The Wedding Weekend Pt. 01

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Trip to wife's hometown leads to big revelations.
10.8k words
3.34
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Part 1 of the 3 part series

Updated 06/08/2023
Created 01/18/2018
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"Just be friendly, be yourself, and I'm sure they'll love you just as much as I do," said Jenny before getting out of the car, "And whatever happens, play along. These guys will never let you live it down if they think you're a wet blanket."

It was advice I'd later come to regret following.

I'm Brad and Jenny was my wife of over two years. We'd just arrived in the small town where she'd grown up, there for the wedding of two of her old high school friends.

Jenny and I had met in the city where we'd both gone to college and for the entire time I'd known her she'd never gone back to her hometown. Her parents had retired and moved away years ago and there wasn't a whole lot left for her there. Her one last connection was her old group of high school friends, whom she spoke of often but I had never met. Jenny had insisted that it wasn't even necessary to invite them to our wedding, which we had tried to keep small.

"Besides," she had said at the time, "I can't invite one without inviting them all, and I'd rather not have any exes at my wedding."

The ex in question was a guy named Rick, her first "real" relationship as she'd put it. Jenny really hadn't dated at all until her senior year of high school when she got together with Rick. They broke up a year later after failing to make long-distance work while Jenny was away at school and Rick was still hanging around town.

I never got jealous when she'd mention Rick because my relationship with Jenny was rock solid. We had loads in common and our personalities were very compatible. She was intelligent, had strong morals and it didn't hurt that she was absolutely beautiful. She was your basic dream girl: adorable face, shiny brunette hair and an amazing figure with plump, heavy breasts and a soft ass with just the right amount of wiggle to it. She was the quintessential girl-next-door and I was head over heels the moment I met her.

The wedding we'd come down for was that of her old friends Erika and Chuck. Jenny had been planning the trip for months and early on she had accepted an invitation to stay at a rented lake house on the edge of town with her old inner-circle: Mark and Tiffany, longtime sweethearts; Jon, a burly goofball; and of course Rick, her one-time boyfriend. These five were closer with each other than they were with the larger group and they were the ones I'd heard the most stories about.

"And don't let Jon and those guys hassle you too much," said Jenny. She'd gotten out of the car and leaned back inside to give me more advice, "If they start ragging on you for being a 'city boy' or anything like that, just be cool and show them it doesn't bother you."

With that she slammed her door shut and ran up towards the lake house to give Tiffany, who was coming out to greet her, a hug.

We unloaded the car and the introductions started. I'd never met anyone who was actually named Tiffany (I thought it was a name only strippers in movies had) but Tiffany fit that bill pretty well. She had curly blonde hair, wore cheap, skimpy clothes and had a pair of fake tits that could poke your eye out. Seemingly never more than five feet away was her husband Mark, who seemed like an alright guy, if a little arrogant.

I was a little taken aback by Jon, whom Jenny had described as "big". That was one hell of an understatement. He was a good foot taller than me, had to be close to 300lbs and was built like Paul Bunyan with a beer gut. His thick, scraggly beard only added to the effect. But I soon realized that everything Jenny had said was true and Jon was a really, genuinely nice guy with a great sense of humor.

Last but not least was Rick. I was a bit worried about getting a cool reception, but he smiled, shook my hand and was nice as can be. Like all the others he lit up and gave Jenny a big hug when he saw her, but nothing to bat an eye at.

It was Friday afternoon and the wedding wasn't until Sunday, so after settling in we all gathered on the deck outside, chatting, drinking, telling stories and looking out at the beautiful lake.

"Great house, by the way, Mark," I said. Mark had been the one to find the place and invite us.

"Yeah, isn't it? We've come out here a few times over the years but this might be the last hurrah," he said, "Owners are tired of renting it and are looking to sell."

"Boo! This place is great!" said Jenny. She was unusually exuberant, but I chalked it up to being back with her old friends (and the two beers she'd already drained).

"Sure is. Anyone for a swim?" asked Jon with his trademark toothy grin.

There was general disinterest in the idea but Jon's enthusiasm for it soon had us all heading off to change into our swimsuits. In our room, I put on my trunks and watched Jenny put on her flowery, red one-piece. I loved watching her full breasts hang and jiggle as she bent to slip on the suit. Her boobs are amazing; like overplump grapefruits hanging off her with a gentle slope, ending in lovely pink pencil eraser nipples. She noticed me watching and smiled.

"I brought a bikini too," she said, stepping into my arms, "Would you prefer I wear that one?"

"I'm pretty sure you'll get jumped if you did," I said, "This one might do the trick as well."

We kissed and I squeezed her sweet ass with both hands. She pulled away and playfully slapped my chest.

"Later. We don't want to be rude," she said, and with that grabbed a beach towel and headed out of the room.

I stopped on the way out to grab some more drinks, and when I reached the edge of the lake everyone was already in the water. Jon and Rick were playfully splashing at Jenny, who was still acclimating to the water. It must have been cold since even at a distance I could see her juicy nipples starting to poke out against the flexible fabric of her swimsuit. I'm sure the guys were enjoying that show but what the hell, so was I, and before long we were all chest deep in the water and Jenny's nipples were out of view anyway.

We all waded around for a bit then Jon suggested we play some games or something. We started with the classic Who Can Hold Their Breath Longest, then moved on to the old standby Marco Polo. That's when I started noticing the touching. Tiffany and Mark were the most obvious; whenever one would go to tag the other you could bet their hand would "accidentally" land on one of the more risque parts of the body. As the game went on, I noticed that Rick and Jon were also tagging Tiffany in ways that they probably wouldn't have gotten away with in grammar school. Mark didn't seemed fazed in the slightest by it, even laughing when Rick turned quickly and accidentally-maybe-on-purpose got his palm right on one of Tiffany's tits. Her response was mock outrage and we all laughed about it.

Jenny was...maybe a bit jealous? She was laughing along with the rest of us but it felt like she was trying really hard to fit in with her old crew, even harder than I was. None of the guys were taking any liberties with her, but at moments it kinda seemed like she was daring them to, even egging them on maybe.

That stuff might have all been in my head but then Jenny made no attempt to dodge a tag from Jon and he ended up getting a pretty good palmful of her left breast. It all happened in a split-second, but it seemed like she may have even thrust her chest out into it.

"Wo-ah, sorry Jen!" said Jon, realizing he'd gotten a little fresh with my wife, "And sorry, Brad, these big paws are clumsier than they look."

I laughed it off as an accident, and on Jon's part I truly think it was, but looking back there's not a doubt in my mind that it led to what happened next.

"Well I might be 'it' but I need another drink," said Jenny, "Any takers?"

Everyone raised their hands.

"Well if we're takin' a break, I wanna show Brad the truck," said Jon. He'd been bragging about his new truck all day and I'd been feigning interest.

"I think I better help Jenny with the drinks," I said, not all that interested in checking out a pick-up.

"Nah, you guys go on ahead," said Rick, "I'll be drinking most of 'em anyway, I oughta help with the heavy-lifting."

With that, Jenny and Rick headed off to the house, Jon and I went around to the driveway and Mark and Tiffany continued making out in the lake.

Jon really was excited to show off his truck and rattled on non-stop about the features and add-ons and the towing capacity and his old fishing boat and he goes fishing all the time and-

"Be right back Jon, gotta take a leak," I said. I did have to pee but mostly wanted a quick reprieve from the truck talk.

I slipped into the house through the garage and headed for the bathroom. As I crossed the long hallway leading towards the back of the house, I caught sight of Jenny and Rick all the way down at the end. Or rather, I caught sight of their reflections in the big glass windows that lined the kitchen out to the back porch. They didn't see me, or probably couldn't with the way the light was hitting the window, but I could see them well and boy do I mean well. Jon was standing right behind Jenny and had his hands under her large boobs. Her suit was still on but her nipples were hard again as Jon lifted her ample breasts from beneath then let them drop, causing them to shake and wobble inside her tight bathing suit. He pushed his thumbs up against the sides of them and gently shook them back and forth, all the while looking over her shoulder down into her deep line of cleavage. He was pressed against her back and if he had a hard-on (what am I saying, "if") it had to be jammed against her lower back or even her butt.

Throughout the whole 20 second ordeal, Jenny had on this expression of "boys will be boys". She scoffed and giggled a bit and when he pulled his hands off her she turned and patted his arm in a "feel better now?" kind of way. She grabbed a few beers and went back outside, while Rick adjusted his swimsuit and followed after with some beers of his own.

I still had to pee but now it was kind of difficult as I'd gotten hard watching Jenny get fondled. It's not something I was into really, letting someone else fool around with my wife, but there was some kind of voyeuristic side to me that really seemed to enjoy it. Furthermore, I knew how strong my relationship was with Jenny and if she had shrugged it off, it must not have been too big a deal. I thought about Mark and his laissez-faire response to seeing Tiffany get groped and decided that old high school friends just have different boundaries than others. Still, I urgently wanted to ask Jenny what the hell had just happened.

After using the bathroom I came outside to find everyone back on the deck. The sun was getting low and swimming wouldn't be ideal with the cold and the bugs. Jenny and Rick were sitting on opposite ends of the group and didn't act in any way like anything unusual had happened. I'm not sure what made me look, but I did notice for the first time that Rick seemed to have a sizeable bulge in the front of his swim trunks, though that could have just been the way he was sitting.

When Jenny offered to grab drinks again I immediately volunteered to help and followed her inside.

"Jenny, I..." I was trying to decide how confront her about what I'd seen but she beat me to it.

"Brad, I'm sorry, but something not so cool happened earlier," she said, a slight tremor in her voice, "When Rick and I came in to grab the beers, we were kind of talking about old times and he made a joke about missing my boobs and "just wanting to say hello" to them. It's kind of this joke we had when we were dating, where he'd play with my chest and talk to them like they were a different entity from me. I was playing along I guess and before I knew it he had his hands up by my breasts and was moving them and shaking them a little bit. It was all really innocent in a way and nothing else happened, but as soon as it was over I started realizing how that would make you feel to know some other guy was touching me like that."

Well there you go. Without so much as three words from me she'd confessed to the whole thing. Not only that, but she'd more or less confirmed my hope that it was just some stupid old friend/boyfriend connection thing that I'd be petty to get overly upset about.

I was thrown off-guard enough that I played the part of "dumbfounded" and "this is the first I've heard of it" convincingly. She was clearly getting upset and said something about ruining the weekend and going home, but I quickly started comforting her and telling her that it wasn't that big a deal.

"Are you sure?" she asked, a little surprised perhaps but also cheering up a bit, "I guess with all of us back together we're all kind of reverting back to stupid horny high school stuff, I just don't want to do anything that will make you love me less."

I assured her that there was nothing she could do that would make that happen. In hindsight, I wish I'd set slightly stricter ground rules than that, but it sounded romantic at the time. We even kissed right after.

"I want you to have a great weekend," I said, "Let's just try not to let it get too out of hand, ok?"

In other news, man is vague about setting sexual boundaries between his wife and other guys. More on that story as it develops.

We went outside with the drinks and spent the rest of the afternoon talking and enjoying the sunset.

A bit later on, we got dressed and went into town for dinner (and of course cocktails). For a group of people approaching their late-twenties, these guys were pretty wild. We did shots, chugged beers, made scenes and generally did a bunch of things I'm normally not comfortable with. But I was determined not to be the wet blanket of the group and to prove to them (and probably to myself) that I too knew how to have a good time.

We were all pretty tipsy when we got back, with the exception of Jenny who had served (reluctantly) as the DD. As we all filed into the house, Jon threw out another another of his infamously well-articulated plans.

"Hot tub?" he asked.

Again, despite a general lack of enthusiasm from the group, Jon was able to turn us all on to the idea and ten minutes later I was back in the bedroom putting on my still damp swim trunks. Jenny walked out of our bathroom and, to my surprise, was wearing the bikini she had teased earlier.

"Is it a fashion faux paux to be seen in the same suit twice?" I joked, getting a polite laugh from her.

"I can't stand the feeling of putting on a wet suit," she said, "Besides, I don't think we'll stay in the tub all that long."

I was a little concerned about the effect her new suit would have on the men in the group. It was still relatively tame as bikinis go, but with a figure like my wife's it doesn't take much to go from tame to drop-dead sexy. The top did a good job of holding her boobs up, but did very little to keep them from swaying around with every move she made. The bottoms were cut a little high so even though they covered her ass pretty well I knew that with every step they would wedge further into her crack, revealing her full, firm buns. That had been a fun discovery during our trip to Bermuda last year.

But like she said, the night seemed to be winding down and we'd probably all be back in bed soon.

Famous last words.

Stepping onto the back porch we were hit with blaring music and raucous laughter from Jon, Mark, Tiffany and Rick who were already in the tub.

"Come on in, guys!" said Jon, clearing a space for us, "Plenty of room!"

There was room but not plenty of it. Still, I was pretty happy that my spot was right between Jenny and Tiffany. To my right the seating arrangement went Jenny, Jon, Rick, Mark and ending with Tiffany on my left. She was wearing the same skimpy bikini she'd had on earlier, and I'll admit that after a closer look her fake boobs actually looked pretty damn nice. That and the fact that there was a clear separation (300 hulking pounds of it, in fact) between Jenny and Rick had me ready to relax, get drunk and enjoy the hot tub.

The jacuzzi jets were on a timer so every so often one of us would have to get out of the tub and go reset it. When it was Jenny's turn, she rose out of the water and, from my vantage point next to her, I could see that her bikini bottoms had in fact become significantly lodged inside her asscrack. As we were all a bit cramped, when she turned away from me her exquisite, bountiful ass cheeks were only about a foot away from my face. Tiffany also noticed and gave Jenny a wolf whistle which got everybody focused on Jenny's butt. Jenny shot her a "how dare you!" look, but laughed it off and did not adjust her suit, giving the whole crew a good look at her wiggling ass as she walked the few feet over to the timer. I'm not sure if maybe she didn't realize how exposed she was, or if she didn't care. When she was stepping back into the tub, instead of her ass facing me it was pointed at Jon, who got the same very close look that I'd had. He mocked a sort of "I'm not looking" expression, trying to be funny, but he definitely got a very up-close and personal view of my wife's butt.

"Did I mention before how good it is to see you, Jen," he said once she'd settled back in, "Though, I didn't know we'd be seeing so much of you."

We all laughed and Jenny feigned indignation. I laughed too, but I was starting to feel a little awkward about the way Jenny seemed to be craving the attention and/or approval of her old friends.

The group was talking yet again about old times so I didn't have much to contribute but the occasional question or laugh. The stories had progressed quite smoothly throughout the day from PG to R to what was rapidly approaching pornographic. They all knew which of them and which of their other friends had hooked up, the things they'd done, where they'd gotten caught and in what position. Tiffany and Mark had apparently been sexually active with each other since early high school days and there wasn't a party or get-together where they didn't sneak off to have sex and, inevitably, have one of their friends accidentally catch them in the act. Tiffany joked that she'd been seen getting fucked so many times that if she had become a pornstar it actually would have decreased her audience.

Supposedly for my benefit (though I hadn't really asked) they then started to explain who had dated or hooked up with who amongst their little group.

"Well I was actually the first one to date Tiff," said Rick with a laugh, "But that was Third grade so I'm not sure if it really counts."

"Ya'll did hold hands at recess, once," said Jon, tipping his beer to Rick.

"Well I count it!" said Tiffany, "I was Mark's first girlfriend when we started dating in Fourth grade, so having dated two people in my life makes me worldly and sophisticated compared to him!"

We laughed, Mark smiled adoringly at her and gave her a kiss.

Jon shared some stories of his sexual misadventures. From the sound of it he was the class clown and very popular, but still often overlooked by the ladies.

"Maybe," said Tiffany, "But once everyone learned that you were "gifted" you didn't have much trouble did'ya?

Mark and Rick snickered a bit at that. I wasn't sure what it meant. Jenny patted Jon on the shoulder like he was a big puppy dog.

"Once they learned what a nice, sweet guy you are," she said.

Rick snorted.

"Uh-huh, that must be what it was," he said.

I wasn't following but the conversation flowed right into Rick's dating history. The foil to Jon, he'd been very lucky with the ladies throughout high school. Everyone in the group had a story about one of his conquests or another, but they all seemed to be holding something back. Then Mark, perhaps a little drunker than the rest of us, seemed to let something slip.

"...So Tiff and I wake up at Wendy Anderson's house the morning after Junior Prom," said Mark, "And as we go down to get breakfast all we can hear is wailing and moaning from Wendy's room. This goes on for a solid hour before it finally stops and out comes our boy here. He sits down with some OJ and we ask why Wendy didn't come down with him. He's half embarrassed and half proud as he tells us, with all seriousness, that Wendy was having trouble walking."