The Wedding Closet

Hey everyone, just another short fun story. As always, I want to thank the wonderful volunteer editors that help take my story to the next level. i hope you enjoy.

Mike had known David for years--they went to high school together, then college. And now, here he was: the Best Man at his best friend's wedding.

All day, she'd been coming and going, making sure everything was perfect. Tina--the mother of the groom--had always been that typical MILF: classy, curvy, and just a little too flirty. Mike had spent more than his fair share of time fantasizing about her.

The wedding was beautiful and emotional, but Mike barely remembered it. He couldn't stop looking at the stunning woman in the front row. The reception was a blur of noise, laughter, and booze--except for her. Every time she crossed the room, he found his eyes locked on her like a magnet. And when she looked back?God help him.

Eventually, Mike found himself standing alone by the coat closet, nursing a beer and zoning out to the beat of the music. He wasn't thinking about anything in particular--until a shift in the air made him glance up.

She was walking toward him.

Tina. Gliding across the dance floor like a hungry cougar zeroing in on her prey.

"Hey there, Mikey," she said, stepping in close.

"Hey there, Mrs. H... um, enjoying the reception?"

A sly smile curled across her face. "I'll be enjoying it a lot more once I get you in that closet." Her voice was low and husky, and her hand slid up his stomach, twisting his tie around her fingers.

Holy shit!

"Come on, Mikey--we don't have much time."

Mike's voice caught in his throat. His eyes went wide.

Is this really happening?

Then the closet door opened. Tina tugged his tie, pulling him toward the dark. He didn't resist--his body was already moving before his brain caught up.

They stepped in and he kicked the door shut behind them. The muffled thump of bass from the reception instantly dulled. The air was warm, thick with the scent of cedar and perfume. Coats brushed his arms, closing in around them.

She didn't hesitate. Her hands grabbed his face and their mouths collided--hot, desperate, full of years of tension.

Mike's hands dropped to the perfect round ass he'd fantasized about for years, and he squeezed hard. Tina ground her hips against him. The shock and heat of her body grinding against his, had him hard in seconds

"Is that for me?" she teased.

"Fuck yes it is," he growled in her ear.

He pressed her back against the wall, mouth trailing wet kisses down her neck and across the swell of her chest. He buried his face between her warm, soft breasts, breathing her in like she was oxygen.

"Oh fuck, Mikey," Tina dug her nails into his scalp.

He needed that damn dress gone--out of the way, off her body, now. His fingers scrambled at her back, searching for the zipper, trembling with excitement.

Then Tina's hand rested gently on his chest and pushed him back until his back hit the opposite wall. He froze, stunned, eyes wide.

The look on his face made her chuckle--half lust, half disbelief. He looked like he'd follow her off a cliff if she asked.

Cute she thought.Flustered, and always a little too polite.

It was something she had always liked about him, his eagerness to please.

Mike's mind was going a mile a minute.

Don't screw this up, don't screw this up...

"Listen close, Mikey. This is a one-time thing. Don't waste it." She raised her eyebrows at him, demanding his understanding.

"I... um... I definitely won't "

Tina reached behind her back and, with smooth precision, pulled her zipper down. The dress slid down her body and pooled around her ankles.

As he watches the dress fall, his mouth went dry.

"Holy shit, Mrs. H!"

Mike said, a touch too loud. Outside the closet, the Chicken Dance was playing loudly, so she wasn't too worried about it this time.

"First of all, keep your voice down, sweetheart," she scolded, playful but firm. "Secondly, I'm standing half-naked in front of you--Tina will do just fine."

Here she finally was: this, amazing MILF he had dreamt about for years, standing right in front of him, and all Mike could do was repeat, "Oh my fucking God."

My God, man, get yourself together. You are not a horny teenager!He snapped at himself.

"Mrs.--I mean Tina--you are so fucking gorgeous."

She just smiled at him and sank to her knees. Suddenly the closet felt too hot, too small. The coats brushed against his arms, bumping into him, clinging like a goddamn nuisance--so he shoved them out of the way. Some of the coats collapsing to the floor. The hangers rattled.

With the same finesse she'd used on her zipper, Tina undid his belt and pants, sliding them down his legs.

"You okay, honey?" she asked, trying to keep the giggle out of her voice.

"Yeah, I just--um... yeah, I'm fine."

You sound like a damn virgin!

His boxers were the next to fall.

Tina sat back on her heels, grinning like she already owned him. "Mmm... I knew you were a big boy." She tilted her head, examining him like a statue. Her breath brushed warm across his shaft, and it sent a shiver straight up his spine.

"I really wish we had more time," she said with a playful pout. Her lips hovered just for a second, her breath tickling the tip. Then, in almost one swift motion, her tongue dragged up the under side and she took him in her mouth--just about to the hilt.

"Oh fuck!" Mike all but shouted as the wet heat of her mouth surrounded him. He instantly regretted his outburst.

Tina gave his thigh a sharp slap and shot him a look that said -- shut the fuck up!

But all Mike could focus on was the sight of his cock disappearing into her mouth, inch by glorious inch.

Tina pulled back, swirling her tongue around the head of his cock, teasing the underside with a gentle flick. It drew a low groan from deep in his chest.

His hands slapped the wall behind him as she dove back in. Her throat flexed with a wet gag as he hit the back of her mouth. It took every ounce of willpower not to start thrusting into her.

Suddenly, voices drifted in from outside the closet--and both of them froze.

Tina stayed perfectly still, her mouth still stretched around him. Mike clutched at coats on either side of him, holding on for dear life--trying not to lose control or beg her to keep going.

Seconds passed like hours. The only sound was Mike's ragged breathing. Tina glanced up at him, watching him struggle to maintain control --and so gave her tongue a little wiggle.

Outside, "YMCA" was playing.

"Where the hell is Mike?" one voice asked.

"Knowing him, he's probably nailing one of the bridesmaids behind the kitchen. Let's go take a look."

Finally, the voices faded down the hallway, and YMCA continued to thump through the walls.

They hadn't moved, Mike's back still against the wall, and her mouth still wrapped around his cock. Her eyes locked on his, enjoying watching him squirm.

Mike let out a quiet, stunned laugh as she tried to glare up at him--but it was hard to take seriously with his cock still in her mouth.

That broke something in him. Not in a bad way--in the best way. The tension cracked--just slightly. Not just between them, but inside him.

He'd been overwhelmed. Breathless. Drowning in her. But now? Now he remembered who the hell he was.

Tina pulled back slowly, his cock slipping from her lips with a slick pop. A string of spit stretched and snapped between them.

She licked her lips and raised an eyebrow. "A bridesmaid?" she asked.

Then, smirking: "At your best friend's wedding?"

Mike didn't blink.

"A bridesmaid behind the kitchen?" he said. "Fuck that--I've got you in the closet."

Her eyes narrowed for half a beat. Sharp. Curious.

"Excuse me?" she said, with a smirk.

"You heard me. Stand the fuck up, Tina." he said--low, firm, and hungry.

"What is that suppo..?" she started, but he was already reaching for her.

He slid his hands under her arms, and lifted her with more strength and ease than she expected.

Tina inhaled sharply, caught off guard for just a second.

Before she could fully recover, he turned her around--gently but deliberately--until her back was against his chest, her body pressed flush against him.

His arms slid around her waist, hands gliding up the smooth skin of her stomach to the cups of her bra.

His breath was hot on her neck as he inhaled--deep and hungry--like he was trying to pull her scent straight into his lungs.

"Mine," he murmured, low and rough.

"Mikey..." she gasped. She could feel the thick, hard heat of him nestled between her ass cheeks, pulsing through the thin barrier of her thong.

His fingers traced the lace over her breasts, slow and deliberate, teasing the curve of her nipples through the fabric. He leaned in close, lips brushing her ear.

"This better not be the only time we do this," he growled.

Then he tugged the lace aside and filled his hands with her bare breasts, her nipples stiffening instantly beneath his touch.

He ground himself up and down between her cheeks, slow and firm. The contrast between her smooth skin and the rough texture of her thong made him hiss in her ear.

"You have no idea how long I've wanted this."

His tongue traced a line up her neck, and he caught her earlobe between his teeth.

"Oh fuck, Mike..." she panted, voice barely a whisper.

"I knew you wanted me... I've always known."

He didn't answer. One hand gripped her hip, pulling her back into him. The other slid up her spine to the middle of her back, applying pressure--bending her forward.

"Ah--"

The sound escaped her lips before she could stop it. Her hands caught the closet wall for balance as her ass pressed flush into him. Every nerve in her body was on fire.

"I'm going to fucking enjoy this," he whispered through clenched teeth.

Holy fuck, who is this?

Tina's brain short-circuited--this wasn't the Mikey she knew. But all she could do was moan... and give in.

Mike's hands moved slow and deliberate as he drank in the view. His fingers flexed, sinking into the soft curve of her ass--claiming it, one handful at a time.

Tina arched her back, pressing into him. Her hips rolled, not quite begging, but close. A soft, needy sound slipped from her lips--a plea her mouth hadn't put into words yet.

His fingers followed the path of her thong, gliding between her cheeks until he found the soaked crotch of her panties. He paused there, pressing just enough to feel her tremble. She whimpered.

Mike leaned in, his voice rough with desire but steady with purpose. "We're definitely doing this again," he said. "So I can really take my time with you."

It wasn't a question. It wasn't a suggestion.

It was a promise--and if she'd had breath to speak, she would've moaned yes.

"Holy shit, I want to taste you," he growled, fingers sliding along the soaked curve of her panties. Her body trembled as he pressed against her clit--just enough to make her gasp.

"Oh God, Mikey..." she moaned. "Please--"

She didn't finish the sentence. He pressed harder, and her hips bucked into his hand.

His hands gripped her hips, steadying her, holding her still.

Then one slid back down. He slipped two fingers under the edge of her thong--deep, slow, and deliberate--coating them in her arousal.

He pulled them free and brought them to his mouth. Inhaled. Then sucked the taste from his fingers with a low groan.

Tina shivered. She turned her head slightly, eyes wide, lips parted.

That look on his face--hungry, reverent--did something to her.

Something deep.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Next time, I'm not stopping there."

He yanked her thong aside.

"But right now, I need to be inside you."

She barely had time to breathe before she felt him--thick, hot, and pressing against her entrance. The pressure made her legs shake.

And then... he pushed in.

She sucked in a breath through her teeth, fingers splayed against the wall, as her body stretched around him.

"Fu--ck..." she whispered, voice breaking.

His grip tightened, and he sank deeper, pulling her hips back until they were flush--his pelvis meeting the curve of her ass with a wet slap.

Breaths. Groans. The rhythm of skin on skin.

"I want to feel you cum for me," he murmured, dragging her back against his chest. His hands slid up, cupping her breasts--filling his palms with her soft, perfect flesh once again. He groaned as her body arched into his touch.

"Touch yourself for me," he growled in her ear, one hand still kneading her breast while the other slid down to guide hers between her legs.

"Get yourself there for me."

His thrusts were slow and deliberate--more pressure than pace--but deep enough to make her gasp with every roll of his hips. Her hand moved furiously, fingers circling her clit, her body clenching around him.

Oh fuck. Oh fuck. He's so deep--he's fucking me--he's... oh my God...

Her legs shook as another thrust rocked her forward. Her fingers circled faster, hips pushing back against him on instinct.

"Mike--yes--fuck, right there..." she gasped. "Don't stop. I'm close."

He pushed her forward again, bending her to his will. Her free hand shot back out to catch the wall.

Mike slammed into her--deep, hard. Her body jerked. Her knees nearly buckled.

"You feel so fucking good, Tina," he groaned, his thrusts picking up speed--harder now--the slap of their bodies echoing off the closet walls.

"I'm gonna cum... fuck, you're so -- fuck--" his voice more of clenched growl.

"Fuckfuckfuck--yes--" she whimpered, her whole body seizing as the orgasm ripped through her. Her fingers worked her clit even faster, chasing every last wave.

And still, he was driving into her.

Mike groaned--low, guttural--his fingers digging hard into her hips. There was no holding back now. Her body was milking him, gripping with every retreat, sucking him back in like she wasn't ready to let go.

Her mouth hung open in a silent scream, her body trembling and overstimulated. Her legs gave out, but he held her firm--gripping her hips tight, fucking her through the aftershocks.

His rhythm faltered. One final thrust--deep, slamming home--and he lost it.

"Shit... fuuuck," he hissed through clenched teeth, his whole body tensing as he came. He pulsed inside her, and he stayed buried to the hilt, forehead pressed to her shoulder, fingers digging into her hips as his release spilled deep.

Tina gasped when she felt the warmth flood into her. Her head dropped forward, breath catching as another wave of pleasure rolled through her already wrecked body.

Neither of them moved.

Their bodies twitched against each other, breath coming in ragged pulls. The air between them was thick with sweat and the sharp scent of sex.

His hands loosened slightly on her hips, but he didn't pull away.

The silence was almost obscene.

"Jesus Christ, Mikey..." she finally breathed, voice wrecked and breathless.

He didn't let go--not yet. Just held her, still inside her, both of them trembling and spent.

Slowly, she found her footing again. He loosened his grip, and she stood upright with a shiver. His cock slipped out of her with a wet squelch that echoed in the quiet closet.

When she turned to face him, his cheeks were flushed, his shirt rumpled and hanging open, tie slung loose over his shoulder. She stepped in close and kissed him softly on the lips.

"Thanks, honey," she whispered, still smiling. "I really needed that."

Mike just stood there for a beat, flushed and still breathless, like he couldn't believe it had really happened--but he already wanted more.

"You needed that?" he said, breathless. "Fuck, I've needed that for ten years."

Tina chuckled and ran her fingers down his cheek.

"Oh, honey. I've seen that look on your face for years."

She turned away, adjusting her bra and panties, calm as ever. Mike just watched her--eyes still wide--as she bent down and stepped back into her dress like it was just another cocktail hour.

"Help me out?" she asked, turning her back to him.

He stepped forward, but instead of zipping her up right away, his arms slid around her waist. He leaned in, lips brushing her neck.

"Next time," he whispered, "I'm going to taste you."

A little laugh slipped from her. "You better," she said, wiggling her ass just enough to make him twitch.

Once she was zipped up and he was dressed--shirt tucked in, hair finger-combed back into something resembling order--they faced each other.

Tina stepped in close and reached for his tie. Her fingers were steady, unhurried, smoothing the knot and tugging it into place with practiced ease.

Mike met her eyes, and for a moment, neither of them looked away.

"So handsome," she said with a wink. Then, one last kiss--just a gentle brush of her lips on his cheek--and she slipped out of the closet like nothing had happened.

Mike stood there for a moment. Just breathing.

He reached up to adjust his tie--but quickly stopped himself. She'd just done that.

He wiped the sweat from his brow and gave himself a second to get it together.

Then he stepped out too.

The reception was still going strong--music thumping, guests dancing, drinks flowing. He kept his head down and made a beeline for the bar.

A few minutes, one cold beer, and zero coherent thoughts later, he grabbed another and stepped out onto the balcony to cool off.

And nearly dropped the bottle.

Tina stood there, arm in arm with Mr. H. Laughing. Looking radiant. Like she hadn't just been bent over in a closet.

"Ahh, Mike!" Mr. H called out with a big smile. "Good to see you, boy! Glad you could be here to celebrate with us!"

Mike opened his mouth. Nothing came out.

Tina didn't even blink--just sipped her wine, gave him a soft little smirk, and looked back out at the night.