I wanted her. I had wanted her since I had first set eyes on the delicious bridesmaid and she had pouted for the bawdy group thundering into the registry office with all the grace of a dozen charging rhinoceroses.
But she flirted, all of the bridesmaids did: giggling coyly as they looked over their shoulders towards Mike’s rugby team and blowing us sporadic kisses. Then she flashed her knickers at us when she sat down at the top table. I only saw them for a second, but they were delicate black lace briefs, covered with a small band of white dots while hinting at the subtle deliciousness below.
I wanted them on my hotel room floor, but her cheeky smile taunted us; the curve of her lips smirking as we watched her drop the merest of crumbs into her cleavage and then subtly remove the errant cheesecake from her breasts. The long luscious lick of her cream covered spoon, sliding her gorgeous lips alluringly around the dessert. It caused a trouser-based reaction.
During the reception she winked at me, and then disappeared, flashed her knickers from across the dancefloor before sitting to talk to someone else. She was teasing. The mischievous girl was taunting; this was her sister’s wedding and she was flaunting her womanly charms to gather more attention than her elder sibling. It was like Pippa and Kate all over again.
But it was only me that noticed. No-one else seemed to realise what the little bridesmaid was doing. I needed to be bold; only being bold didn’t come naturally. I needed to take the bull by the horns and go to her.
Which was how I was sat with Mike and his wife, wishing the happy couple a good honeymoon, idly watching his new sister-in-law bounce across the room. “You’ve not met,” my friend mentioned as the coquette arrived back at the little table with a drink. “This is Sam, my …”
“She’s been flirting with me all day,” I interrupted, as the tease sat down opposite. She giggled, playing with her long blonde hair and twirling it around her finger. Her eyes were soaked with innocence, her grin was dripping with mischief. “And been a right little tease.”
“She does that! Always does that. It’ll get her into trouble!” The bride replied.
Sam gasped, poking out her tongue in response and glancing at me again. I am not sure what came over me, but I instinctively reached for the playful minx, and pulled her over my knee. She was shocked at first, unable to resist and then laughed as I gently patted her bum.
“This is the trouble,” I said loudly; the bride laughed as I slowly pulled her dress to her waist and liberated her lacy briefs. “You have been a naughty little girl, haven’t you? Teasing and goading until someone bites.”
She nodded breathlessly. While the party around us giggled at the sight, I looked into her gaze, staring up at me, and knew that it wasn’t just a game. I needed to be bold and I wasn’t going to lose her attention now that I had it.
The first smack came from nowhere; the gasp came from her lips. She forced them closed with a bite of her lip as she glared defiantly back at me. The second hit landed forcefully on her cheeks, reddening them with a slap of my palm. “Say sorry,” I demanded through gritted teeth.
“No,” she panted; my hand rubbing her peachy arse with delicate strokes and spanking her flesh for a third time; I wanted to fuck her senseless not spank her, but I needed her attention. A squeeze of her nipple with my left hand through her dress had her squealing expletives while my right hand delivered a volley of smacks to her exposed rear.
“I’m sorry,” she cried, squeezing her face into a disappointed snarl.
“Oi,” a voice cried as a red-faced man strode to the table. “What do you think you’re doing?”
Confidence surged through me as alcohol ruled my behaviour; it was the Father of the Bride and I gave him a wry smile. “Hi. I’m teaching your daughter a lesson. I’m now going to take her upstairs to my hotel room and give her a damn good thrashing and then I’m going to fuck her senseless.” It was a smack in the face as he looked at the flushed cheeks of Sam, pulling her knickers back to her waist. “Come on,” I said to the startled bridesmaid. “Let’s go.”
And she strode out of that room hand-in-hand with me.
Being bold works: I wanted her, and I was going to have her.
Featured image used under a CC-license from here.