So here’s a sneak peek at the first part of my next story, Fantasy Is More than Black & White. Inspired by Folding Herself In and Mary Cyn’s Wedded Bliss and Plus One, it’s another wedding-themed bit of erotica, this one on the theme of fantasies, it will surprise you to learn.
All these weddings! And it’s only March! 😉
Here’s the blurb:
Everyone has fantasies. Some people are lucky enough to be married to them. Trey doesn’t mind that his sister is marrying a woman; he just isn’t comfortable that Dianne is marrying Lara, who Trey himself had an affair with before he and his own wife got married. But as the wedding gives way to the after-party, the subject of fantasies comes up — and brings up all sorts of interesting possibilities that none of the wedding party expected. (MF, implied MFFM. Explicit language and scenes of sexuality between consenting adults)
Fantasy is More than Black and White
A Wedding Fantasia
Most straight guys would have considered dating a hot bisexual girl a fantasy — even if it only lasted a week and she never did get around to inviting one of her girlfriends in for the porn-requisite threesome.
Unlike most straight guys, it hadn’t ever occurred to Trey to fantasize about any of that. Besides, it had been years ago.
But when that hot bisexual ended up marrying Trey’s sister Dianne… Well, that wasn’t the stuff of fantasy at all.
Trey didn’t mind that his sister was marrying a woman. He was happy to serve as her best man. Ecstatic.
What was throwing Trey for a loop through the whole ceremony wasn’t that Dianne, who’d come out to him when she was twelve, was marrying another woman. It was that she was marrying Lara. Lara Jefferson. Who had slept with everything that moved during college, and after. Including — for one very, very weird week — Trey.
There was something really disturbing about watching your sister say I do to the only woman that you had schtupped since graduation other than your own beloved wife. Something unsettling about watching your sister kiss her bride, and having that bride give you a really nasty wink.
It was like having a wet dream turn into a nightmare.
Trey liked Lara. She was smart. Funny. Had a really amazing repertoire in bed. An amazing mouth, which Trey had been working very hard not to think of as touching his sister in any way. He liked Lara. He just didn’t trust her.
She enjoyed making mischief way too much.
No one knew about their brief fling. It had been during one of the occasional… breaks that he and Jeanne had taken from each other. The last one, actually, before Trey had proposed for the fourth time and Jeanne had finally accepted. Even at the time, he’d known his thing with Lara was a one-time thing. Fun and games. And Trey had been too conventional to find that anything but sad — way too conventional for Lara. She’d made that clear over and over. Kept goggling at him and asking, “How the hell did I end up in bed with you?” Usually right before she jumped on top of him again.
They’d both agreed at the end of it that it had been nice, but that they’d never tell anyone about it. And so far, they’d both stuck with that.
Dianne — with her gallery of tattoos, her vegan food business, and her Buddha-like acceptance of whatever the universe threw at her — was much more Lara’s speed. And Lara really did seem to love Dianne. More to the point, Dianne loved Lara.
Still, as Trey watched the brides walk in matching white dresses back up the aisle while the guests cheered, he had to shake himself and tell himself that everything was great. Wonderful. Happy. Fantastic.
A familiar whiff of Estée Lauder and book mold enwrapped him, making him truly happy as Jeanne’s unique scent announced a more substantial embrace from his wife, and Trey’s world was better again.
“We’ve done it,” he sighed.
Jeanne kissed his ear. “Done…?”
“They’re married. We’ve discharged our duties.”
“Well,” she said with her small, deceptive librarian’s smile, “we do have the pictures. And the speeches. But then, yes, I think you and I have earned a chance to get royally drunk. And then, you know what, Trey?” She bit his ear.
Shivering, he shook his head.
“Well, I think, after we’ve danced and had plenty of good food and drink, I think we should retire to our room and fuck like bonobos.”
Yes. Trey’s world was rapidly improving.
The pictures went incredibly smoothly — thanks to Will, the photographer, who had been a friend of Dianne’s and Trey’s since they were kids together.
Dinner at the reception was an amazing spread (vegetarian, naturally) — though there was a mix-up about the wine that the caterer and Trey agreed to talk about later.
Trey got up and told a few obligatory embarrassing stories about Dianne, said that he knew that his sister was incredibly lucky to have found someone like Lara (though he didn’t say that he knew just how lucky Dianne was), and he wished them the happiest of lives.
Once the polite applause died down, Jeanne stood up and told the assembled crowd that she had known both of the brides for over a decade and had never seen them happier than they were both that night, and that she knew that they would be only happier as the years went on. That she knew that, for Lara and Dianne, the reality of marriage would outstrip the dream of the wedding.
Then she quoted what her own father had said at their wedding: “Marriage is a journey that starts long before a day like this, and carries on, we dearly hope and trust, for many, many decades into the future. It is not a place at which one arrives or a point in time at which the couple can rest easy. It is a path that leads down the aisle and into the future. This wedding is more our celebration of your partnership than any bonding that any institution could fashion.” Jeanne lifted her champagne. “Dianne, Lara — tread the path well.”
After the room all toasted and gave another round of applause, Jeanne said, “And now, it’s time for cake, and fun!”
That brought the largest cheer of all.
As the band — led by another old friend, Jeff — rocked away at a waltz, Trey found himself dancing with his sister, of course. He congratulated her for what felt like the four hundredth time, and she laughed and cried and kissed him on the cheek.
When Lara’s father broke in to dance with his new daughter-in-law, Trey turned and found himself dancing… with Lara. Of course. Who had that supremely mischievous smirk on her face.
“Congratulations,” he said. “Welcome to the family.”
“Thanks.” She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him on the same cheek that Dianne had just smooched. “Funny to think of you as a brother, when I know just what you’ve got in your boxers and just how well you use it.”
Trey felt himself go red, but as he took her in his arms and began to one-two-three, he managed to spit out, “Uh… Thanks.” After a deep breath, he added, “Of course, if the kind of thing that’s in my boxers was that important to you, you wouldn’t have married Dianne. And I’m working very hard to avoid thinking of what you know about what my sister has in her panties.”
“Good point!” Lara laughed, as Trey had hoped she would. Then she pushed up on tiptoe and whispered wetly in his ear. “Of course, Dianne’s not wearing any panties. Neither am I.”
When she stepped back, Trey just stood there, staring at her, and Lara laughed again. “Sorry! Well, not really. But, Trey, bro, I want you to think about that when she takes off my garter.” She raised her eyebrows in exaggerated suggestion. “And look! Here comes your wife. Why don’t you dance with her, and I’ll go see if I can smooch mine. Hi, Jeannie!” Lara gave Jeanne too a kiss on the cheek, leaving a bright red lipstick mark, and then she moved off into the crowd.
“You’ve got lipstick on your cheek,” Trey said, pulling out his hankie to try to cover his discomfort. He wiped his wife’s cheek clean.
Jeanne took the hankie from his hand. “So do you — two sets, actually. Well done!” She tidied him up as well, and they began to dance. After a moment, looking off at the newlyweds, Jeanne asked with a small frown, “So… what were you and Lara talking about?”
“Oh,” said Trey, fighting down the queasy feeling of having to lie to his wife, even a bit, “she was just giving me shit, the way she always does.”
“Yes,” agreed Jeanne, and they danced.
The evening wound down, the guests wandered off to their rooms or to their homes and at last, it was time to get really drunk.
Trey grabbed a bottle of first-rate scotch from the bar (knowing it was already paid for) and Jeff, finally off of the stage, corralled the brides, who were still going strong, Will, and Jeanne, and they all sat at one of the tables and began to swap stories about the wedding — about other weddings. About school. After a half hour, one of the caterer’s staff apologized, but asked if they’d mind heading somewhere else, since they needed to clean up, and Dianne invited everyone up to the bridal suite.
“You sure you want us up there?” asked Trey.
“Oh, brother-in-law of mine,” said Lara, “I’ve been boffing your sister for four years, and I intend to keep doing it for a good long time. I think we can keep our hands off each other for a little while.”
Dianne squealed the way that she’d always done as a kid when Trey had teased her about the girls that she’d had crushes on. It made Trey smile to hear that sound again.
Everyone seemed in agreement: up to the bridal suite it would be for the after-party. As they all headed out the door, the caterer ran up and buttonholed Trey. “About the shiraz…?”
Trey groaned and waved his wife and friends on. “I’ll join you guys as soon as we’ve got this sorted out.”
Jeff lifted the bottle of scotch in salute, and the five left the ballroom.
“So,” sighed Trey, “it wasn’t supposed to be shiraz, it was supposed to be…”
When at last, a good forty minutes later, Trey finally slouched his way up to the hotel’s bridal suite, Will and Dianne were both weeping with laughter on the huge bed, while Jeff stood beside them, apparently examining the carpet really, really carefully. Lara was sitting at the small table, lips parted, eyes sparling, an almost-empty drink held at a dangerous angle at her shoulder, her pale eyes boring through Trey.
Jeanne sat primly beside her, slightly flushed but barely holding in a small grin. Damn.
They’d polished off a considerable proportion of the scotch.
“Trey! You’re back!” Dianne raised a glass that sloshed whisky. “The hero’s hero! You really are the best man!”
Trey flashed her a salute.
Jeanne lifted her chin; a subtle invitation, but one that Trey knew to promise heaven — or possibly hell. He walked to her and started to lean down, when she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him into a knee-weakening, peat-tinged kiss.
The onlookers cheered, his fucking sister loudest of all.
Once he had accepted Jeanne’s whisky-flavored smooch, he poured himself a full tumbler. He’d just wasted nearly an hour bickering with the damned caterer about the difference between shiraz and pinot noir, and he really, really wanted to get on with the fun. He kissed his wife again once he’d pounded down the whole shot, poured himself another, and asked, “So what’s so funny? Sounded from outside like you guys were dying.”
“God, death by laughter! What a way to go!” snorted Will.
“We were talking,” said his wife, enunciating very carefully, “about fantasies.”
“Fa…?” Trey blinked at Jeanne, and then at the rest.
“Yes, Trey,” said Lara, her voice managing to sound simultaneously utterly innocent and absolutely lascivious. “I was just telling everyone that I don’t have any.”
Whatever Trey had been bracing himself for, that wasn’t it. He tried very hard not to laugh, but failed spectacularly, inhaling half of his drink and snorting most of the rest painfully through his nose. “Don’t…?”
“Apparently,” laughed Dianne, “whenever lovely Lala gets an itch, she just sort of scratches it, so she never gets to the fantasy stage.”
Trey stared at Lara, who smiled malevolently back at him and sighed, “Well, it doesn’t seem like a good idea to hold those sorts of impulses in, does it? I’ve had sex with just about everyone I’ve wanted to have sex with, in just about every way I have wanted to. I quite enjoy it. Why should I wait?”
“Good question, Lara,” chuckled Will, winking at Dianne. “So long as your bride’s in the mix, it sounds like a great idea.”
Lara smiled at Dianne. “Of course. I would never, ever want to disappoint her.”
Dianne snorted and asked, “You mean there isn’t anyone you’ve wanted to screw that you haven’t?”
“Well,” said Lara, staring at the ceiling in something like thought, “I suppose that technically there are a few people… For example, Jeff, I haven’t slept with you or….” Lara suddenly trained all of that evil focus on Trey. “Jeannie, may I fuck your husband? You’ve always said how nice his cock is.” She gave him an echo of the wink she’d shot over Dianne’s shoulder at the end of the wedding.
Trey started to cough uncontrollably, while Jeff and Will dissolved into laughter again, and Dianne, naturally, squealed.
“I’m afraid,” answered Jeanne, eyes bright, “that that is one impulse that we shall have to ask you to refrain from indulging. For the moment.” Then she pinched his ass and he yelped, leading to another round of general merriment.
“Oh,” sighed Lara, once the room had settled again. Lifting her glass, she winked. “How nice. I suppose that I can keep that as a fantasy then, after all. Thank you.” She turned toward the trio on the bed. “Well, I would still like to fuck Jeff’s brains out. Dianne, would that be all right with you?”
At first Trey thought Lara must be joking, but she got up and floated toward her wife and the guitarist.
Jeff got a predatory look that always gave Trey the heebie-jeebies — since it had so often been aimed at Trey’s sister, who didn’t like boys…
But Dianne inexplicably said, “Since you already know… Depends on if I get to join. Jeff?”
Jeff squeezed her hand and reached the other out toward Tara, who took it and purred, “Works for me. Okay, Will?”
Trey’s jaw was somewhere around his ankles. He knew he should say something, but couldn’t even think where to start.
“Uh… Umm,” Will stammered, eyes wide.
“We haven’t talked about your fantasies yet, Willy-boy,” Jeff said gruffly, an arm around each bride’s waist, “but I bet they aren’t too far from mine, right?”
“Actually,” said Lara, “I happen to know that your fantasies and his aren’t the same, but they fit together pretty fucking well.”
Jeff blinked, and Will just nodded mutely, his dark skin darkening even further.
“Will likes to watch,” said Dianne, reaching across Jeff’s legs and running a finger up her wife’s thigh.
“And take pictures,” added Lara, drawing out that last word in a way that made it sound… incredibly nasty.
The four of them locked eyes, looking as if they might go at it right there and then, and Trey would have exploded, but fortunately Jeanne cleared her throat. “Well, now that that’s settled,” she said, as if addressing a city council meeting, “perhaps Trey and I should head off to our room. Good night, everyone.”
Four sets of eyes owled at them. Before Trey could think of anything to say, Jeanne grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the bridal suite.
Trey’s brain began to boil with images like some obscene stew: Lara, well, he’d always known, but Dianne…? She’d never even been with a guy, so far as he knew. And Jeff, well, a guy would, but not with Trey’s sister, and… Watching?
At the stairwell, he turned to go back down the hall and stop whatever they were getting up to before it got too far, but Jeanne grabbed his shoulder, pushed him against the banister and very demurely stuck her tongue down his throat.
Any thought of Lara or Jeff or any of the rest of it went right out of his head. Part of him was boiling still, but it wasn’t his brain, and his senses overflowed with curly brown hair and his wife’s whisky-hot mouth and ass….
“Have I got your full attention, now, Trey?”
To be continued!
Sorry. Nasty cliffhanger there. But it really was about the last place I could safely stop….
Any thoughts? I’d love any feedback you might have on what I’ve got so far! I’m hopeful that we’ll release this puppy by the weekend.
Oh, and one more thing (this is me doing my Steve Jobs impression): I’m working madly away on the paranormal/fantasy-ish erotic novel that I’ve been trying to get finished. (I posted the prologue a couple of weeks ago.) First draft almost done; hoping to get it off to the betas soon. If you’d like to volunteer, just leave a comment below! I’d love to get your feedback — it’s about 50,000 words, so a short novel. And there’s plenty of sex — M/F, M/F/F, and F/F, just so we’re clear.
And I’m also working on the next Juliet and Friendly Ménage stories, so I’ll let you know about those as well!