My Friend The Bride: A Lesbian Romance

by Nicolette Dane

  “What about Seth?” I murmured.

  “He doesn’t have to know,” said Emma simply, as if that was all it took.

  “Emma, I think you’re drunk,” I said. Emma pulled herself close into my body, gently grinding on me as we embraced. She was warm and inviting, her body thin but firm. I let my hands move around her backside and rest loosely on top of her butt.

  “A little,” she said. “But I’m too good at saying ‘no’ when totally sober. I’m much more inhibited and good. Really, I just want to say ‘yes’ and stop worrying about it for a little while.”

  And with that, Emma sweetly pressed her lips to my neck, kissing me, nuzzling her face against my skin, holding to me tightly. I couldn’t help but release a soft moan.

  “Why won’t you just admit that you’re a lesbian?” I said, my fingers sneaking into the back of her tank top and tracing over her flesh.

  “I’m not,” she said. “I just like you.”

  “You’re a lesbian,” I said. And with that, Emma ardently pressed her lips against mine, partly to shut me up but mostly to take our intimacy there in the cottage bedroom to the next level. I couldn’t stop myself, having held a romantic candle for my friend for a very long time, and I eagerly returned her kiss, the two of us standing there, arms wrapped around one another, tenderly kissing amid sounds of lusty wet lip smacks and gentle moans.

  “Mmm,” sighed Emma, pulling back from our kiss after a moment, slowly moving a stray tendril of hair out of her face with a slender finger. “Maybe I’m a little bit of a lesbian,” she admitted with a coy smile. “Just don’t… you know, question it anymore,” she said, trying to take my mind off of the realities. “It’s complicated.”

  I took a deep breath and got a wonderful aroma from Emma, a sweetness of suntan lotion and fresh water. It was dreamy and intoxicating. I looked into Emma’s deep brown eyes and they glimmered with possibility. She had just the faintest bit of redness from the sun under her eyes and on her nose.

  “What about the other girls?” I said. “They’ll know.”

  “Nobody will know,” said Emma, eager to convince me. “This is just our secret.” Emma began to paw at my lounge shorts, pulling at the elastic band, threading her fingertips inside. I could feel her fingers run over the waistband of my panties underneath.

  “You don’t think this is cheating on Seth?” I asked. I was so close to be convinced. I wanted nothing more in that moment than to undress with her and roll around on the bed. My body was intensely aroused, not just from the tenderness and touching, but from the idea that what we were certainly about to do was wrong. I never thought I’d be one of those people, but I could definitely relate to them as I stood there so close to my sexy, willing friend, throwing herself at me.

  “No,” said Emma matter-of-factly and then she kissed me again, groaning, pushing her body against mine. Her fingers slipped into the back of my panties now and traced over the top of my ass, while her thumbs remained outside of my shorts and slowly began to push them downwards.

  I joyful returned Emma’s affections, reveling in our half-drunken kiss, giving myself in to the moment. I knew we could get caught, possibly by any of the girls this weekend, and possibly later on by Seth, but I just didn’t care. The desirous part of my brain took over and it brought me back to all the sensual times Emma and I had shared in the past. It had certainly been a while since the two of us embraced like this, a handful of years actually, but this kiss brought it all back to life. I could feel the intensity inside of me building, yearning for more from my lusty bride-to-be best friend.

  Pushing my hands up inside of her tank top, I felt a coolness on my backside as Emma pulled my shorts and panties down over my ass. Moving her hands down, she ran a finger through the top of my crack, tickling me and causing me to squirm and giggle. Emma laughed along with me as our kiss naturally ended.

  “C’mon,” she said. “You can sleep in the big bed with me.”

  Emma slinked over toward the bed, pulling her tank top up over her head as she moved, crawling up into the sheets wearing only her shorts. I followed her, my own shorts hanging half off my ass, mounting the bed and moving up along side Emma. She turned around, now exposing her bare chest, her breasts small and buoyant, each dotted by a nipple no larger than a quarter.

  “Get those off,” she advised, reaching her hand down and giving my shorts a tug. I laughed somewhat bashfully, taking hold of the waistband of my shorts and pushing them down my thighs, my panties coming off with them. I took my shorts all the way down my legs and yanked them from my feet.

  “Might as well get this off too,” I said, pulling my own tank top off and throwing it to the floor. I now perched on the bed completely naked.

  “It’s been too long since I had this view,” mused Emma, looking up at me from where she lay on the bed, head against the pillows. With grinning enthusiasm, Emma pushed her own shorts and panties down her legs and once they reached her knees, I assisted her in fully removing them off her feet. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her body, tight and firm. Any kind of worry or anxiety about what this all meant flitted out of my mind, replaced only by lust for my friend and former lover.

  “I missed you,” I cooed softly, lowering down against her, our bodies colliding in an embrace. We returned to kissing, fingers moving all over each other as we made out, our bodies lightly sticking together with a mixture of light sweat and lotion from our afternoon sunbathing. I could feel mounting arousal within me, unable to keep my hands off of Emma, moaning softly against her lips.

  Emma slid her hand between her my thighs and started to gently massage me underneath. Her palm ran over the light fur of my mound, while her fingers traced tenderly over my slit. I could feel myself moistening with her touch, the subtle dripping feeling of the wetness inside of me sliding from my parted lips, Emma’s fingers opening me up with her ardent petting.

  “I haven’t been with any other women since you,” said Emma between our kisses, still lovingly manipulating the wet folds of my pussy.

  “I haven’t been with a man since freshman year of college,” I said, causing Emma to laugh. I sighed fondly as I melted into Emma’s touch, her fingers easily gliding through my lips now as the humidity between my thighs had grown with her methodical fondling.

  “I’m trying to remember what you taste like,” she mused. “If I had to guess,” she said, kissing me, lightly flicking my labia with her slippery fingers. “I’d say it was like a rose.”

  “I’ll take it,” I said. “Mmm, that feels really nice.” I lowered my head slightly and pressed my lips against her neck, kissing her supple skin, melting into her touch.

  “Can I try it?” she asked coyly. “To see if I remember correctly?”

  “Oh my God,” I said, squeezing my thighs against Emma’s hands and trembling. “Yes, please do.”

  Emma grinned at me and delicately removed her hand from between my legs. She brought her fingers up to her lips and took a taste, our eyes locked the entire time. I could feel my heart racing, my breath mounting. She brought herself up onto her knees and the two of us maneuvered around each other, Emma hanging over me as I laid down into the bed and took a deep breath.

  “You’re so pretty,” she said, looking down at me, her hand lightly grazing over my womanhood. “Let’s just keep this all a secret,” said Emma, almost as though she were talking to herself. “Just between us, nobody else.”

  “Okay,” I cooed. Although I certainly wanted more than just a hot tryst from my friend, I was also quite eager for what I knew she was about to do. “I won’t tell.”

  “Good,” she said, tenderly massaging my thigh as she slowly lowered herself closer to me. I widened myself out, spreading my legs to allow her the access that she was after. “Mmm, I love your cute little pussy,” said Emma. “It looks so familiar.” And then, with her face positioned above my middle, Emma slowly, cleanly, ran her tongue up my slit causing me to writhe and wiggle there in the sheets.

  “Oh E
mma,” I absentmindedly groaned, one of my hands snaking up into the pillows to hold on tightly.

  “Roses,” she said, deliberately licking me once again, her tongue pressing between my lips and lapping at my pinkness inside. “Floral.”

  “You shouldn’t be with Seth,” I reflexively murmured, disappearing into her loving licks. “You should be with me.”

  “I am with you,” said Emma, pressing her mouth against my clit and giving me a slow, gentle, moist kiss. “I’m with you right now.” Bringing a hand up, Emma began to prod at my pussy with a single finger, parting my lips softly, opening me up, easing her finger inside.

  “That’s really nice,” I called. “Don’t stop.”

  Emma went back and forth between licking and kissing, my undercarriage growing sopping with her attentions, her lips granting immense pleasure to my wanting clit. I could feel myself tightening on the inside, contracting, only to relax and loosen a moment later, my ass grinding down against the bed. I squirmed and wriggled happily, enjoying my friend’s pleasuring immensely.

  I gave in fully to the automations of my body, leaving all better judgment and inhibitions in the corner of my brain dedicated to responsibility. I just didn’t care anymore, dissolving into Emma’s sensual praise. Amid moans and sighs, I opened my mouth and spoke.

  “You should be marrying me,” I said, instantly regretting it. I brought a hand to my mouth and covered it. Emma raised her face up from my thighs, stopping her licking for a moment, and she simply grinned knowingly.

  “You’re so funny, Molly,” she said, lowering her face to my mound and planting a soft kiss on my pubic hair. “You’ve met my family,” said Emma, returning her tongue to my pussy, giving my slit adoring licks as she spoke. “You know I have to do this.”

  “Oh fuck,” I moaned, my upper half twisting as I pulled a pillow tightly against my chest. Emma focused her mouth on my clit, offering me slow, pressured suckles, while she pushed two fingers inside of my pussy and started to methodically penetrate me.

  “I love you, Molly,” said Emma. “You’re my best friend, you’re wonderful.” Her wet lips pushed soundly against my clit and slurped. “Mmm, but it’s complicated,” she said again.

  I felt the intensity inside of me begin to bubble over, Emma’s diligence between my legs paying off, and my hips started to reflexively buck upwards. With one hand on my belly, Emma kept her face firmly between my legs, kissing, licking, flicking with her tongue, her fingers thrusting inside of me, stretching me with fulfilling pressure.

  Burying my face into the pillow to stifle my moans, I called out in ecstasy as I felt that orgasmic electricity move in waves through my body, starting at my core and traveling outward. My legs squirmed, feet kicking, my arms wrapped tightly around the pillow, my eyes welling up with tears. Emma lazily licked at my clit, her eyes trained upwards as she watched me move through my orgasm.

  After a few moments of experiencing that voltaic pleasure course through my limbs, I felt Emma slide up the length of my body and fall down next to me, her arms taking me, pulling herself close, lovingly kissing me on the face and then the lips. My thighs felt humid and damp and my lower half randomly quivered with the errant aftershocks of my climatic spasming. I hugged tightly onto Emma.

  She kissed me softly on the lips and I could taste my own wetness. It did taste floral, almost like a rose.

  “Are you energized now?” said Emma with a giggle.

  “Mmm, yeah,” I said, blinking my eyes dramatically. “That sobered me up.”

  “Just in time to do me,” she said, kissing me again. I took a deep breath and steadied myself, a happy smile growing across my lips. This is what I wanted.

  *

  For the rest of the weekend trip, Emma and I couldn’t keep our hands off each other. Outwardly, it was more of a friendly teasing, a playful back and forth, or at least that’s how we hoped the rest of the bridal party took it. None of them knew about our past, as Emma was always intent on keeping the whole thing secret. As she had alluded to on that first night, her family was a bit strict in a religious sense. Although she herself wasn’t all that religious, gravitating more towards Buddhism than anything with her yoga practice, her family’s Catholicism permeated her life in ways that I couldn’t begin to understand having come from a much more religiously indifferent family.

  And Seth was a good Catholic guy. I really couldn’t compete with that in the eyes of Emma’s parents. They were slated to have a traditional Catholic wedding.

  Throughout that Saturday together with the girls, whenever Emma and I found ourselves alone we would sneak a kiss or a playful smack. I was in heaven. There was something so alluring about having to be secretive about it all, even though what I truly wanted was to be able to be open to everyone about what I had with Emma. Although I was liberated in my sexuality, happy and proud and relatively free, it was sometimes difficult to except that not everyone was so lucky.

  And that Saturday night we made love again. It was easy and fun. Just like old times. I knew it wasn’t something that could last, Emma was getting married in less than a week after all, but I resigned myself to simply enjoy what we had together on this weekend getaway. It was all I could do. Though my heart longed for it to be different.

  On the drive home to Chicago from the cottage bachelorette weekend, Emma gazed sleepily out of the passenger window, a smile across her face, her shimmering dark hair pulled up in messy bun. She was relaxed as we drove, happy, savoring the last moments of our trip together.

  We had been quiet for a while on the ride and all I could think about was what we had together. I needed more closure. I wanted to talk.

  “Emma,” I said softly. “Are you awake?” I looked over to her for a split second before returning my eyes to the road.

  “Hmm?” she said, turning her head the slightest amount and looking over to me. “I’m here. What’s up?”

  “Can we talk about what happened this weekend?” I asked.

  “Mmm, it was wonderful,” she said, reaching a hand over and gently stroking my bare thigh, my shorts riding high up as I drove.

  “Yeah,” I said. “It was. But… what now?”

  “Molly,” said Emma, leveling with me. “I’m getting married.”

  “But…” I said, searching for my words, trying to figure out what to say. “But, I mean, don’t you like being with me?”

  “I love it,” said Emma. “I love all of our time together, Molly. You’re super special to me.” Her face looked a little pained as she said this, as though she were figuring it all out inside of herself. “But we’ve had this conversation before.”

  She was right. We had had this conversation before.

  “Remember after that road trip up to Petoskey?” she said. “We had a lot of fun together, a lot of… you know.”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I remember.”

  “And I told you then,” she continued. “What I’m telling you now.”

  “It doesn’t have to be like this,” I said. “You could be open with your family.” Her pained smile returned as she gave a bit of a scoff and looked away, pining out of the window.

  “I know it seems all too easy for you,” said Emma. “Just try to understand that it’s not easy.”

  “Am I the only one who knows this about you?” I said.

  “Yes,” admitted Emma. “Well, look, I did mess around with some other girls in the far past, like in college, but none of them really know me anymore like you do,” she said with a sigh. “And I’ve kept this all under wraps since the last time you and I had our little thing. I’ve been faithful to Seth,” she said with resolve. “Up until this point.”

  “Don’t you feel trapped by this?” I asked. “I mean, don’t you want to be able to talk about this out in the open?”

  “Oh God,” said Emma. I could tell she was beginning to feel pressured. Her usual serene visage was changing into something more like sadness. “No Molly,” she said. “No, I don’t want to be able to talk about t
his. I’m fine.”

  I wasn’t sure how to feel after Emma spoke these words, but I felt saddened, I felt a bit selfish, and I felt lost. Just as I had remembered it all from those years ago when Emma and I had come together, I felt like I was desperately trying to convert someone I was infatuated with. Someone who was just playing, just experimenting. But I knew deep down that Emma wasn’t doing either. I knew she felt something for me. I knew she was just denying herself her true identity. It was almost maddening to me, but perhaps that was just the selfishness talking. I wanted her for myself.

  “I’m sorry,” I said finally. “I’m not trying to upset you.” Emma’s face washed over with her usual joy as the mood began to lighten. “I will forever be your maid of honor, your best friend, and support you, Emma.” I turned to her and smiled. “You know how much I love you.”

  “I love you, too, Molly,” she said, returning my smile.

  Inside, however, I was completely torn apart.

  *

  Things went on as normal in the passing week leading up to Emma’s wedding. Although Emma certainly acted as though our intimate time at the cottage happened, any indication that we’d talked about it was swept away. It was almost as though she were trying to separate the physical from the mental. What her body did and what she believed were divorced in a way. I guess that was just her physical manifestation of denial. But I can’t pretend to know what was going on in her head. She was entrenched in some dreamy wedding cloud cuckoo land.

  I had taken the Friday before Emma’s wedding off work, just as I had the previous Friday for her bachelorette party, so that the two of us could get primped and hit the spa together. The plan was to get the works, to spend the day together, and to relax before the performance that would be her wedding.