Unspoken Pleasure

A yellow checkered cab pulls up in front of the church. I hike up my enormous crinoline skirt and trip into the backseat. Troy runs outside as I slam the car door.

“Maeve! Wait!”

I knock frantically on the plastic partition.

“Go. Now. Please.”

The cab driver speeds off, leaving Troy and everything else behind. I look at my reflection in the window. My makeup is a mess. I sniffle and wipe my nose on my arm.

“Where to?”

“The closest place that serves alcohol.”

“You got it.”

I stare vacantly at the horizon but I don’t see any of it. I just keep replaying that horrible moment in my head, analyzing and agonizing until I’m in a blind rage. The driver glances at me in the rearview mirror.

“He must have done something pretty bad for you to run out like that.”

“He’s hooking up with my twin brother.”

“Yeesh. Well, better you find out now than ten years down the line.”

“No offense, but I’m not really in the mood for conversation.”

“None taken.”

We arrive at a plain brick building in the middle of nowhere. I don’t know how much time has passed. I just feel empty. The driver turns back to look at me.

“Fraternal Order of the Spotted Owl. Best you’re gonna get in a dry county. It’s a members-only club but I have a feeling they’ll make an exception for you.”

“Thank you. Really.” I take a deep breath and try to center myself. “How much do I owe you? Do I even have my wallet?”

“No charge. Runaway bride special.” He comes around the side to help me out. “I hope you have a better tomorrow.”

“Can’t be worse than today, right?”

I rip off my veil and shakily traverse the gravel parking. The heavy wood doors swing out in front of me. The bar is fairly quiet. There’s less than fifteen people in the whole place.

I march up to a sketchy looking table in the middle of the room and gingerly climb on top. I clap my hands as loud as I can. The men turn toward me.

“Attention, bar patrons! Who is going to fuck me? Any takers?”

The energy in the room is tense. The bartender smiles and slaps down a coaster.

“You need a drink. It’s on the lodge.”

It takes me a moment to react. I ease myself off the table and self-consciously pull up a seat.

“What’s your name?”

“Maeve.”

“Nice to meet you, Maeve. What’re you drinking?”

“Whiskey. Something expensive.”

“Breakfast of champions.”

He fixes two glasses of Pappy Van Winkle and puts one down in front of me. We clink. The other guests are too occupied with football and their newspapers to pay attention to us.

“Thanks,” I say. “What’s your name?”

“Chandler.”

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“Like Raymond.”

“Do you hate it when people say that?”

“Oh yeah.”

“I would too.” I throw back the rest of my drink. “Damn, that’s good.”

Chandler pours two more glasses.

“We save this for special occasions. And emergencies.”

“Which one is this?”

“A little bit of both.”

“Hmm. That sounds about right.”

We fall silent. I tear a cocktail napkin into tiny pieces.

“I don’t know how I’m going to face everyone. I’m mortified.”

“What happened? Or do you not want to talk about it?”

“I walked in on my fiancé blowing my twin brother right before the ceremony.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah.”

“I think you need a refill.”

“Keep em coming, cowboy.” I drink. “Where’s the bathroom in here?”

“I’ll show you, it’s kind of confusing.” Chandler wipes his hands on his jeans. “Hey, Beau, can you watch the bar?”

“Sure thing, kid.”

Chandler passes through the bar flap and helps me off the stool. I discreetly look him up and down. He’s lean and handsome in a healthy, fresh-faced way.

“Watch your step. The floorboards are uneven in the back.”

I take his arm. His bicep fills my hand.

“Thank you.”

The two of us walk down a long hallway and make a sharp turn. We can’t hear the TV anymore. I push Chandler against the wall and kiss him hard. He wraps his arms around me. Hoists me up. I hook my ankles behind his back. He feverishly kisses my heaving bosom.

“I want you so bad.”

I grip the back of his neck with both hands and stare him down.

“Just fucking ravish me.”

Chandler slams my back against the bathroom door. I gasp in ecstasy. My breasts spill out of my bustier. He tugs my white lace panties to the side and plunges his thick cock into my wet pussy.

We passionately make out while Chandler fucks the hell out of me. Our bodies make a steady thump thump against the wall. One shoe drops to the floor, then the other.

“Oh God, yes,” I moan. “I fucking love your cock.”

I hear someone try to stifle a cough. A burly guy wearing a jean jacket is leaning at the end of the corridor. Chandler doesn’t notice. I make eyes at him for a while, then I turn my attention back to the man inside me.

Chandler grips me harder, bites my shoulder. Another hand touches my face. The man kisses me. His beard tickles my skin. I grab his dick and jerk him hard.

The man holds me from behind and helps Chandler support my weight. He spits on his dick and carefully slides it in my ass. I reach back and lace my fingers behind his neck. My breasts bounce and fall out of my dress.

A third pair of lips brushes against mine. A fifth hand pinches and teases my nipples. Fingers with calluses and a wedding ring. I’m overwhelmed by sensation.

Chandler and the second man lower me to my feet. I sink wearily onto the tile floor. My voluminous skirt takes up the entire width of the hallway.

Chandler kneels over me and stuffs his cock in my mouth. I clutch his ass with both hands. The other men roughly grope and fondle me while I suck Chandler off.

I hear more footsteps. Someone rips my underwear to tatters but leaves my stockings and garters. Two sets of hands force my legs open. Someone crawls under my dress and devours me like a starving animal. I reach out and jack off two people at a time. Nothing exists besides the feeling of their skin on mine.

Chandler takes his dick out and pulls me into his lap. I straddle him, sit on his cock, and look up. The entire bar is standing around us. Chandler holds my face. Kisses me. I arch my back so they can get a good look.

Chandler fucks me slow and languorous. He traces his fingers down the center of my body. Stimulates my clitoris. Feels the weight of my breasts. He strokes my bottom lip with his thumb. I kiss the palm of his hand.

I open my eyes and watch the men watch me. I lick and suck my fingers, bite my lip, play with my breasts. Their fists moving up and down make a soft chuffing sound.

Bolts of lightning shoot through my vagina and explode like fireworks. My pussy throbs. My body stiffens. Chandler moves my hips up and down. I seize his wrists.

“Oh fuck, don’t stop, I’m cumming, I’m cumming…”

Chandler hits me so deep I feel him in my core. I have a wild, raucous orgasm. My vagina clenches around him. He climaxes. The men ejaculate on our bodies as we fuck each other senseless.

Sore and exhausted, I look around expectantly. None of the men can make eye contact with each other. Chandler is still inside me. He hugs my torso and lays his cheek on my chest.

“Okay, you guys can leave now.” I pause. “Bye! Go away, please! Scram!”

The men filter out, and Chandler starts to get up too. I pull him back by his shirt.

“Not so fast.”

Chandler grins and picks me up in one swoop. I feel light as air. He carries me over the threshold of the supply closet and closes the door behind us.