Revenge of the Bridesmaids (11 page)

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

Brenda did at least get my hair and makeup back up to snuff, or the closest to snuff that was possible.  I convinced myself to put on a brave face, to keep my head held high, and to preserve what remained of my dignity at all costs.

I passed Cliff in the hall.  He had a young lady on his arm.  Sure, she was cute, but would she blow him in an alcove like I did?  Not likely.

“Hi, Cliff,” I said with a smile and a sweet little wave of my hand.  The young lady glared at me, and her eyes scanned me, as if she were assessing a threat like the Terminator.  When she got down to my bare feet, she sneered.  Why a sneer?  What did she see?

“What?” Cliff said.  He honestly looked like he couldn’t remember me, but then said, “Oh, yeah, hi.”  A smirk crossed his lips as we passed on by each other.

“Who the hell is that?” I heard the young lady ask Cliff.

“Some skank,” Cliff replied as they kept walking.  “She’s nothing.”

Wow.  Yeah, it was special for me too, Cliff.  Geez.  First Devon tosses me aside, and then Cliff dismisses me.  It was going to be a challenge to keep my head held high. 

The wedding was winding down.  The band was still playing, but the cake had been cut, and the newlyweds were gone, off to their honeymoon. I must have been upstairs moping for longer than I thought.  I scanned the room.  Cassie was sitting at the dais, drinking alone.  Her eyes lit up when she saw me.

I padded up to the dais, scooped up my heels, and stood next to Cassie while I slipped into my shoes.  I’d have more dignity with my shoes on, or at least that was my hope.  Plus, they made me feel sexier.  Walking around barefoot basically advertised that I was the round-heeled Wedding Slut—a term I no longer wanted to embrace.  These groomsmen were treating me like I was an inanimate toy, and not a person with feelings.  They might be good looking, but they were not good people.

“So?” Cassie asked.  “How was Devon?  Sit and spill, sister.”

She called me sister!  I’d never been so relieved to feel a connection of any sort to another person.  Devon and Cliff had made me feel low, and worthless.  Cassie, my crazy friend who had a huge grudge against me, called me sister.  I bent over and hugged Cassie with all my might.

“Wow!” Cassie said.  “Aren’t you the affectionate one?  Devon got you all worked up, I see.”  She patted the chair beside her.  “So?” she asked, her eyes aglow.  “How was he?”

I sat down next to Cassie, and then I lied to her.  “Devon was great.”  It seemed like what she wanted to hear.  What was a little white lie between friends?

“I thought he would be!”  Cassie clapped her hands and then dropped her voice to a whisper.  “Were you able to swallow all of him?  Brenda told me he’s huge.”

“I didn’t go down on him at all,” I said.

Cassie started to frown, and I sensed that she was thinking I hadn’t met my obligation.

“He went down on me,” I said.

Cassie’s face lit up.  “Holy moly!  I’d never have thought you’d be my hero, but wow.”  She bounced in her seat.  “And then…”

“What makes you think there was an and-then?” I asked playfully.  It was as if I were flirting with Cassie, and I liked the feeling—it brought me back to nicer days, days before I had roofied Cassie, happy days.  Smiling, I picked up a watered down drink and sipping at it—the world’s saddest G&T.

“Sister, don’t con a lawyer,” Cassie replied.  “Guys don’t go down on a woman without an and-then.  You already said you didn’t blow him.”  Cassie had always been so fun to tease.  Being a bundle of energy to begin with, Cassie reacted to teasing as quickly as the ticklish reacted to being tickled.

I leaned over and whispered into Cassie’s ear, running my palm along the soft skin behind her shoulders.  “He unzipped my dress and stripped me naked,” I said sultrily.  “Devon kept his tux on, but he pulled out that massive cock, and I couldn’t believe my eyes.  There was no way, just no way.  I wasn’t going to fuck him.  That wasn’t my plan, but he said I’d beg for it.  Devon’s cock was so massive, there was no chance I’d let him shove that in me.  Beg him?  He was wrong.  I wasn’t going to beg for it.”

“Oh, God,” Cassie said.  “Did you beg him?  You did, didn’t you!”

“His head settled between my legs, and his lips and tongue performed their magic down there.  Devon is very skilled at that.  Before I knew it I was begging him to put his fat cock inside me.”

Cassie squealed and threw her arms around me.  “Devon was your first.  My little Amber is a woman now!  Did it hurt?”

“Brenda was right.  Devon is huge.  His cock stretched me to the point that I lost my mind.”

Cassie’s breathing was short and excited.  “And then?” she asked.

I buried my face in Cassie’s neck and said, “And then he came inside me.”  I left out the part about Devon leaving abruptly, or his stealing my three hundred dollars.  Cassie was enjoying the story too much.

Cassie and I let go of each other, and she took a sip of her drink.  Pointing her finger at me, Cassie said softly, “You
are
my hero.” Her eyes smiled, and she said wistfully, “I should so try and hook up with Devon.”

I patted Cassie’s bouncing leg.  Cassie, my old study buddy, the girl I’d thought might be the one, was all worked up over Devon, the uber-creep.  The urge to protect her from pain welled up in me.

“Cassie,” I said, “you can do so much better.  A smart, beautiful woman like you?  You deserve better than the likes of Devon.”

Cassie’s knee stopped bouncing, and she looked at me carefully.  We’d been friends a long time.  She could read between the lines.  Cassie knew I was leaving things out about Devon.  Being a smartie, Cassie could tell I was speaking in her best interest.  The old me wouldn’t have done that.

Cassie shook her head slowly, side to side. 

“What?” I asked.  “It’s true.”

“Thank you, Andy,” Cassie said.  “It’s just…you’re so…that truly means a lot to me.”

I was about to tell Cassie to call me Amber when a waiter placed a fresh G&T alongside a can of Coors Light.  “I didn’t order…” I said.

“Wasn’t sure which you’d like, so I brought both,” the waiter replied.  I looked up at him.  Sandy hair, a bit cock-sure…I knew him.

“Tony!” I cried.  “You work here?”

“Yeah.  They invited me to the bachelor party, mainly to guard the beer cooler.  I thought it was a crap job, until you showed up.”  I remembered making out with Tony, and how sweetly he kissed, and how gently he stroked me.  I blushed—Tony must have still been there when Donna and I were dancing up on the bench, and when I pulled up my sweater.

“Did you like my little show?” I asked, my eyes darting down.

“Very much so.  You have a beautiful…free spirit.”  Someone called out Tony’s name.  Tony was being summoned by the headwaiter.  “I have to go,” he said, and then walked away.

“Who’s that?” Cassie asked.

I grinned madly.  “A guy I made out with last night.”

“And then?” Cassie asked, her eyebrows arching.

“No,” I replied.  “No and-then.”  An and-then with Tony might have been nice.  He was no Devon.  Tony seemed sweet.  Too bad.

I chugged the beer, thinking of Tony.  I wished he’d brought two.  Oh, well.  I put down the empty can and moved onto the G&T.

“We have trouble, sister,” Cassie said.  Sister!  I loved Cassie calling me sister—it made me feel we might be on a healing path in our relationship.

“What?”

“Look at table three.  Javier and Art seem to be hooking up with those two girls who are getting up to go to the bathroom.”  Cassie stood up quickly.  “I’ll follow them to the bathroom and see if I can learn anything, like if the girls are serious.  You go hit on Javier and Art.  If you can get them to double-team you, then it’s mission accomplished.  You’ll have bagged all the groomsmen.”

“Are you helping me?”

“Yeah,” Cassie said.  “I guess I am.  You seem…I don’t know…different.  Better.  More like the Andy I first met than the Andy you became.”  Cassie looked away from me on that last part, but I caught the darkness in her gaze. 

I polished off the G&T—my courage serum—and pushed back my chair.  Devon had made me feel so horrible that I was ready to quit, and let the bridesmaids file charges against me.  I was starting to think maybe I deserved that.  But reconnecting with Cassie—over that asshole Devon, of all things—put a new hope in me.  At one point I’d valued my relationship with Cassie—and my relationships with Donna and Brenda, and now I did again.  Perhaps I could win them back.  There was one way to find out, and it started with completing the mission the bridesmaids had given me.  All I needed to do was seduce Javier and Art.  How hard could that be?

Before I got up, my eyes came upon Cassie’s purse sitting on the dais.  She hadn’t taken it with her to the ladies room.  Earlier, Cassie said he antidote was inside her purse.  Had Cassie left it there as a test?  What good would the antidote do me?  If I didn’t have sex with Javier and Art, then Cassie would file the rape charges.  Maybe not, but if I cheated the game, I was sure to lose all the goodwill Cassie was showing me right now.  Sure, I’d be back in my male body, but I’d be a fugitive from the law, or in jail with a rape record.

Wait a minute.  What if they didn’t give me the antidote?  Then I’d be stuck like this, in my Amber body, with no job, no identification, no credentials.  I’d end up waiting tables, or taking my clothes off for a living.  I should grab the antidote now, just as insurance.  After all, I only had their word that I’d get it if I had sex with all the groomsmen.  What if they went back on their word? 

My hand reached out for the purse.

But then I stopped, and stood up.  It wasn’t for the reasons I’d already run through.  No.  It was for a better reason.  Cassie seemed to forgive me, at least a bit, for the roofie incident.  I still didn’t think I did anything wrong by using the roofies, but Cassie, Brenda, and Donna felt hurt, and that was obviously real to them.  Seeing Cassie smile at me had a strong effect.  I wanted that feeling back, from all three of my friends.  No matter what I had to do.

I rose to my feet and strolled over to table three.

I was going to seduce Javier and Art.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

I eased out the chair between Javier and Art, and I moved to sit down, saying, “Hi guys.”

“Someone is sitting there,” Art said.  His eyes darted in the direction of the ladies room.  Perhaps if those girls found me with their beaus, they’d give up on Art and Javier.  That would certainly make my task easier.

“Yes,” Javier said.  “We have some lady friends that wouldn’t take kindly to a beautiful woman talking with us.”  Out of Art’s sight, Javier ran the back of his hand behind my knee.  It reminded me of how gently Tony had caressed me while I sat on his lap in the gazebo—very sweet.

I placed a hand on each of their shoulders and said, “Just a bridesmaid checking on her groomsmen.  Have you gotten everything you want?”

“We’re trying to,” Art said.  “Now scram before you ruin it.”

“Yes,” Javier agreed.  “Please, beautiful lady.  You must go.”  Javier’s smooth Latin voice purred when he spoke, and his dazzling smile was never far away.  I could see where some women would think Javier was gorgeous.

Javier was a ball of contradictions.  He was telling me to leave, but his hand was traveling up under my dress.  Gorgeous and confident!  I caught my breath as he squeezed the top of my inner thigh, where my flesh was soft and tender.  My palm stroked the back of Javier’s head, with its short black hair.  His locks  were fine and silky smooth.  Glints of blue shimmered in the blackness of his hair.

“Such a handsome, confident man,” I said to Javier.

“I am both of those things,” he replied.

Javier’s big brown eyes stared up at me from beneath his heavy black eyebrows.  His coffee skin spoke of the exotic and mysterious.  His relaxed gaze gave the impression he was up for anything.  Javier stroked the inside of my thigh, his hand hidden by my dress.  I forced myself to turn my gaze back to Art before I succumbed to the need to swim in Javier’s pools of Latin delight.  A woman needed a life preserver to be within arm’s length of Javier. 

“You’re Art, right?  I’m Amber,” I said, holding out my hand to Art.  “Pleased to meet you.”

“You too,” Art replied, “but unless you’re going to crawl under this table and blow me, I need you to leave.”  How rude!  Who did he think he was?  For crying out loud, it wasn’t as if Art looked half as good as Javier!

“Crawl under the table and blow you?” I said.  “Is that any way to talk to a lady?”

“No, it’s not,” Art replied.  “But I hear you’re no lady.  So crawl under this table and blow me, right now, or bug off.”  What a pig!  I looked back to my Latin smoothie.

Javier took a sip from his martini, looking as blasé as could be, but his hand, up inside my dress, grabbed hold of my butt cheek.  Between last night and today, I’d had my butt squeezed and pinched so many times, I was almost inured, but Javier’s grip was different.  It had a palpable hunger to it.  I opened my mouth to speak, but then, without overture, Javier pushed a finger inside my virgin butthole.  Oh my!  My posture instantly improved—my spine was stiff as a yardstick, and my legs sang with tension. 

“Oh,” I said, “you ARE a confident man.”  He smiled.  Such nice teeth. 

“I know what I want.” 

Javier’s finger slid in and out of my rear, slowly, and repeatedly.  My sphincter suckled on his fingertip, closing on him as he slipped out, almost yearning for him.  I grew disgusted with myself for not pushing Javier away, yet I didn’t push him away.

My eyes scanned the room.  Javier continued to bugger me.  No one seemed to notice.  What a pig.  How brazen!  What did it say about Javier that he’d molest my bunghole while a hundred people milled about us?  What did it say about me that I didn’t yell at him, or push him off?  I kept my palm on Javier’s hair and gazed down at him with my eyes hooded and my lips parted.  What did that say about me? 

It wasn’t accurate, whatever all that seemed to say about me, because I was on a mission, assigned by the bridesmaids, and that was my true motivation.  If Javier read my submission to him differently, then so be it.  I had very little time left.

My hand stroked Javier’s hair while his finger slid in and out of my pucker.  We smiled at each other.  I had to make him believe I liked being his toy.  I found that easy to sell.

“Javier here,” I said to Art, “knows how to treat a woman.” 

“Hey guys,” one of Art and Javier’s lady friends as they walked towards us.  “Sorry we took so long.”  She jerked her thumb at me.  “Who’s your friend?”

The table and my dress blocked any view of what Javier was doing to me.  He showed no sign of stopping.  I tried my best to sound like I had composure—a total deception.

“Oh, I’m Amber,” I said.  “Just a bridesmaid.  I’m saying goodbye.  I have to hit the coatroom and go.”  Javier slipped out of me with a little pop that I felt more than heard, and I shivered.  The girls fixed me with icy glares as I walked back to the dais.  They hadn’t noticed a thing, except that I’d had my hands on their men. 

I strolled right over to Cassie, who stood by the dais.

“Good news, I think,” Cassie said.  We didn’t even bother to sit at the dais.  “Well, fifty-fifty.  Bad news is, the woman with Art is his fiancée.  Good news is, in the bathroom Javier’s girl was complaining that he asked her how she felt about anal.  From the disgust in her tone, I’d say she responded negatively.  So, Javier is in play, but Art might be unattainable.”

“One step at a time,” I said, sucking the lime out of my G&T.  I started to walk away.

“Where are you going?” Cassie asked.

“I have a rendezvous with Javier in the coatroom, I think.”

“You are really something,” Cassie said.  She called out after me, saying, “Work it.  Work it.  Yeah baby.  Who’s sexier than you?  No one, that’s who!”  I rolled my hips and shook my butt for her.  Cassie got a kick out of it.  I liked seeing her smile.

I didn’t head straight for the coatroom, but instead stopped off at the open bar for a fresh G&T.  I had a feeling I’d need it.  Geez, how many had I drank so far?  My adrenaline had been so jacked all day that I barely felt their effect.  I reminded myself to drink a lot of water before bedtime.

Strutting across the dance floor, drink in hand, I watched Javier in the wall mirror.  After I passed by his table, Javier excused himself and got up.  I headed straight for the coatroom.  The hallway was crowded, but I figured that would be a good place to rendezvous. We could head up to the Bride’s Chamber or back to my cabin from there.  I hoped Javier would show up.

There was no check girl.  It was such a beautiful day that no one had worn a coat.  I put my drink on the half-door where the coat check girl would stand, right on the shelf where the tip jar would go.

Hmm.  The coatroom was empty.  I opened the door’s bottom half and slipped inside.  As the crowd milled on out, I stood there as if I were the coat check girl.  The men tended to smile.  The women, if they acknowledged me at all, seemed to look down on me.

I watched Javier’s face as he entered the hallway.  He didn’t see me.  He looked befuddled, which I liked.  When I gave him a little wave, a smile broke across his face.  Javier sauntered over.  I sipped on my straw-stirrer and wet my lips.

“Can I get you something?” I asked Javier when he stood outside the door.

“Yes,” he said, leaning forward conspiratorially, his white smile flashing.  “I need a whore.”

Well, cut right to the chase, why don’t you?  Javier might be the most presumptuous man I’d ever met.  Sure, plenty of guys had grabbed me, but none of them shoved a finger up my ass.  What kind of a man was Javier?  The rational part of my mind told me to slam the top half of the door in his face.  But the other part of my mind was in charge.  I opened the door for him and let him in.

Once inside the coatroom, Javier pushed both halves of the door shut and spun me around.  I craned my neck and reached my lips up to kiss him, but Javier shoved my shoulders down and I ended up sprawled on the floor, back against the door.

“Dirty whore,” he said.

By the time I got over my surprise, Javier had his cock out and he was slapping me in the face with it.  “Suck my cock, whore.”  He dug a hand in my hair.  My lips instinctively shut as his cockhead ran across them.  What an asshole!

“Open,” he said.

It was all happening so fast I barely had time to process.  I parted my lips a bit, and then I heard my jaw crack as Javier shoved his cock inside me.  Holy Jawbreakers!  Instant stomach probe!  My eyes bulged out of their sockets.

When I’d blown Cliff, I had time to build up and relax my throat.  Not so with Javier.  The back of my throat popped as his cock crashed down into it.  Panic filled my brain.  I never realized a throat could be so soundly violated.  Would he tear the flesh of my esophagus?  I’d choke to death on my own blood! 

I could barely breath.  My palate was so constricted by the size of Javier’s cock that even breathing through my nose only brought a little stream of precious oxygen.  Javier took his hand out of my hair.  He didn’t need to hold me in place.  He had my head on a pike—his pike.

Tears streamed down my cheeks.  Javier pounded his hips forward, and my head rapped against the door.  He pulled himself back and then thrust into me again.  My head knocked on the door once more.  Javier picked up some steam, and my throat was as busy as a motor cylinder.  Someone in the hall asked if everything was okay.  Javier shouted he was fine.  Thick stringy bile oozed out over my chin.  I was glad for the bile, because it lubricated the cock-piston that was ramming in and out of my throat.  Bile shot up my nose, and I became afraid I would suffocate.  The rank stench of Javier’s crotch kept sailing into my nostrils.  The only place I could look was up, at Javier.

Javier sneered down at me. 

This was different, so different, from when I went down on Cliff.  Sure, Cliff had called me a skank later on in the hallway, but when I blew him in the alcove Cliff looked down on me with wonder—he even smiled affectionately.  There was no affection in Javier’s gaze.  Javier’s face was a frightening blend of contempt and menace.

Another difference was I had been in control of the blowjob I gave Cliff.  I had no control now.  Javier’s cock kept tearing into my mouth.  Did this even count as a blowjob?  I didn’t think so.

I beat lamely at Javier’s legs.  It did no good.  He kept throat-fucking me. I dug my nails into the soft skin behind his knees—no help at all.  Squirming and squealing, I tried to get to my feet, but my face was pierced by his cock—I wasn’t going anywhere.  His cock consumed me in both body and mind.  My hands slid about beside me, looking for something to hit Javier with, but I found nothing.  He rose up over me like Pharaoh over the Egyptians, and I was helpless.  He fucked my mouth.

In the end, I held onto his knees and tried to press my head back against the door, to cut down on the banging.  No sense in getting a skull fracture.  Having no choice, I surrendered my mouth to him.  My jaw ached.  Over and over, his cock rode along my tongue and ripped down my throat, making my neck bulge.  Javier was indomitable.  My eyes pleaded with him.  He sneered down at me.

Javier despised me.

I felt myself getting wet…down there.

Realization dawned slowly, but with inevitability.  I wasn’t a person in Javier’s eyes, nor Devon’s, nor Cliff’s.  For all they cared, I might as well have been a jerk-off sock, something a guy shoves his dick into, and then comes in.  Jerk-off socks ended up hidden between the mattresses or tossed in the trash.  That was me, to them—disposable…insignificant…shameful…worthless.

I got wetter.

I never knew a throat could become so sore from having a cock shoved down it.  As I gagged, I could feel thick phlegm surge and fill my mouth.  Javier skull-fucked me, and his cock’s assault resulted in loud wet slaps that made my mouth sound like the most aroused of dripping cunts.

The ravaging of my mouth was humiliating, which would normally turn me on, but it didn’t.  Sure, my pussy was dripping, but arousal is mostly in the mind, and my mind was not aroused.  This was a different kind of humiliation than what I’d enjoyed with Donna.  When Donna humiliated me, Donna was playful, and her affection for me ran through it.  Javier, if he noticed me at all, didn’t seem to care.  To him I was just a cock hole, a holster for his manhood, a place to park his penis.

Relief came in small doses.

Javier pulled his dick completely out of my mouth, watched me gasp for air, and then slammed himself back, fully inside me.  My phlegm-coated chin bounced against his hairy balls.  He sneered down at me.  Javier liked watching me suffer.  He repeated this, over and over, pulling out, sparking the hope in me that this might be over, and then stuffing my pie-hole again, over and over.  And Javier sneered, over and over.

I squeezed Javier’s knees while he fucked my mouth hard.  I wished he’d come already.  His cock rammed so deeply down my throat, I wondered if he would damage my vocal chords.  Would I ever speak the same way again?  Would I be forever raspy?  I wondered all these things, and his cock kept stretching my throat wide open.  Dominating me.  Consuming me.  Would my throat ever bounce back?

I hadn’t agreed to this.  My mouth was no longer my own.  Javier Roto-Rootered my esophagus with his cock, putting his whole, powerful, tuxedo-clad, olive skinned body behind his assaults.  He rose up above me like a force of nature…a god.  I squeezed his knees.  Shame swelled up within me.  What was wrong with me?  Why did a part of me find it hot to be under his assault?  Why did part of me get aroused at surrendering myself to such a powerful, confident, handsome man?  Javier was all those things—powerful, confident, and handsome—but he was also a psychotic bad boy.  This was bad.  What Javier was doing to me was bad.