The Two-Night One-Night Wedding

by Ryan Ringbloom

  “Matthew, I don’t know what you’re doing, but whatever it is, we can’t. They’re coming to get me in less than twenty minutes.” I pick up a lip gloss and face the mirror, applying it with a shaky hand. He stands close, his half naked body pushing up against me. His hot skin touching mine. Horny is an understatement of what I’m feeling.

  “All I need is ten.” His arm slips around my waist and pulls me in. His thin scrub pants keep no secrets. I feel the poke. “You smell so good.” His nose sweeps over my neck, inhaling. “Make that five.”

  “I can’t,” I say, but my body responds in a completely different way. His fingertips trail over one of my exposed shoulders and my belly rolls all the way down, waking up the sleeping pink princess. I want to resist but… I can’t. Fuck it. His mother thinks I’m up here getting ready for a night out, and Matthew just worked a twelve-hour shift. I doubt she’d ever suspect us of sneaking a quick one in. “Five minutes,” I breathe, hiking the short black dress I have on up to my waist and shimmying out of my thong. By the time I hoist my bare ass up onto the vanity, Matthew is already waiting, dick in hand. I open my legs, more than ready to play, and he goes to slide in. But the positioning is off.

  He grabs hold of my backside and pulls me to the edge of the countertop, but the steam from the shower filling the room makes the marble countertop slippery, and it just doesn’t work. We can’t get our motions to sync for all the important body parts to line up and stay in place.

  “Up. Stand here. Face the mirror,” Matthew demands forcefully, and I go weak. God, I love it when he gets all alpha on me. I do as told and stand in front of him, my hands propped up against each side of the sink for balance. I wish I could watch as Matthew eases in from behind, but the mirror is already fogged from the steam of the shower.

  This time there is no problem syncing up. It’s quick, and the need for release builds inside of me right away. Usually I’d try to suppress the feeling, but there’s no time and I let myself go right for it.

  Fuck me faster. Right there. Yeeees, I say in my head, careful not to mutter a single word or groan a single groan as my body tightens and convulses around his thick, hard…. “Oh, God.” One tiny little whisper escapes me.

  Matthew thrusts harder, and my body crashes with more force into the vanity, knocking over a few things on the counter. Coming back to my senses, I see the bottle of perfume start to roll. I grab it quickly, grasping it tightly into my fist, saving us. If the bottle had dropped to the tile floor and shattered, it would have been a disaster. A pungent one.

  I wait for Matthew to finish, but his pelvis still pumps away. His exhaustion is probably helping him to hold out. My dress gets tugged and he searches for one of my breasts. I help by pulling down the top of my tank dress, bringing my bra down with it. He immediately takes hold of one breast, massaging as he continues to thrust. I close my eyes. It’s been way too long. Waaaay toooo loooong. A second orgasm is already building. Two for one. That’s fine. I’m going with it. We’re being quiet. Let’s do this.

  I raise my hands up, the perfume bottle still clutched safely, and lean back as best I can for Matthew to have full access to both of my exposed breasts. He grabs hold and uses them for leverage as his speed increases and he goes for the big finish. His grip is so tight but it feels so good. So fucking good. I begin to rock. I reach my free hand back and grab on to a lock of his thick hair and yank. Matthew releases a raspy, desperate moan that sends me over the edge. It’s not easy, but I manage to suppress any noises from escaping me and thrash my arms forward.

  Crack.

  We both come to an abrupt stop as we both stop coming.

  “What was that?” Matthew asks. I’m afraid to look but slowly bring my gaze up to the steamy mirror.

  “Is that a crack?” No. Please no. I start rubbing away the steam, hoping that I’m wrong. But I’m not. Right down the center of the bathroom mirror is a crack. The perfume bottle in my hand smacked into the mirror when I so cleverly kept silent yet thrashed. Fuck. How come the bottle didn’t break? Is this thing made of glass or stone? I should’ve just let it drop.

  “You broke the mirror?” Matthew searches for his glasses and wipes some of the fog from the lenses with his thumb.

  “No. No. Not me. We did. We broke it,” I say in a panic, rushing to put my bra and dress back into place. I’m not taking all the blame for this. “I saved the perfume bottle from breaking. You grabbed my boobs, and I was trying to be quiet. Fuck. Fuck, this is not happening. We never should have had sex. This is exactly why I said we needed to wait. Now your parents are gonna know we were having sex in the bathroom ten minutes before I’m supposed to hang out with your mother all night.”

  “Calm down.” Matthew adjusts his dark glasses, the only thing he has on. “It was an accident. There’s a million excuses we can give on how it broke. My parents will not automatically assume it was a sex-involved crime.”

  “Oh no, and now we have seven years’ bad luck.” I hug my arms over my chest and rock. “Just what every bride and groom buying a new house needs.”

  “That’s not true, that was just a scare tactic the Romans came up with. Mirrors weren’t cheap and they were made poorly and easily broken. In order to avoid negligence, they said that breaking a mirror would bring seven years of bad luck.”

  “Matthew, shush. I can’t get a lesson right now. I’m sorry.” I don’t mean to be a bitch, but mirror-related facts are just not gonna fly with me at the moment. “What are we gonna do? How are we gonna explain this?”

  Matthew, still naked, puts a finger to his lip. “This mirror is new. Less than a year, I think. They probably just got it from Home Depot.”

  “Really? Do you think they still have it in stock?” I ask hopefully. “And we can replace it without them knowing?”

  “Possibly. I’ll go out tomorrow and look,” Matthew offers.

  “Tomorrow? If we wait until tomorrow, then your mom will see it.” Even though it’s not a bathroom she often uses, Mrs. Daniels is a fanatic about cleaning and restocking supplies, especially with how frequently the girls are over. Wait. Maybe we can blame it on one of the girls. No. What’s wrong with me? I’m awful for even thinking it. Right? Right.

  “Holly, I’m so tired. All I want to do is go to bed. I promise I’ll wake up early tomorrow and go out first thing.”

  “Oh… okay, I know you’re tired,” I say with a shaky voice, my shoulders sinking with defeat. I scramble to think of a quicker resolution. “What if I make up an excuse to meet everyone later and go replace it myself real quick?”

  “Holly, stop, you’re overthinking it. My mom won’t care. I’ll tell her it was me.”

  I sniffle, fighting back the urge to cry. “I guess it doesn’t matter, your mom already doesn’t like me.”

  Matthew removes his glasses and hands them to me with an annoyed growl. He steps into the shower, sliding the door behind him. I watch silently as he adjusts the nozzles and jumps. “Cold.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask over the glass stall biting down on my thumb nail.

  “I’m taking a cold shower so I can wake myself up and go get that stupid ass new mirror.”

  “Really? Oh my God.” My shoulders relax. I’m being rescued by my knight in shining nakedness. I lean forward and press my puckered lips to the glass. “I love you so freaking much,” I say, and truly mean it with every fiber of my being.

  “You better,” he replies.

  BY THE TIME I get out of the shower, Holly is gone. I’m so tired that if I even so much as look at the pillow, I’m gonna fall asleep. Bathroom sex was amazing, but the consequences of rocking her world shattered the mirror. If I had three wishes, having someone take care of this for me would be all three.

  I towel off my hair and open the closet in search of clean jeans. None. At the bottom of the closet is an overflowing basket of dirty clothes. My mom offered to do the wash, but Holly insisted she could take care of it. She didn’t.

  I open the drawer, th
ankful for one clean pair of boxers, and slide into them before putting my filthy, disgusting scrubs back on. I give one last look of longing at my bed before trudging downstairs to put on a cup of coffee.

  “Hey.” I’m taken off guard by my dad in the downstairs hall wearing his dress khakis and a maroon button-down shirt. “Why are you so dressed up?” My mom is out for the night at Holly’s bachelorette party, so he can’t be going out with her. Kent, followed by Patrick, joins us in the hall, both of them dressed up way more than usual. What the hell?

  “Surprise, man!” Kent claps his hands together wickedly. “It’s your bachelor party.”

  “Yeah, we figured Holly was going out with the women, so we’d surprise you and take you out for a wild night on the town, too.” My father does a double-fisted hip-swing dance. “We can’t let the ladies have all the fun.”

  “Listen, I appreciate the gesture, really I do, but I’m exhausted. There’s no way I’m up for a night out. Besides, I told you guys I don’t need a bachelor party.”

  “Every man needs a bachelor party, and as far as being tired, I got a round of Firebombs set up in the kitchen to help give you wings.” Patrick chuckles at his Red Bull joke.

  “Really, I can’t. I have to run an errand.” And then I should probably start a wash. Dirty scrubs will only get me so far.

  “An errand at nine o’clock at night? Do it tomorrow.”

  “I can’t, it’s important. I promised Holly.”

  “All right, well, tell us what it is and we’ll take care of it while you go shower.” Patrick offers, assuming because I’m in my scrubs that I haven’t showered.

  “We.” No, don’t say we. “I broke something.”

  “That’s okay, Matty, don’t worry about it. Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.” My father waves it off. “Come, have one of those fire grenades. They’re good.”

  “Bombs,” Kent corrects. “For the record, Dad’s already had two.”

  “And I’m about to have a third.” My dad takes off toward the kitchen, khaki-covered hips still swinging.

  “Guys, this is really nice that you want to do this, but I’m just not up for it and I promised Holly I would take care of the mirror.”

  “Mirror?”

  “Yeah, the mirror in the bathroom cracked,” I say with a yawn.

  “Why does Holly give a shit about the mirror?” Kent holds up his hands, annoyed. “Is she the one who broke it? Who cares? Tell her you took the blame and that Mom and Dad are fine with it.”

  I wish it were that easy. “She’s weird when it comes to Mom, and there was an incident a couple weeks ago and now the mirror, and she thinks Mom is gonna know.”

  “What incident and know what?” Kent curls his nose up in disgust. “A sex incident? Did the mirror break from a sex incident? Why do you two seem to have so many incidents? Do you know how to have sex correctly?”

  My head hurts. Twelve hours of chaos in the ER, sex, the mirror, this bullshit from Kent. I raise my glasses and palm my eyes. “I’m so fucking tired.”

  “All right, all right. I got it. How about this?” Patrick jumps in. “Kent, you take Dad out for dinner and drinks, being he’s all hyped up, and meet Jeremy and Justin at the bar. They’re probably already there waiting. I’ll take care of the mirror situation, and Matty, you just go get a good night’s sleep. Sound good?”

  “Really? You have no idea how good that sounds.” I want to hug my brother, but I’m too tired to even do that. “You’ll hang it and get rid of the other one?”

  “Yup, I’ll make it so Mom and Dad will never know.” He pats my back. “We’ll do your bachelor party another night.”

  “No, this is all I need. A good night’s sleep and you taking care of the mirror is better than any party. You really are the best man, Pat. I’m glad it’s gonna be you standing up there next to me.”

  “I’m standing right here, fuckhead.” Kent jabs my upper arm. “I’m the one taking Dad out to meet your friends. I think I should get a little credit, too.”

  “Yes, sorry, you are both the best. The best brothers a man can ask for. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “Now can I please just go to bed?”

  “YOU WAIT OUT here. The rest of you come in.” Jayne pushes me out of the way and invites Ashley, Robin, and Mrs. Daniels inside her apartment. The door slams shut and I’m left alone in the hallway.

  Bile rises in my throat. This is a bad idea. I should’ve insisted on no bachelorette party.

  Alcohol, family, whatever Jayne has planned—I’m not sure it’s gonna be a good mix. I feel like I need a plan. What if I don’t drink? Can I pull that off? I can pretend. Sip slowly. Spit out a shot when no one’s looking. Ask the bartender to make my drinks nonalcoholic on the sly.

  Five minutes that seem like forever go by. What are they doing in there? I blow out a sigh and pace the hall. I send a text to Matthew, asking about the mirror, but I don’t receive a reply. He’s the worst at responding. Knowing him, he probably left his phone at home.

  “Okay, count to five slowly and come in.” Jayne opens the door, speaks fast, then shuts it.

  Crap. Here we go. I shove my phone in my bag and count five… four… three… two… one….

  “Surprise!”

  My head spins and I don’t know where to look first. With my mouth hanging open, my gaze finally lands on a large banner that reads: 1 Penis 4 Eva! The four women in the room are wearing glasses. Black-rimmed glasses with large penis noses built in. Jayne rushes over to me and clips a veil to my head. I reach up and pull it forward to see a pink plastic penis sewn into the white tulle.

  “You said no penises.” I cover my mouth with my hand and whisper angrily at Jayne.

  “Yes, and look at the banner, it says one penis forever. One.” She leans in so only I can hear her. “Grace thinks they’re hysterical, but Ashley was her usual bitch self about them.”

  “Grace?” I whisper back. I don’t even call her that.

  “Yeah, that’s what she told me to call her.” Jayne laughs, pulling me by the hand over to the couch. “Who’s ready for shots?” she bellows, and I nearly drop dead when Mrs. Daniels raises her hand.

  “I don’t ever drink, but tonight, watch out,” Robin says, pulling out a bottle of Fireball from her bag. “I’ve never tried this, but I know you and Matthew love it.”

  “What is Fireball?” Mrs. Daniels plays with the penis glasses, adjusting them as if they can help her see better. I want to laugh, but I don’t.

  “It’s cinnamon whisky.” Ashley picks up one of the perverted shot glasses Jayne got on a trip to Jamaica and reads out loud, “Ass, the other vagina.” She smirks. “Aw, that’s sweet.”

  “Splitting logs.” Jayne hollers a very private thing I shared with her as she pours. “Remember that, Holly?”

  “No,” I choke out, and shake my head, pretending I have no clue what she’s talking about.

  Mrs. Daniels’s glass gets filled. I watch in horror as she lifts it and reads. I don’t even want to know what that one says. How am I ever going to survive this night?

  New plan. Drink. Drink until I can’t think straight.

  All the shots are poured to the very top. Jayne lifts her shot glass, motioning for us to do the same.

  “To my best friend, Holly, who is marrying a fantastic guy she is madly in love with.” Her smile stretches under her long penis nose. “I love you dearly, and I am so excited to be your maid of honor.” She raises her glass high and winks at me. “Cheers to one penis for the rest of your life, girl!”

  “Cheers.” The large penises attached to the eyeglasses makes it hard for them to drink, and thankfully get removed. Everyone lifts their shot glass and downs the booze, including me.

  Robin chokes on the fiery liquid and coughs for about a full minute. “That burns like hell. How do you guys drink that?”

  “Just wait, in a few seconds you’re gonna feel why.” Jayne picks up the bottle and removes the cap.
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  “Oh, I think I already can.” Mrs. Daniels puts a hand up to her chest. “That’s nice. Warm.”

  “We’re just gonna pregame here for a little and then… hehehe.” Jayne gives a mischievous cackle, refilling all the glasses.

  “Then what?” I ask nervously.

  “Then you’ll see.” Jayne checks her phone. “Shit, they just pulled up. Quick, one penis forever!” she shouts, and throws back the next shot. Ashley and Robin follow suit.

  “Okay, I see what you mean. The second one is not as bad.” Robin licks her lips and brings the cup back up to her open mouth, shaking it for any remaining drops.

  “I am going to wait before I have another one,” Mrs. Daniels says politely, and Ashley wastes no time picking up her shot and doing it.

  “Me too, I’ll wait.” I offer my shot to Ashley.

  “Nope. The bride has to drink.” Ashley pushes my hand, urging the glass toward my lips. “Wait, actually, I have something for you.” She rifles through her bag and pulls out a blinged shot glass with the word Bride across it. “Use this one. I ordered it from Etsy.”

  “Ashley, I’m the one in charge of this party, not you. I have a special shot glass for Holly that I was waiting to give her. Put that away, she can use that at the shower if you want.” Jayne storms over and snatches the glass, shoving it back into Ashley’s purse. Only one of them is coming out alive tonight. Jayne reaches into her own bag and pulls out a string of beads with a shot glass attached. “Here, you need to wear this.” She puts it around my neck. I lift the glass and look at the design. It’s a penis with the words “I swallow” above it.

  “Jayne,” I grumble, closing my eyes in embarrassment.

  “You swallow alcohol.” She laughs. “Now come on, do the shot, they’re waiting.”

  “Who’s waiting?” I down the shot as I’m ushered toward the door. No one answers, and we all crowd in the elevator. “Where are we going?” Everyone still ignores me and exchanges knowing glances. I wait patiently, but only because the two shots I took start buzzing their way into my system. The elevator doors part, and a man in black pants and a white button-down greets us.