Who Doesn't Love an Open Bar by hunterhunting

Hey there bb! Here's a little o/s to celebrate your birthday. I feel so lucky to have met such a wonderful group of women, yourself clearly included in that group of awesomeness. I hope your year is full of impromptu coatroom sexin'
lovelove-Gin

Who Doesn't Love an Open Bar?

"I'm getting on the plane right now, yes . . . yes. I should be there in four hours, provided everything goes as planned. Well that's what you get for planning your wedding the same week as my conference." I laugh into the phone. "Yeah, okay. I'll call you when I land."

I touch the screen, ending the phone call while I hand over my boarding pass to the friendly and moderately attractive attendant. I am jet lagged from flying in from a Psychology conference I attended in Hawaii which I returned from last night. Today I am flying out of New York to Seattle so I can attend my younger brother, Emmett's wedding, of which I am the Best Man.

I've hardly done anything in this role, as I haven't actually been in close enough proximity to be able to perform the typical duties. Instead of tranferring the role to Emmett's close friend, Jasper, Emmett's fiance, Rosalie, has enlisted the help of her very organized and apparently very diligent friend Isabella.

For the past four months I have been corresponding with her through emails. At first they were sporadic, asking if I would be able to attend any of the planning parties. Isabella had offered up several weekends, but each one was taken up by some sort of seminar or conference. I felt horrible and eventually shared my calendar with her so she would understand how challenging it really was for me.

After that she started scheduling in the things I would need to do from my end into my calendar for me, telling me I could move them around if it was necessary, just as long as they were arranged by the deadlines--which she had put into the calendar for me as well. Her organization skills made me wonder if she was an educator or an event planner. She had a pleasant, and yet slightly formal, tone during all of her correspondence. Once in a while her sense of humour would appear; it was dry and sarcastic and never failed to make me smile at the screen and wonder if how the words would fall if it was her voice speaking them.

As the wedding drew closer, updates came more frequently. She arranged my tuxedo rental, asking for my measurements, and a week before the wedding she sent me a check list and asked that I mark all the things that still needed to be done. I was embarrassed to realize that I had missed more items than I cared to admit. I sent it back to her and received a chastising email in response with several items on the list crossed out with the words "completed by MoH" beside them.

I decided I needed to buy her a gift for all the trouble she had gone to for me. I spent a great deal of money on a lovely pair of earrings she could wear at the wedding. It was probably overkill, but I felt awful that she was going above and beyond the call of duty. Not only that but I've met Rosalie a couple of times and I'm well aware that she's a bit of a prima donna and being her Maid of Honour would require someone with infinite patience.

I board the plane and access my email while I wait for take off. Of course there is one from Isabella and I open it to find a full day itinerary for the day of the wedding, plus the details for the rehearsal party which will take place only two hours after I land.

Clearly the gods are not smiling on me today as there is an issue with the plane, and after sitting on the tarmac for and hour before we were to disembark we were made aware of issues with the engine of our plane, and thus had to wait for a replacement.

I text Emmett to let him know what is going on, but I can't be sure that he's going to get it, so I email Isabella as well to let her know that my flight is delayed. I give her my cell number so she can text me if it becomes necessary. She sends me a message no more than ten minutes later asking if they should delay the rehearsal or go ahead without me. I tell her I have no idea how long the flight will be delayed, but that I will text when we are taking off.

It's another two hours before I finally board another plane and I'm exhausted and irritated. I take a sedative so I can catch a few hours of sleep during the four hour flight. Thank God there are no layovers.

By the time I get to Seattle it's after ten. Once I've dropped my things off at the hotel I text Isabella to find out where everyone is.

The message I get is not the one I expect. At all.

We're looking at dicks right now. U can join us if u want;)

I'm not really sure how to respond since every other correspondence from Isabella has been politely professional, although friendly. Not thirty seconds later another one comes in:

sry--drinking :)--Call Emmett. I've emailed directions to where the guys are.

I don't even have time to reply before another text comes in.

But the offer to hang with girls still stands if u want;)

I text back, thanking her, and ignore the rest because I am unsure how to take the flirtatous texting. I call Emmett but his phone goes straight to voice mail. I check my email and look over the directions to the place Emmett and the rest of the groomsmen hava gone. I don't bother to shower, although I would like to. I change my clothes, though, and put some deodorant on before I call a cab.

Fifteen minutes later I find myself outside a raunchy strip club. Emmett's half in the bag and the rest of the groomsmen are a little more than wasted. I really hope tomorrow is not one of those weddings where everyone is puking. I also hope the girls are fairing better than the men.

I make Emmett drink some water and then order him a coke. I don't bother drinking because I'm too tired and one of us needs to keep things under control. It appears I am the only one with sense enough to do this as both Ben and Tyler, long time friends of Emmett's, have gone to procure private lap dances.

We leave the club just after two and head back to the hotel where I crash hard. I don't wake up until eleven because I've forgotten to set my alarm and we all have to rush to get ready for the wedding. The only reason I woke up at all was the text from Isabella informing me if we were late for the wedding she would be holding me personally responsible.

I can't help but wonder what she looked like. I imagine she must have a commanding presence, much like Rosalie.

We make it to the church with lots of time to spare, despite waking much later than anticipated, and are ushered into a room and given our respective duties by our mother and the entourage of other women enlisted to help with this event.

Finally all the guests are seated and I am given directions by my Aunt Maria as to how things will proceed from here, but I am having trouble following because she doesn't really seem to know what she's talking about--most likely because she is carrying a mostly empty flask in her purse.

"There you boys are," says a soft female voice and I turn my head in the direction it's coming from, hopeful that who ever it was is going to save me from Aunt Maria. "It's show time," she says, patting Aunt Maria on the hand and ushering her out of the room.

I watch her walk away, my mouth dry, my palms sweaty. Who ever that woman is, she's gorgeous. A moment later she comes back and gave me an amused smile. "You must be Edward, I'm Bella," she says.

"Isabella?" I ask, shocked, although I don't know why I expect her to be so much different than she actually is.

"Mmm, that's me, but I go by Bella--at least that's what my friends call me," she says as she reaches up to touch her hair but realizes she can't because it's been pulled back and up in an intricate style with half of it up and the other half down, all wavy and curly and soft looking. I stare at her fingers and then her hair, finally looking back at her face. She's pursing her lips like she's trying not to smile.

"So I'm assuming you have no idea what you're supposed to do, right?" she asks me, one side of her mouth curling up in a smile.

"Uh, not really," I say, a little beguiled by the slip of a woman standing before me.

"Just follow my lead," she says and slips her arm through mine, her hand wrapping around my forearm, her pinkie grazing the exposed skin of my wrist.

It's a completely innocent touch, as she leads me out of the room and into the hall, whispering quietly that I'm to walk down the aisle and stand to the left of Emmett. She slips a ring into my palm which I will give to Emmett to put on Rosalie when the time calls for it. I listen with rapt attention as she runs through what the ceremony will be like, when we will sit, and at the end I am to walk her down the aisle after Emmett and Rose.

I think I've got it all and she adjusts my boutonniere and my tie as though we are familiar with each other and have known each other personally, almost intimately, for some time rather than exchanging emails for four months about wedding details.

I don't even know how old she is or how she knows Rosalie.

"It's show time, handsome," she says and pats my arm, giving me a gentle nudge in the direction of the minister.

I walk down the aisle and take my place beside Emmett and watch the rest of the groomsmen file in. Bella is the first of the women down the aisle and I furtively check her out. The ice blue dress she is wearing accentuates her narrow waist and the flare of her hips. I try not to focus on her for too long because I don't want to get caught staring at her.

The ceremony passes quickly and soon I am passing over the ring, ready to move on to the photographs and then the reception so I can have a beer and maybe chat with Bella. I feel like I might just want to get to know her a little bit better. I watch her a little as Emmett and Rosalie say their vows. She's smiling softly the entire time and ocassionally she fidgets with her bouquet and Rosalie's, which she is holding for her.

Once Emmett kisses Rosalie, he takes her hand and walks her down the aisle, proud and clearly excited to be married. Bella and I are next to leave and I offer her my arm which she takes. She smiles at me and gives me a little wink as we make our way down the aisle and out into the main foyer.

The next hour is a blur of aunts, uncles, friends and family as I am hugged and kissed. My ass is squeezed by some cougar and I am chatted up by a woman who is old enough to be my grandmother. Finally the meet and greet is done and we all pile into the limo, heading to the butterfly conservatory for photographs. I manage to secure the seat beside Bella, and Emmett passes around champagne which we drink liberally as we are all quite thirsty.

My leg keeps brushing up against Bella's on the ride there, and from the position I'm sitting in, I can see down the front of her dress a bit. Her breasts are exceedingly tempting. I try not to stare at them while we're talking but I find it difficult, particularly when my champagne is refilled for the third time and I realize I haven't eaten since breakfast so my stomach is very, very empty. I'm feeling just a little intoxicated and it seems like Bella might be as well because she puts her hand on my thigh when she laughs at something Jasper says, who is sitting on the other side of me.

I look down, surprised, and I realize I'm actually starting to develop a bit of an erection. I'm glad the tuxedo jacket is long enough to cover my problem as Bella gives my leg a little pat and then removes her hand and smooths out the skirt of her dress.

Pictures are more fun than I could have imagined because Rosalie hires an eccentric photographer and we spend a great deal of time in lounge-like poses reminescent of a photoshoot in a Details magazine, or maybe one of those women's magazines such as Vanity Fair. There are several ocassions when I get to put my hands on Bella in what would be considered slightly inappropriate if it weren't for the sake of the pictures. I don't mind, though, and Bella seems to take it all in stride, not looking the least bit uncomfortable by the requests of the photographer.

We pile back into the limo and head to the reception. I'm looking forward to a meal and then maybe getting to know Bella a little better. The unfortunate part is that we are separated when we get to the head table as I'm sitting beside Emmett and Bella is sitting beside Rosalie. I have to wait until the meal is over and the speeches are finished before I am able to really talk to her again.

Of course, I luck out when they have the second dance because they request the wedding party on the dance floor and I take Bella's hand and lead her out onto the darkened floor.

"Are you having fun?" I ask her.

"Oh yes, most definitely, weddings are always fun, especially ones with an open bar. And you, are you having fun?" she asks in return.

She's definitely had a few cocktails with dinner, her cheeks are flushed and she's smiling and flirty as her inhibitions drop.

"So Emmett tells me you're a therapist of some kind," Bella says and I pull her just that little bit closer with the arm that is wrapped around her waist and hold her hand a little firmer in mine as I lead her aroud the floor.

"Is that what he said? I am a therapist, but I speak a large number of conferences, teaching rather than having a practice where people sit on my couch and I analyze them," I reply, hoping I don't sound too dry or boring. I love my profession, but at the same time, my habit of analyzing everything around me can make me seem clinical. I am hopeful that Bella isn't getting this kind of read on me.

"Oh, well that sounds interesting. It must be exciting, too. Emmett told me you just got back from Hawaii. That must have been nice," she says and the hand that is resting on my shoulder moves up a bit and touches the collar of my dress shirt. If she moved her fingers up another inch she would be touching my skin.

I don't dare pull her any closer or I will give away my obvious arousal that is currently straining against my pants because I am staring at her mouth as she talks and her lips are full and soft looking. Plus, I'm feeling the effects of the wine with dinner, and the atomsphere of the wedding is contagious. Bella is funny and interesting and sexy.

"What is it that you do?" I ask her, because I am curious and I want to keep her comfortable and talking.

"I'm a social worker. I usually work with low income families and at-risk youth," she says.

"That must be challenging," I reply, watching as she cocks her head slightly and smiles. It looks secretive and sweet.

I wish I would have tried to get to know her better over email. I don't have time to ask her more questions now because the song ends. Bella says she needs a drink and when I offer to get her one she insists she get it, offering to get me one as well. I agree, needing the liquid courage for some reason. Usually I am far more confident, but something about Bella is making me feel like a teenager with a crush. And I like it.

I go to the bathroom because I have had a lot to drink, and on my way back to the hall the blond woman who tried to feel me up earlier corners me. I look around for Bella, because this woman is a cougar of epic proportions. She's at least ten years my senior and while I don't necessarily have anything against older women, she's not really what I would consider attractive. First and foremost, she smells like a purfume covered ashtray. Secondly, she's wearing far too much makeup for anything other than a stage performance, and her dress is so tight it looks like it's cutting off the circulation to her thighs, which are barely covered.

"Hi Edward," she says to me and I can't believe she even remembers my name because I certainly can't remember hers. She's holding an unlit cigarette between her pink tipped fingers and she's pursing her lips. "I'm Tanya, a friend of Rose, well a friend of her mother's really, but Rose and I are close, too," she says. "I'm sure you were introduced to so many women earlier it must be impossible to keep us all straight."

It's such an odd thing to say and I know that she's going to start hitting on me any second, unless that was a come on. The smell of wine hits me and I realize this Tanya woman is quite inebriated. Excellent, this shouldn't be awkward and unpleasant at all.

I look around the room, hoping that someone is going to rescue me before another slow song starts up and I get dragged out onto the dance for with this woman whose hair is definitely not natural; it's an odd shade of reddish blond and the roots are brown. I am not fortunate enough to find someone to escape with and, sadly, another slow tempo begins.

"Oh I love this song, dance with me." She gives me a lurid smile and sticks her cigarette down the front of her dress, between her breasts. This is certainly not my idea of a good time, but I humour her because I don't want to be rude.

She wraps her hands around my neck and presses herself up against me. I can't help but search the room for Bella as inconspicuously as I can. I see Emmett talking to friends of the family and I swear I see him snicker at me. I want to kick his ass when he elbows Jasper and the two of them start laughing. Just as I begin to fear that Tanya may try to make out with me on the dance floor, seeing as she is currently attempting to dry hump my leg, Bella rescues me.

"Hey baby, I brought you your drink." She smiles up at me and then quirks an eyebrow at Tanya. "Thanks for keeping an eye on him for me," she says as she hands me my drink.

Bella must sense my discomfort and is trying to save me in the best way possible, by pretending that we are together, which I am definitely not opposed to. Tanya's hands fall from around my neck but she doesn't quite step away from me or let go completely.

"You don't mind if I cut back in do you?" Bella bats her eyelashes and keeps one hand on my arm. Tanya and Bella are staring each other down like bristling cats.

I'm surprised that Tanya doesn't sprout fangs and try to bite Bella's head off with the way she is looking at her. Not to mention that Bella has called me baby and is touching me, running her fingers up and down my arm in a rather intimate gesture.

"I didn't realize." Tanya clears her throat awkwardly, and steps away from me. "Thanks for the dance, tiger."

She gives me a parting wink before glaring icily at Bella.

Bella slips in to take her spot, sliding her hand up my chest and around the back of my neck. I can feel the cool hardness of the glass she is holding in her one hand pressed against my shoulder as the fingers of her other hand pull gently so that I bow my head toward hers. Her lips touch my ear and I pull her closer with my free hand, her body pressed tightly against mine. Is she doing this just to save me from Tanya, the frightening cougar?

"Is she still looking?" Bella asks in a voice that is only loud enough for me to hear.

I shift my gaze up and I can see Tanya is still standing there, a few feet away from us, chatting with another woman who is eyeing Bella with the same contempt.

"Yes, in fact I think she is currently plotting against you, planning an overthrow," I reply into her hair, my lips brushing the shell of her ear.

"Excellent," Bella says as her lips sweep along my jaw and then up until they are brushing against mine.

I can't be responsible for what I do next, simply because Bella nibbles lightly on my bottom lip, which is more than I expect. I take full advantage of the situation and slip my tongue into her mouth, and although I am quite sure that I am overstepping my boundaries, I just can't help it. Her mouth is sweet and soft and I want more of it. I brace myself for a slap across the face, but instead Bella's fingers on the back of my neck tighten and she opens her mouth to me. I eagarly deepen the kiss, our tongues tangling and sweeping against each other, slowly exploring. I'm getting a very serious erection.

Bella breaks the kiss first, and I am ready for some type of reaction but not the one I get. She gives me this devious half smile and turns her head a bit as Tanya stalks clumsily past us, lifting her cigarette from between her breasts and lighting it before she leaves the hall for the fresh air of the outdoors.

"That was effective." Bella tilts her head back and takes a deep swallow of her drink. It's coke and possibly rum, or maybe she's a vodka kind of woman.

I must be staring at her with quite the expression because she suddenly looks a little embarrassed. "I'm so sorry, I probably shouldn't have done that," she mutters, taking another sip of her drink before she looks away.

"Why not?" I ask because I feel like I would be willing to do that again, right away, and not because some cougar wants a piece of me.

"Well, I . . ." Bella begins but I lean forward and press my lips against hers again just to see if she would like the same thing I do. There is almost no resistance and soon her mouth is moving with mine, our bodies move slowly to the song and I forget that I am in a hall full of people and we are making out like teenagers in front of them.

"Woohoo, looks who's hooking up!" Emmett yells into my ear at the end of the song so that everyone around us can hear him.

Bella looks mortified and takes off with Rosalie who apparently needs to use the bathroom and requires help to do this. I watch Bella scurry away, her eyes on the ground. Damn Emmett, I hope he hasn't runined my chances with her, whatever chance I seemed to have.

He drags me outside and I smoke a cigar with him. We are gone for quite a while and when I come back inside, Bella is on the dance floor with Rose. I get pulled into conversations with my uncle and some out of town relatives who I haven't see since I finished my undergraduate, almost ten years ago.

It's some time later that I am finally free from conversation, and I look around for Bella and spot her sitting at a table with Alice, Jasper's long time girlfriend. Bella is chatting with her but she appears distracted. When she spots me she gives me a coy smile and a wink. I move across the room toward her, because I want to dance with her again and the DJ announces another slow song.

I lean down once I reach her and ask her if she would like to dance. I'm pleased when she gives me her hand and allows me to lead her to the floor. We dance slowly, bodies almost fused to each other, her forehead on my neck. I want to kiss her again. I want to do much more than that, but I definitely would like to start by kissing her.

When the music speeds up again, I offer to get Bella a drink and she nods and tells me what she wants, touching her lips with the tips of her fingers before she walks over to an empty table. We sit and watch as Tanya hits on a man her own age. He seems to find her trashy exterior pleasing and dances in what can only be described as trailerpark sexy to some classic rock wedding songs.

"I think I'd like to go," Bella says softly in my ear, her hand on my thigh, squeezing gently.

"You think . . ." I say quietly and then take in her expression as she licks her lips and I understand the significance of what she is saying. She wants to go home with me? Is this what she's saying?

"You're staying at the Hilton as well I assume?" she asks tentatively.

"Yes, I am," I say. "Shall I get your coat?"

"That would be wonderful. It's black with a red scarf in the sleeve." Bella leans in and kisses me on the cheek in a chaste manner, but the sexually charged atmosphere is impossible to ignore.

I hurry to find her coat in the darkened room that is no longer manned. Apparently we are to fend for ourselves at this hour of the night. I search for her coat, but it seems that all women wear black jackets to weddings and I am having a horrible time trying to locate it. I search for the light switch and just as I find it a hand covers mine. For one brief moment I fear it might be Tanya, and I worry that she may try and attack me while I am defenseless in a coat closet. But the fingers that wrap around my own are soft and the scent that accompanies the touch is easily identifiable and nothing like the raunchy smell of Trailer Tanya.

The hand covering mine slides up my arm and suddenly there is a small, lithe body pressed hard against me, fingers lacing behind my neck and a mouth I have felt before is on mine again. She pushes her soft, warm, wet tongue past my lips and lets out the quietest of whimpers as mine meets hers.

We are frantic hands and mouths as I search for the bottom of her dress and then give up when all I can feel are layers of fabric and crinolin. I slide my hands up instead and touch the soft swell of her breasts which causes her to moan into my mouth. I am already terribly hard, but now I ache with a the pressure. Bella's hands find their way along my sides and between our bodies until she is palming my erection through the fabric of my pants.

"Oh god," she moans and I am thinking the same thing. I wonder if this is as common as the myth implies, that people at weddings can't help but want to have sex because of all the emotion and romance floating in the air around them until they are nearly drunk with it--and the alcohol plays a factor I am sure.

Bella quickly undoes my belt and her fingers dip into my pants and my boxers until she finds my erection and takes hold of it. I can't contain the soft groan that comes out because what we are doing is terribly inappropriate, and at the same time I am excited at the prospect of something happening in here--whatever that may be. Sometimes I enjoy a bit of rebellious deviance.

"Touch me," Bella whispers in the dark room and pulls me further into the crowded space. The hangers rattle on the rods on either side of us until Bella is pressed against the back wall of the closet, holding my erection in one hand with her other palm flat on my ass.

I know that she is not simply asking me to touch through the material of her dress. Once again I search for the bottom of her skirt and push away the layers of material until I finally meet soft, smooth skin and then satiny fabric that is damp and hot. I slide my fingers along the edge of her panties, back and forth, teasing her and myself before I finally slip them under the material and touch the softest skin there is on her body.

She gasps and grips me tighter, the tip of my erection brushing against my shirt heightening the sensations. I circle the slick and swollen skin until she is panting and her hand is faltering on me. Then I slip two fingers inside her. She arches her back and her head hits the wall with a quiet thud.

"Edward," she whispers and she releases me from her tight grip and both of her hands wrap around my neck. "I want you in me," she says against my lips and I have no will to stop this. Four months of proper emails and one day of slight flirting amounts to more pent up desire than I can possibly attempt to tame. I don't even hesitate as I lift her up and pin her against the wall with my body.

"Beautiful as it is, I'll have you know I hate this dress," I tell her as I kiss her with more urgency than I mean to. The dress is making it impossible for me to arrange us in a way that is condusive for entering her because all of the fabric is bunched up and in the way. I have also failed to remove her underwear.

"Me too," she replies breathily, laughing quietly as she and I continue to battle against it.

I cup her bare ass in my hand and realize that she is wearing a thong, I yank forcefully on the back of it and it pulls easily away from her body. I don't drop it on the floor though; instead I crumple it up and stuff it awkwardly into the pocket of my pants as Bella struggles with the copious quantities of material that make up the skirt of her dress.

Finally, oh god finally, I can feel warm, wet skin along my shaft and then I am pushing in and it is hot and tight and there is moaning and panting and profanity.

"Oh my god, oh my . . . fuck me," Bella exhales the words into my mouth and I am more than happy to comply.

There is a low thud that repeats like a muffled knock on a door each time I pull out and thrust back into her, her body hitting the wall each time. The coats around us sway on the racks and Bella reaches out on either side and grabs onto the bars, causing coats to tumble to the ground around my feet. Her legs are wrapped tightly around my waist and her hips move to meet mine at every thrust.

I am acutely aware that we could get caught at anytime and this makes me that much harder along with the words, "So good, Edward, oh God, so good," which tumble from Bella's lips before hers are pressed against my neck.

This is not the easiest position to have sex in, and I remove one hand from her ass and brace myself against the wall as I attempt to lower us to the floor. We are laid out on a bed of coats, a fur one cushioning us on top of the mess. I move faster and harder in compliance to her breathless requests. Suddenly her arms and legs are tighter against me and she moans quietly.

"Edward, I'm . . ." she begins but never finishes as I kiss her and swallow her words, explicit and gorgeous as her body constricts around me.

When she relaxes, I begin a rapid, unyielding pace until I can feel the nearly painful tightness unleash itself inside her with one last crushing thrust. Bella cries out into my shoulder as she shudders and we lay there for only a moment before we are hurrying to right ourselves and our clothes in the darkness that our eyes have grown accustomed to.

"That was unexpected," I murmur as she touches her hair in the grey-black room, and I kiss her bare shoulder.

"Mmm, well, I like unexpected," Bella says and I can hear the smile in her voice rather than see it as she is not looking at me, but at the pile of coats on the floor.

Just then the door opens and in stumbles Tanya and the man she has been attempting to dance with. They are wrapped in each other and Bella gives me a sweet smile before she speaks. "Oh, there it is!" she exclaims and takes one step to the right, flicking on the light. "Oh my GOD!" Bella sounds genuinely shocked as she looks down at the mess we have made and I notice a wet mark on the fur coat on top of the pile.

"What the hell happened in here?" she asks, looking up at me and then over at Tanya and her friend who have just realized that there are other people in the room. Bella kneels down and shifts the coats around, plucking a black one from the pile.

"Here it is Edward." She smiles triumphantly. "It really looks like someone has been using the coatroom as a bedroom." She giggles and says excuse me as she side steps Tanya who looks very confused.

Bella grabs my hand and pulls me around them and as we are making our way down the hall we can hear Tanya's scream, "Someone came all over my fur coat."

"That would be me," Bella mutters quietly as we exit the reception hall and flag down a cab. "And just so you know Edward, I'm more than willing to cum for you again any time you'd like."