[F]ollow up to Fucking the Best [M]an at My Daughter’s Wedding

**This is a follow up to my previous post** [[F]ucking the Best [M]an at My Daughter’s Wedding](https://www.reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d09ox2/fucking_the_best_man_at_my_daughters_wedding/)**, since there was enough polite interest. It carries from where things left off – I recommend reading it before going on to this one because I don’t want to repeat things again (sorry!) – but be warned that it’s not the steamy romp that my previous confessional was, though there was certain antics to be had on my part. Also, sorry about the lack of originality for the title, and the more factual tone of this piece, I’ve been a bit brain drained from work over the week. Also, longish ramble ahead.**

It didn’t take too long after Paul came for me to pass into exhausted sleep and I believe it was the same on his part. Little surprise, when I woke up nearly 3 hours later, I still felt crushed from lack of sleep as well as being worn out from the sex, but there was little choice since it just over an hour to 10 and my friends, who had been kind enough to volunteer with the after-wedding cleanup, were due to arrive. Paul also woke up as soon as I started moving and I sent him off to shower in anticipation of shooing him off before anyone arrived. Once he came out, I decided to have a talk with him about how things were going to be between us – usually I make these things clear beforehand, but everything Paul had been very spur-of-the-moment. I’m sure he was expecting something different, to judge from his slow response, but since my divorce I haven’t really been in the mood to have an invested relationship. I felt a little bad.

Unfortunately, I realized, a little late, that I should have given a more compact talk because someone decided to come over knocking, nearly a full half-hour early. Paul grins and says he’ll start working on the pool out back. I had to jerk some clothes on as quickly as I could, whilst a deep sense of dread in the pit of my stomach was telling me that Liz had come back to pick up something she forgot. Instead, I find it’s one of my friends, Jennifer. I’ll just call her Jen. I’m simultaneously relieved and annoyed – of all my friends, Jen is a notorious gossip monger, and you can be certain she had already noted that there was a car in the driveway that wasn’t mine. And probably because it was Jen and not someone else, I became terribly self-conscious that some of Paul’s dried-up ejaculate was still caking my inner thighs since I hadn’t showered yet.

Jen was instantly curious as to who had turned up, and since there was no point in hiding it, I pointed out that Paul had turned up to pick up Scott’s (Liz’s now-husband) jacket and decided to stay and lend a hand. The woman gives me this look, and I swear I can almost see the gears working in her head – Jen is the sort of person who will happily add saucy details if she thinks that the base is too dull (okay, never mind that I was actually guilty in this case). Don’t get me wrong, I don’t regret what happened with Paul, but its too soon after my daughter’s wedding for something like this to reach her ears, so if I do regret something, it’s just that.

Paul shows up, Jen beams and gives him two pecks on the cheek, and thankfully we start the process of cleaning up without further fuss. Other friends start to show up and things move at a faster pace, though it jabbed at me when another friend of mine idly chattered with Paul about his love life in the light of his friend’s marriage and how he should find someone to make happy. I’ve since come to learn that Paul is a terrible liar, so he always deflects things with humor, but at that time his “I don’t know about that” and “We’ll see” followed by nervous laughter seemed like a deer caught in a car’s headlights, causing me to silently will him not to look in my direction, which he thankfully did not, because for all of Jen’s flippancy, she never misses things like that.

By 2 pm, a lot of progress had been made, so I excused myself to go and have a shower. I do admit that it was a naughty thrill to keep a straight face and casual manner whilst with dried spunk on. Once I got out, I went to the kitchen to prepare some snacks and drinks for everyone. Paul came along as well to help, and I was dubiously pleased that Jen inserted herself in as well; it was kind of amusing to think that he might have been chagrined by the development because I’m sure helping in the kitchen wasn’t his only intention.

Just past 7, my home is restored to proper order with me silently vowing never to host another social event there ever again. Everyone starts to filter out, with a last round of congratulations on Liz’s wedding. Jen, however, had a vicious last card to play, because it seemed that thoughts had been boiling in her head all day. Paul took his leave, and I suppose I might have stared a little bit overlong at his departing figure.

“Are you sure there’s nothing happen Carol?” Jen grinned, appearing at my side seemingly out of nowhere my side, but looks at Paul’s car reversing in the driveway, clearly indicating what was on her mind.

“Christ, what are expecting Jen?” I tried to laugh it off, though I was becoming a little irritated. Jen (and some of my other friends) knows I’ve had a few on and offs since my marriage ended and it all made for good girl talk when we got around for drinks and such, and she’s always looking for juicy details. Its always been fun before, but I’m just starting to regret letting her in my confidence.

“There’s a hickey on you neck,” she says deadpan. It’s at times like this that I’m glad I’m not a teen or young adult anymore, and I was able to check the motion of reflexively jerking my hand to my neck or making some show of movement to indicate I wanted to check. Besides, I knew for a fact there was nothing, because I had been in front of the mirror after having a shower and I would have noticed.

“Uh huh,” I reply. She suddenly laughed. I knew she had been testing me all along.

“Hey, he was here early and he’s been glancing at you out the corner of his eyes all day long.” Of course. I hated Jen’s perception when it came to things like that. I also felt a little disappointed with Paul for that lack of self-control, but heck… Jen then proceeds to go on ranting speculation of what she thinks Paul’s good and bad points in really unlady-like detail and I can’t wait to be rid of her.

Jen leaves shortly thereafter and good riddance. And having brought her observations on Paul up, I’m horny. Bitch. Okay, that’s a touch harsh. But. Bitch.

Nearly 8, a text from Paul comes in, saying he thought it would be best if he left early since one of my friends (which I ~~strongly suspect~~ know is probably Jen) was being nosy. I chose to ignore it. You know, just to see what he’ll do. The next text comes in, asking if I’m okay. I don’t know why, but I was finding it all really funny, so I ignored it again. A longer stretch goes by and he’s asking if anything’s wrong. I was just finding it absolutely hilarious at that point. And also a touch cute. And also a bit mean, so I tell him everything’s fine. He promptly went silent.

Nine o’clock comes and goes. Ten o’clock. God, I was unbelievably horny by that point. It was also probably a mistake to lie down in the same bed we had screwed in just this morning to read a book. I had also made a friends with (occasional) benefits agreement with him just this morning, so it was just too soon. Admittedly, had we extra time that morning, we would have probably gone at it again.

Another text comes in. Paul is a real horndog, I smirked. It turned out to be a message from my service provider with ‘exciting new offers and services’. I carefully put the phone away to avoid throwing it.

A little while later, I got a call and saw that it was from Terrance, who was an old work colleague before I changed jobs. After my divorce, we started having flings on occasion as the mood struck us when time allowed. I felt it was a good chance to get distracted from Paul and scratch an itch. After catching up for a while, we agreed to meet at his apartment, so, after freshening up, I caught cab into town. Terrence had already prepared the place when I arrived, and we enjoyed some wine whilst catching up on what the other had been doing after receiving yet another (groan) congratulatory on Liz’s wedding.

Terrence is a stouter individual than Paul with body hair and little shorter, now in his late 40s. Not as good-looking either, his sandy hair is thinning, but he has warm features and expressive brows, which gives him a certain avuncular quality that puts most people at ease in his presence and he knows how to work a room. Moreover, he’s very good and clever with words, which is a quality I love about him. He also has a lecherous grin that I find, strangely, both repellent and arousing at the same time. After a few laughs, we get to his bedroom and undress, before Terrence turns off the harsher main lights.

We grope and play around for a little, getting a feel for each other before he mumbles that he wants to do the usual. It’s his little personal kink, which I find naughtily sexy, so I assent. Terrence goes to take a seat in a chair whilst I go on the bed. I spread my legs for him and start fingering myself whilst he watches and gets down to stroking his cock. We tease each other this way for a while, though I keep myself on the edge to save it up for when we fuck as Terrence has a lower endurance threshold.

Finally, he gets up and I’m quite ready to receive him. As he gets between my legs, he unrolls a condom, fixes his cock into the folds of my sex and shoves in one go. I have to breathe deeply for few seconds because though he’s not as long as Paul, he is a bit thicker. Once I had adjusted, I took my hands off his stomach to let him know I was ready. Pinning my wrists on both sides of my head, he starts to screw me. After a minute or two, my previous efforts at edging finally yielded a moaning, back-arching orgasm for me. A few minutes later, Terrence groaned, stabbing his hips spasmodically and emptied his load. He resumes thrusting for a bit longer before his cock became too flaccid to continue.

We lay down for a little while longer side by side and chat whilst we recover. Once I noticed it was past 11, I tell him I should go. He thanks me for the evening and give him a peck on the cheek. It’s nearly midnight when I get back and I’m glad to be in bed as the wear from the long day, the lack of sleep from the previous night, and the wine finally, and truly, hit me.

I woke up again at 2 in the morning feeling thirsty from the wine, so I went down to the fridge to get some water. Whilst enjoying the cool air of the open fridge and trying to figure out my plans for the following day, I spied my phone on the side of the kitchen counter where I had forgotten it before going to meet Terrence, and, for whatever reason, Paul comes to mind and I wince at the abrupt cut off that it must have seemed I pulled earlier. I checked the device and was glad (relieved?) to see there wasn’t a string of texts or missed calls, otherwise I would have really begun to reconsider things.

Okay, so, no laughing or smart ass remarks please. Feeling a little motherly, I decide to check up on him. I’m about to hit his number before I decided to use the house phone instead, just because I want to see how grumpy he is at being woken up and not be perky at seeing my number. I’m surprised when he picks up almost immediately (again), but his ‘hello’ is very factual and neutral, so I was satisfied he didn’t know who was calling. I was also a little secretly pleased that he sounded professional and not irritated or grouchy (as he probably had the right to be).

I thought about hanging up, but… anyway, it was nice to hear his voice, especially since Terrence’s own can be a little gravelly at times. I told him I hoped I wasn’t keeping him up again. After a quick chuckle, he said it was fine and that he was working on some things for his workplace. I was a little skeptical, but he sounded sincere and was even able to bore me a little with the details when I idly inquired. Finally, he asked the question I had been expecting at some point; if we could meet up again any time soon. I laughed and told him to go to sleep, to which he laughed back. Then there was silence for a bit.

“Good night Paul,” I told him sternly, and it was good that we were talking by phone so that he couldn’t see my grin. Or me being half naked for that matter. But he took it in good humor and gave me my good night, and I hung up.

I decided to put at least a full work week between us, so just before I went to bed, I texted him the word ‘Saturday’, just to give him 11 days of distraction. I’ll admit that possibly because I was looking forward to it myself, and probably because I had a vicious little devil perched on my shoulder at that moment, I sent a short add on: “No masturbation until then.” I waited for a reply, but nothing came, so I went to sleep, evilly pleased.

And… that’s all for now, I’m afraid. I’ll have to see what happens later today.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d10pab/follow_up_to_fucking_the_best_man_at_my_daughters