Wedding Heat: Hole In One (MMM)

eXcessica publishing

Wedding Heat: Hole In One
© August 2012 by Giselle Renarde

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This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters
and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or
are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons,
living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely
coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18
years of age or older.

This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It
contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language
which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store
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Cover design © 2012 Giselle
Renarde

First Edition August 2012

A Smashwords Edition

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By Giselle
Renarde

It wasn’t exactly a walk of shame. Or maybe
it was. This was Joey’s first time making his way home in wrinkled,
grass-stained clothes after spooning a guy he’d just met under the
open sky.

Not that he was
going
home
,
exactly. He fished through his pocket for the electronic room key,
but he worried what he’d find on the other side of that door. He
could just imagine the scowl on his mother’s face. “Where have you
been, young man? I was worried sick!”

And then his dad would chime in with
something like, “We realize you’re an adult, Joe. We only ask that
you check in with us if you’re spending the night elsewhere.” Or
maybe dad would be in one of his money moods and say, “If I’d known
you were going to bunk with someone else, I’d have saved a few
bucks on this overpriced resort room. Your mother, your sister and
I could have slept in the car at the side of the highway.”

Joey smiled despite the twanging pain in his
temple and the thickness of his tongue. He slid his key through the
slot. When the red light turned green, he opened the door and…

What the hell? Is that…is that… Mom
Butt?

Pulling the door shut, Joey
stood in the hall with his eyes closed tight. He could taste his
stomach contents—primarily vodka—at the back of his throat, and
forced himself to breathe slowly. All he kept seeing was…
ugh, Mom Butt
!

“What are you doing out here, ass wipe?” His
sister came out of nowhere to punch him in the shoulder.

“Fuck!” he hissed, rubbing the spot that was
already bruised from her trademark greetings. “Why do you do
that?”

“Because I know you’d never hit me back,”
she said with a smirk. When he didn’t react, she asked, “Jeeze, who
pissed in your Cheerios?”

He shuddered, reluctant to say the works. “I
just walked in on Mom and Dad.”

Vanessa scrunched up her nose. “Oh,
gross.”

“Yeah, dude.” Joey backed away from the
door. When he got a head-to-toe look at Vanessa, he laughed hard
enough to make his head pound. “What the fuck happened to you?”

His sister had looked pretty damn dapper
when they’d headed out for cocktails last night. Their cousin
Maggie was marrying some dude on Sunday, and for some reason they
had to waste an entire weekend at this wedding resort place hanging
out with their lame-ass family. Anyway, this morning the hem of
Vanessa’s pinstriped pants was halfway to her knees, her white
shirt looked two sizes too small, and her suspenders were buckled
and frayed.

She shrugged. “They shrunk in the
dryer.”

Joey pressed one hand to his temple. “The
dryer? Where the hell were you last night?”

“Where the hell were
you
?” She poked him in
the shoulder, drawing his attention to a grass-green
streak.

No way he’d tell his big sister about his
first time, even though she’d surely be proud it was with another
guy. He shifted the conversation, asking, “How are you so chipper?
You drank more than I did last night.”

With a teasing smirk, Vanessa pulled her key
card out of her pocket. It looked totally warped, like it had been
in the microwave or something. She rapped on the door and their
mother took her time answering it. Thank god she was dressed in a
robe—he’d have preferred a parka, but it was better than
nothing.

“Oh,” their mother said, cinching the top of
her robe with one hand. “I thought you were room service. Well,
come in, kids.”

She obviously had no idea Joey’d walked in
on them doing the nasty not five minutes earlier.

“Would you look at the time! Your father and
I must have slept in,” Mom went on, seeming a little flustered and
sheepish. “So, where did you two spend the night, hmm?”

Joey was amazed by how casually the question
was put to them. It was almost as if she didn’t care.

“I sweet-talked that pretty girl at the
front desk into letting us use an extra room on the sly.” Vanessa
lied so convincingly Joey almost believed her. “We just wanted to
give you and dad some space.”

“Well that was thoughtful.” Their mother
kissed their foreheads and then sputtered. “What, did you bathe in
a distillery? You kids need to cut down on the booze.”

Vanessa rolled her eyes, and Joey watched
her shift from perky to sullen in no time flat. “Way to say thanks
after we did something nice for you.”

“I’m sorry,” Mom said distractedly as she
poked her head out the door. “So, you didn’t see our room service
out there? I could eat a horse.”

“I bet,” Vanessa muttered. “Hey, where’s
Dad?”

“Hmm? Oh, he’s in the shower. Do you think I
should call the front desk?”

Vanessa dug through her suitcase, pulling
out fresh clothes. “So gross…”

Joey followed his sister’s lead, choosing an
outfit while Vanessa stepped behind the ornate screen in the
corner. This resort sure was fancy. None of the boring hotel
furniture you’d find in a chain. Serious antiques and stuff. This
place was the real deal.

Vanessa emerged from behind the screen
wearing her typical studded cargo pants and a T-shirt that read:
“You say DYKE like it’s a bad thing.”

“Oh, honey,” Mom said with a sigh. “What
would your grandmother say?”

“I’ll find out when I see her,” Vanessa
grunted as Joey slipped behind the screen and changed quickly into
fresh clothes. “She’ll be at the stupid spa thingy, right?”

“I thought you weren’t going to that.”

“Yeah,” Joey added. He couldn’t resist
getting a jab in. “I thought you were boycotting the girly spa
thing on lesbian feminist grounds.”

“Whatever,” Vanessa said. “Maggie invited
me, so I’m going.”

A knock at the door interrupted the
conversation and their mother practically drooled as she opened it
to room service. “Finally!” she said when the attendant was gone.
“I’m absolutely famished.”

“There are only two breakfasts here,”
Vanessa complained as their dad stepped out of the bathroom wearing
nothing but a towel and a grin. “Eww, Dad, put some clothes on!
Impressionable youths in the room.”

“You’re not that young,” their dad said.
“I’d been married to your mother four years by the time I was your
age.”

“That’s your tough luck,” Vanessa shot
back.

She picked a piece of bacon off one of the
room service plates, but Mom hit her hand away. “I’m sorry, but you
kids weren’t around so I only ordered breakfast for two. You’ll
have to get your meals in the dining room.”

“I know when I’m not wanted,” Joey spoke up,
grabbing Vanessa by the arm.

As they made their way to the dining room,
the image of his mother’s bare ass kept blazing across Joey’s mind.
That mental picture made his temples throb so hard he pressed his
palms at either side of his head. His sister seemed oblivious to
his pain. He shuddered and tried to think of something non-sexual,
but all he could think about was Greg.

He didn’t come to Maggie’s wedding weekend
expecting to fuck one of the groom’s cousins—and certainly not a
male cousin. Despite his sister being such a huge dyke, Joey had
never hung a label on himself. The way he figured, as long as he
was a virgin he didn’t technically have a sexual orientation. A lot
of people would probably disagree with that. Maybe it was just a
cop-out, just an excuse to delay coming out as… what? Gay or bi?
Vanessa would surely be able to tell him, but no way he was
confiding in her.

They entered the packed dining room, and
made a beeline for the buffet, soon sitting down to stacks of
pancakes, eggs, bacon, and sausage. Notwithstanding the overflowing
plates and the boisterous breakfast hall, Vanessa seemed to be in
the same contemplative mood as Joey.

All he could think about was Greg and the
way they’d woken up at the break of dawn. The sky was an unnatural
shade of blue, like it wanted to stay dark but the sun was forcing
light into it. He’d thought he was dreaming. Everything from the
night before seemed imaginary—the drinking, the skinny dipping, not
to mention meeting Greg and having sex for the first time.

Joey stared at his breakfast sausage,
watching it expand in his mind until it was huge, veined,
red-tipped, and pulsing in Greg’s mouth. He’d never been woken up
like that before, in a haze of dreamy pleasure so good it couldn’t
possibly be real. Greg had rested his head across Joey’s thighs,
fist wrapped lazily around his shaft, sucking slowly.

When Joey realized the blow job wasn’t a
dream he almost jumped, but Greg restrained him. The only option
was to gaze at the woods, lake, embers of a fire. Were there people
around? His heart pounded in his throat at the idea of getting
caught with his dick between another guy’s lips.

“Stop,” he tried to say. The word came out
like a rasp, almost inaudible. “Oh my god.”

Greg started humming and it sounded like
“Mmmm,” like he was savouring the taste of Joey’s skin. Greg’s
mouth was wet and warm, and Joey wondered if that’s what a pussy
would feel like, and he wondered if he’d ever fuck one. He hoped
so, one day. He’d like to be able to compare.

“You awake?” Greg asked around Joey’s shaft,
looking up briefly.

Their gazes met and Greg chuckled, which
made Joey wonder what he looked like in that moment. Bedhead? Or
simply stunned?

“Better than an alarm clock, right?” Greg
held Joey’s dick upright and moved down to his tight balls.

Joey hissed, trying to keep quiet. He knew
his voice would carry over the glass lake they’d swum in last
night. Everything was still and silent. He bit down on his tongue
in hopes that would help, but it only made him whimper like a
puppy.

His body was waking up too fast now, the
pleasure intense enough to be jarring. Greg’s hot, wet mouth sucked
him toward the edge like a satin slipper. God, those slurping
noises. The way Greg gazed up at him adoringly, worshipfully, using
only his mouth—no hands, just a tongue and two lips. Sucking,
diving, swallowing, devouring, until…

“Joey, what are you doing?”

His sister was talking to him, staring
expectantly across the breakfast table like he owed her an answer
to some unheard question.