The Best Man

I can’t believe it. My little brother just got married.

The amount of chaos we all went through to get him to this moment…

Four months was nowhere near enough time to plan a wedding, but somehow we seem to have pulled it off.

There were more than a few moments that felt like everything was falling apart… like the mini-freak out he had this morning about his tie… but in the end, all that matters is them saying, ‘I do.’

I wish I could actually see them dancing, but looks like Great Aunt Joyce strikes again with one of her massive hats. Oh well, there’s going to be an absurd amount of photos and videos of this moment. I can just watch them on Mom’s phone later.

For now, I’m going to go make sure that giant pile of coats at the front actually got put away in coat-check. Last I saw the bride’s cousin, the actual coat-checker, had abandoned her post and was locked in the bathroom suite. Too much tequila, apparently.

That’s kind of been my job today. Staying in the back, keeping everything running smoothly behind the scenes.

I brought the bridal party coffee this morning. Settled the bill with the florist. Even ran out to buy my brother three new ties when he suddenly hated the one he’d chosen.

I’m not even in the wedding party, but I’ve been more help than any of the groomsmen. I think he actually would have asked me to be his best man if Stacy’s family wasn’t so traditional.

Besides, that role was automatically filled by—

“What are you doing hiding back here?”

“Shit! You scared me. Don’t sneak up on people like that.”

“Sorry, sorry.”

And speak of the devil.

My brother’s best friend. Annoying best friend, I should add. You two have been inseparable since you met in… college, I think?

I remember meeting you for the first time one summer at our parent’s house. I thought you were a little obnoxious, but I could tell you and Nick had a really special friendship.

And even now, despite this whole ‘aloof cool guy’ act you put on, I can tell you’ve taken your duties as best man pretty seriously.

It was nice actually, knowing I had someone else making sure this all went off without a hitch.

“They look great out there though, huh?”

“Yeah, they do.”

“So, did you get demoted from ‘wedding guest’ to… ‘coat-check-assistant’?”

“Uh, yeah. Stacy’s cousin, the actual coat-checker is… well, let’s just say she and tequila don’t mix.”

“Some people just can’t handle their liquor, huh?”

“You’re one to talk. I heard all about Nick’s bachelor party, you know. Your little incident with the public fountain.”

“Well, that was a dare. And I always like a challenge.”

“It’s your world, we’re just living in it, huh?”

“Something like that.”

“Must be nice. Never having to think about the consequences of your actions, never over-thinking…”

“Oh, is this a moment of actual honesty? Please, tell me how you really feel.”

“How I really feel? Hm, okay, well… I think you’re kind of an ass, but you already know that. And you’d do anything, like jumping naked into a fountain, to get attention.”

“Interesting. And did it work?”

“What?”

“The fountain incident. Did it get your attention?”

I feel a flush of heat in my cheeks and all I can do is roll my eyes at you. I normally have something to say back to your stupid comments, but… that one kind of took me by surprise.

It’s always been like this between us. A constant push and pull between attraction and annoyance. We’ve played this game for so long that it’s hard to tell what’s real and what’s just habit.

“Here, let me give you a hand with all those.”

“Oh… uh, sure. Thanks.”

You come inside the coat closet and undo your two jacket buttons. Your hands flex in front of you before picking up a coat and winding it around a hanger.

When I first met you all those years ago, I kind of dismissed you. You were over-confident, loud, always around. You just gave off an arrogant ass kind of vibe.

You’ve certainly got the look down: perfectly messy hair, that mischievous grin that can change in a second to an innocent smile. But the way you talk about my brother, I can tell you really care about him. And so, begrudgingly, that makes me respect you.

From what I’ve heard, the bachelor party you planned at that exclusive jazz club was killer. He wouldn’t shut up about it for days afterward. I was pleasantly surprised that you didn’t take him to a strip club or something.

It was thoughtful of you. And makes me suspect that maybe there’s more to you than I first thought.

“So, how about you?”

“How about me, what?”

“Do you ever just do what you want? Or are you always overthinking and worrying about consequences?”

“Well, I’ve never swam naked in a city fountain before if that’s what you’re asking.”

“Fair. Let me put it this way. Do you ever just… have an impulse to do something? And instead of thinking through all the possibilities… you just do it?”

I feel my body flush with heat as you put down the jacket you were wrestling onto a hanger and turn to face me.

“Sure, sometimes, I guess. Depends on what it is.”

“Because… I keep having this impulse about you. I can’t stop thinking about what it would be like… us, together…”

I look up from the coat in my hands and… your eyes are locked on mine.

It’s hard to say if you’re just messing with me or if this is genuine… but there’s an intensity in your eyes I’ve never seen before. A look like you have a lot more to say, but you’re holding back.

I’ve never seen you hesitate before. Not like this.

“Sorry, I—maybe I shouldn’t have—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa. What happened to Mr. Reckless? Come on… don’t think. Just do it.”

This kiss is deep… intense…

You should not feel this good. But, fuck, you do.

You pull back and your fingers curl against my cheek. I think we’re both a little in awe by what just happened.

“Is that what you want? You want me to keep going?”

“Keep going.”

“Touch me.”

You trail your hands down my body, starting at my neck and moving down my bare shoulders. You trace my figure with your hands, your fingertips brushing over my tits before stopping at my hips.

You walk me back against the wall. I lean back against the smooth wood and brace myself.

“How long have you been thinking about doing this?”

“Longer than I’d like to admit.”

“Yeah? This how you imagined it?”

“In a coat closet at my best friend’s wedding? No, can’t say this is how I thought it would happen.”

“No? Huh.”

You drag your palm up my thigh, lifting my dress as you go.

Your touch is slow and deliberate. Almost like you’re challenging me… like you’re letting this thing between us unfold naturally instead of diving in headfirst.

I lift my leg up and curl it around your waist to bring you closer. My dress is rolled up to my hips; the thin fabric of my underwear is the only thing separating you from my pussy.

“You want me to touch you… here?”

I watch your face as you slide a hand between us and trail your fingers along my panties… up and down…

“Yes.”

You push your hips into me. Our lips are so close but don’t touch—close enough that I can smell your cologne. I can feel your breath on my neck as you work your fingers inside my underwear.

“Fuck, don’t tease me. I want you in me.”

“What, here? Do you just do whatever you want?”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

Oh god, your mouth feels so good on mine. I don’t know how, but it’s like you already know my body. Like you know exactly where to touch…

I fumble with the buttons on your shirt and you quickly shrug out of our jacket. By the time you get your shirt off, I’m stepping out of my panties and kicking them away.

You sink down onto your knees in front of me and drag your mouth down my inner thigh.

“Oh my god… Jesus, just touch me.”

You pause for a moment and smirk up at me before sinking your tongue between my lips.

Shit, I know no one can see us but they could hear us. I have to be quiet but… oh god, it feels so good.

“Shh.”

“Fuck, you’re good at that… oh my god.”

You circle your tongue over my clit, drawing circles around it… stroking it up and down. My pussy clenches every time your tongue dips down to my entrance.

Your hands grip my ass through my dress and pull me into you. I prop one of my legs on top of your shoulder as your fingers spread my wetness around.

“That feels so fucking good. Keep going, keep going…”

I push my fingers through your hair and squeeze.

“Yes, don’t stop. Oh, yeah…”

“Shit! Shh… stop, stop. Someone’s coming.”

You get off your knees and rise to your full height. Your eyes stay on mine as you unbuckle your belt.

“Help me get these off.”

“Oh my god, here.”

Your hands wind around my back and I feel your fingers working to unzip my dress as we kiss. I shrug it off my shoulders and let it fall to the ground.

“You’re really fucking beautiful.”

You take my tits in your hands and guide my nipples into your mouth. There’s an urgency about the way you’re sucking and biting them like you’re expecting us to get caught again at any moment.

“I need you.”

“Mm, say that again.”

“I need you. Here, just… lie down.”

“Whatever you say.”

You lower yourself onto the ground, legs spread, looking up at me with that devil-may-care smile I’ve known for so long.

I climb on top of you with one leg on either side of your waist.

“I need you inside me.”

“Tell me you have a condom?”

“Jacket pocket.”

I grab your jacket off the floor and search the pockets. Thank god—there it is.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, too? Your poker face isn’t as good as you think it is.”

“Rude.”

I dig my hands into your chest and push you back down onto the ground. I feel like taking control. I want to watch your face as you enter me. I want to dig my nails into your chest while your cock spreads me apart.

Your hands clamp around my thighs as I position myself over you… and slowly lower down.

“Oh my god…”

“Fuck yes.”

“Oh, yeah… fuck—touch me…”

I grind down onto you, sliding back and forth on your cock as you hold me in place. Your hand squeezes around my tits. You pinch and twist my nipples and a rush of heat goes straight to my clit.

“Oh, fuck, keep going, keep going…”

“That good?”

“Oh yeah, just like that. Harder—do it harder—”

I can feel every muscle in my body tensing and releasing in response. It’s like something inside me has burst apart… like I’m finally letting myself open for you.

You settle your thumb onto my clit, working it around in circles as I rock my body into yours.

“Fuck, oh my god!”

“Shh. Oh, I bet it’s so hard for you isn’t it? Riding my hard cock trying not to make a sound…”

“So keep me quiet.”

You grip my waist with one hand and pull yourself up off the ground. Your other hand presses against my cheek and you push your thumb into my mouth.

“Shh, that’s it. Keep going.”

You pull your thumb away and your whole hand settles across my mouth. I press my hand against yours to hold it in place.

“Oh god, I’m getting close!”

“Yeah, that’s it, keep going.”

I don’t care where we are or who can hear us. There’s something so… dirty and desperate about this… All I need is for you to make me cum…

“Yeah, use me like that. Just like that… c’mon… c’mon, yeah…”

You pull me down to you, smothering my moans in a kiss as you continue to thrust up into me.

“Yeah, fuck, almost—”

You hold my hips tight and thrust up into me. Your eyes close. Your cock twitches inside me as you cum.

Oh god. I can feel myself clenching around you… my own orgasm still pulsing through me… I haven’t had sex that good in a long time.

“Shit.”

“Here, let me help you…”

Your hands grip my hips again, but gently this time, as you guide me off you. You’re holding onto the base of the condom too, making sure it stays on.

You stand up and hold your hand out to me.

You help me up before finding your pants on the ground and stepping back into them. I do the same with my dress as you peel the condom off.

“Uhh… where—”

“There’s a bin under the counter. Zip me?”

Your hands linger on my back for a few moments as you pull up the zipper of my dress.

I smooth down my hair and do a quick check of myself. It’s hard to tell without a mirror, but I think I’m good. Just-been-fucked-hair isn’t quite the look I’m going for today.

You walk out first, taking a look down the hall before motioning for me to follow.

A new mountain of coats has been discarded on the counter while we were otherwise occupied.

“Do you think anyone heard us?”

“Come on. Isn’t the idea of someone hearing us half the fun?”