“WAKE UP HONEY, we’re here.” Her mother.
“Of course we’re here. Were the hell else would we be? But just where is here?”
“Boston, sweetie, we’re in Boston. The wedding? Remember?”
“Wedding! Oh, Chrissie’s wedding.” Ann looked at her watch. “Nine thirty? We’re here at fucking nine thirty?”
“Not much traffic,” Evan said.
“When is the brunch?”
“Eleven.”
“Jesus. I wonder when check in time is. They probably don’t have our rooms ready.”
They left their luggage, such as it was, in the car and went into the lobby. The bathrooms were right there, right at the entrance, thank God, because Ann could barely walk her bladder was so full. How long had they been in the car? Four hours? And no stops? Her mother was crazy. Evan was crazy. Any normal person would have made at least one pit stop. Maybe two. Or had they, and just left her sleeping in the car? Maybe that was it, because the two of them seemed fine, strolling up to the reservations desk as she broke off in a desperate attempt to keep from peeing all over the polished marble tile. Panties? Was she wearing panties? She could look down at her reflection and see quite clearly she was not. She had some vague memory that her mother had scarfed them all up out of the dryer and packed them away before she’d had a chance to put a pair on. Or maybe because she’d been too chafed? It just made it more urgent to get through the door. She could feel herself losing control. A dribble on the floor by the sinks. Into the stall. Another dribble. Onto the safety of the pot. And nothing would come out. What was this? She’d frozen things up. Relax, relax, it’s okay now. But it took five minutes for her bladder to relent. Even then there wasn’t nearly enough to justify all the distress. Too much booze, she thought. But then she started to wonder if there would be mimosas at the brunch.
There was no one around, thank God. She wiped up the telltale puddle in the stall with some toilet paper, the one out by the sink with a paper towel. There, no one would ever be the wiser. One thing about no panties, no bra for that matter, she could give herself a little sponge bath, freshen up, gargle at the water fountain out in the hall. There, she felt almost human.
Which was just as well, because when she came back out into the lobby Chrissie was there to greet her. There was no sign of Evan or her mother. After the obligatory hugs and kisses, Ann got a chance to ask what had happened to them.
“Oh, they went up to the room. Here, they left me your key.” She handed it over and Ann stuck it in her purse. “I’m so glad you made it up in time for the practice.”
“Practice?”
“We just decided last night that we wanted to do the practice before we got our hair done. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“What are we practicing? Some sort of dance?”
“Ladies, ladies, we are ready to go.” That from a thin man with a skinny goatee. Artsy type. Or at least pretending to be. “You must be the cousin?” He was giving Ann a cold, appraising stare.
“Ann, this is Josh Owen.”
The name seemed familiar.
“Hello my dear.” He seemed singularly unaffected by her beauty. Okay, maybe she wasn’t quite as pretty as Katie, but then again who was? She was not used to having a man look her over that way. Gay, he must be gay. Wasn’t Chrissie complaining all the time about how all the cute male dancers were gay? Except hopefully for the one she was about to marry. Which made her start wondering about the story Evan had told her mother, about the priest or maybe priests.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” She had missed something.
“I was asking about your dance background.”
“I was a cheerleader.” That produced something close to a sneer. “I did take dance lessons all the way through college. And I’m an expert at pole dancing.” She threw that in just to taunt him, get a rise out of him. The closest she had ever come was in the Bayou, but then hadn’t she done some pole riding?
“Well, later at the reception perhaps you can show off your talents.”
Shit. She was in for it now. Should have kept her mouth shut.
“Most of the other bridesmaids are professional ballerinas,” he continued. “What is it you do for a living, my dear?”
“Ann is a high priced consultant.” Chrissie broke in. Just to reinforce that Ann fished one of her business cards out of her purse.
“Ah very impressive. And just what is it you are doing?”
“We’re building the first large scale commercial strength object oriented application. Actually my group is trying to rescue that project, to get it to work.” Josh seemed totally unimpressed. “Really, what we are doing is as much of a breakthrough as Rite of Spring.”
“Really. So you are a revolutionary genius?”
“No, more the sorcerer’s apprentice.”
And fuck toy. That’s what he was thinking, she could see it in his eyes. The little ornamental blond airhead along for the ride. Along to be ridden. God, she had been so careful for all this time to stay away from that. And now what could she say? Everything he might be thinking was true.
“Ann and the wizard – what’s his name?”
“Brad.”
“Ann and Brad have a strictly professional relationship, right Ann?”
“Not after this week.” Better to get it out in the open even if it was in front of this lizard. Not that he would give a shit one way or the other.
“Oh my God. He seduced you?”
“Other way around. We can talk about it later.”
“Later I am going to be getting married. Doing the wedding, doing the reception, doing the honeymoon …”
“Okay, okay I’ll give you the short version. This week we went to Austin. It was the first time I’d gone there with him. It was always Atlanta – well one time in our previous gig we went over to Germany for a user meeting. The thing about Austin, Brad has this nature boy thing going. I never realized quite how severe it was, but where we work it’s in the middle of the woods and he likes to run naked through the woods and go up and swim in this deserted lake. And of course nothing like that in Atlanta, it’s all very built up and suburban, almost urban. Office parks and shopping malls. But Austin has this lake with a big nude swimming area. So of course he’s off to go swimming every afternoon. Which I had no clue about, seriously. So the first afternoon out there he wants to dump me back at the hotel or at some shopping mall and go off his swim. And I said screw that, I’m coming along.”
“To a nude beach?”
“Well Evan and I go to Sandy Hook a lot.”
“Different though with your boss.”
“He’s technically not my boss any more. But yeah, anyway that was the start of it. I did a lot of stupid things this week.”
“Really ladies, the sordid details of your love life are quite fascinating, but the rest of the girls are waiting to practice.”
Ann whispered in Chrissie’s ear. “You sure you want to do it in that outfit? Look, you want to run upstairs and get some panties?”
“Ladies, ladies.” Josh was clapping his hands. “Let us proceed.”
Which meant going outside, into the garden area. Where it was already unbearably hot. Ann was drenched in sweat after walking a few feet over to the other girls. No, she was not regretting the lack of a bra or panties. She was wishing she could ditch the two things she did have on. Most of the other girls were dressed to dance, in skimpy little leotards. Was that what she was supposed to wear under the bridesmaid dress? Too late now.
“Thirsty?” One of the girls handed her a glass of orange juice. Too late, she realized it was actually a mimosa. Oh well, hair of the dog that bit you. Wasn’t that what her father had said? He’d had a drinking problem? It was the first her mother had ever talked about it. At least in her hearing. She’d always thought they were the perfect loving couple.
“Want another? I’m Amy by the way. Carla, Debbie, Ginger, Karina, Lisa, and Zoe.” She waved at the other bridesmaids. Ginger was Chrissie’s younger sister, just going into college. Cute chubby little Ginger, she was tall and rangy looking now, dressed in spandex shorts and a sports bra. Not as heavily built as the soccer player they had met at the lake, but she had that jock look to her. That side of the family was Catholic. Their mother had kept both the girls on a very short leash, sent them to a very strict Catholic girls’ school. But one time at the family summer place Ann had given Chrissie a little hands on, mouths on for that matter, introduction to the birds and bees.
The other girls all looked liked dancers.
“Ann. I won’t be able to keep my balance if I have another one of these.”
“Oh, don’t worry, we’re way ahead of you.” Amy waved at a tray full of empty glasses. “Josh promised he was going to keep it really, really simple. Easy to remember.”
“Aunt Ann!” Ginger came running over to give her a kiss. A disquieting kiss. Ann was thinking way too much about that soccer player, how Ginger would be the same age. A virgin? Most likely.
“You’ve grown.” Taller than her sister, she was almost the same height as Ann, looking at her eye to eye. Blue eyes, like Ann, but with little flecks of brown. Skin not quite clear yet.
“Yep, I’m a big girl now.” Ginger grabbed one of the drinks. “These are sooo good.”
“Ladies, ladies.” A clap of the hands from the maestro. “Now this is a very simple dance. The chairs will be arranged where the grass is. Two side aisles and the broader center one. The ceremony will be taking place at the end away from the building. That is where the groom will be standing, waiting for the arrival of his bride. Now at that point the music will change, you will come in very languidly, arms over your heads, down each side, bearing the runners over your head. You will come across the front, then up the center aisle, and deposit the runners for the bride and her father to trod upon. Shall we practice that first? First, let’s arrange you down the side aisles for spacing. Four on each side. Yes, Ann, go over there. Now let’s stretch out the runners. Good. Now pick them up.
“It’s heavy.”
“My dears, each of you is capable of lifting one the others. Surely you can get some carpet over your heads. In any case, you don’t need to do that now. I just want you to get a sense for spacing. Okay, now let’s lift up the runner.”
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
“How about we have the runner up in the front? We run down the side aisles, come across the front, and then each grab some of the runner and spread it that way.” That was from Lisa.
“Skip instead. Ann and Ginger, do you know how to do a nice ballet skip? With the high knees? Yes, very nice indeed.” That drew some titters. The last time Ann had done a little skip like that without a sports bra she’d had no boobs to speak of. Now they were bouncing out of control. Her right nipple had escaped the halter top and her skirt had hiked up her butt and stuck there. She tugged it back down, with some difficulty. It was glued to her skin with all the sweat. Well, it wasn’t just her. Those flimsy leotards were turning transparent, sticking to every contour. Nipples showing through, pussies showing through on some. They might as well have been naked. Even Ginger’s shorts were betraying her, revealing the topography of the flesh beneath.
“We need a break,” one of the girls announced as another tray of drinks arrived. “Should have packed another leotard. What are you wearing under the dress, Ann?”
“I was thinking nothing,” Ann shrugged. She wasn’t so sure now with all the dance moves.
“Now there’s a thought.” There was a giggling, whispered conversation among the ballerinas.
“Okay ladies, time is running short. We will trust that you are capable of spreading the runner. Now for the second part. You will arrive at the back and pick up your baskets. Then you will skip down the side aisles, three skips at a time.” He demonstrated. “You will pause, and do a graceful arabesque. Then three more skips and of course the next group will follow. Then a third time. By the fourth the front pair should have arrived at the front aisle. This time when you do the arabesque you will distribute half of the petals in your basket. Now can we practice that? Skip, skip, skip, turn to the inside, do the arabesque. Now group two join them. Skip, skip, skip, turn, Ann can you get your leg up more?” That sent the skirt sliding up her butt again but oh well. Two more rounds, and it was time to pretend to spread the petals.
“Okay ladies, now you will skip two skips across the center aisle, do an arabesque facing away from the groom.”
“No more arabesques.” That was from Amy. “If we do them in the center aisle we’ll be flashing too much crotch.”
“Yeah,” one of the other girls said. Debbie? “One thing to do it on stage. Another to do it right in the middle of the audience.”
“Very well. You will raise your arms and do a graceful full turn. Then three skips up the center aisle and when the first group is at the back you will distribute the rest of your petals. Simple?”
“Time for another break.” Chrissie had arrived with another tray of drinks. They picked them up and retreated inside to the air conditioning. It looked as if dance practice was over. Ann was so sweat soaked she was shivering in the blast of cold air. The ballerinas had their leotards plastered to their skin. Some were obviously wearing something underneath. Others, just as obviously, not. It was barely ten in the morning. The sun was on the other side of the building. What was it going to be like in the afternoon, with the sun starting to set? Directly down the center aisle, that was the plan, to have the wedding as near to midsummer as possible to get the Stonehenge effect.
They went into the spa, where another tray of drinks was waiting for them. Thirsty, she was so thirsty. Ann just guzzled down the cool sweet fluid without any concern for what it was doing to her. The other bridesmaids were getting equally smashed. Off with their sweaty clothes then, into the shower and the spa pool in a giggling mass of naked flesh, some of the girls making out. Except for Ginger, who stayed in the corner, watching the others with a mix of horror and fascination. Then into fluffy short white robes, all of them naked still underneath, barefoot, bare breasted and bare assed, not worrying much about keeping the robes closed, sitting around waiting for the ministrations of the spa staff, arranging hair, trimming and painting nails, plucking out nose hairs and facial hair, shaving armpits, and legs. And pussies. Chrissie came in. “I was talking to Josh. He’s very upset about the arabesques.”
“It’s too hot to wear much of anything under the dresses,” one of the girls said. “Even if we did, it would just turn transparent.”
“I don’t want any underwear showing,” Chrissie said. “It will totally spoil the effect of the dresses.”
“Isn’t this like, your family showing up? Aunts and uncles, cousins?” That was Carla. “This is like a family event? I mean, I’ve danced in the altogether, up on a stage, away from the audience, but you could control what you were showing because they were all the one direction. Except for the other dancers and the stagehands, but whatever.”
“Look,” Chrissie said, “this is my wedding. I want to do it my way.”
“I’ll drink to that,” Lisa said. Another tray of drinks had arrived. Along with Josh, who had casually invaded the ‘girls only’ sanctuary of the spa. No one except Ginger bothered to cover up as he looked them over with a mixture of concern and disdain.
“Ladies, I have had an inspiration. For the inner aisle arabesques. I need two of you, approximately the same height to demonstrate. Lisa and Carla. Without the robes, please. Now Carla, turn away from the other ladies and do an arabesque.”
“Way too much pussy showing,” Amy said.
“Well of course. Now Carla, put your leg back down, and Lisa come stand behind her and facing away from her, left cheek to left cheek, and now both of you do the arabesques. Now ladies, what do you see?”
“Not much.”
“Exactly. With the dresses on, not much at all. So that is what we will do. Pair off with someone of the same height, and make sure you are in proper position as you come up the aisle.”
Ann was taller than any of the ballerinas. So was Ginger. Josh spotted the two of them paired up. “Okay, you two, we will put you in the last position on either side. That way it will be easy for you to follow what the others are doing. Are you comfortable doing the arabesques?” A shake of the head from both. “Very well we will practice. Without the robes.”
That drew a sigh from Ginger.
“Is there a problem?”
“I’m not used to being naked like this. And she’s always been like, my Aunt Ann.”
“Very well. Leave the robes on then. Now stand back to back. Ladies, I need your butts actually touching.
“Oh my God this is so embarrassing.” Ginger jumped as their butts touched. “No one has ever touched me there.”
“Come on Sis, be a sport.” That was from Chrissie. “You’re a big girl now. Have another mimosa.”
Ginger downed it in one gulp. She looked dizzy.
“Let’s try it again,” Ann said. They touched butt to butt, then leaned forward, pulling their legs back. Ginger started to lose her balance and Ann grabbed her extended leg to keep her from toppling over. It was a very intimate position. She could feel the heat of Ginger’s pussy, even though they were not quite touching.
“Oh no!” Ginger was trembling. “Oh! No!” She broke away and ran back toward the toilet stalls. Ann and Chrissie went back to find her sitting on a toilet, stall door open, sobbing.
“What’s the matter, Sis?” That was from Chrissie.
“I came! Right in front of everybody! From my aunt!”
“Cousin,” Ann corrected.
“You were always an aunt. So much older. Oh my God, isn’t that like incest?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
“Those girls who were kissing in the pool? What was that all about?”
“Some girls like other girls.”
“You mean like to have sex with?”
“Yes.”
“Do you, like, like other girls?”
“I do,” Ann said. She pulled Ginger to her feet and kissed her. “Did you like that?”
“Sort of.”
“What about this?” The kisses moved down to find nipples. No answer, and the kisses descended. Ginger was tongue tied, paralyzed, as the kisses descended down her belly, past the area that had been shaved so carefully, to delicately find the little nub just as her lips began to part. She was starting to come even as the tongue grew closer, heaving violently at its first light touch.
“I think you need to get out more.” That was Chrissie’s dry comment at her little sister’s antics. It didn’t help that some of the other girls had wandered back to see what all the commotion was.
“Could we be alone?” Ginger said. Ann closed the stall door. “Girls do that to each other?”
“Some girls do.”
“Could I do it to you? Would you mind? I know it’s sort of weird, you being my aunt and all.”
“Cousin.” Ann pushed Ginger back down on the toilet seat, moved in close so that they were touching. Ginger gave a kiss then a lick. “Go further back. If you want to.”
“Am I doing something wrong?”
“Why?”
“You’re not coming.”
“It’s okay. You can put your tongue anywhere you want to. I won’t mind.”
“I don’t know what to do.”
“Come.” There was, for some reason, a couch out next to the sinks. There were couches like that in the ladies rooms in Atlanta and the explanation had been that they were there in case a lady felt faint and needed to rest. Probably not for the purpose Ann had in mind. “Lie on your side.” Ann lay down also, in sixty nine position. “Now, do what I’m doing.”
She started where she had left off, at the very top, running her tongue around the little nub. Ginger did the same, but not as delicately. She had a big, strong tongue, rough like a rasp, more like a guy’s tongue. Strong hands, too, gripping Ann’s thighs.
“Take it easy. Later on you’ll want to use your tongue like that, but not right now. That’s better. Now go down some, no, not that far. Where you pee.” Ann put her tongue there, licking a little, teasing it wider open. Ginger did the same, but more aggressively. Somehow she could get her tongue into a little point, and actually force it into the tiny opening. It was enough to make Ann come explosively, for a long time, with that tongue working its way further and further in.
“Was that good?” Ginger asked.
“I’ll tell you the next time I try to pee. Okay, now go further back. Slide your tongue right down the middle. Feel it open up? Now you can use that tongue as hard as you like. Fuck me with it.”
But when Ann tried to demonstrate on Ginger, there was a problem. “You’re a virgin?”
No answer, but the evidence was there.
“Okay, now we’re going further back.”
“We are?”
Ann didn’t answer. She just let her tongue slide back more. The way they were lying, with the bright lights in the rest room, she had a really good view of what she was doing. She’d been staring at Ginger’s asshole the whole time, as of course the girl must have been at hers. But maybe with not the same interest. Now it was time to touch and taste, to feel the little puckered ridges, the tight muscle resisting the intrusion of her tongue. To taste a hint of what lay within.
“I don’t think I can do that.” But Ginger did not pull away as Ann began to probe. Ann’s tongue slipped in, just a little, and Ginger started to come again. Somewhere in the middle of that, Ginger started licking Ann, then forcing that mighty tongue into her bowels.
“We’re going out to the brunch now.” Chrissie had come in to find the two of them like that. She was holding some longer robes and slippers.
“I think we need to rinse off first.” Ann broke away and headed to the showers. Ginger was having a long conversation with her sister.
Ann came into the dining area to find the rest of the bridesmaids scattered with their significant others. And her mother, sitting alone.
“What happened to you? Everyone else came out a while ago.”
“Oh, I was having a talk with Ginger. Things she should know before she goes to college. I think her sister is talking a little bit more. What happened to Evan?”
“Oh, he went out to play some golf. He decided he had time to get a round in.”
“In this heat? Who would be crazy enough to play golf on a day like this?”
“Oh, he met one of the guests, from the groom’s side, who’s from Texas. He said it would be a cold day where he comes from.”
“From Texas? Was he black?”
“Why yes, he was. Why?”
“Nothing.” Sam, it couldn’t be Sam. That would be too much. Evan and Sam, out on the golf course, comparing notes. Hole by hole, so to speak. What would it be like to do the two of them at once?
“Are you okay?” Her mother broke into her reverie.
“I’m fine.” Ann flagged down the mimosa tray as it went by. “Just fine.”
“Maybe you should try to eat something.”
“Maybe.” Ann wandered over to the buffet. The usual. No different from the breakfast at the hotel in Austin. Okay, some fruit and a Danish. Brad would get the ham and cheese omelet, sausage, maybe some bacon, two or three Danish or maybe the chocolate muffins if they had some. Every morning. And never gain weight. Or at least not show it. She wondered absentmindedly what he had for breakfast at home.