Chapter 17

It’s amazing how a threesome can invigorate a girl, and suddenly I find myself out of the post Nick Casey flunk I’d found myself in. Actually, part of the process might have been seeing him as one of the entrants for this year’s I’m famous, help me escape, and reading that already his flagging career was taking off again. I bet someone will be his kinky jungle mistress - what great publicity.

Even the prospect of attending another wedding as a single can’t dampen my good mood, even the fact it’s my father’s wedding to his child bride is only marginally annoying. I’m surfing on the hopes of fit blokes, free alcohol and sex, sex and more sex. Woo hoo. Okay I know it might not be healthy to be this fixated on getting laid but what else do I have in my life? My job is boring, my Mother is mostly drunk and my Dad is busy making himself a new family. Sex might be transient but it’s fun while it lasts.

And I know I look good. New, bright blue satin dress, tight in all the right places and flowing in others. Classically cut, fashionably expensive and very, very sexy. The tightness and flatness of the material allows for no underwear underneath, it would ruin the line of the whole look. Well, that’s my excuse and I am keeping to it.

Add a hundred pound matching handbag and even more expensive kitten heels and I am on a promise, there is no way I’m not going to score today.

My good mood even allows for me to arrive to the wedding ceremony only a few minutes late. I slip in the back, happy to not have had to do the dutiful daughter bit at the door, whilst everyone gawks on. Including whichever section of the press my father had granted exclusive rights too. Yes, he was in a band once and yes, you’d know which I’m just not going to tell you because I’m sick of being labeled simply for being his daughter.

The ceremony is quick and crappy. She’s wearing something in ivory, straight and expensive with a light, floaty veil and Dad is in a black tux, looking old compared to his soft skinned, doe eyed bride.

Men in the chapel all wear the same smirk that says “Lucky bastard, I wish I were him, she’s half his age. Right on!” whereas the women are looking far more solemn like they are attending a funeral, saying goodbye to another sweet fertile girl to a dirty old pervert with money. They all secretly wish they were her, though - even those a couple of decades too old to fulfill the brief.

The reception is in an expensive hotel, her choice not his then. My Dad is tight, tighter than tight in fact. I think Scrooge is one of his ancestors. It’s tacky in a minimalist way. It’s just like that to show off how much money they’ve spent. You can only get this kind of spare bareness by spending a lot of money.

I’ll not have any of this crap at my wedding. Red roses, big, big wedding gown and a damn good disco and DJ. Everything else will just be trimmings. Including the husband, no doubt. I don’t think love exists - at all. I think it’s all just levels of greed. Greed, want and selfishness. Those who stay together only do so because they continue to get what they need from their partners. Those who divorce, get it, take it, then fuck off with it - leaving broken hearts, houses and children behind them.

But I’m not bitter.

At least the effervescent Jenny has seated me next to her younger and hotter brother, John. He’s tall, skinny and blond, with the cutest smile that I’ve seen in a long while and he’s coming on to me so strong that I am resisting, for the sheer fun of it, seeing just how far he will go to snare me. I’m not going to tease him much more, after dessert, I’m his.

Excusing myself, I stand up. I rest my hand on his shoulder as I walk past, and I know he’ll follow me. Down the corridor I feel a hand on my arm, and I swirl around into his hard body. His lips meet mine with a thud, and our alcohol laced breaths collide and combine as our bodies meld together.

I pull away, grab him by the hand and drag him along the corridor with me, giggling all the way to the disabled toilet. Opening the door I push him in then follow. I shut the door behind us. It’s not a pretty space, it smells of floral disinfectant but it’s big, private and the closest thing to hand.

Actually, his cock is the closest thing to my hand, and I squeeze it through the rough material of his cheap pants, then lower the zip while he lifts my infinitely more expensive dress and finds I’m not wearing knickers. No words, all action. I rub my breasts against his rough cotton shirt and he places himself between my thighs.

“Hold on,” I gasp, snap open my expensive bag and pass him a condom. “Put this on then fuck me.”

He didn’t argue. He slipped into the cover then rammed his cock into me.

No finesse, no foreplay, but who fucking cares? I’m wet, horny and filled with hard cock and I’m more than happy with the strength of this young virile erection pounding into me. I hook my feet around his hips and my hands around his neck and hang on for dear life.

There’s no explosions for me but that of satisfaction at feeling another load shooting inside me and knowing it’s from my new step mother’s brother. He pulls out, I straighten my skirt, blow him a kiss and leave him there panting.

“I’ll have to go now, Dad.” I breeze back into the room and over to my father, who looks well on his way to totally sloshed already.

“Oh, do you have to sweetheart?”

“Yeah, I need to get home, I have work to do this weekend.” Now that’s complete bullshit, but a pretty believable excuse.

“Oh alright then, don’t work yourself to hard. Erm, Jenny and I want to tell you something before you go, though.”

“She’s pregnant. I know.”

“How?” he asks, flabbergasted.

“Someone told me, and you can see her stomach sticking out.” Father still looks completely stunned.

“Oh, well, oh, OK then.”

I’ve really taken the wind from his sails, and before he can make any kind of scene over it, I kiss his cheek and hurry away. On the way to the door I spy Jenny and I grin wickedly. I walk up to her, embrace her, them lay my hand on her stomach,

“Congratulations!” I exclaim. “I’d given up on having brothers and sisters at my age.”

She smiles awkwardly then turns to the other people around me.

“Yes, I was just about to tell you, Mum and Dad.”

The looks on their faces are priceless. I’ve well and truly dropped her in it. Ha!

“But Dad - please - No!” I walk to the door with the noise of two grown men scuffling behind me, accompanied by the impassioned sobs of the bride.

Oops. I didn’t really mean to cause such a fuss, but oh well, I’m not going to eat myself up with guilt over it. She should have told her parents earlier. I just hope their son doesn’t tell them that I took his virginity, or I might be really in trouble.