Mother of the Groom Gets the Best Man

Boy oh boy! He really was the Best Man

My Mother of the Groom duties, such as they were, had mainly come to an end as the dance got into full swing, and took Mark back to our suite and set him up. What a day, and thank god it was soon over, I thought surveying the happy crowd. But when John, my son’s Best Man, asked me to dance, I thought, what the hell?

I’d known John since he was a young teenager but hadn’t seen much of him since he and my son went off to college seven years before. John and Eric were inseparable as boys and roommates in university, but went off in different directions after graduating.

John was like a second son. Always a sweet boy, I felt a particular fondness for him because his braces, bad skin, and the nerdy hobbies he shared with Eric made him exceedingly awkward. And I knew his life wasn’t too easy for him in high school.

To see him now in his tux, clear skin, and perfect smile, you’d never know the boy he was for the man he’d become. I also knew he’d asked me to dance because Mark couldn’t. There’s the sweet Jonathon I remembered, I smiled.

When the boys were young we’d host the best parties. I’d drag John and Eric out with me onto the dance floor and keep them there for a dance or two, much to their horror and my great amusement!

Boy, those were the days!

That was when Mark could still walk. God, he’d make me so horny when we danced. He knew he was always in for a good fuck after the party because of it too, but we hadn’t done that in years either.

I missed it.

We hadn’t done anything in years, and I’d almost forgotten how I used to respond to him on the dance floor. Jesus, he’d get me hot, but that was a lifetime of shitty adult diapers ago now.

Watching John dance, it was almost as if I didn’t know him. He was so smooth and sexy as he gyrated to the music he was a different person. When he held me mom-close during a slow dance, I pulled him a little closer than I maybe should have, but I couldn’t help it. I’d grown horny after a few songs and desperately needed something. I was planning on abusing my toys, but when I drew him in, I knew they wouldn’t work tonight. I needed more.

“Where did you learn to dance so well, Jonathon?” I asked with a motherly smile, trying to cover my desire.

“You taught me.” He answered quietly, staring into my eyes.

I padded softly down the hotel corridor and stood before John’s room. I willed my hand to rise and knock with butterflies in my stomach. I didn’t know what I was in for, but I knew I was down for just about anything at that point.

At my knock, John answered, already in a state of undress. I could see his hairy chest from beneath his unbuttoned shirt. His bow tie hung loosely from his collar, now undone. I looked into his deep brown eyes, longing to run my fingers through his dark, curly hair — whether my brain meant on his head or his chest, I didn’t know — and smiled shyly.

What am I, some 18-year-old virgin? I wondered to myself with frustration, but John didn’t seem to mind. He smiled back, confidently, and took my hand. Electricity zoomed up my arm at his warm touch, and I let myself be drawn into the room. He led me to the bed and stepped forward toward me. I stepped back until my calves hit the edge of the bed.

John raised his hands and stroked my shoulders, his fingers finding their way under the straps of my green dress. He rubbed my arms and then raised one hand to the back of my neck, pulling my face in for a passionate kiss. His other hand roamed my body, making my nipples taut under the satin fabric. He rubbed them through the dress, teasing and lightly pinching them. I let out a moan against his mouth, my legs going weak.

“You’re so sexy…I couldn’t keep my eyes off of you all day. I love the way your hips sway as you walk.” Who was this boy and when did he learn how to light my pussy on fire? I was melting before him.

He gently put me down on the bed, with my legs hanging over the edge. He knelt in front of me and slowly slid my panties down my legs. I wanted to stop him, but it felt so good to be touched I didn’t say a word. Pushing himself between my legs, he turned the skirt of my dress so the thigh-high gap exposed my now-soaked pussy. Smiling up at me, he plunged his face into my depths as I opened myself to him.

“Thank you,” I whimpered, “I haven’t had a man do that in years…”

His tongue wrapped around my clit and wriggled there a few times as I gasped for breath before finding its way into my pussy. I was so wet, and he lapped up my juices while he ate me out like a man back from the desert.

“You taste so good…fuck…” He moaned coming up for air once again. Boy could he hold his breath?!

I arched my back and felt the heat spreading from between my legs through my body. Just as he was edging me towards an orgasm, he stopped and abruptly stood up.

“No, please, don’t stop!” I whined, desperate to orgasm now that he’d brought me so close.

He pulled my pussy closer to the edge of the bed and held my legs high by the ankles with one powerful hand, and with my eyes closed so near-ecstasy I could cry, I heard his zipper. Thank fucking god! I thought.

John mounted me, sliding his shaft all the way into me, up to the base in one easy stroke. My pussy was so ready for him he could have done the same thing on the dancefloor.

We rocked our own special rhythm as he penetrated me with his bare cock, thrusting harder and faster as we both neared that apex of pleasure we sought. It felt like forever, it felt like a moment before his cock pulsed, and his grunts became louder. Letting out a low groan, his orgasm flooded me. As he continued to thrust through his ecstasy, the sounds of him were unbearable, and I came in an instant. Throwing my head back, I let out a breathy moan, and John collapsed on top of me, folding his arms around me as he did.

I was in heaven.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited to do that, Mrs. C.” He whispered in my ear before his lips found mine again.

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