The Wedding Reception Revisited

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Blimey! This was a bit old school! Piper at the door, dark wood everywhere, pictures, trophies, stewards in uniform; lots of money here. Very, very old golf club, so stuck in the past they probably don’t even allow women members.

Hadn’t been invited to the church service, why would I be? Friend of a friend of the bride; although I had actually met the bride, Jane, a few times at get togethers, pub outings, BBQs and the like, we’d even chatted once or twice but wouldn’t say I knew her well. I’d just happened to mention to my friend that I’d be in Edinburgh the weekend of the wedding. So I’d received an invitation to the reception on the Saturday evening.

Friend had said, “Only problem is it’s black tie.”

“Not a problem at all,” says I; I actually like wearing black tie, so here I am suited and booted.

Seemed that every Scotsman present felt it was compulsory to wear a kilt, but then that was better than the other end of the scale where some people, mostly men it has to be said, no longer knew, or just chose to ignore, what a dress code was.

Dinner and endless speeches go ok, sat at the far end of a long table making small talk with the neighbours. The only relief has been some interesting eye contact with an attractive 50s something with short dark hair sat on the next table over, couldn’t see much of her over the shoulders of those between, but more than one look from her had implied a little more than a passing interest, might be worth exploring later.

I manage to suppress the occasional yawn of boredom, some don’t bother, but eventually the speeches and dinner ends; the smokers make a dash for the exits; others more concerned about the possibility of not getting a drink for ten minutes, scramble for the bar and in the ensuing melee, I lose sight of dark hair, so I also head for the exit to get some, in my case, smoke free air.

Spend about 30 minutes sat outside in the warm evening air at one of the many covered tables set up on the extensive lawn before I decide it’s time to head back inside. The room has been transformed, gone are the long tables and bright lights, a dance floor is now exposed at one end with individual tables on three sides. The lighting is much more subtle, brighter over the dance floor but fading to almost complete darkness at the back. Groups of friends stand or sit round tables as the band begins to play and the bride and groom step up to get things going.

Drink in hand I spend the next half hour wandering around the building; clearly been going for a couple of hundred years and with a real men’s club atmosphere about it, bit stuffy for my liking but if you’re into golf, which I am not, then probably as good as it gets.

Back in the reception and things are already getting loud. Think about finding the friend of a friend and making my excuses but decide it’s a little too early for that, even for me, so I move towards the darker tables to find somewhere to watch proceedings. As I turn I spot 50s something looking directly at me. As we make eye contact she smiles and turns back to the group of people she is chatting with, hmmm even more interesting.

I make a detour and walk close behind her. Good figure, tall, slim, nice bum, firm legs with good calves, works out at a guess; the mid thigh, high necked, sleeveless sparkly black dress shows her figure off well. A very good choice.

I carry on, threading my way through the tables, passing groups of other guests who are either deep in conversation or just watching the antics of others. I aim towards a couple of empty tables right at the back of the room that are lost in the gloom, turn and sit.

Quite amusing, wedding receptions, seems to be the place where guys think it’s ok to forget the niceties of good behaviour, drink as much as they can and then act the fool, then wonder why others get annoyed with them! It was clear that one or two had already overindulged in the free bar, one was being asked to leave and a couple of others were heading that way.

Then, there she was, weaving through the groups of people, occasionally stopping to chat to those she recognised but definitely heading my way. Without a word she steers around the back of my table and stands at my shoulder, a slight contact with her hip. A hand settles on the back of my neck and lightly strokes, I continue to watch the dance floor.

Dropping my own hand I begin to stroke her ankle and foot through the sheer nylon, can’t do much from that angle but just return the contact. She moves round to face me and, pulling up a chair, sits to my right, thigh to thigh. Locking eyes I lean forward and lightly kiss her; her lips are full, moist, soft, receptive; I push my tongue forward and lick her lips, gently probe, they part, I feel the point of her tongue, they dance, twirl. The kiss builds in intensity, lips push together, our heads turn and twist, passions rise….

Her hand settles on my inner thigh, forearm resting, fingertips stroking.

Our mouths break contact escort bayan and we sit back, panting slightly, looking at each other, my own hand settles on her knee, fingers tracing small circles. Her eyes close, a dreamy look on her face, I glance over her shoulder, confident that we can’t be seen in the dark.

Still tracing slow circles my hand opens and strokes up her inner thigh, the electric feel of her skin through the nylon; her legs part, my hand passes under the hem of her dress; the thicker band tells me she’s wearing stockings, I reach her smooth skin, a barely perceptible tremble starts, her mouth parts.

Her skin is soft, so soft I can barely feel it; like milk, like cream. Tiny swirling patterns with my fingertips. Wider circles, knuckles breathe across the crotch of her knickers, she twitches at this briefest of contacts, tiny circles again, her skin flickers, I can feel her heat pushing out.

I lean to her ear, “Take them off, give them to me.”

Without hesitation she half stands and reaches under her dress, pulls them down and takes them off, then hands them to me and sits back down. I put them to my face, breathe her in, she moans, squirms a little, I put them in my pocket.

I put my hand back on her leg, my fingertips continue their dance, her leg trembling; her hand back on my thigh the other gripping the edge of her chair. My knuckles brush her labia, skin to skin, no hair, moist, hot, she squirms a little, eyes squeeze and she bites her bottom lip, tenses, squeezes her thighs together, bucks, gasps and cums, only a small one but unmistakable. Almost as quickly she relaxes, comes back down, settles back in her chair, sighs and smiles.

I give her a minute then my fingers brush up, nails gently dragging across her lower tummy, then down to her sex, touch her, she whispers something, too quiet to understand, the fingers on my thigh start a light tap.

Fingers stroke down her puffy outer lips. Back up, no pressure just a light stroking, she just sits, head down, fingers still tapping my thigh. My fingers stroke up one more time, middle finger extends slightly, barely enters her, becomes slick with her juices, keeps going to find the little hood of flesh and, just touching, stops. She’s quivering again, almost with anticipation.

Start the tiniest of movements against her clit, gentle rubbing, no pattern no stopping; it is small and smooth with a hard core, hot, infused with blood, I imagine running my tongue around it, sucking it into my mouth, teasing it back and forth. I can hear her breath rasping through her teeth as her trembling increases, feet tapping, a quiet murmuring again, her head swaying gently from side to side, she seems to be holding it, savouring it; but I can feel it building within her, feel the pressure increasing, suddenly it hits her, her whole body tenses, the bubble bursts, she throws her head back and her orgasm sweeps through her, wave after wave crashes over her, feet arch, her thighs squeeze together trapping my arm, my fingers crushed against her sex, her hand gripping my thigh. I watch her, watch her face, envy her the intensity of that release, the sheer beauty of it, the sheer pleasure of it.

After what seems an age it slowly subsides, in steps, like slowly releasing a long held breath, she slumps, falls forward, her shoulder against my chest, forehead onto my shoulder. My fingers, released, open and rest on her leg, her breathing slows as small aftershocks catch her, eventually stopping.

We sit like that for three, four, five minutes, nobody bothers us. Then she takes a deep breath, head comes up, eyes open, she blinks and whispers, “Oh my god!” and slowly sits back. I take my hand away, we smile, lean forward and kiss, no passion now, just a soft, gentle kiss, a thank you kiss.

She stands, staggers slightly, adjusts her dress, grins down at me with laughing eyes, turns and walks away.

I watch as she drifts through the tables, slip my hand in my pocket to her knickers…..

Time passes; I have a wander, chat to a couple of people, even find my friend and his wife.

I’m starting to think that it really is time to leave when I spot, hard to miss in that dress really, the bride approaching.

She stops in front of me, smiles, she has one of those very bright, hard to resist smiles.

“Hello Jane, enjoying your day?”

“Yes thank you David. Just been chatting to a good friend of mine actually.”


She laughs, “She says that you’ve just made her evening for her.”

“I have?”

She cocks her head to one side, rather a wicked smile on her face, “Would you like to make my evening for me David?”

I blink, clear my throat and shuffle my feet, “Assumed that was someone else’s job tonight!”

“Can we just say that in that someone’s current condition that that is unlikely to happen, and besides…..,” She left the word hanging and grins.

I grin back at her, “Who am I to refuse a girl on her wedding day?”


I bursa vip escort glance round to the scene of my dalliance with her friend.

Seeing my look, “Oh no, I’m the bride, I have to have more!”

I look into her eyes, there’s an air of excitement about her now,

Thinking, then, “Ok, follow me outside in a minute or two.”

I turn and walk out onto the lawn, it’s fully dark now so I stand on the edge of the pool of light where she can see me when she steps out. After a few minutes, and as I’m beginning to think that she’s changed her mind, she appears at the door, looks around, sees me and walks down the steps in my direction, I step back out of the light and watch her as she crosses the grass walking carefully on her toes, holding her dress up.

Hmmmm that dress might be a challenge!

Reaching me she steps right up against me.

Kisses me.

“Hello David.”

“Hello Jane. You’re not the most inconspicuous girl at the party you know, come on.”

She giggles. I take her hand and lead her further back into the dark to one of the farthest garden tables.

I turn to her and push her against the table edge; hard to see her face in the gloom, just her eyes and the sparkle of teeth.

“This won’t do your lipstick much good you know.”

“You’d be surprised what you can hide in this dress, it’s got a hidden pocket for little things like lipstick.”

“Mmmmm and what other little things are there in there?”

“Well why don’t you see what you can find.”

Again we kiss, a deep, long kiss, lips turning against the others, tongues fighting, bodies pressed together. We break apart, gasping for breath, she starts to fumble with my trouser belt. I step back, get hold of her waist, twist her around, push her against the table again, she grunts and falls forward onto her hands then sinks onto her forearms.

Reaching down I start to lift her heavy skirts, lift them as far as I can get, then; pulling her back slightly I lift the front of the bunched up material and push it onto the table under her, then push the back of it as far up her back as it will go. Bloody hell this was hard work!

Reaching out I grab a chair, might as well be comfortable, and sit down behind her.

Run my hands from her ankles up across her calves to the backs of her knees, the soft smooth texture of her stockings under my fingers, stroking back down the fronts of her legs, back up onto her thighs, the occasional shiver of excitement rippling through her, across the garter on her thigh, the thicker band at the top, feel the clip of her suspenders, soft skin, the lace of her french knickers.

Up over her bum, up to the waistband of her knickers, pull them back and down, ease them down her legs and over her shoes; they join her friend’s in my pocket.

Stroke back up the backs of her legs, tiny goosebumps; thumbs feel her heat, up onto her rounded buttocks, squeeze them, tease them apart, kiss from one cheek to the other, a soft nip with my teeth, licking across to her perineum, suck around it then tongue down to her pussy, her juices taste sweet, suck her outer lips into my mouth, gently nibbling them, down as far as I can, can’t quite reach her clit, back up the other side; lick down the length of her pussy, nibble her inner lips, taste them, lick them, suck them.

My left fingers slip up, tips stroke up and down across her anus, feel the puckered circle of flesh, strum across it, massage it. Intermittently thrust my tongue into her pussy; right fingers join my tongue, pleasure her. Her bum starts to squirm. My tongue pushes into her, as far it will go, the folds of her pussy, lapping her, fucking her. Fingertips explore, reach that secret place, trace around the delicate vee, flick across the top, tease the hood of flesh back; her tiny clit pops out, a shiver seems to dance right through her, radiates out from my fingers, through her bum, down her legs and up her back.

Delicate touches across the hard little nub, my thumb sinks into her, a hiss of breath through her teeth; thumb rubs across the hard ridges along the base of her tunnel, index finger teasing her clit.

I lick up the lips of her pussy, sucking and nibbling; across her perineum, trace around her anus; the skin is puckered, tiny ridges radiate out, my tongue swirls around in a decreasing spiral until it finds the centre, that tight circle of muscle, I tease against it, flick across, push, follow one of those tiny ridges from its outer edge until it disappears into her body, follow another one as it appears; each time I touch that puckered core I push against it, harder each time.

I build a rhythm with her, thumb slides into her as my tongue pushes against her, finger swirls over and around her clit, her hips and bum still squirming against me as multiple sensations threatening her equilibrium, her panting rasping breath begins to shorten; then, one more hard push and my tongue bursa elit escort breaks passed the last resistance and she spreads herself for me. I explore her hidden depths, my sensitive tongue reaching further and further as she succumbs to the pleasure of it.

I thrust into her, fucking her with my tongue and thumb, finger rubbing backwards and forwards across her clit, her body vibrating; holding her breath for long seconds at a time then a quick gasp for air.

Pussy swelling around my thumb, my tongue is beginning to ache when suddenly she grabs a last gasp of air, a groan escapes from deep within her and the muscles in her bum and legs begin to clench, my tongue is forced out of her, her thighs squeeze my hand; and she cums, spasms, juices flood out soaking my hand.

For a second I feel her muscles begin to relax then she spasms again, her thighs squeeze even tighter together, one rubs against the other forcing my thumb deeper and my hand hard against her body.

She becomes absorbed in taking everything she can from her orgasm: muscles clamped tight, thighs squeezed together.

I stand, unfasten my belt and trousers and let them drop, then ease my jockey shorts over my engorged cock and push them down, feel the warm night air on my skin.

As her orgasm begins to subside and her muscles unclench I massage my cock with my cum soaked hand, take hold of it and rub it against the silky skin of her bum, push it between the suspender strap and her cheek, then up between her buttocks, press against her, the base of my cock against her rimmed arse, my balls against her hot, wet pussy.

As she starts to recover her senses she pushes back against me, tries to squeeze my cock between her buttocks, she reaches round with her hand and rubs her palm across my cock-head then presses down against it, a sure indication of what she wants.

I pull back slightly, again take hold of my cock and rub it up and down her slit, gently back and forth across her clit; a small moan from her. I tease up until I bump against the base of her perineum then a little push forward into that gorgeous place.

Pull back, forward, pushing a little further, building a slow rhythm pushing a little further in each time, as I pause before pulling back she squeezes the walls of her pussy, gripping me, I keep moving until I’m as far in as I can go, hips up against her bum, just feel her cervix, squeeze against her, stop moving.

I close my eyes and take in the sensations: my cock buried deep within her, the hot, soft, liquid grip of her pussy, the hard pressure of her cervix, the feel of her skin against mine, the suspender straps against my hips, the whisper light feel of her stockings against my bare legs.

I stroke my hands up her thighs, over her bum, feel the changes in texture: silk stockings, warm skin, lace suspenders, satin dress.

We’re both shaking, both very close to losing control; I’m breathing deep as I try to maintain that control. Grind against her, pull back, push forward, still trying to keep my control; short thrusts, just the head in or all the way in; then long and slow or long and fast, grind up against her.

Long ago her heavy panting had become a crying moan, her shivering a hard push back against my thrust. I can feel her pussy beginning to swell, to squeeze around my invading shaft.

My hands grip her hips, can feel the sweat running down my back, my controlled rhythm becomes a hard pounding smack against her bum, her bum rippling each time I smack into her.

I’m fast approaching the point of no return, can feel the telltale tingling behind my balls, the sensations about to overtake me, my rhythm going, the cum building.

Then, beneath me, she trips over the edge, cums! A hard shuddering orgasm; she pulls her arms in and tries to curl into a ball, gives a long drawn out cry, her pussy contracts one last time.

And that’s it for me. One last deep thrust, a throaty groan of my own, and a burning stream of cum shoots into her, the thick liquid pulsing down my cock; I’m breathing hard, sweat dripping off my forehead, try another thrust but my thighs are shaking too much, I can only stand, pushing hard against her, fingers locked grasping her hips.

After minutes of being locked together, after repeated electric aftershocks flicker through us both she starts to uncurl, my wilting, spent cock slips from her body, she spreads her arms out wide and purrs like a cat, I slump back and drop onto the chair. The warm air once again caresses my cock and begins to dry the juices that coat both it and my balls.

The smell of sex is heavy in the air as she pushes herself upright, her dress falls back into place as she turns to face me and leans back against the table.

It is almost impossible to see her face in the now full dark.

With a real shake in her voice, “Now that was definitely more.”

I stand and, still with my trousers around my ankles, kiss her on the mouth, she kisses me back, reaches round and squeezes my arse cheeks. Rests her forehead on my shoulder.

“Hmmmm, I think I should probably get back.”

“Yes, somebody will have missed you by now. Shouldn’t you clean up first though, they’ll be able to smell us.”

She laughs, “And won’t they be jealous.”

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