for that idiotic "Sexiest Man Alive" magazine cover. Just great.

But I still couldn't believe this was happening. After so many failed attempts to date Amy, it had taken me years – and moving halfway across the country – to get over her. Now here she was, throwing herself at me only twenty-four hours from her own wedding! I could understand now why Amy had been nervous about telling me about my 'surprise'. I didn't know what to say and I'm sure my face showed it. 

Her eyes were begging me now. "Please, Tim. Your constant devotion to me for all of those years didn't go unnoticed or unappreciated. You've been my gallant knight forever. Will you do this for me?"

Would I? Wow, that was a good question. I had wanted to be with her forever, but things had changed. Even though I hardly knew Clint, it wouldn't be sporting to bed his fiancé now. Sure, he'd slept with one of the bridesmaids, but that had been before he had proposed to... hey, wait just one second!

"Amy, how long did you say you've been engaged?"

Amy looked puzzled. "Since last summer, but we only announced it in January."

That rat! Clint had already cheated on her. I was guilt-free now.

"Amy," I told her, "there's nothing I'd like to do more." Her relief was palpable.

"Clint and I have to meet with the photographer for a while after the rehearsal, then everyone thinks I'm going shopping with a friend this afternoon. Can I come up to your room instead?" she asked, cutting to the chase.

I gave her my spare room key and a brotherly kiss on the cheek.

"Room 256."

She gave me a big hug then hurried out into the hall and out of sight, looking for Clint I would assume.



After she left, I sat down on one of the little plastic kiddy chairs and reviewed the whole unbelievable encounter in my mind. It had been almost too much to absorb.

I couldn't believe my luck. I had come here because I could never tell her no and now it looked like my reward was going to be a sweet one. I hadn't even bothered fantasizing about such an occurrence because it would have seemed so far-fetched.

Now, however, my lusty, obsessive mind kicked into high gear. Maybe there was more than just sexual incompatibility between them. Their whole relationship might just be as fragile as an eggshell. There were still twenty-eight hours until the wedding and I might just be able to convince her that I was the man she belonged with.

Buoyed by my sudden optimism, I headed out into the hall with a new outlook on life. I was looking for the organist when I came around the corner into the foyer and saw Amy again.

She was talking with a group of family and friends and the groom was just walking in from the other direction. Amy had told me that Clint was in his early thirties, a member of a famous Massachusetts political family, and had just made full partner in a prestigious law firm back in Boston. No big surprise there – Amy was always a high achiever and would expect no less in a husband. 

She had also told me that he was a handsome fellow, but I'd realized at the bachelor party that her words hadn't done him justice. Clint must have been about six foot two and had a face that could have made him a leading man out in my new hometown. He also had the body of a linebacker. He carried himself with the confidence of a man who knew exactly who he was and where he was going. A true man's man.

I knew all that and still thought I had a chance at stealing her away, but what happened next stomped my new-found hope right back down into the dirt.

As he entered the room, he gave Amy a dazzling smile, took her in his arms and gave her a kiss that probably made most of the watching women swoon. Amy returned his kiss with apparent enthusiasm. This was the first time I had seen them together and it was a revelation to me. They had to be about the most perfect couple I'd ever seen. The thoughts I'd harbored for the last few minutes were reduced to mere wisps, blown away by the power of that display.

I slipped right back out the doorway, hoping that neither of them had seen me walk in. I'd have died if Amy had caught the jealous look that I'm certain was obvious on my face. 

* * * * *

I'd just finished my sound check and a quick run-through of the song with Bill, the organist and amazingly irreverent friend of Amy's family. I was sitting up front next to the organ, trying to keep a low profile when the rehearsal started in earnest. The wedding party staggered up the isle, two by two. From the weary expressions on the faces of the fairer sex, it was a good guess that last night's bachelorette party had been a roaring success too.

In a dramatic contrast, the church looked absolutely amazing. Amy had gone first class with the preparations for the big event. She had told me over the phone that the groom's family had insisted on contributing a bunch of money toward the effort, but I hadn't realized the scope of the project. These nuptials would rival the glitziest of the Hollywood weddings I'd been to. The cold stone walls of the sanctuary were brightened with huge, colorful banners, the century-old stone floors had been buffed to a mirror shine and there were enough strategically placed flowers to shame Queen Elizabeth's royal gardener.

There was a low murmur of activity as photographers, caterers, florists, decorators and the like buzzed around, making ready for tomorrow afternoon's big event. At least they stayed out of the main isle. A withered old woman was directing traffic, holding each couple at the entrance until the preceding couple made it to the chancel steps.

I hadn't met any of the girls yet, but Bill was helping me out with names while playing the entrance march. I was trying to take my mind off of my woes by attempting to match a face to the name Steve had dropped.

"That's Heidi there. She's Amy's roommate from Boston," Bill noted.

Heidi was very attractive in an Amazon-looking sort of way, but not the one. I was amazed at Bill's ability to play the intricate processional, watch the proceedings and carry on a casual conversation at the same time. His touch on the keys was highly skilled, but very natural. I could have brought this guy on tour with the band.

"That one's Susan, Clint's secretary. It caused a bit of a stir when he asked Amy to fit her in to the wedding party. I get the distinct impression that Amy doesn't like her much."

So this was the traitorous nymphomaniac. Amy had good instincts for who her friends were. Susan was a gap-toothed redhead who looked as if she would be facing a life-long battle with her weight. All I can say is that the groom must have been wearing beer glasses at the Christmas party. His taste in women had obviously improved since he had gotten engaged to Amy.

Other than that and the sheer scale of this event, it was all pretty common wedding rehearsal stuff. Not that I sing at a lot of weddings. As a matter of fact, this was my first.

I was waiting for my cue to stand up and do my thing, but what happened next changed my notion of romantic attraction forever. I saw the woman that the god's had created just for me – and no, forget the lead-in – it wasn't Amy.

A slim brunette stepped into the sanctuary's doorway on Steve's arm. I was immediately rocked to the core by my desire for her. What did Mario Puzo call it in The Godfather when Michael Corleone gets his first glimpse of the Sicilian girl? 'The Thunderbolt'? Well, I had been struck by The Thunderbolt. I was flat knocked senseless by this vision in faded blue jeans.

It wasn't love at first sight. It was more like love, lust, protective urges, desire to raise kids with her, curses that I hadn't meet her the day I was born, and a sudden hope that there was a heaven so that I could spend the rest of eternity at her side. You know, that kind of thing.

"Who is that woman?" I managed to croak to Bill, the desire obvious in my voice I'm sure.

"That's Amy's great-aunt," he deadpanned. "She's helping to direct this show. Nasty old crone if ever there was one. I wouldn't have thought you'd be hot for her." 

"No," I said, his humor temporarily lost on me, "the brunette."

"Oh, her. That's Carlotta. I don't know a whole lot about her, just what I've heard through the grapevine. Evidently, she was Amy's best friend back in college and she lives out in LA. Kind 'a cute from this angle, isn't she?" I was so taken with her that the convenient fact that she lived near me went almost unnoticed. I just nodded in response to his oddly worded question.

Cute she was, though not truly beautiful in the modern supermodel sense. She was too short and had too much of a baby face for that. She was perhaps five foot three and very slightly built with slender hips and rather small breasts under her conservatively cut long sleeve blouse. She exuded that clean, honest girl-next-door feel though, and her hair was pulled back into a casual ponytail, a mild fetish of mine. 

What really struck me to the core though, were her deep brown eyes, even from across the length of the sanctuary. So expressive, so open – I was immediately lost in them. I suppose that most men wouldn't have given Carlotta a second glance – thirty seconds before, my description of my own dream woman would have been radically different. That old standard of beauty had been thrust aside now though. Carlotta was absolute, devastating perfection.

When the crone released them, Steve started escorting her up the isle and the unprecedented feeling only got stronger. The way she moved, the obvious shyness in the way she smiled and spoke to her escort, the way the late-morning sunlight streaming in through the stained glass windows highlighted her long, dark hair, it all made her completely irresistible to me. If I'd actually believed in such things, I'd have had to say it was downright supernatural!

Without moving her head, she glanced over toward me and our eyes met for the first time. I watched as she gasped and caught her breath. For a long moment we stared openly at each other before she shyly looked away. In that moment, I had seen all I needed to see. The connection was two-way; she had felt it too. She actually stumbled for a second and clung to Steve's arm for support, so I knew it wasn't just in my head.

Carlotta and Steve went their separate ways at the top of the chancel steps; Steve toward me and Carlotta over to the other side. I was almost in a panic. I mean, what are you supposed to do when you absolutely know you've met the woman you were born to spend the rest of your life with? This rehearsal was going to seem like it was eight hours long!

But as she turned to face the pews, Bill's odd reference to her beauty from a certain angle suddenly made gruesome sense. From where I was sitting, clear over on the side of the sanctuary, I had only seen her from the right. What I hadn't seen was shocking in it's incongruity. The left side of her face didn't even remotely belong with right. Carlotta's cheek and temple were covered in thick, discolored scar tissue. The ugly mass ran well up into what should have been her hairline and down her neck under the collar of her blouse. Her left ear was a ragged stump.

For just the barest moment I felt a horrified look involuntarily flash across my face. I quickly got myself under control and brought back the smile, but it was too late. She had seen it. Her shy smile disappeared and the hurt and pain that came over her expression nearly broke my heart. Oh no! I wanted to jump to my feet and run to her and tell her that no, no, that's not the way I felt. But to my everlasting shame, I didn't. I needed a minute to sort out just what I was thinking.

"They say Carlotta was in a real nasty car accident last winter," Bill said in answer to my unasked question. "Third degree burns, compound fractures, internal injuries, you name it, she had it – and in bucket loads. Supposedly the paramedics didn't think she'd even be alive by the time the helicopter reached the scene." He sighed. "A darn shame, I'd say. She's such a pretty little thing. I heard she's taking time off from the reconstructive surgery to be here."

I just nodded, unable to speak.

I was torn by my conflicting emotions. I had waited twenty-three years to meet the woman I was born to be with, but seconds after I'd found her I'd discovered that she was horribly disfigured. To compound things, I'd stupidly let her see my fleeting expression of revulsion. I loathed myself for my visceral reaction to her ordeal, but emotions are a difficult thing to control. I knew I still loved her with an intensity that would have startled me even two minutes ago. Her injuries had just caught me by complete surprise. 

All the while, my eyes never left Carlotta. At last she peeked a glance back toward me, and I gave her a big, apologetic smile. She didn't smile back – not exactly – but I got the distinct impression that she was taking my apology under advisement. 

At that moment, Carlotta turned her attention back to the sanctuary entrance as Amy's father escorted the her up the isle. My eyes followed hers.

Her gorgeous face lit up with a broad smile as her dad handed her over to the groom. The handsome hunk walked her up the stairs to the alter and the pastor started going over the vows to make sure they had things worked out to everyone's satisfaction.

At last it was time for me to sing and I started into the requested 'All I Ask of You", from Amy's favorite musical, The Phantom of the Opera. It wasn't my usual kind of material, but I gave it all I had, my eyes never leaving Carlotta. She timidly glanced at me a couple of times and I could tell that she knew I was singing it just for her. I would have liked to sing the whole thing, but Bill and I cut it off as planned, halfway into the first verse. She didn't look my way again.

At last, Amy and The Hunk went down the isle together, followed by the rest of the wedding party. I hurried down the side isle, intending to catch Carlotta in the foyer. I was desperate to meet her and apologize, profess my undying devotion, ask her to marry me and a million other things, but the crone intercepted me before I could get there. She wanted to discuss which door I would use to enter and exit and exactly where I would stand – all stuff I had already worked out with Bill.

While I was trying to extricate myself, I glanced around, looking for Carlotta. There she was, in the foyer's doorway with her back to me, talking to Amy. I caught Amy's eye and she winked at me. A few seconds later, Carlotta turned her head to look at me with an unreadable expression on her face, then turned away and resumed talking to Amy. They both drifted out of my sight.

Finally, I was able to convince the crone that she needn't worry about my part of the wedding and I rushed into the foyer to find Carlotta. She and Amy were nowhere to be seen. I searched everywhere to no avail. I finally found out from Amy's mom that Carlotta had said she wasn't feeling well and had caught a lift back to the hotel. I was out of luck.

Somehow, though, it never occurred to me to stand Amy up. I was so conditioned to putting her first that the thought never entered my mind. I'd told her I'd be there and that was that.

I found Steve and begged off of golf, grimacing and claiming a migraine.

When I got back to my room, I filled the ice bucket with hot water from the bathtub faucet, placed it on the nightstand and dropped in my bottle of massage oil to warm. I also placed a condom in the drawer next to the Gideon's Bible, should it be necessary – the condom that is. There was nothing the slightest bit Holy in what we were about to do. What had possessed me to agree to this insane rendezvous?




A Friend of the Bride's



Preparations now ready, I kicked off my shoes and socks and lay down on the bed for a moment. My mind was racing and trying to deal with the events of the last three hours. As excited as I was about what was to come, I felt a nearly overwhelming sense of guilt. Maybe a little of it was on behalf of Clint, but most of it was over Carlotta. There was no mistaking what had passed between us and how I felt about her. There was no way I should be having these kinds of feelings toward Amy now, yet here I was just a couple of hours later, eager at the chance to make love to my old obsession. I was still trying to sort it out when the fatigue of the late night party and my early wake-up call caught up with me.

* * * * *

I gradually became aware of something soft and silky being draped across the upper half of my face. I instinctively reached up to brush it away. A small, smooth hand caught my wrist.

"What the?"

"Shh, Tim. Let's leave that where it is. It's best if you don't actually see me. You can honestly tell them you never saw me this afternoon if anyone asks you about this later."

"Okay," I stammered as the hands tucked the ends of the cloth securely under my head. They soon reappeared at my waist, quickly undoing my pants.

"We have to hurry," she said, "I'll be missed if we take too long."

She pulled at my waistband and I lifted my hips. In one incredibly fluid motion, she pulled my pants and boxers off and I heard them rustle to the floor. The bed moved and I could feel her kneel next to me, taking my raging erection in her hands.

"Oh my God, Tim," she exclaimed with awe in her voice, "I've never seen a cock anywhere near as huge as yours. I've got to have you in me right now."

I could feel her swing her leg up over me and press her improbably wet sex against the bulbous head of my manhood. With a mighty thrust backwards, I felt her stretch to near the ripping point and she plummeted the full fourteen inches until our pubes mashed against each other. 

Immediately, she lifted back up until only my head was embedded in her hot, fleshy tunnel. She plunged back down and this time I met her halfway, thrusting up hard. We met with a mighty slap of firm flesh. Again and again, we thrust together until I could feel myself building toward a mighty climax.

Something deep in my subconscious, though, told me that I shouldn't let myself come – I somehow knew that it wouldn't be wise under these particular circumstances. I fought down my inhibition though, and felt myself pass through the point of no return.

"Oh God, Amy, I'm coming!" I cried out, beginning to pump huge gouts of boiling hot semen into the deepest recesses of her body as we strained together.

Unaccountably, she stopped and sat back, pinning my hips to the bed. The cloth was ripped away from my face and I looked into her eyes.

I had called her Amy, but it was Carlotta. 

At least I thought it was. The scar tissue now covered her entire face in a horrifying mask. Only her beautiful deep brown eyes had been spared. As they looked down on the revulsion on my face, I saw a tear escape and run down the monstrous moonscape of her cheek. 

I had hurt her again. Her eyes were so sad. So incredibly sad.



I jerked awake, curling into a fetal position and crying out, first in abject misery and then in fearful disorientation. The last couple spurts of semen added to the gooey mess in my pants as I finished ejaculating. 

I finally realized that I was alone in the cool darkness of my hotel room.

Despite the temperature, I was dripping with sweat and felt foul. I stripped and headed for the shower. Turning up the heat as high as I could stand, I closed my eyes and let the sharp needles of spray knife into my skin, wishing that they would excise the shame and revulsion I felt for myself.

What had I been thinking, agreeing to sleep with an almost-married woman when I had just found the love of my life? I resolved that I would turn Amy away when she arrived. This time I would finally tell her no. I was Carlotta's alone.

The bathroom had filled with steam, even outside the glass tub enclosure, by the time I grabbed the thin cake of hotel soap and began to wash the sticky mess from my crotch. It didn't take too awfully long – only in my wet dreams am I hung like a horse. I had worked up a good lather and was turning toward the spray when I heard a nervous giggle from the other side of the glass.

Instinctively, I covered myself with my hands as my eyes popped open. Amy was just stepping out of her lacy white panties. They joined her bra, dress and pumps on the tile floor. She wore nothing but a shy smile and an obscenely large diamond on her left hand. She looked back at me and I could see the courage it was taking for her to be so brazen with me.

Despite my shock, I couldn't help but notice how incredibly gorgeous she was in the nude. Any remaining baby fat she might have had back in school had disappeared and she had the body of a gymnast or skater – well muscled, but in a delightfully feminine sort of way. Her nipples were hard and erect, standing out proudly from large areolas on decidedly larger than gymnast breasts. There wasn't even the slightest hint of a line anywhere on her lightly tanned skin. A tanning salon must have been involved, I guessed.

"Hey," she said with a shy grin, blushing crimson, "you're supposed to be saving that for me!"

Before I could even collect my wits enough to protest, she slid the door open and stepped in with me. My resolve to send her away melted like an ice cube on a hot tin roof.

Amy stepped up behind me, reached around and cautiously took my flaccid penis in her hand as the water carried away the last evidence of my earlier embarrassment. Trying to rekindle my resolve, I turned my head until I could see her face out of the corner of my eye.

"Amy, I gave it some thought and I'm just not sure this is a good idea. There's someone else in my life now and I really don't want to hurt her."

Amy paused for a moment and I could see her work up the courage to persist in her passion quest.

"You won't hurt her if you never tell her. We'll keep this our own little secret. God knows nobody's going to hear about this from me."

But I knew that I'd know.

"This isn't particularly easy for me either," Amy continued. "You probably think I'm a slut for cheating on Clint, but the truth is he cheated on me during Spring Break this year. I'm really not a spiteful type of person, but fair is fair."

"Amy, I would never think of you as a… as a…" I somehow just couldn't say that awful word in reference to her.

Amy's hands never slackened in their explorations and despite the best of my intentions, I was hardening again rapidly. She pressed up closer behind me and I could feel her nipples pressing their wet hardness into the flesh of my back. This was so incredibly sensual that I knew if I didn't get rid of her right now, there would be no stopping us.

I gently turned to face her, intending to insist that she leave, but as I opened my mouth to speak, she covered it with hers and her arms tightened around me, pulling me into glorious contact with her firm, wet body from thigh to chest. I groaned as her tongue slipped between my lips and began to explore. Almost of it's own volition, my tongue met hers and slowly at first, I began to return her kiss. Her lips were soft velvet and I probed deeply.

I pressed the full length of her wonderful nude body against mine. I had dreamed of doing this for so long that I might have been afraid that the reality could never live up to it. Instead, the actual feel of Amy up against me was better than I could ever have imagined.

If there is a man on this planet who could have pulled away from her under those circumstances, I'm pretty sure he'd be more interested in Alan than Amy. Seemingly within seconds, my resolve crumbled and was washed straight down the drain. My Carlotta wasn't forgotten, but I had wanted Amy for a decade and now, just this once, I was going to have her. I'd deal with the shame and guilt later.

Amy was very nearly my height, and our bodies meshed together perfectly. I kissed her hard now; exploring everywhere I could reach. This time it was Amy who groaned. I grabbed big handfuls of her nicely muscled behind and pulled her in hard against me, grinding my erection against her belly. Her hips ground back against mine, almost frantic now.

Instinctively, I was about to guide her to lift a foot up onto the tub rim so I could plunge my greedy manhood right in, but I somehow summoned up just enough resolve to avoid entering her, if only for the moment. Maybe I'd feel better about this later if I could satisfy her in other ways.

My mouth left hers and I began to kiss along her jaw, fighting my baser instincts and working to slow this whole thing down a notch or two. It seemed to work because her grinding motion slowed, then stopped, as she seemed to devote her attention to what my lips were doing.

Amy's fingernails dug into my back as I sucked her earlobe into my mouth and nibbled on it gently.

"Oh God, Tim, that feels so good," she said with a shiver. "How did you learn to do that?"

I treated that as a rhetorical question. It wouldn't have been polite to give her an honest answer.

I worked my lips down to the beautifully defined hollow at the base of her throat and lapped at it gently as she shuddered. Her long, graceful neck would have been a sculptor's dream, with its fantastic detail and lovely proportions.

At last I slid down and nestled my face in between her wondrous breasts. I could feel their considerable weight and firmness against my cheeks as I nuzzled them. I'd dreamed of doing exactly this with her since puberty, and at last my dream was reality. They were as perfect as I had imagined.

At last I chose one and began to circle it, kissing along the juncture underneath, where it met her chest. I circled up under her arm and then across the top, well above her nipple until at last, slowly, I arrived back at my starting place between her breasts. After the briefest of pauses, I retraced my path, this time just fractionally closer.

"Oh God, Tim, I can't take it. Please don't make me wait!"

I paid absolutely no attention to her, taking all the time in the world. I was in the zone now, my initial rush of mad excitement having abated. After two more laps, each tighter than the last, Amy felt to me like a bundle of frayed nerves, single-minded in her wish for me reach the goal. I flicked my tongue quickly across her rock-hard nipple – just once – and she jumped and yelled out loud. I did this several more times on the last lap and with the last one she managed not to jump. I rewarded her by sucking her nipple into my mouth.

I might not have believed it had I not been there, but Amy climaxed, just from my mouth on her breast. I'd never had a girl do that before. Her climax wasn't a huge one, but feeling it made my erection surge against her naked thigh and I just couldn't help what happened next. I moved my hips back and forth just slightly and the wet friction of my flesh against hers took me right over the edge. I fought to keep some semblance of control as I turned my hips slightly and quietly shot my load onto the back wall of the tub enclosure. 

I was amazed to have come with so little provocation. That hadn't happened since the time a flag woman from the construction site had taken pity on me and invited me over to her place in the morning after work. Her compassionate eye had picked up on the fact that despite the banter with the other guys, I was so inexperienced with women that I was to ashamed to even ask one out.

It had been my first time alone with a woman and I spurted all over her bedroom carpet just from her pulling my boxers down over my knees. Fortunately, since I was only nineteen years old, she was able to take my cherry just a few minutes later. Lashawna's ebony skin had felt like soft leather and she must have been at least twice my age, but I'll be forever grateful to her. She was extremely patient with me and every day after work for several weeks, she showed me everything she knew about what pleases a woman. I was eager to learn and worked hard to please her. A boy couldn't have had a better teacher.

Now, I took as much of Amy's breast into my mouth as I could and worked my tongue over her nipple, alternately licking, sucking and nibbling as she shook with her release. I don't think she noticed my little spurting incident.

At last Amy seemed to recover and I headed south, giving her navel a good tongue reaming as I ran my hands up and down her backside, from the hollow behind her perfect knees to the graceful curve at the small of her back. She turned the shower head to hit the wall and the deflected spray kept everything warm and wet.

Without warning, Amy abandoned all modesty, climbing up on the tub and wedging her feet onto the edges. She leaned back against the end wall and spread her legs wide, inviting me to hurry and reach her delicious center. As my mouth drifted lower, kissing its way across her clean-shaven perfection, I began to gently massage the inside of her thighs with my hands, starting near her knees and working my way inward. My intention was that my mouth and hands would arrive at the same time, but as my fingers began to caress the marvelous flesh just inches from her bare lips, she reached down and gently eased them away. I looked up in surprise. Had I done something wrong? Her face was unreadable.

"Please, Tim, no fingers. I just want to feel your amazing mouth."

Well, okay, I could be flexible. I placed my palms on top of her thighs and picked up again where I had left off. At last my lips found her labia. Even with the cleansing mist of the warm water falling around us, I could smell the sweet bouquet of her sex. 

Amy's lips were swollen and firm, parting with the first gentle touch of my tongue to reveal her marvelous secrets within. I ran my tongue lightly over them from top to bottom. I turned my head slightly and sucked a lip into my mouth, working it with my lips and nibbling on it gently. She tensed and I felt her hands hold my head. She didn't pull me away or press me down on her; she just moaned and let me continue. At least with everything being soaking wet, my trademark beard and mustache didn't seem to be tickling her.

Ever so slowly I nibbled my way up to her clit, teasing her little nubbin out of its hood with my tongue. She gasped as I sucked it in between my lips, and then let it go. I teased her like this for a while, repeatedly sucking it in, then letting it go, fucking my own lips with her rapidly expanding clit. Her breath was coming in ragged gasps. Finally, I slid the tip of my tongue downward between Amy's lips and plunged it into her opening as deep as I could reach.

"Oh God!" she screamed as I explored her tightness for all I was worth. Then I opened my mouth wide, taking as much of her sex into my mouth as I could and running my tongue firmly over every lovely feature, time and time again.

"Your mouth! Your mouth!" she sobbed as I gave her all I had. "Oh God, Tim, your mouth!"

This time I could read the signs and felt the imminent onset of her orgasm. I firmly held her knees in place, keeping her thighs spread open wide as she exploded into her climax with complete abandon. I didn't let up a bit, ravishing her as she shook with her release. She tried to squirm away, but she was trapped against the wall and I showed her no mercy. I held her firmly and sucked her clit back into my mouth, sucking and tonguing it unmercifully. 

Amy screamed and then kept screaming as I took her ever higher. I knew I was probably overloading her senses, but I still didn't stop. I wanted her to feel what she had turned down for so many years. She was going to remember this orgasm for the rest of her life.

At last I relented and quit stimulating her, just holding her clit soothingly between my lips. Amy slowly came down off of her peak, finally pulling my face away from her abused clit. The friction of her nub slipping out of my mouth made her flinch. I turned my head, resting my cheek against the top of her mound, and felt her hands press me in tight.

"Jesus, Tim!" she gasped. "I had no idea that such a thing was even possible."

"I hope you enjoyed it."

I grinned up at her, gazing into her gorgeous blue eyes through the valley between her perfect breasts. They were rising and falling rapidly, but eventually her labored breathing eased.

"Well, I guess I did enjoy it a little bit," she finally said with a big sigh. Seemingly recovered now, a devilish gleam appeared in her eye. "That's exactly the kind of thing I've been missing with Clint. I just had the feeling that you'd be able to do something like that."

"Pleased to be of assistance, Ma'am," I drawled, with a crooked grin.

"I could do that kind of thing with you all day, Tim, but I think it's time to return the favor."

She stepped back down and pulled me to my feet in front of her. Slipping her tongue into my mouth, she took my member in her hand, stroking it lightly and rubbing the head against her belly. I nearly jumped, astounded to feel that it had already recovered.

Amy kissed me deeply, and then began to kiss my chin, my cheeks, my neck, and then down my chest. I felt her hand on the inside of my knee, guiding me to open my legs to her. I did and immediately felt her soft hand firmly rub up and down my inner thighs. Her hand cupped my scrotum, gentle now as she explored my testicles, at almost the same moment as her mouth reached the tip of my raging manhood. By the way that she began to kiss and run her tongue over me, I could tell that she had much more enthusiasm than experience, but it still felt incredible.

She sank to her knees in front of me and at last I felt her lips close around my greedy flesh. She began to slowly work her way down my shaft, experimentally taking me to the back of her mouth. She tried to take me deeper, but gagged slightly. Even this felt heavenly. She backed off until only my head was encased, then took me in again. Her rhythm was slow at first, but she gradually picked up the pace as she gained confidence. I reached down and took her head in my hands, not forcing or even guiding her. I just wanted to feel her motion. 

Amy went faster and faster, caressing my balls and inner thighs with her hands as she went. The sensations finally became so intense that I had to grab on to the top of the shower doors and the handicap rail for support.

I'd always been a gentleman in this position before, allowing my partner to set the pace, but the intensity of what I was feeling finally became too much. Almost involuntarily I began to thrust into her mouth, just a little at first, but then with more authority. The sheer audacity of the idea of having my high school fantasy girl in my shower servicing me this way had moved me far beyond the realm of my normal self-control. Amy placed her fist around the base of my cock to prevent me from thrusting too deeply while the other grabbed a big handful of my butt cheek, preventing me from bouncing her off of me. She was gamely holding on for dear life because I was like a madman now, pounding her mouth at blurring speeds. Inevitably, I felt my climax well up inside me.

"I'm about to come," I managed to gasp in warning. 

She didn't move away, but pursed her lips even more tightly around me. This was finally too much and I erupted. I could feel the first hot jet of my seed splash against the back of her mouth.

"Oh Jesus, Amy!" The rest was unintelligible, even to me. I'd needed this so badly that the reality of it was almost too much to stand.

As the second burst raced down my shaft, she tried to take it, but it was finally too much for her and she leaned way back and let go of me entirely. Amy watched with a look of wonder as my fluids pumped high in a ballistic arc, gush after gush, falling in thick ropes onto her chest. At last my eruption was spent and the final remnants dribbled down the underside of my shaft. She leaned back to me and gingerly took me back into her mouth, not sucking or licking, but just gently holding me there in her warm confines as I came back to my senses.




A Friend of the Bride's



"Oh my God, Amy," I finally managed, gathering just enough strength to take her hands and bring her to her feet. "What kind of witchcraft are you practicing?"

She cuddled up against me and I could feel the slipperiness of my issue as her chest rubbed against mine. She moved back and forth, spreading the slickness around between us. I had never been into cum games, but somehow this felt incredibly sensual. She tipped her head up and kissed my lips. I could taste the salty-sweet flavor of my semen on her tongue. We shared it until it was gone.

Finally she answered my question.

"Witchcraft had nothing to do with it, Tim. I've just wanted to do that for a long time."

"Well, okay, if you say so, but I've never had anyone make me loose control like that before. I hope I didn't hurt you."

"You certainly took me on a wild ride there, but it was great. I'm flattered that I could bring that out in you."

She stepped back from our embrace just a bit, grabbed the cake of soap and began to gently cleanse my chest. When she finished, I took the soap and returned the favor. When we were both clean, I turned her and spooned her back up against my chest. I wrapped my arms around her, my hands automatically cupping her full breasts, still holding the soap and rubbing her with the slippery lather.

"That feels really good," she said, wiggling her butt cheeks a little against my rapidly softening member. I leaned back against the shower wall and just basked in her magnificent glow.

I found that my soapy hands were, seemingly of their own volition, caressing her lower and lower until now they were only a few inches above her luscious mound. I was eager to explore her there. Suddenly, her hands were on mine again, keeping them away.

"What's wrong, Amy. Don't you want me to touch you there? I promise I'll be gentle."

"Oh, I know you would be Tim, but I've got a little secret that I think you're going to have a hard time believing."

"Don't try and tell me that you've had a sex change," I joked. "I've already been down there and your equipment is one-hundred percent female – right from the factory."

Amy's voice was dead serious and more than a bit nervous.

"No, it's something even more unlikely than that."

She paused for a moment. I felt her take a deep breath, then go on. 

"Tim, the truth is, I'm a virgin."

"Bullshit," I blurted out. Amy had dated half of the football team at one time or another, and she and Clint had been together for a couple of years. If the guys at the bachelor party were to be believed, Amy's fiancé was dozens of women past being a virgin.

"Tim, I know it's tough to believe, but it's true. I always had this crazy dream when I was a little girl about having the most perfect white wedding. It's not like a religious thing or anything – my mom and dad probably just read me Cinderella and Snow White too many times," she said with an embarrassed grin. "When I got a little older, my dream grew to include the perfect wedding night."

"Meaning losing your virginity on your wedding bed?" 

"Exactly. Eventually I decided I was being silly, but somehow I just couldn't break free of the vision in my head." She turned around in my arms and looked at me seriously. "I want you to know that's one of the reasons I wouldn't go out with you back in high school. I really wanted to, but I couldn't."

Wow, now that was a revelation.

"And here I always assumed it was because I was such a geek."

"Tim, you weren't that much of a geek," she said with a wry smile. "The way you kept asking me out was so amazing, so romantic, so brave, I was dying to say yes."

That only made partial sense. "So why didn't you? It's not like your virginity kept you from dating. You went out with lots of guys back then. Did you actually think I was going to rape you or something?"

"No Tim, it wasn't you I was worried about – it was me. I could go out with other guys because I knew I wouldn't be tempted to lose control and let them go too far. You were a totally different proposition, though. I don't know if it's true for all women, but once you finally grew up, you made me feel all gooey inside. If you'd gotten me alone, I probably would've demanded that you take me all the way."

As much as my manly pride wanted to believe such an excuse, I knew it was just silly. She had dated guys that were a whole lot sexier than me. That dog wouldn't hunt.

Then she hung her head. 

"Tim, there's another reason why I didn't ever say yes to you and I'm really not proud of it. See, I knew you were a really good guy, but my friends said you were a nobody. I was so worried about what they would think that I wouldn't even let you be my friend. I was more concerned about my social standing than your feelings or even my feelings for you." Amy looked miserably ashamed of herself. "I was so weak and you were so strong. Can you forgive me?"

Of course it was no secret to those of us on the dweeb-squad that the popular girls faced enormous peer pressure. This was the reason I could accept for her rejection of me. I was impressed, though, that Amy was willing to debase herself and admit that she had given in to it. At this moment I would have forgiven her anything. 

"It's okay, Amy. I know it had to be tough." 

She looked at me closely to make sure I was serious. I was.

"Thank you, Tim. You're always so good to me."

These were pleasant revelations, but something else about her tale of irresistible attraction to me was troublesome. As much as I hated to, it was time to bust that excuse wide open.

"Okay, Amy, if you were so afraid that you'd lose control around me, what made you feel safe enough to get naked with me, alone in the shower?"

Her face got redder than the simple heat from the shower could justify. She was obviously extremely embarrassed.

"Umm. Tim, we're not alone."

"What?"

"Yeah. Take a look at the door."

Shocked, I stared through the steam to the dark slit in the bathroom door, which was open about an inch or so. I saw movement. Oh shit!

"Who's that?"

"Don't worry, Tim, it's nobody you need to worry about."

"The hell you say!" This was a very dangerous turn of events. If Carlotta ever found about what Amy and I were doing, our relationship might be over before it started. Amy was motivated to keep her mouth closed, but I had no idea about our little voyeur. I reached for the shower door.

"Please wait, Tim," Amy pleaded, not releasing me from her embrace. "If you'll just trust me and let me explain, all of this will make perfect sense."

Fat chance of that, I thought, but I let go of the door and settled back into her arms.

"This had better be good."

"Oh it is Tim. As a matter of fact, I think you'll be thrilled by the time I'm done."

Evidently seeing that I was ready to listen, Amy turned and snuggled her backside in close to me. She had evidently figured out just how much I liked holding her that way. I absently leaned us back against the wall and gently massaged her breasts again as she began her explanation.

"There were two reasons why I invited my friend to come up here with me. The first reason was to protect me from myself – and you already know about that one." My head was on her shoulder and I'm sure she could feel me nod. "The second reason was for your benefit."

"How so?"

"Well, I don't like to make promises I can't keep. When I talked you into letting me come to your room like this, I'm sure you were assuming that, uh, penetration would be involved?"

My hand was venturing lower again, sliding across her well-toned belly.

"I'll admit that the thought had crossed my mind." I thought about her words for a second. Whoa, was that what she meant? I went ahead and asked.

"Amy, did you bring someone else for me to have sex with?"

She hesitated.

"Well, I certainly didn't want you to be disappointed when you found out I couldn't give you what you wanted. My friend saw you for the first time at the rehearsal today and she mentioned to me that she thought you were gorgeous. I couldn't believe my audacity, but I asked her if she'd like to join us and she agreed. It seemed like the perfect solution at the time."

There was no way in hell I was going to do this. What Amy and I had already done was bad enough, but to have intercourse with yet another girl?

I was curious, though.

"So who is this wild and crazy woman?"

"I'm sorry, but that's part of the deal. She can't allow you to know who she is. You'll have wear a blindfold and promise not to talk to her. No touching either."

Hmm. It was a mystery to be unraveled.

"Why is she so concerned about me knowing who she is?"

Amy turned her head to whisper in my ear.

"She's very self-conscious about her looks," she explained. "She used to be very beautiful, but then something happened and she thinks she's ugly now."

My breath caught in my throat. Carlotta! It had to be her! This changed everything. What must she think of me, frolicking naked in the shower with Amy – and after what had happened between us this morning? She must have thought I was some kind of Hollywood playboy, here to plow my way through a bunch of giddy small-town girls.

On one hand, though, maybe this was a good sign. Carlotta was obviously not so turned off that she would have nothing to do with me. Hell, she evidently wanted to have sex with me, even if anonymously.

On the other hand, the fact that she was remaining anonymous might indicate that she didn't ever want to get to know me. If she had wanted to come to my room openly, I couldn't think of a reason why Amy would have told her no.

Meanwhile, my hand was again sliding across Amy's abdomen and I could feel her tense up. I was heading back into forbidden territory.

"Relax," I told her. "Now that I know your little secret, you can be sure that you're in good hands. I swear you'll leave my room still a virgin, even if you beg me to take you." The concern on her face dissipated, but with my hands where they were, she certainly didn't relax.

Part of my brain noted that it was strange to continue ravishing Amy when I knew very well that my One True Love was watching, but somehow I just couldn't stop myself. I decided that Carlotta had known what she was likely to see when she agreed to come here, so she couldn't blame me if I continued. Besides, if I suddenly stopped, she might put two and two together and realize that I'd figured out who our visitor was. I sure didn't want to scare her off.

At least that was the way I justified it at the time. My fingers were so tantalizingly close to their goal.

"Okay, Amy, let me see if I've got this straight," I said, my own voice thick with sexual tension now. "I'm expected to just lay there blindfolded with my hands folded and let her have her way with me?" The thought of that was actually rather exciting, but I wasn't going to tell her that.

She was slow in replying. My fingers had reached her swollen outer lips. I was caressing them gently and it was obviously making it difficult for her to concentrate. She wasn't making any move to stop me though. At last she gathered her wits just enough to continue.

"You'll be touching me while the two of you do it. She doesn't know you well enough to trust you to honor her requests unchaperoned."

My finger had slipped down between Amy's lips and was being basted in their hot, succulent juices. I began to massage her clitoris and she tensed and arched her back. It was grossly unfair of me to expect her to carry on a conversation like this. Carlotta was getting a good visual demonstration of what I could make a woman feel.

"A threesome? You and me and Carlot..."

"Shh, no names," Amy moaned softly. "You're not actually supposed to know who she is, but we'll do something special for you if promise to keep it a secret and never talk to her about it." Amy groaned as I flicked her clit more vigorously.

Hmm. A threesome with the two most desirable women I'd ever known. Let me think about this... 

"Well, okay. You've talked me into it. When will she join us?"

"She'll know when. Just trust me."

"Okay, I'm trusting you," I said, sliding my sopping middle finger down to her entrance. I felt her stiffen.

"Amy, it's your turn to trust me. Your virginity is safe." For a long moment there was no response. Finally, she nodded.

Gradually I slipped a finger inside her, tenderly feeling for her hymen. Just because she was a virgin didn't mean that it was still intact of course, but I was guessing that Amy had been very careful with hers. Sure enough, just as my finger was almost as far as I could reach, there it was, firm and whole. Amy gasped as I touched it. I could feel the wet and slippery barrier against the tip of my finger. I hoped Clint realized just how lucky he was. I began to delicately swirl my finger around on it, caressing Amy's most prized possession.

They say that the hymen itself has no actual nerve endings, but sexual arousal is really all in the head anyway. The very fact that Amy knew I was touching what she probably considered the most sexually intimate tissue in her body was enough to shove her over the edge in a big way. I could feel it happening as she started to shake and shudder in my arms.

"Oh God, Tim, I'm coming!" Amy yelled, finally exploding into a monstrous orgasm. I smoothly slid my finger out of her for safety's sake, and instead firmly and quickly worked her clit with my slick fingers. Amy screamed out in what would have sounded like tortured agony if I hadn't known better.

Amy frantically turned her head and our lips met over her sweet shoulder. Her kisses were almost brutal in their intensity as her orgasm slowly subsided. My fingers slowed, and then left her clitoris as I firmly cupped her entire sex with my hand, providing warmth and comfort without stimulation. At last she relaxed and gave a big sigh.

"Tim, that was amazing. I've never felt anything like that before."

"Oh, come on Amy. Surely one of your high school boyfriends brought you off in the back seat of his car or something."

"Tim, I don't think you understand just how careful I've been. You're the only man I've ever had my panties off for until Clint. And he's not interested in doing anything like what you just did. Since he can't fuck me yet, he just doesn't see the point. I can't believe the fun I've been missing."

Amy's plight was really starting to bother me. Sure, there's a whole lot more to life than great sex, but I sure wouldn't want to go my entire life without it. But that's just what lovely Amy was setting herself up for. It was so unfair to her. I guessed that after today she'd never cheat again, so I dedicated myself to making this one afternoon an experience for her to remember.

"Amy," I said, "it's been fun in the shower, but what do you say we dry off and resume this on the bed. Let's go slow and give each other our undivided attention. Your friend can watch and wait for a while longer – will you let me make love to you?" 

Amy's bottomless blue eyes looked straight into mine. "I thought you'd never ask."

We hopped out of the shower and quickly dried each other off. I gathered her up in my arms and carried her into the room. I could see the faint outline of a petite woman hidden behind the floor length drapes.

"Just relax now and let me pleasure you, Amy."

I laid her down on the bed, and then lay down beside her. She smiled and grabbed a pillow, covering my face.

"Just wait for a second, Tim."

Moments later I heard the click of the bathroom light switch and the pillow came off. The bathroom was dark and the door was barely cracked.

I rolled Amy onto her stomach and straddled her hips. I was going to start from the beginning and do it the way I liked. I wanted Amy to experience lovemaking like she might never experience with her husband.

I was very conscious of my Carlotta's eyes on us.

I snagged the bottle of still warm massage oil from the nightstand and drizzled it across Amy's upper back. Starting at the base of her long, graceful neck, I slowly worked my way out to her shoulders, giving her my best massage. Amy's skin was remarkably smooth and my calluses had softened as my construction career receded further into my past. My hands glided easily.

Amy was obviously in good shape; her shoulders were toned and shapely without being bulky. I felt for and found knots of tension and began to massage them away. I was actually quite good at massage; it had been one of Lashawna's passions and she had tutored me rigorously. I had opened some doors for her after hitting the big time and the last time we'd talked, she was working in a posh Beverly Hills salon, giving massages to people who's names you'd be familiar with.

"Wow, Tim. Where did you learn how to do this?" Amy murmured. "It feels simply heavenly." Another rhetorical question.

"I'm glad you like it, Amy, but I can assure you that it feels pretty good at this end too." 

As my hands slowly worked their way down her shapely back and onto her magnificently rounded buttocks, I reflected that even with my pick of aspiring starlets, I had never massaged such a perfect body.

Amy laid her head down and closed her eyes. Her breathing was slow and regular and I almost wondered if she had fallen asleep, but as my hands glided onto her upper thighs and approached her most intimate area, I felt her almost imperceptibly stiffen. I lifted one of my knees and touched it gently between her thighs. She took the hint and spread one leg and then the other as I knelt between them.

Amy held her breath as my fingers traveled down between her cheeks and gently slid between her still well lubricated folds. I drew the moisture back up and began to massage her taint and then her perfect little rosebud itself.

Amy gasped softly, but allowed me to continue as I teased her with a spiraling caress of the area. They're loath to admit it, but I've found that being touched there can excite most women. I finally applied just a little more pressure, teasing like I was going to insert a finger. She almost seemed eager to have me do it, but I went back to massaging her wonderfully shaped thighs instead. I felt her relax.

As I worked those well-formed thighs, I fantasized about placing my hands on the insides of them and drawing her up onto her knees. God, it would feel so good to thrust my raging manhood deep into her perfect wetness. I noticed a drip of pre-cum fall onto her calf. Oh God, this was making me so hot. Out of the corner of my eye I could also nearly swear that I was seeing rhythmic movement through the cracked closet door. Maybe this was affecting Carlotta too.

Then, almost as if she had tapped into my thoughts, Amy got up onto her hands and knees, thighs still spread wide, and presented her perfection to me. I could hardly believe it, but there was no mistaking what she wanted me to do. I'd told her I wouldn't, but she was inviting me to do it anyway. Had a mortal man ever been so sorely tempted?

"Please Tim, I've wanted you inside me for so long."

It occurred that maybe I'd done too good a job at enflaming her long-dormant passion. If we weren't careful, Carlotta might have to come out of hiding and break us up. That was tempting in and of itself, but I needed to show the poor girl that I was made of sterner stuff than that.

"Oh Amy, I want to so badly, but you've been saving it for your wedding night. I can't go and spoil that now."

Amy groaned in frustration.

"Come on, Tim. Clint doesn't have any appreciation for how hard it was for me to wait this long. It'll be wasted on him. You're the man I want to have it. I'm on the pill, it's safe."

"What about your friend. I don't think she'd approve."




A Friend of the Bride's



"She's seen us together now. I know she'll understand what I'm talking about." Amy looked right at the bathroom door. "Right?"

There were two light taps on the door. I took that to be Carlotta's approval.

I was still torn, but with Carlotta agreeing to the act, I finally broke down. I knelt behind Amy and pressed my raging erection up against her opening. I may not be hung like a horse, but I'm probably somewhat bigger than average. I knew I'd better be careful here.

I rubbed my head up and down through her folds a couple times to collect some of her precious lubrication, and then began to press into her. There was quite a bit of resistance at first, but at last her lips yielded to my gentle but firm pressure and I squeezed inside. Her warm, tight opening held me in a tight embrace as I came up against her maidenhead.

Amy held her breath, waiting for me to make a woman of her. One good push and the deed would be done; Amy's virginity would be mine. I paused for a moment, thinking about what I was doing.

No. 

I had promised her. For the first time in my entire life I turned Amy down. As I withdrew, Amy's head whipped around to look at me.

"I'm sorry Amy," I explained, "but I swore to you that you'd leave here a virgin no matter what. As much as I'm sure both of us would love to do it, I will never, ever break a promise to you."

I was expecting anger or an argument, but after a moment's pause Amy just nodded, resigned to the fact that it just wasn't going to happen. I could see in her face that she had really, really wanted it, but at the same time she seemed relieved that I had taken charge and stopped us from doing something we would both surely regret later. She dropped back down onto her stomach on the bed.

"Thank you, Tim. You're always such a perfect gentleman to me. You may never know just how much I love that about you. I'm sorry I tried to make you go back on your promise; I guess I just kind of got carried away."

I lay down at her side and softly kissed her lips. I meant it as a relaxed, calming type of kiss, but Amy kissed me back with a passion that startled me. Within seconds, I was returning it in the same fashion. If she had already been married, this kiss could have been considered adultery just as surely as intercourse. I knew she had wanted to have some fun in the sack, but what I was getting from her at that moment was much deeper than that, like some barrier between us had been torn down.

The power of her kiss blew away all inhibitions and I quickly rolled her onto her back. I knew that her virginity was up for grabs again; my fevered brain was telling me in no uncertain terms that this passion transcended any silly promise between us. I spread her legs wide with my knees and prepared to plunge into her. Her hands gripped my buttocks and seemed poised to pull me straight in.

Then, unexpectedly, I felt Amy's amazingly strong hands move to my shoulders. She rolled me onto my back, pushed my hands down to my sides and straddled my hips. I almost struggled against her, but finally, the nearly overpowering lust dissipated a bit and I gradually became myself again.

That had scared me. I had wanted her so badly that I might have done the unthinkable. The only thing that redeemed me from damning shame was that she had been a partner in the almost-crime.

Amy was breathing like she'd just completed a sprint, her beautiful bare breasts rising and falling above my face. I could see the lust mirrored in her eyes. If, as I suspected, she had felt what I had, she was a stronger person than I for being able to pull back.

"Thanks, Amy. I don't know if I would have been able to stop that time."

"No, that was more my fault than yours. I shouldn't have kissed you that way."

We were seriously playing with fire here – I knew it for sure now. This heat between us was phenomenal, way beyond anything I had experienced before. Amy's explanation for avoiding me in high school suddenly didn't seem silly anymore. I realized that while I had recognized our special bond at an earlier age than she had, she alone had suspected its overwhelming power.

Amy had recovered somewhat herself. She looked over toward the bathroom, seeming to remember why there was a third person in my suite.

"I think it's time to let our chaperone come out and play," Amy panted, wisely, I thought. "I don't think the two of us can be trusted by ourselves." I nodded my agreement.

Amy reached over onto the nightstand and retrieved a blindfold that I hadn't noticed sitting there before.

"Promise me you won't peek."

"Scout's honor."

Mr. Happy had been denied entry twice now and I would sure be thrilled to get some relief – especially if it was with Carlotta.

"Good," Amy giggled, slipping the blindfold over my eyes. I almost shuddered from the unexpectedly powerful sensation of deja vu – the cloth was exactly the same smooth silky texture I'd felt in my dream. It was a good fit; I couldn't see a thing.

Amy's lips returned to mine and we began to kiss, our tongues probing deeply. After a bit, I could feel her hands running across my shoulders and chest, rubbing and exploring. The heat started to build again.

Then, out of nowhere, I felt a new pair of hands, soft and cool, caressing my feet as lightly as a feather. I managed not to jump.

"It feels like your friend has joined us," I mumbled into Amy's mouth.

"Mmm hmm," she mumbled back.

As Amy kept my mouth occupied, I felt Carlotta's hands slowly moving up over my ankles and calves. Her touch was so light it bordered on the ephemeral, yet it was electrifying at the same time. It was all I could do not to rip off my blindfold and reach for her. I used all the discipline I could muster and managed to hold still.

Her hands moved up my thighs and softly guided me to spread my legs. I complied and felt her fingertips just pass on either side of my raging erection and run teasingly over my hips and down along the crevice where Amy was pressed down on me. It was almost more than I could take and I groaned out loud. Amy's mouth left mine and I felt her twist, presumably to watch Carlotta work her magic on me.

At last, the soft, knowing fingers worked their way back up my inner thighs and teased the hairs on my scrotum. I realized that I was tensed from head to toe and tried unsuccessfully to relax. Any man that could have relaxed under the ministrations of those knowing hands must already have been lying in his coffin. 

I felt one hand gently cup my scrotum while the other one crept up and slowly encircled my manhood, prying it out from Amy's butt crack and holding it bolt upright. Amy scooted up just a bit, presumably to give Carlotta more room to work. Seconds later I felt hot breath on the head, then soft wet lips encircled me.

If I hadn't already come three times that afternoon, she would have caught an immediate load right then. At it was, I had to fight back the urge to let go, it felt so good. The contrast between the cool air-conditioned room and her sizzling hot mouth was astonishing.

Slowly, the molten hot ring of her lips sank lower and lower and I could feel her tongue flicking all around my glans as she went. Carlotta was obviously more experienced at this than Amy. The tip of my manhood reached the back of her mouth, then incredibly, began to slip down her throat.

I groaned, but then realized that I was hearing rapid breathing right above me. Amy was obviously being turned on by the show Carlotta was putting on.

"God, that is so hot!" she said. "I've just got to... got to... Oh Jesus, Tim, I've just got to feel your tongue inside me again!" 

Amy began scooting up and I could feel her soaking lips leaving a warm, wet trail up the centerline of my torso. Soon her incredible sex pressed against my lips. I immediately plunged my tongue between her lips and began to lap at her wonderful center with abandon. Carlotta's mouth had reached the base of my erection now and I could feel the head of my manhood deep in her gullet. No woman had ever taken all of me in her mouth before and I had very little concentration left to use for fancy techniques on Amy.

Carlotta's lips slowly withdrew until they only held the very tip in their velvet embrace, and then plunged down to the base again in one smooth motion. The feeling slammed me with such intensity that I would have sat bolt upright if Amy hadn't been straddling my face. 

"Oh my God!" I cried out into the warm, musky confines of Amy's vagina. It was probably the vibrations of my voice that set her off, but Amy's thighs clamped down on me like a bench vise and she shook like a leaf, recipient of an orgasm every bit as massive as the last one.

It felt like Amy came for an eternity. Her thighs were an airtight seal over my mouth and her swollen clit was plugging one nostril, leaving me only the other one to breath with. And boy did I need to breathe! Carlotta was plunging up and down on me at a steady pace and it was easily the most intense sensation I'd felt in all my twenty-three years. It wasn't just my manhood that was being effected, it felt like every nerve in my body was on fire with pleasure.

In the dark under my blindfold, I was fighting a running battle with asphyxiation and simultaneously doing my best not to come. I didn't know if a fifth ejaculation would be possible if I used the fourth one now, so I was fighting it off for all I was worth. Finally Amy's thighs relaxed and the wonderful mouth on my erection slowed and then finally withdrew.

Amy's breathing gradually returned to some semblance of normalcy. She finally sighed and slid her hips down my body until I felt my abandoned manhood again nestle home into the valley between her cheeks. Her mouth met mine for a quick kiss.

"I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, Tim."

"If I'd enjoyed it any more, you and your friend would be doing CPR on me right about now," I managed. Amy was rocking her hips slightly, teasing my painfully needy manhood.

"Well, I'm glad it didn't come to that. I wouldn't have the first clue how to do that. How 'bout you?" she asked her friend. There was a slight pause. "She doesn't know either. I'll bet she can't wait to show you something she does know how to do, though. Are you up for that?"

"Am I up? I think you know the answer to that."

I felt Amy reach back and give me a quick squeeze.

"Yup, you're most emphatically up," she said approvingly.

"Come on, girlfriend," she said to her collaborator, "let's give Tim what he really wants."

I felt another set of thighs straddle my knees, then scoot up to sandwich my manhood against Amy's backside. I could feel hot, wet labia spread around the underside of my manhood. I gasped at the warm embrace.

Amy giggled and began to gyrate her hips. Carlotta followed suit and the result was a very warm and sensuous caress of my member, sandwiched between their bodies. What I would have given to be able to watch this! 

Finally, Amy leaned down and whispered in my ear.

"Are you ready?"

I was very, very ready, but there was something I wanted to be careful about. I murmured in her ear.

"I hate to effect the mood, Amy, but what about, um, pregnancy? Do we need to take precautions?"

"Well, uh, ever since... well, uh, she's not physically capable of getting pregnant anymore," Amy murmured back almost inaudibly. Wow, Bill hadn't been kidding about the severity of Carlotta's internal injuries.

"Okay, then I'm ready."

I felt both sets of hips lift up.

"I'm going to take you inside me now," Amy said, nervous anticipation in her voice.

"What? I thought that's what she was for. I can't let you do that, Amy."

"Shh. Trust me. It's okay. I know what I'm doing."

I took that to mean she was just talking like she was going to do it. Warm moistness pressed against the tip of my manhood.

"Oh God, Tim this is going to feel so good!" she exclaimed. "I've waited for this for so long. I can feel you right at my entrance. You're so big, I don't know how I'm going to manage this."

Amy's acting was incredible, making it feel like I was actually going take her virginity. I would be in her debt for this forever. My old fantasy was almost coming true, but my newer, hotter fantasy was coming true, I reminded myself.

I could feel warm wetness press down around the head of my raging erection, lips separating and being stretched wide, allowing me to enter within. My head was being engulfed into a warm sweetness. Eventually, I could feel my first few inches held in a warm embrace. Amy paused.

"Oh, Tim, you're there. I can feel you pushing against it again!" The excitement and wonder in her voice were palpable. "Okay, here it goes. I want you to have me."

The lips pressed down on me and Amy cried out in pain.

"Are you okay, Amy?" I asked her, having a difficult time believing that anyone could pull off an act like this.

"Oh God, Tim, it hurts, but it feels so good!"

Little by little, I could feel hot, wet lips working their way, sliding down my erection. Amy's hungry mouth met mine, kissing me desperately. I could feel tears drip onto my face.

"I can't believe I'm actually doing this," she gasped. "It's better than I ever dreamed it would be."

Either Amy was the world's best actress, or she was actually using her friend as a decoy to have intercourse with me while retaining plausible deniability. It felt for all the world like I was inside her.

At last, unbelievably, I could feel that every last inch of me was encased in a warm, wet sheath. Muscles contracted, massaging me, then moved upwards again as I felt Amy's rock-hard nipples slide up my chest.

Amy gasped as I slid out. I felt cool air on all but the very tip. Amy sat up and I felt her long hair leave my face. She sat down hard and I felt my manhood slam home. Hips lifted and dropped, slowly at first, but then faster and faster. Soon, my hips joined in, pounding upward to meet the downward strokes of the girls. They were doing a fantastic job of coordination. If I hadn't known better, I would have sworn it was only Amy above me.

"Oh God, Amy. You feel so good inside!" In my fevered state, I was having a difficult time remembering that Amy and I weren't actually doing it. Amy's voice was full of excited wonder.

"Oh, Tim. I want to feel you inside me forever."

I don't know how long we went, but at last I could feel myself approaching the point of no return. I was hearing ragged breathing above us too, and it must have concerned Amy. I heard her whisper softly, but not soft enough that I couldn't hear her.

"Are you okay, Squeaky?"

The reply must have been a non-verbal affirmative, because nothing more was said and they continued on.

Squeaky? That was an interesting nickname. I had still never heard Carlotta speak, so it was possible that she had earned the name for a mousy voice. Or it could have been something totally different.

"Amy," I moaned at last, completely accepting this fantasy as real. "I can't hold it anymore. I'm going to come inside you now."

"Please, Tim, give it to me," she gasped desperately. "I want to feel you fill me, way up inside. Oh Jesus, Tim, give it to me. Give it to me now!"

I could feel her breasts on my chest and then her lips met mine as I moaned and gave one last upward thrust, burying myself to the hilt. My semen felt like molten steel as it burst free into a hot, fleshy cavern. The sense of release was like none that I'd ever felt before as I shot stream after stream after stream. 

"Oh God, I'm coming too!" Amy cried. I could feel slim thighs shudder against my hips in orgasmic release as Amy and I feverishly thrust our tongues into each other's mouths for a moment. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her into a close embrace. Amy's teeth sank into my shoulder as she shook from one end to the other. I could hear muffled gasps from above us as our partner in crime experienced her own climax.

The shuddering on my hips gradually subsided as we all came back to earth. I felt them move and my dripping wet manhood was suddenly exposed to the cool room air. The bed rocked for a moment as Amy and I continued to kiss. I heard the rustle of clothing, then the sound of the door into the hallway opening.

"Thank you!" I called out. I heard a faint kissing noise from that direction, then the door clicked shut. I hoped that boded well for our future together.

Amy slipped the blindfold off of my eyes and I was dazzled both by the mid-afternoon sunlight streaming in through a gap in the curtains and by the sight of her beautiful nude body above me. With the exertion of our lovemaking, she was glistening with perspiration. I watched a small rivulet gather up droplets as it slid down the curve of her perfectly tanned breast, then drip off her softening nipple and onto chest. 

Amy lowered her hips onto me and I felt my now nearly flaccid member nestle into the crevice of her lips. I looked down there to see if I could see the telltale of my fluids leaking from her, but everything was so wet that it was impossible to tell for sure. I looked back up into her eyes. She looked like the cat that swallowed the canary.

"Thank you too," I told her.

"No, the pleasure was all mine," she said. "I've wanted to do that with you for about forever."

"So what exactly is it that you did, Amy? It sure felt like you were really..." Her finger again gently pressed against my lips and she shook her head.

"I'll never tell, so don't even ask. Did you enjoy it?"

"More than I would have been able to imagine even a couple of hours ago."

"Then we'll just have to leave it at that."

I was sated now. The two of them had extracted the last ounce of my sexual energy. Even in the absence of Carlotta, Amy was safe for a while. What was left was the pleasant afterglow of a sexual experience that was one for the ages.

Amy looked so perfectly luscious that I just had to pull her head down for one last kiss. With Carlotta gone, I felt free to speak my mind. I knew I was about to lose her again, this time forever, but I couldn't let her go without telling her exactly how I felt. 

"I love you Amy, I always have and no matter what happens I hope you know that part of me always will."

She nodded, but then a profound sadness passed over her features.

"I loved you too, Tim, more than you'll ever know. I realized it during our junior year." Tears streamed from her eyes. "When you left town without even saying goodbye, I was devastated. I tried to find you for two years – I even hired a private investigator, but you'd dropped off the face of the earth."

She was wracked with sobs now. I took her in my arms and held her close, too amazed to say anything. I'd never suspected that she'd felt that way about me. She sniffled and went on.

"I had meant to get to know you better after graduation, when it wouldn't matter anymore if you were popular or not. With you it would even have been okay not waiting until our wedding night. Tim, I loved you and wanted you so badly, but you left me. And it was all because of my stupid pride!"

I was completely taken aback. She'd blind-sided me with this. Still, there was only one thing for a gentleman to do and I did it.

"Amy, you can't go around talking silly like this. Tomorrow you're going to get married to an incredible guy. What's to run away from? Surely his lack of passion in bed isn't enough to make you throw it all away? He'll learn."

Seemingly too sad to speak, she just nodded and gave me one last kiss, then slid off of me and slipped into the bathroom. A minute later she stepped back out, fully dressed and nearly presentable. She didn't say another word, but her tears said volumes as she turned and gave me one last brave smile. The door clicked shut.




A Friend of the Bride's



It was over. 

* * * * *

I don't know how long I laid there thinking about Amy, but it bothered me that even the ecstatic feelings I'd felt for Carlotta that morning did little to bring me out of my funk. There was no way I should be thinking about Amy, knowing that Carlotta was the girl for me. She was, wasn't she?

At last I looked at the alarm clock and shot to my feet. The rehearsal dinner was in twenty minutes! I hurried to the bathroom and took a quick shower, again turning up the heat as high as I could stand, trying to put the events of the day into perspective. As the hot water seared my flesh, I began to come to grips with what had happened over the course of the last few hours. 

The passion that Amy and I had unleashed on each other had been very real and devastatingly powerful, but what I had felt seeing Carlotta for the first time was impossible to ignore.

I'd had two separate revelations about how I could feel for a woman in the same day. If I'd had to choose between them I might have been in real trouble, but since Amy was out of my reach, the choice was already made. I'd have to find a way to begin a more conventional relationship with Carlotta.

I was long over any queasiness over her injuries and was desperate to tell her how I felt about her. I just had to find a way to tell her that I loved and accepted her as she was. I didn't see her disfigurement as an obstacle, but Carlotta was obviously letting herself be ruled by it more than she should. With a little bit of care and understanding, maybe I could break through to her. 

By the time I stepped from the shower, my attitude was looking up. I was going to make this work.

Stepping up to the sink, I pondered how I might best introduce myself to Carlotta tonight. Should I just pretend I didn't know she had been here? Or maybe I should approach her as if I knew her. After all, I had known her in the biblical sense.

No, I'd best act as if I didn't know she'd been here. I had promised Amy to keep the secret and I would never, ever break a promise to her.

As I pondered the options, I fumbled my comb and it fell to the floor. As Murphy's Law dictated that it must, it clattered back behind the toilet, next to the floral design trashcan. With a resigned groan, I got down on my knees and felt around back there. I didn't immediately find my comb. What I found instead was an empty single-use ampoule of personal lubricant. What the... Well, maybe it was from a previous occupant I told myself hopefully. It could have been hidden back there for a long time. I ran my finger over the snapped off spout. It was still moist.

The severity of Carlotta's crash became more real to me, but I was more determined than ever to make her mine.

* * * * *

I was one of the last people to arrive at the hotel's restaurant. The before-dinner soirée was ending and people were already starting to sit down at the tables. Unfortunately, Carlotta's table was already full. Argh! I was too late again. How was I ever going to talk to the girl?

I snagged a seat with the five groomsmen. At least my seat faced Carlotta's table.

"Hey Timbo," Steve said with a big, friendly grin on his lean face. "I thought having a headache was the excuse to use to avoid doing the wild thing!" The rest of the guys laughed good-naturedly. After the kind of stuff that had gone on at the bachelor party, I had indeed been expecting to catch some flack about my lame excuse for skipping golf.

"Wait just one second here," I said in mock indignation, "I never left my room."

"Yeah, and Carlotta never made it to hers," laughed the best man, Bruce, Clint's older brother. 

"Huh?" I said with a straight face, doing my best to not give the game away.

"Yeah, we heard she had a headache right after the rehearsal and was going up to her room while the rest of the girls went out shopping together. Amy's mom went to check on her later and no one answered the door."

My defense of Carlotta – guessing that she had been asleep and hadn't heard the knocking – fell on deaf ears. It just got worse from there. Their accusations got a bit raucous and I saw Carlotta look over. I'm sure she had gotten the gist of what the guys were saying because the un-scarred portion of her face was blushing a deep red. She was so beautiful to me that my heart nearly stopped. I gave her a quick smile, but she dropped her eyes and turned away.

"Guys," I said, pretending to badly conceal mock laughter, "I swear on my grandmother's grave that I haven't seen Carlotta since the rehearsal." I was being technically honest here. "As a matter of fact, I've never even spoken to her."

Bruce slapped me on the back. "Okay, Tim, we believe you," he said to the guys with a stage wink. "Lord knows we'd never do anything naughty with another member of the wedding party!" They all laughed.

The rest of the meal went like that, with ribald accusations and suggestions flying across the table in all directions. I gave as good as I got. By the time we got done, each of us had been romantically linked to at least three of the five bridesmaids.

At last the dessert dishes had been whisked away and the wait staff was busily serving up coffee. The meal was almost over and I was starting to get desperate. I just had to find a way to talk to Carlotta. The way things had been going, I might not get a chance at the wedding or reception.

Just then I heard the tinkling of a spoon on a champagne glass and Clint and Amy dutifully kissed for maybe the tenth time since the meal began, still much to the crowd's approval. Then the maid of honor got to her feet and raised her glass.

"I know that the toasts are supposed to be said at the reception, and I've got a nice long gooshy one planned..." The crowd groaned. With a dramatic pout and a dismissive wave, she went on. 

"I'm going to keep this one short, though." Everyone cheered. She faced the bride and groom. 

"One behalf of the female side of the wedding party," she said, with a quick heads-up glance over toward best man Bruce, "I'd just like to say how much we all love you both and how we think you're just perfect together."

"Hear, hear!" the crowd erupted to the clinking of glasses. The maid of honor looked expectantly over at our table, but Bruce was three sheets to the wind by now. I could tell he wasn't in shape to even attempt a toast. Steve and the other guys all had deer-in-the-headlights looks on their faces, so I got to my feet to hold up the male end of this thing. 

I almost staggered a bit myself and realized that I'd had a lot more to drink than I'd remembered. Oh well, too late now. I soldiered on.

"Amy and Clint," I said, holding up my glass, grateful that the drink hadn't noticeably slurred my speech, "I'm sure that I speak for all of the men here when I wish you both all of the best things this world can give a couple who are so obviously very much in love."

I lied like a dog, but Amy kept her game face on. She evidently wasn't going to show any of her doubts in public.

"Hear, hear," the chorus went up. While the glasses were clinking, a revelation burst into my head. I suddenly knew how I could get to Carlotta! I glanced over at her. She was giving me an approving look for my modest speech. Her gentle smile (and probably the copious amounts of alcohol) gave the courage to carry on. I would have to break a promise, but our future together was on the line.

I held my glass up again, and the crowd quieted down.

"I hope you'll indulge me, but I have something to say on a more personal note." Their expressions said they'd be happy to. 

"Before last night I'd only met a few of you, but you all have made me feel so welcome that I can honestly say I can't imagine a young couple having a better, more supportive bunch of family and friends." 

There were a lot of smiles at that. Okay, I was really going to do this. The next time Carlotta and I made love it was going to be face to face, just the two of us.

"I would like to especially thank one particularly beautiful young woman who I met under the most unusual of circumstances this afternoon." The guys at my table tittered, but I ignored them.

I turned to Carlotta's table. Unaccountably, she looked puzzled. Out of the corner of my eye I could see that Amy's eyes were huge. She was desperately motioning for me to stop, but this was my big chance and I wouldn't be denied. A personal declaration of my acceptance of her might be just the thing Carlotta needed.

"So here's to you and I hope I get to know you a lot better in the future, Squeaky," I said, using the nickname that Amy had used for her in the hotel room.

I was expecting Carlotta to blush again, but instead her hand came up and covered her mouth in shock. Until that moment, I hadn't noticed the two gold rings – one with a large diamond – on her left hand.

Married? But the way she had looked at me the first time she saw me, how could she be married? This didn't make any sense. Suddenly dead sober, my mind raced through the events of the morning from this new perspective. Finally, and devastatingly, the reality of the situation made it's way through my thick skull.

The disappointment of seeing how good Amy and Clint looked together and the realization that I could never be the kind of man that he appeared to be had put me into a funk. I had been way too receptive to the possibility of another woman taking Amy's place in my heart.

My own lust and desire for Carlotta had blinded me to the patently obvious – her look and gasp while walking up the isle hadn't been 'The Thunderbolt' – it was star-worship, plain and simple. From experience, I knew the expression well. She had recognized my face and reacted in a perfectly normal way to the lust she had seen on it. My obsessive personality had gotten the best of me again. My heart was ripped in two as I realized that there was nothing here for me

As bad as this was, it suddenly got infinitely worse. I realized that there were soft murmurs of shock coming from all corners of the room and as one, all heads turned to the figure sitting next to Carlotta. It occurred to me that I might have been the only one in the room who didn't know the figure as 'Squeaky'.

I could feel my face burn and I suddenly wished the earth would open up and swallow me. My shame was matched only by my revulsion. With all eyes on her, the old crone leered at me with a lecherous smile and a sly wink.

* * * * *

I laid awake most of the night, cursing my idiocy. How could I have been so wrong about what was going on between Carlotta and I? When I analyzed my feelings for Carlotta now, I still felt an unreasonably strong physical attraction, but the feelings of love and desire were fading fast. 'The Thunderbolt' had been a flash-in-the-pan.

I couldn't even begin to be upset with Amy for my embarrassment. She had been telling the truth the whole time. From her friend seeing me for the first time at the rehearsal, to the loss of her one-time beauty, to the inability to get pregnant, even the need for the lubricant – it all fit her great-aunt like a glove.

I debated whether or not I should even show my face at the wedding. True, even among the people who had been at the dinner, few would guess what the whole exchange had been about, but that was little comfort. It would be so easy to slip away and not have to deal with this whole mess.

Eventually though, my work ethic kicked in. I had promised to sing at the wedding and the show must go on. One thing was for sure though; I didn't want to spend even one more minute in this podunk town than absolutely necessary tomorrow. With the resources available to me, I knew of a couple of things I could do to help on that score. I'd be making some phone calls first thing in the morning.

* * * * *

Amy and Clint's wedding day dawned as perfect as a fairy tale. A cool breeze was blowing in from the gulf, providing welcome relief from the heat. The sky was an unbroken blue and the church was festooned with glorious finery.

The pews were filled to overflowing with family and friends. Everyone seemed to be in festive spirits, all except for the dour Secret Service agents accompanying Clint's great-uncle, on vacation from Massachusetts and his duties in the US Senate. I was relatively sure that there would be no smiles among those Ray-Ban'd gentlemen today.

Amy was getting her perfect white wedding; Clint would be getting her cherry tonight.

Carlotta didn't meet my eyes as she came up the isle with Steve. I felt so horrible about how I had embarrassed her yesterday; I could barely look her way as she took up her position on the chancel. At least she probably had no idea of the mischief I had suspected her of.

Then, when Clint lifted his bride's veil, she wouldn't look my way either; she only had eyes for him. Even when I sang her song, Amy never glanced away from Clint. I sat down when I finished and the service continued. At last, the pastor got to the part that probably struck fear into Amy's heart.

"Does anyone here have any reason why Clint and Amy should not be wed? Speak now, or forever hold your peace." He paused.

At last, Amy's eyes met mine. The pastor had spoken the lines as a mere formality of course, but the look Amy gave me told me just how much she feared I might make it something more. After last night's incident, I couldn't blame her. She had admitted that she'd loved me once and there was no telling what I might do now.

Not to worry though – I'd had my fill of public humiliation. I was going to slip away and get out of town as quickly as I could. 

The opportunity for objections passed without incident and the pastor went on with the ceremony. Then they got to the part where they would exchange rings. Bruce fished Amy's ring out of his breast pocket with a flourish and Clint slipped it on her finger smoothly.

Amy had more trouble with his ring though. Whether the ring had been sized improperly or Clint's fingers had swollen up since then, the ring just refused to go on his finger. She gamely kept after it fruitlessly for ten or fifteen seconds until finally there were some chuckles from out in the pews. This evidently spurred Clint into action and he reached in with his other hand and shoved it home. The rings now safely placed, they turned back toward the pastor.

Amy had a blush on her face, but Clint's expression was something quite different. The pastor was looking down into his book and was starting to speak again, but then unaccountably, he came to an abrupt stop, turned and looked at me. For a moment I wondered why, then I realized it was because I was standing. How had that happened?

"Excuse me," I said, the words seemingly coming out of a mouth totally unconnected to my own, "I have just one question for the bride."

There were murmurs rippling through the congregation, but they were somewhat restrained. Perhaps they figured that this was somehow a poorly staged part of the wedding. Even the fellows with radios in their ears didn't appear overly concerned.

The pastor's eyes were huge, though. I'll bet this was the first time that anyone had ever interrupted one of his weddings. He couldn't have been any more surprised than I was, though.

I hadn't planned this in the least, but I was committed now. I walked closer and looked Amy right in the face. Some instinct told me just what I should say to her.

"Amy, do you love him? Look me right in the eye and tell me that you love him." 

The microphone on the alter was live and the whole congregation listened in stunned silence.

Amy looked outraged and it was clear to me that she was going to profess her undying love for Clint, but then, unbelievably, she paused for just an instant. It wasn't for long, but she definitely did pause. Finally she gathered herself to speak, but Clint beat her to it.

"How dare you! Of course she loves me, you little show biz pris," he murmured under his breath in justified outrage.

"Then let's hear her say it," I persisted, marveling at my uncanny ability to screw up on such a colossal scale.

"You love me, don't you, Hon," Clint said, looking at Amy. It wasn't quite a question; it was almost more of a demand. Even through my cloud of embarrassment, I didn't like that tone at all.

She was standing there with a stricken look on her face, not saying anything. Clint took her by the upper arm, gripping her tightly. I thought he was being more forceful than was warranted under the circumstances. I knew she had been about to say it, but the way he was treating her seemed to give her pause.

"Well Amy, tell him!" 

Desperately, like an animal in a trap, she looked back and forth between Clint and I. Even with almost four hundred family and guests there, you could have heard a pin drop.

Clint's face was turning red with rage. This was an aspect of Clint that Amy either didn't know about or hadn't wanted to mention to me. He was obviously used to people immediately bending to his will, but his bride was being recalcitrant. I was completely taken by surprise though, when he spun her toward him and shook her.

"Damn it, Amy, you tell him!" he screamed at her. His voice echoed off of the stone walls. Her face contorted in pain from the strength of his grip. I could see that she was terrified by his reaction.

"Hey, you're hurting her," I said, stepping toward them and reaching for his arm.

Even then, the last thing I would have expected him to do was exactly what Clint did. He shoved Amy aside, letting go of her, then swung his fist at me. I was so surprised that I didn't have time to take any conscious action, but my childhood instincts kicked in for me. I had been beaten so many times by my mom's various boyfriends that I'd had to learn to duck blows at an early age. Clint's wild roundhouse was poorly aimed and I easily dropped under it.

Instinctively, I stepped forward and connected with a hard right hook to his jaw. His head snapped to the side and the look in his eyes went distant. It was a classic knockout blow and he went down in a heap. No one was more surprised than me. A lucky punch, I guess.

Now the agents went into action, smoothly jogging in from the sides and placing themselves between the Senator and the crazy singer in the tux. The crowd's shocked silence lasted for maybe another two or three seconds. Then a single piercing scream went up from somewhere in the back and the whole place erupted.

Amy was standing there over her groom in her eight thousand dollar wedding dress with a shocked look on her face. For better or worse, her storybook wedding was not going to end with 'and they all lived happily ever after'. I held my hand out to her.

"Come with me." 

I was amazed by the sheer audacity of my words. The chances of her actually running away with me had to be about zero. After all, in the last eighteen hours I had broken a solemn promise to her, created a major scene at the rehearsal dinner and had just ruined her life-long dream of the perfect wedding. There was also the small matter of having decked her soon-to-be husband. It was more likely that she'd shoot me than leave with me.

Amy looked at me with an expression I couldn't begin to read. For a moment, I was sure that she was about to slap me, but then, unbelievably, she slid the rings off of her finger and handed them to the flabbergasted pastor. She grabbed my hand in a firm grip and looked at me with a steely glint in her eye.

"Let's go."

Hand in hand we ran for the side door, leaving complete pandemonium in our wake. I'm not certain, but I think there was the slightest trace of a smile on the face of the federal agent who held the door for us as we left the sanctuary. There wasn't any doubt, however, about the thumbs-up he flashed us.




A Friend of the Bride's



"Where are we going?" she asked as we ran down the hall. I pushed the heavy door open and led her outside into the bright afternoon sun and around toward the back of the church.

"To the limo," I said as our dress shoes beat a sharp staccato rhythm on the sidewalk. Her long train was flying behind her.

"But it's around front."

"Not your limo, my limo."

Amy's hometown wasn't a huge place and limousines weren't terribly plentiful. I had really wanted privacy and a quick getaway though. My morning phone calls had eventually managed to score the last available limo in town.

"What is that thing, a school bus?" she exclaimed as we rounded the corner. The limo was tall, massive and intimidating, despite sporting a brilliant canary yellow paint job. 

"A stretched Hummer. It's all they had left."

The driver saw us coming and our quick pace alerted him to the fact that we might need to make a quick getaway. He jumped out and was holding the door open for us by the time we got there.

"Hey, stop right there!" an angry voice yelled from behind us. I looked back as I helped Amy climb in. Bruce, along with Clint's other two brothers in their usher's tuxes, had just come around the corner at a dead run. Boy did they look pissed! The foul temper thing was obviously genetic.

I thought to myself that given time, everyone would realize that Amy was free to do whatever she pleased. This wasn't the Dark Ages after all and they couldn't just drag her back in there and make her marry him.

Then the obvious hit me. It was more likely that Clint's brothers now had a score to settle with me. I honestly couldn't blame them, even though Clint had swung first, but three to one didn't seem like fair odds at all. It was time to exit, stage left.

The driver had sized up the situation and didn't need me to tell him what to do. He sprinted back around the front of the massive vehicle and jumped into the driver's seat as I followed Amy, pulling her long train in behind us. The big V8 fired up as I slammed the door. We were rolling. 

Bruce could see that he and his brothers were too late to catch up to us and ran to block the parking lot's only exit. They had rightly assumed that the driver wouldn't run them down.

Bless the driver's soul; he was really on the ball. He kicked the limo into 4-wheel drive and blasted right over the curb, across the immaculately manicured lawn and up the towering embankment, slinging clods of beautifully manicured grass everywhere. Slewing sideways, we bounded up onto the shoulder of the interstate with howls from the massive off-road tires. Amy and I hung on for dear life.

Still floored, the driver pounded down the rough shoulder until we were up to speed and neatly merged with traffic. The whole crazy church scene was quickly left behind us and I resolved that his tip would be a huge one. He'd get at least enough to be able to take a week off and get out of town until things cooled off a bit. If the boys couldn't take their revenge out on me, there was no telling who might be considered a worthy substitute.

Amy looked like she had something to say, but I held her off for just a moment and made a quick phone call. They weren't expecting me for at least another half an hour and I needed them to expedite the process a bit. At last, with the necessary arrangements made, I turned my full attention to her.

"I am so, so sorry about all that, Amy," I said shamefacedly. It was ludicrously short of the apology I really should have been making. A sufficient apology for something like what I had just done probably doesn't exist.

"Where are we going?"

Seemingly, she wasn't ready to talk about what had happened back there yet.

"The airport. The plane leaves in fifteen minutes."

"But there's only one flight per day and it doesn't leave until five." She knew the schedule well, having arranged for the arrival of a lot of out of town guests.

"Don't worry, Amy. I've made other arrangements."

She lapsed into silence. I could see the wheels turning and didn't want to disrupt her. I leaned forward and popped the door of the mini-fridge open. It was stocked with a nice variety of champagne and fine wines, seemingly none the worse for wear from our off-road adventure. She indicated a can of diet cola. I snagged two - the Dom would go unopened on this trip.

We sat in silence for the ten-minute drive. I wanted to try and explain why I had done what I'd done, but her countenance was lost in contemplation as she sipped her drink. I left her alone.

At last we exited the interstate, drove onto the grounds of the municipal airport and rolled out onto the civil aviation apron. The engines of the chartered Gulfstream V were whining smoothly as we pulled up. Her jaw dropped.

"Is this for us?" she gasped as the driver opened the door. 

"Well, I was planning on being the only passenger, but I guess there's probably room for two."

The Hummer's door opened and Amy smiled for the first time since leaving the church. I slipped the wide-eyed driver some big bills and advised him to watch his back, then helped Amy up the steps and into the spacious cabin. The plane's steward carried my one suitcase to the baggage compartment in the back.

I had occasionally flown on private jets while on tour, usually older Lear 23's, but this one was like nothing I'd ever seen before. The charter manager had proudly told me over the phone that morning that the interior furnishings of this intercontinental-range jet had accounted for three million of its forty-five million dollar price tag. From the look of the rich woods, fine leather and custom engraved crystal appointments; I'd have to say that the three million had been well spent. We wouldn't need the jet's intercontinental range for this trip, though.

The copilot sealed the door and the jet started rolling. 

"Welcome aboard," she said with smile. "We should be landing in Bonners Ferry in about three hours." She turned and disappeared into the cockpit.

Amy looked at me with a questioning look on her face.

"I was planning on spending a few days of quiet, solitary vacation at my cabin up in northern Idaho," I told her. "Care to join me?"

I held my breath. The fact that Amy had escaped the church with me didn't mean I could assume she was ready to travel halfway across the continent and shack up. She nodded though.

I had my back to him, but the steward seemed to be taking an awfully long time stowing my bag. Finally he reappeared and helped us find the seat belts concealed in our butter-soft leather sofa. The jet was pounding down the taxiway at an alarming pace. Per my instructions from the limo, the crew was cutting all legal corners to get us airborne as quickly as possible.

"Congratulations on your nuptials," the steward said. "I just have to say that the two of you make a lovely couple." 

Amy and I looked at each other. She was in her wedding dress and I was in the Armani tux I used for the obligatory Hollywood black tie events. What else was he to think? By the way he looked at me, though, I could tell that he knew who I was. Oh well, this was going to be all over the tabloids by Monday anyway.

The steward strapped into the jump seat in the forward galley and gave the high sign to the flight crew just as the pilot pivoted the plane onto the runway. We were starting our takeoff roll when I peered out the window and saw a big BMW racing across the tarmac. They were mere seconds too late. I leaned back and put my arm around Amy as we lifted away.

With a light fuel load, only two passengers and no luggage to speak of, the ridiculously overpowered jet climbed like a fighter plane. Minutes later we leveled off at our announced cruising altitude of fifty-one thousand feet, miles above any commercial traffic.

Amy hadn't said a word since coming aboard. She unstrapped and moved away from me, taking the seat facing me. She may not have been ready to have this discussion in the limo, but she sure seemed to be ready now. The steward seemed to sense the seriousness of this situation. Closing the galley door quietly, he left us to ourselves.

Amy was looking at me with an eerily neutral expression. I hadn't been looking forward to this.

"Why did you do it, Tim?"

I still didn't completely know why myself, but I answered her as best as I could.

"Look Amy, after last night I figured that you'd never want to speak to me again. But from the way you acted with me yesterday, I think something in my subconscious told me that there was something more to your problems with Clint than just your sex life."

She still wasn't saying anything so I continued.

"I still wouldn't have done anything about it, because I thought that the two of you would still be good together. Amy, what set me off was the look on his face when he had to help you put on his ring."

"Huh?"

"Yeah, it happened as soon as you two turned away from the congregation and he probably thought no one could see him. You were watching the pastor and the pastor had his face down in the book, but I could see it from where I was sitting. Amy, he was completely put out with you because you couldn't put his stupid ring on. His look of disgust was downright spooky."

She nodded. "I'm not surprised. He tends to be somewhat intolerant of my faults."

I was taken aback by how she could be so cavalier about that kind of mistreatment. I reached across to her and put my hands on her shoulders. I wanted her to understand just how serious I was about what I was going to say next.

"Intolerant of your faults? Amy, this was right in the middle of your wedding! If there was one time when he should have been able to overlook anything, that would be the time. I don't care how handsome or rich or well connected he is, a man who would do that doesn't deserve you."

Her head dropped and she could no longer meet my eyes. I could feel her starting to sob, but I wasn't done yet.

"The way he snapped and took a swing at me surprised me for sure, but it didn't take that to tell me that he was wrong for you. You're better than that, Amy. I can't believe you almost married him."

Amy covered her face with her hands and cried. I stayed where I was with my hands on her shoulders, not too close, letting her get it out. Finally she managed to pull herself together. I reached over and grabbed a couple of tissues out of the built-in dispenser and handed them to her. She dabbed at her eyes until she was ready to talk again.

"Tim, I never told anyone about the way he was treating me. When we first started dating he treated me like a princess, but over the last few months he seemed to change. It was like now that we were engaged he could let his hair down. I came to realize that Clint was looking for a perfect little wife to host his perfect society parties, live in his perfect house and give him perfect little children, nothing more.

"He hid it well for a long time, but I figured out that he never loved me near as much as he loves his firm or his house or even his precious BMW. But he read me like a book - since we were already engaged, I was too embarrassed to try and back out of it."

Poor girl. I wasn't sure I wanted to know what she had been through with him.

"Well, Amy, I guess I'm not sorry for stepping in, but I am sorry my timing was so bad. If I was going to question your love for him, I should have done it when it was just us. It was completely wrong for me to have forced you into that kind of situation in front of all of those people." 

Amy looked back up at me, her eyes streaming tears. Somehow though, she looked almost happy.

"No, Tim, don't be sorry. If you had done it any other way, I'd have blown you off. Even at the alter, if he hadn't forced the issue and yelled at me, I would have told you that I loved him. I wanted my perfect wedding so badly that I was willing to endure about anything to get it." 

Then she smiled.

"But do you know what? It would have been a lie." Her voice just a whisper now. "You're the one I love. I've always loved you and always will." She was on the verge of crying again. "Tim, you rescued me from my foolish pride back there. I want to thank you."

I slipped to my knees in front of her and took her hands in mine. I couldn't believe I was about to go way out on a limb again. The audacity of my busting up her wedding was nothing compared to this. Did I mention that I can be a bit obsessive at times? 

"There's only one form of thanks I could ask for. I love you Amy, will you marry me?"

I was presuming a whole lot here, and my judgment of what women were feeling toward me didn't have the best track record lately. A desire to get married should be about the last thing on her list of happy things to do right now.

Amy slipped to her knees in front of me and looked me in the eyes.

"Of course I'll marry you, you crazy, impulsive fool," she said through her tears with a contented smile. "There is another form of thanks I was thinking of though. It's something I've been saving for twenty-three years."

"You don't want to wait for our, uh, wedding night?" Wow! Wedding night? Me?

"No, my fairy tale fantasies are behind me now. I'm with the man I truly love and the reality is much better than any storybook. Please, Tim, I want you to make me yours right now."

I didn't say another word, taking her head in my hands and kissing her tenderly. However, her kiss in return was a lot more like the one that had made me lose control the afternoon before. Amy obviously didn't want some long dreamy build up.

"Oh God, Tim. Don't make me wait. I just have to have you inside me!"

Still kneeling in front of me, her hands began to frantically work at my belt buckle. She was having little success, so I reached in and took over. The cumber bund stayed on, but my trousers and boxers were soon around my knees. Amy took my manhood in her hands and gave it a quick squeeze. It had started from zero about twenty seconds ago, but I could feel it hardening rapidly as she caressed it.

Quickly, she sprang to her feet and began bunching her wedding dress up around her waist. As soon as the multitudes of layers were out of the way, she sat back on her train in the chair, lifted her hips and looked at me desperately. I could take a hint as well as the next guy. I reached up and slipped her panties down her legs, taking with them her pantyhose, shoes and ceremonial garter. I threw the whole wad into the corner.

As I watched them land, I caught motion in the mirror out of the corner of my eye. Crap! I was going to have to deal with that. Now was not the time, though.

Amy spread her legs wide and I moved forward to meet her. She took me in her hands again and aimed my nearly hard member straight for her rapidly moistening center.

"Please, Tim, do it now."

As I came to full hardness, I gently slid into her just a little, wanting to make this as painless as possible under the circumstances. Amy was having none of this, however. She leaned forward, wrapped her hands around my butt cheeks and pulled me all the way into her with one massive tug. I felt her hymen tear as I was rammed home. This wasn't the way I would have envisioned entering her for the first time, but after all that had happened that day, it felt very right.

Amy yelped as I took her virginity, then clung tightly to me and began to cry on the shoulder of my tux coat. I just held still, buried to the hilt in a place where nothing had ever been before. The sheer wet tightness of her was not to be believed. I could feel every inch of her insides pressing close around me. It was like I had never been with a woman before.

"I'm so sorry Tim," Amy said with a sniffle, "but I just had to be rid of the stupid thing. It ruled my life for so long and where did it get me? I lost you for five years and almost married a narcissistic jerk because of the way I worshipped it. I even tricked you into screwing my eighty-seven year old great aunt because of it. 

"And then I can't believe what I let you think about poor Carlotta. She was so confused after you left the dinner last night, I had to make up a really lame story to try to explain it to her. She would never have come up your room with me; she's totally devoted to her husband. He's still in rehab for the burns he got pulling her out of the wreckage – the witnesses said he went back into the flames six times."

Amy seemed to pull herself back into the moment. This hardly seemed the time to discuss her friends lives.

"I'm just glad it's gone and I can be myself with you," she said. "You feel so incredibly good deep inside me, I never want you to leave."

I didn't say a word. In her sudden burst of speech, she'd said it all. I just began to slowly move back and forth inside of her. She moaned and squeezed me even tighter in her arms. Part of me couldn't believe this was happening. Amy, the girl of my dreams, was making love with me and had agreed to be my wife. All of the sweet success I'd had in the music industry paled in comparison to the joy I felt at that moment. I reflected that my music might have just been a means to this end.

Amy's moment of frantic need seemed to be over, because she released her grip on me, leaned back and began to undress me.

"This time I want you to make love to me with no limits and nothing between us at all," she murmured.

We never stopped our languid lovemaking, but as relaxed as could be, we managed to remove what remained of each other's clothing. At last, just as she had requested, we were two naked lovers, finally able to indulge each other completely.

Amy wrapped her smooth, bare legs around my back and held me motionless inside her, buried to the hilt. She kissed me heartily while rhythmically squeezing my cock with surprisingly strong muscles. She pressed her legs even tighter around me.

"Please, Tim, take me to bed."

Bed? What bed? I decided to trust her though and picked her up in my arms, my manhood still buried deep. I turned toward the back of the plane. Sure enough, the reason the steward had taken so long in back was that he had folded one of the sofas flat and made it up with red satin sheets. That was very good thinking, I reckoned. It was just what newlyweds would probably have wanted. When we were done here, I'd have to go easier on him than I'd planned to.

As luck would have it, I was carrying her through the narrow section beside the lav when we hit a small pocket of turbulence. I stumbled and turned, gently pushing her back up against the padded wall. I slipped most of the way out of her as I turned, but pushed all the way back in as I held her up against the quilted leather. She gasped.

"Oh God, Tim, do that again!"

I withdrew so that only my head was encased in her slick warmth, then as firmly as I thought appropriate for one so recently deflowered, I thrust back in until our pubic bones pressed tightly to each other. She gasped as I impaled her. I backed out and repeated the move, once, then twice. She silently urged me to go harder and faster so I started pounding into her with abandon, again and again. Her depth was amazing, allowing me plunge all the way. I could feel every last little bit of her, from her exceptionally tight entrance, to the succulent ridges of her middle passage and clear to the tip of her cervix, which I grazed lightly at the top of each stroke.

"Oh God, Tim. That feels so... so... so..."

Her voice trailed of into something incoherent, but I understood exactly what she had been trying to say. I felt it too. I had never made love like this before. With groupies and the occasional girlfriend, sex had worked to fill a physical need, to tickle a sexual itch that needed to be scratched, but little more. This time it was a personal, spiritual and emotional itch that needed to be scratched – and hard. I wanted to be one with Amy in every sense of the word.