“So do you want me there tonight?” “I mean if anything goes wrong, if anything’s not right I’ll be there, if you want me to be?
Tamara is silent for a moment, she hadn’t thought too much about that side of things, happy as she was.
“Well, yea….if you like?” “An’ if you’re sure you don’t mind?”
“No I won’t mind!” “You can never be too careful, and besides.” “I kinda wanna watch you get stuffed by two guys!”
Tamara’s mouth opens agape and her cheeks flush.
“You, watch it you!” “Or it’ll be you gets stuffed mate.”
“Ooh I might hold you to that Tamara if you have second thoughts.” She says, flashing her a mischievous smile.
“No, ‘m not doin’ second thoughts Amelia.”
“I’ll jus’ be there watching you Tamara, now come on slutty drawers better get you back to your wedding reception before they all figure out what you’re up to.”
“Tamara’s eyes widen and she gives her an admonishing slap on the arm.
Amelia steps back laughing to herself.
“C’mon, look proper and bridal, virginal!”
“Phwa!” Comes Tamara, haven’t been that for a very long time.” And she downs the rest of her drink with her chin back, taking a breath inside the icey glass interior. Then they make for the door.
“Right shut up you.” She tells Amelia.
“Mum’s the word.”
The weighty door swings back onto the now empty room before being wrestled into submission by a fire door arm, disappearing voices scuttle of down the corridor but inside the near white interior of the bridal suite a quiet peace descends.
As Tamara walks, she feels despite the vodka, a little self conscious. She can feel the cheap knickers against her fanny. Gone is the comforting luxury of the dutiful brides soft satin panties. Here and now, she thinks, a scarlet woman walks the floors, hiding in plain site. She feels a sense of power and purpose in her stride beneath her nervous energy. She is a real woman after all, beneath the somewhat stultifying facade of matrimonial tradition.
She can’t wait to dance with Simon. Should she tell him? There, with all of them people about? He might not have quite the reaction she’d like if she just thrust it on him. Better to wait and see, go with the moment she thinks to herself.
They get into the lift, both silent. As it descends Amelia hits the button.
“I’m just gonna nip to my room alright?”
“Yea fine go on.” Says Tamara checking her dress, wanting to give the impression of being cool and in control.
“Oh well I’ll see you in a bit.” Says Amelia.
The lift stops at the second floor and Amelia exits. Then the doors close again and the lift descends. Tamara breathes out a big lungful of air. Fuckin’ hell girl what are you gettin’ into, she thinks to herself while checking her makeup in the wall to wall mirror of the lift.
But the moments reflection is gone in no time as the lift comes to the softest of stalls and glides the last couple of inches to the floor, as if it were landing slow motion on a giant poofy cushion.
The bride steps into the foyer alone but almost straightaway is greeted by a straggling posy of guests, the real party being inside of the spacious dining area where they all sat and ate, made speeches and performed toasts earlier that afternoon.
“Where ‘ave you been?” Protests a boozey uncle at the entrance way as he stands propped against the doorway like some potbellied, volunteer bouncer come out of retirement.
“Been f’ a lie down uncle Steve.” “It’s ‘ard work bein’ a bride y’know!”
“Well get in ‘ere ‘n see t’ your guests!”
“And while yer at it, he turns to his nephew with an exaggerated wink. “We’ll ‘ave two John Smith’s!”
Tamara waves him off dismissively and passes through.
The uncle turns, using his hand he hails after her. “And some crisps!”
Without a glance her arm comes into the air with the two finger salute as she heads off, passing into the large expanse, scattered with crazy kids under a strobing disco light as some cheesy hit from the eighties gets pummeled out The bride is soon overwhelmed by well wishers, but after a while manages to make it to the bar.
“A pint yea!” Tamara shouts back to a busy barman as she is bumped up the qué.
“It’s the bride” “It’s our Tamara!”
Oo’ja bloody think it is! She thinks to herself.
“You look stunning luv!”
“Thanks.”
There are many kisses and hugs to be doled out as more revellers come up and congratulate the bride on her happy occasion.
“Where’s Simon got to?” She asks.
“Dunno, think he’s over chattin’ by the fruit machines or somethin’ replies her niece.”
“Oh, thanks Sophie.”
She crinkles her brow, he doesn’t normally go on fruit machines.
She receives her pint, takes it to her lips and sups at the frothy head.
“Ah, need this!” She says out loud to herself, then turns to glance across the bar, and to the far side. Discreetly talking to the barman in crisp white shirts are two guys. She turns her head away instantly and looking to her left, up runs a young child who flings his arms about her knees.
“Oop!” She has to mind her drink before it slops down her dress.
“You alright?” “You havin’ a good time?” She calls down to the little lad, who simply nods as he gazes up at her, and she smiles back at him.
As she’s chatting to more people she spots Simon. She is dying to have some him and her time and heads over to him, relaxing in his company for a while but for the secret agenda for the evening that she wishes she could share with him right now.
Gradually the dance floor starts to fill beyond the kids and the mum’s as a few cousins and aunties then the odd drunken uncle who insists they can still dance, start making fools of themselves.
Before long it becomes that time when the bride and groom are asked to officially kick things off and the floor is all their own.
Here they are then in front of all the guests, the start of a new adventure, the romantic couple under the spotlight.
Amelia looks on at the pair, holding her glass of white wine as she stands alone on the edge of the floor in her little cocktail, black ‘n white floral print dress, her slim calves stemming up from her pink stiletto heels.
Tamara tries not to notice her, tries to ignore this reminder, this flag in the middle of the room. She enjoys being held by her man, his familiar touch, his closeness. The day has been demanding even though it’s flown, they hardly had the chance to say a word, now that they are close together it seems contrived, forced. Tamara decides to take the plunge.
“I’m gonna try something tonight.” She calls tentatively into his ear over the music.
“Oh yea!” He smiles. “What’s that?”
She doesn’t know how to answer and just gives an evocative smile and taking her hand up to his cheek finds his mouth with her’s. They kiss each other open mouthed, their tongues reacquainting, both of them a little tipsy by now. Then she retracts and immediately takes her mouth close to his cheek.
“I’ve got them on!” She whispers excitedly into his ear as they sway under the whirling lights.
Simon immediately smiles at her as he gazes back at her, searching those dark, chestnut eyes.
“You haven’t?” He calls back to her.
She nods cautiously, her eyes searching his shyly. “I’m wearing them under my dress.”
This makes him smile.
“What?” “Why ‘r you laughin’?”
“Well they’re not on your head?”
It takes a moment or two before she clocks on, then she slaps him playfully on the ass.
Then smiling, her arms come up over his shoulders. He kisses them, feeling her soft skin on his face, then running her hand down his back she brings it round and takes his hand in hers and between their body’s, discreetly she slowly pushes him down against the softness of her dress, down against her body. Her face turns more serious now, a willful look comes into her eye’s and she presses her hand into his to force him against her vagina, her eyes widen slightly and her lips come agape, she pulls his hand up, and then down, rubs herself with his hand before pushing him against her….and she holds it there, locked, pressed up against her sex.
“I’m gonna be a slut for you tonight Simon.” She blinks, perhaps a hint of nerves.
“For you….I will be a slutty bride!” She lets go his hand and feeling his engorged cock against the inside of her thigh she is pleased with the result, grabs his head with both hands, pulls him in and floods his mouth with her tongue.
Tamara recognises a few whoops from the crowd from her friends and she eases off and smiles, a little string of spit leaves her mouth attached to his which she hurriedly wipes away with her hand.
Suddenly they are joined by other couple’s, family members and friends. Simon tries to speak but Tamara gestures to her lips for him to stay silent, and as he turns away she gets engulfed by her friends and lost to the crowd.