The Wedding Ch. 01

This is a work of fiction. None of the characters are underage or any age. You don't know them, no matter how much you think you do, because they are not real people. I made them up.

What I am really looking for here is feedback. I want to know if it entertained. If it did not, I would like to know why. Was it incongrueties? Was it unrealistic size? Was it that girls would never say that? I just want to know if something popped you out of the story. I'm trying to become a better writer and this kind of feedback is helpful. And please VOTE!

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I don't know what it is about weddings, but they put me in a bad mood. The most likely explanation is my three failed marriages, but I swear, they were not my fault. So, when my son announced his wedding date and that I was to participate in the wedding, I was inwardly displeased. I had hoped that they would decide to elope and make it official without a lot of pomp and circumstance.

Over the next several month, there were many planning sessions and activities that would lead up to the wedding itself. Luckily, I would be spared much of this because I was only the father of the groom. I did plan the rehearsal dinner at a little mom and pop steakhouse in town that my son and I really liked. I marked down the date for the bachelor party as well and went shopping for one of those cup feed coffee machines.

My tux was woefully out of date. The last time I'd worn it was in the 1980s, almost four decades ago. Today, colors were muted or dark to begin with. If you went with lighter colors, you went with light browns or grays. So, my powder blue tuxedo with the frilly shirt was out, which made my first chore finding an outfit. Women will probably laugh at this because their first thought is that an event equals a new dress or two or three. I don't like buying clothes, especially dress clothes. It is not that I am fat, I actually have one of those skinny body types, or out of shape, I work out most every day. It is because nothing ever fits quite right. My ass is too small and the pants are baggy. My legs are too muscular and the thighs are tight. I am too tall and the jacket has to be taken in too far to fit my frame. Or my favorite, my neck is not proportional to the size of shirt I have to wear to fit my chest. To me, this meant that renting a tux was not an option.

At the third place I went looking, I finally felt comfortable with the store and the selection. I picked out a suit, rather than a tux, that was a tan, just a shade or two browner than khaki. I planned to skip the coat and concentrated on the pants, shirt and vest, though I did buy the coat as well. On my first visit, I was helped by a young man who was actually the franchise owner. He helped me pick out colors and explained all about the service. Before I laid my money down, I wanted to shop more and see where my son was doing his shopping. As expected, he hadn't even thought about it yet. So, we made an appointment and went down there the following week together. In the meantime, I did more shopping but found nothing I liked better, nor did I find staff that was as knowledgeable or friendly. So, I knew, that was the store I would use.

The second time we came in was a Thursday, late afternoon. The young man, Jamaal, was busy helping a wedding party that was picking up their suits. Even though we had an appointment, I told him to finish up with them. About fifteen minutes before they were scheduled to close, the wedding party was out the door. The two service staff looked relieved for a minute then saw us waiting. That was the first time I really noticed Chelsie. She was short, around 5'2", with a shapely body, not too thin, not fat, and a very pretty face framed by her light brown hair and set off with pretty blue eyes.

Jamaal took my son off to get ideas and I was paired up with Chelsie. I shook her hand when she offered it. She had a good grip and her skin was smooth and soft. I went over what Jamaal and I had spoken about before and she went to a file box and pulled out a cardstock order sheet with my name on it.

"You already have me on an order sheet?" I said.

"Oh, Jamaal is like that. He doesn't like to forget, so he asks names, remembers details like color, and then writes it all down after the potential customer leaves," she said with a smile. "So, are you ready for me to measure you?"

"Absolutely," I said.

She took my measurements without any shyness at all, even though, well, I had been alone for a while now and the proximity of an attractive woman, even at my 44, was enough to show my colors, so to speak. She crossed through the style of pants and changed it to another number.

"Um, not trying to tell you your business, but we agreed upon a certain pant and you are changing it," I said, "Is there a reason for that?"

"Yes," she said, "I know this is for a wedding," and she pointed out the W written in the corner, "And you got a little... uh, excited... with just plain ole me taking your measurements. At the reception, you may end up dancing. I thought you might like to not show as much if the same happened at the wedding or reception. These new pants have some room in them and, with a tight pair of underwear, your... uh... manliness will be mostly hidden unless you press up against someone."

As she talked, she blushed a bit and my manliness got a bit bigger. She was cute and had just the right amount of innocence, at least in my opinion. I flirted while my son was still talking with Jamaal and touched her arm and shoulder a few times. She seemed responsive and her hand seemed to find its way to my forearm frequently.

"So, I will see you in about ten days," she said as the others finished up their conversation. She opened the door for us, she'd locked it at closing time, and I lightly squeezed her upper arm before walking past.

"I look forward to it," I replied.

I got the call on day eight. My initial fitting would be ready in two days. We found that they didn't have an open appointment that fit with my schedule until three days later since I needed a late afternoon.

I got to the store about five minutes late, someone at work just had to have my opinion on something and it would 'only take a minute' which turned into fifteen. This soured my mood, because, generally, I sour easily. But as I walked into the tux shop, I saw that Chelsie was the only one there.

"I hope you don't mind that it is just me today," she said, "Jamaal went to our sister store to help them with a rush order. He is the bomb of a tailor." She smiled warmly as she said it and I found my sour mood dissipating.

"How could I be upset that it is 'just' you?" I said, "I was actually hoping you would help me today.

She smiled a bit broader and looked at the clock, "I am going to just lock the door now. It is only ten minutes until close and I don't want to be interrupted."

Today, she was again wearing a dress, though this one had a halter top. It was loose below the waist and reached to her knees. She wore flats beneath it and a bit more makeup than the last time I saw her. I thought at the time that she must have a date.

She came out with a hangar full of suit. She took me down the little hall to a changing room and hung the suit. "I'll be right here if you need any help. Let's start with the shirt and the pants, okay?"

"Sure," I replied.

I closed the door and slipped off my jeans then pulled on the unhemmed pants. I donned the shirt and buttoned then tucked it in and found a tab and button in the pants that I had never seen before. "What is this extra button?" I said through the door.

"That's something Jamaal came up with. It is actually getting a lot of attention in the fashion world as an innovation in men's suits. Here let me help." she opened the door and I was standing there with my pants open and my red underwear showing.

She moved my hands out of the way and I rested one on her shoulder while the other floundered before I moved it to my hip. I found myself showing more than I had bargained for as she hooked the flap, then the standard inner button, the top button and zipped the fly. Then she began to blouse the shirt and adjust the pants. She squatted down and cuffed the pants then marked them with blue chalk.

"The shirt won't work," she said, "I'd hoped, but the chest is pulling and it will show even through the vest. You can take it off and put your work shirt back on. We'll work with that one."

I removed the shirt leaving only my tank undershirt, grey and form fitting. I donned my work shirt, another button up, but short sleeved and she held the vest for me to put on. She turned to me and buttoned the vest as I looked in the mirror. I could see that it was going to look real good in the end, even though it was unfinished now.

She stepped back to the doorway and had me walk out. She smoothed the vest and the pants, her motions close enough to ensure that I didn't lose any excitement. Then she unbuttoned the pants and adjusted the tucked in portion of my shirt, accidentally rubbing against my member and causing me to groan. My hand went to her shoulder and she looked up at me then said, "Sorry, but it is so big, I find it hard to work around."

As I looked down at her, I got the feeling that she wasn't sorry at all. I suddenly felt that more would be needed. "I think the pants fit and you have the measures, should we hang them back up?" I asked.

She unbuttoned the inside buttons, her wrist rubbing me and pushed them off my hips. As I stepped out of them. I held her shoulder and stepped forward until my member touched her face. It was her turn to moan and she said, "Please don't tease me any more."

I put my hands under her arms and pulled her to her feet then took two steps back pulling her along to the nearby chair and sat down. My hands pulled forward and cupped her breasts from outside the material of her dress until I hooked the halter top in the center and pulled the cloth out until her breasts were freed. She moaned as I took one breast in my mouth and tongued her nipple. My hands slipped downward and up under her dress. My excitement was in overdrive and I didn't even know where I was, just that this woman in front of me was going to be mine, very, very quickly.

I released her breast and kissed her again as my hands began to drag her panties down. She unzipped her dress, slipped the halter over her head and stepped out of the dress. I held her back a moment and took in her body. She was curvy in all the right ways, C cup breasts, large on her frame, narrower waist that thickened out to lovely hips and legs that were shapely and not sticks. Her bush was non-existent and I slipped off my underpants before pulling her closer and separating her legs with my knees. I touched her and found her ready, so I kissed her again and pulled her in to straddle my turgid manhood. Our lips locked and my hands on her waist, she lowered slowly onto me. When she was on her tiptoes barely holding herself up, I was almost halfway inside her. I pushed down and her toes lifted as her thighs pushed them up and she groaned as she sank to the hilt.

My tongue was playing tag with hers when I stood and pressed her against the wall. I put my arms under her legs and spread them as wide as was comfortable for her and began to drill her.

"Mmm, baby girl, you feel like heaven," I said. "You are warm and wet and oh so tight."

"Grr, uhn, oh. Damn that is a nice one." she replied, "I feel more full than I have ever felt."

I shortly became incapable of talking and we were kissing once again until she started a high pitch shrieking moan in my mouth when she began to orgasm. He body shook and quivered and the pressure inside her became greater and I joined her with hard thrusts of my hips as the pleasure washed over us both.

I stood braced against her, my arms still locking her in place, still connected together, kissing one another. Every movement causing a twitch of pleasure that was almost too much to bear.

"It has been too long since I was with a woman," I said, "I hope I didn't disappoint or hurt you."

"No, baby. If anything, you were almost too careful," she replied, "But maybe we can try again, and maybe it could be in a bed or on a couch or hell, the back seat of a car."

I kissed her again and flexed myself inside her, "If you are willing, I would love to take you out to dinner tomorrow night. There is a Sharky's I've been wanting to try just outside of town."

"That sounds great," she said, "I don't know what a Sharky's is, but dinner and return to my place sounds like a winner of a plan."

I carefully set her down on the chair and cleaned up the juices leaking from her then let her clean me and we got dressed. I kept her panties though and let her keep mine.

"Don't you need more measurements?" I asked.

"No, I finished that almost ten minutes before I had to make a move to get you going," she said.

"I'm a little dense. I thought we were still prepping the suit." I said and she melted into my embrace. I leaned way down and kissed her, squeezing a tit as I did. "Now, I have to get going. The best man wants to meet with me and talk about the toast and bachelor party."

"Don't you have like two months?" she asked.

"Yes, but he has questions."

She laughed and patted my ass as she walked me to the door, "We need to get you some better pants. Those ones make your ass look flat. And you have a great ass." which earned her another sloppy kiss. She slipped me a card with her address and number on it. "I'll see you tomorrow, how about seven o'clock?"

"Seven it is," I said and went out the door. Okay, I said I hate weddings, and I do. But girls act different when you wear a suit and at a wedding. They get more... interested.

===========================

The next two months were interesting. No one knew what they were doing and I ended up hiring a helper to assist with wedding planning and the execution two weeks later. It was a godsend. She discovered many things that were missed and several of them would have been borderline disasters had they not been done. I spent much of my spare time with Chelsie, mostly in bed, screwing like rabbits. She was in school three nights a week to become a tailor herself and most weekends, she spent on projects. We had fun with each other and talked about it numerous times. Neither of us was especially emotionally attached. We had great sex and enjoyed each other's company, but that was all that was there.

I was fine with that, especially after I hired Joy. Joy was a wedding planner and was hot as all get out. She was 5'7" tall with long dark brown hair and a figure that was to die for. She had a tendency to wear either skirts that showed her shapely legs and butt, or stretch pants that bordered on indecent. My son's wife to be, found her indispensable and she took on even more responsibility. With it though, came a bigger bill. Though it was more than I hoped, it was not more than I could afford. So, I agreed to it and my son agreed to repay me the difference once the wedding expenses were paid off.

Now, of course, every decision that had a potential cost impact had to get my approval. This was further into the process than I wanted to go, so I invited Joy over to the house for a business dinner and discussion. She asked if I minded if she came direct from yoga and I said no and that I could let her use the shower if she wanted.

Joy arrived just two or three minutes early. She was a touch sweaty and wearing white yoga pants, which showed off her white thong, and a pink stretch top with her midriff bare. Luckily, Chelsie's influence had me in a pair of slacks that didn't make my obvious pleasure at the sight of her sexy body, well, obvious. I showed her the shower and handed her a couple towels then went back down to check on dinner. The potatoes were nearly done, a nice scalloped potato with a touch of spices, and I put on the steamer with the broccoli cauliflower mix I liked, then put the pork chops in the oven to broil. The table was set so I added the salad bowl and dressing to the table and set the timers then sat down to wait.

Joy came down a bit later, I'd heard her blow drying her hair. She was wearing a thigh length skirt, loose and pleated, a pretty pink and blue print blouse and a pair of heels below bare legs. She dropped her bag by the end of the couch and sat down.

"I found your blow dryer and used it, I hope you don't mind," she said.

"Not at all, since I started wearing my hair shorter, I quit using it."

"It's a nice one too," she said with a smile, "So, what's for dinner?"

I stood and offered my hand, "Well, the salad is ready now. Then I have scalloped potatoes, pork chops, broccoli and cauliflower and some chilled apple sauce."

"Oh my, a culinary delight too." she said as she took my hand and stood.

I held her seat and asked, "I have a little white wine, nothing special, if you want some. I also have beer, diet soda, milk or water."

"I will take you up on the wine, thanks." she said and I moved to the kitchen.

"Feel free to start, I'll only be a minute." I said and she poured a tiny bit of dressing on her salad and crunched a bite.

"I always get so hungry after yoga," she said, "must be all the energy I am using."

The stove dinged and I removed the dishes from the heat. The chops had to sit for a few minutes, so I put potatoes and broccoli in serving dishes, covered them and brought the wine to the table. I had milk. I sat down and began to eat my salad as well.

"So, what did you want to talk about, Alex," she asked.

"Let's hold off and enjoy dinner first," I said, "then we can get to the boring stuff. By the way, you look absolutely stunning."

"Oh stop it," she said, "I barely spent any time on my hair, no curling or hairspray, minimal makeup and I just threw on these clothes. I think you are just buttering me up. Are you going to fire me?"

I laughed and said, "No, I am not going to fire you. I actually wanted to talk about decision making. I trust your judgment and I thought I would put more of that in your hands."

"Oh, is that it?" she said, "I actually have a business model for a more hands off approach by the client. I can describe it to you and see what you think. Then if we agree, I can not ask you all the questions I have in my bag, since they would all be covered. But we'll talk about it after we eat."

I put my hand on her arm for a moment and squeezed, then excused myself and went for the rest of the food. I brought in the two serving dishes then put the chops on a plate and brought them in with the bowl of apple sauce. I uncovered everything and invited her to dig in.

She took good healthy portions of food. Mostly vegetables, a little of the fruit in the provided cup like bowl then a pair of the small chops and some potatoes. She used the squirt butter on the vegetables and waited for me to finish dishing myself. I took slightly more than her and soon we were eating.

"Oh my god, these potatoes are divine, but they'll probably go straight to my ass," she said, "er, sorry, butt."

"Don't you know men have an ass, women have butts," I said with a chuckle.

"Only in mixed company, buddy," she said. "when I am with my girlfriends, we swear like sailors."

I laughed with her and we enjoyed the meal. At the end we talked for perhaps five minutes about the business model where she made decisions. It was actually a bit cheaper than what I was paying because she had less time away just meeting with the client. It included a weekly meeting, to go over the decisions made and the ones that still needed input. Normally this would be bi-weekly at this stage in wedding prep, but we were behind the curve, so she wanted to do it right. I was impressed with her business sense and the model and readily agreed. Then I cleared the table and she insisted she help me rinse dishes and put them in the dishwasher. I set the time delay for four hours and put the leftovers in the fridge including a small container for her to take home. With the kitchen clean, I asked if she would like another glass of wine.