Knocking Boots

by Willow Winters

  Ali beams, following Monique to an area behind a heavy pink brocade curtain and leaving us alone. The second, Ali’s gone I catch Lindsay looking at me, then she rolls her eyes and leans over to whisper to Sam. My body temperature drops as I look at Ellie, who gives me a sympathetic smile.

  “I don’t know much about wedding dress shopping,” I say, fumbling for something to break the ice.

  “Oh, me neither. My sister came here for her wedding dress, though,” Ellie talks to me easily. She runs her hand over her dark hair, which is up in a messy bun. “It’s nice. Monique is something else.”

  “Yes this place is beautiful,” I agree.

  A door opens on the far side of the room, and an older man comes in with a tray of glasses and a bottle of champagne. Oh, thank goodness. He doesn’t say much other than polite necessities. He simply pours the champagne into flutes and passes them out.

  “Thank you,” I tell him, accepting the champagne gratefully. It’s sweet, and the bubbles tickle my tongue.

  “Mmmm,” Ellie says. “Thank God for alcohol.”

  “Yes, I was looking forward to this,” I say with a shrug to make my words seem casual. “So how do you know Ali?”

  “Ali was my roommate during our first couple of years of college,” Ellie says.

  “Ahh. I was wondering how you knew each other.”

  Ellie smiles and sips her champagne. Before I'm forced to think of something else to say, Ali makes her first appearance.

  She’s stunning, wearing a silky number that has a strappy back, a simple front, and clings to her hips. Oh my goodness. She’s a sight to see.

  “Oooh, champagne!” she says, rushing to pick up her glass from where Marcus left the tray.

  Her sip of champagne comes first and then she makes her way to the mirror, the dress gliding flawlessly. Without even standing on the pedestal, she pans the dress.

  “Mmmm, no,” she says. “Monique is bringing more options. I just can’t see meeting at the altar in this... the straps remind me of like… bondage.”

  I laugh, a soft feminine laugh. “If you say so. I think you look beautiful.”

  “It’s beautiful,” Lindsay says. “Bondage or not.”

  Ali sweeps over to the ottoman, perching beside me.

  “I know all about these bitches,” she says, leaning closer to me. “But nothing about you, Grace. Tell me about yourself.”

  “What do you want to know?” The small bit of tension that left with Ali’s joke comes back full force.

  “I don’t know. Where did you grow up?”

  “Here. I’m an Atlanta baby.”

  “And your family? Big, small?” She asks another easy question.

  “Small family. It’s just myself and my younger sister, besides my mom.”

  “Did you go to college?” Ellie asks.

  “I did. I went to Brenau University for one year, then I finished my degree at Rhode Island School of Design. I’m a graphic designer now.”

  “You went to RISD?” Lindsay questions from across the room, disbelieving.

  “Yeah?” I answer, uncertain. “I studied watercolor and oil painting along with graphic design.”

  “I went to Savannah College of Art and Design,” she says. “I’m an interior designer.”

  “Oh! That’s really cool,” I say. Small world.

  “She’s also Charlie’s ex-girlfriend,” Sam announces, crossing her arms and one perfectly penciled eyebrow lifting.

  Ali laughs in a way that shuts down Sam’s comment. “No, she wanted to be Charlie’s girlfriend. There’s a huge difference.”

  I bite my lip, I am really not into this ex-girlfriend, current girlfriend animosity. Ali doesn’t seem to catch on to it. Which is good, since this is her day. Marcus was my hero before, this time it’s Monique. She pokes her head in to call Ali back. “Alianna, my dear. I have three more dresses for you to try on.”

  “I’ll be back,” Ali says, winking to me. “Try not to get into any catfights.” The last comment is directed at Lindsay. Maybe Ali did catch on to it.

  Without Ali here, the air is somewhat different. Although Ellie asks Sam about some promotion she was wanting to get. Sam didn’t hear back yet, but I tell her I hope she gets it. It’s only small talk, polite and fairly easy. I don’t make eye contact with Charlie’s supposed ex though.

  It’s far too long before Ali makes her way back to us in a new gown, and I deliberately don’t look up. I’ll just sip my champagne, smile and ooh and ahh when I’m supposed to. Or at least I’ll try to.

  Ali’s hips sway as she walks to the mirror. This one is pretty, but not as formal as the other one. It's sleeveless, dark cream lace with a cutout in the back. Ali’s face falls when she sees her reflection in the mirror.

  Ali makes her way to the pedestal, turning this way and that. She faces us again. “What do you think?”

  “Pretty,” Sam pipes up.

  “Yeah, pretty,” Ellie says, nodding her head as her eyes travel up and down the gown.

  “Not pretty enough, though,” Lindsay admits. Ali nods, subtly, but still looks to me for my opinion.

  “I think I agree,” I say. “But it is pretty,” I add with a peppy voice just in case she likes it and I was wrong about the facial cues.

  “Yeah,” Ali agrees, shoulders slumping. “All right. Cheer me up with some more details about yourself. Tell us how you met Charlie.”

  “Oh, yeah!” Ellie says. “How’d you meet that hunk of man candy?” Her question forces a grin on my face. When the other girls look at her funny, she shrugs. “What? I can’t think that Ali’s brother is hot?”

  The room fills with snickers.

  “Okay,” I say, returning my attention back to Ali. “Charlie and I met because my friend Diane told me about his bar. She took me there for a drink, and one thing led to another…”

  I leave it open-ended, hoping that their imaginations will be better than mine.

  “When are you going to officially be his girlfriend?” Lindsay asks pointedly.

  Her question is like a bucket of ice water to the face and I’m sure my expression reflects that. I’m quick to fix it, smiling back at her and shrugging. Before I can manage a response, Ali steps in.

  “Charlie said she was. So she is.”

  “Did he?” her friend questions and even if this conversation wasn’t about me, my jaw would still hit the floor. Why would she ruin her friend’s big day?

  “Jesus, Lindsay,” Ali says, getting up. “You really are no fun when it comes to Charlie, you know that?”

  “Sorry,” Lindsay mumbles and to her credit she does appear remorseful.

  With a disapproving look and a huff, Ali disappears into the changing room again before I have to answer. I should try for diplomacy with Lindsay. After all, I’m the one who’s full of crap. I know Charlie doesn’t want me to really be his girlfriend. If I wasn’t in the way, Lindsay could be putting the moves on Charlie. She could be winning his heart, for all I know.

  The idea of the pretty little blonde with big handsome Charlie makes me nauseated, but I choke it down, and wash the bad taste out of my mouth with another gulp of champagne. I’m going to play nice with Lindsay.

  “I just started dating Charlie,” I tell her waving off the tension. “It’s barely even a thing.”

  “Yeah?” she says, looking surprised.

  “Yeah, totally. Like, we haven’t had any talk about exclusivity or babies or marriage. We’ve only just started seeing each other.” I bite my tongue as soon as I say that. Charlie probably won’t appreciate that I've given Lindsay license to kill where he’s concerned. It’s true though. What’s the saying? The truth hurts.

  Another gulp of champagne it is.

  “Wow. Well… okay,” she says, some of her gloom lifting. Although she’s now smiling, my heart hurts and I wish I hadn’t said that. But I can’t take it back now.

  I should have said, I really like him and he really likes me. And left it at that.

&nbs
p; When Ali arrives again, she makes an entrance. The way she looks in the third dress knocks the breath right out of me. The dress is pure white, with delicate lace straps, lacy cups, and a full skirt. She turns, and the back has a row of tiny white buttons.

  There’s a collective gasp in the room. She climbs up on the pedestal, straightening her skirts and looks at us in the mirror.

  “Y’all,” she takes a minute to sway and then says, “I think I found my dress.”

  “Yay!” Ellie and I clap in unison.

  “That is definitely the one,” Lindsay affirms, her expression finally resembling happiness for her friend.

  “No kidding,” Sam says, getting misty-eyed. “You're a gorgeous bride.”

  “And look!” Ali says, pulling up her skirts to reveal a pair of cowboy boots. “We’re all going to wear these under our dresses.” I can’t help but smile. “Cute, don’t you think?” she asks.

  “Definitely,” Sam nods in agreement.

  “You and Charlie can knock boots. Literally,” Ali says devilishly.

  I blush. “Yeah… maybe.”

  I laugh, and the other girls smile. Marcus appears to refill our champagne glasses, and I absently empty my glass before he gets to mine, wondering what Charlie would say to that.

  Charlie

  “So your sister’s friend Lindsay has the hots for you,” Grace lowers her voice to tell me something I already know, leaning against the bar top and taking a small swig of beer. It’s late. Really late for her to be out, but I’m glad she’s still here. The bar’s nearly empty, and closing time is minutes away. Maggie and the others have already left. The drone of the television and one other person are the only things accompanying us. I can’t wait to get her alone. Mickey needs to take the hint and get the fuck out of here, but he always stays till I close. I get why he doesn’t want to leave though, and so I’m not going to kick him out. He just doesn’t want to go home where he’s going to be alone and miss his wife.

  “Oh she does?” I tease Grace with an asymmetric grin. “I don’t really care; I’ve got the hots for you.” I almost said only for you, but I’m careful with my words. I want Grace, but I don’t want to lead her on. She’s made it clear what she wants. I respect that, but I’m a little too addicted to her writhing under me to let her go just yet. Besides the wedding’s only a couple of days away. She’s all mine till then.

  She holds my gaze as she tips her beer back. The baby blues looking for something more from me.

  “Come on sweetheart, tell me you’ve got the hots for me.” As I flirt with her, Mickey gets up from his seat and yells out, “Alright, I’m gone.” He grabs the remote as if he’s at a friend’s house, turns off the TV, and tosses it onto the table where it belongs as he walks out.

  “Drive safe,” I call out to him, leaving my spot at the bar to follow him out and he turns around stopping me with a gesture. He glances at Grace behind me and gives me a look.

  “You two have a good night.”

  A smile curves my lips up as I follow him to the door and open it for him.

  The second I lock the door I turn around to see a heat in Grace’s gaze. My dick's already hardening watching the way she shifts shyly on the barstool. I love the blush on her. It’s only for me.

  “Last time I had you in the back room,” I lower my voice as I stalk my way to her. “This time I want you on the bar top.” Her eyes widen, and her breath hitches, her chest rising higher and falling with her heavy intakes.

  “Right here?” she asks, splaying her hands across the bar behind her without breaking our gaze. The way she leans back makes her breasts push forward. She’s doing it on purpose and I love it.

  “Right fucking there. So every day I come in here I can remember how your back bowed as I fucked you on my bar,” I breathe the words into the crook of her neck.

  I let my fingers trail down her sides, watching as goosebumps form down her arms. She’s so responsive. I leave an open-mouth kiss just behind her ear, on that sensitive part of her neck and she moans softly in response, almost a whimper.

  My fingers dig into the dip in her waist and I wait for her to open her eyes. When she does, her baby blues shine with lust. “Get your ass up here and get naked for me.”

  There isn’t a second that she hesitates. She moves the second I give her the command. She turns her lush ass to me, crawling onto the bar top. The lighting is dim in the bar and this far back, no one will be able to see what we’re doing from the front windows.

  But I’ll know. I’ll remember how I had her, long after she’s gone.

  I’m eager to pull my shirt off and get back to my view of Grace slipping the sleeves of her shirt down her shoulders and stripping out of her clothes as quickly as she can. She’s eager too, maybe more so.

  My jeans fall into a puddle on the floor and I push my boxers down and step out of them, standing in front of her naked and hard as a fucking rock.

  A shuddering breath leaves her as she pushes her clothes off the bar, sitting on her bare ass with her knees bent and her feet on the bar. Her breathing comes in deep as she finds my eyes and licks her lips.

  We’re both bared to each other, in the same spot we first met. I knew then that I wanted her, but I never thought it’d happen.

  A grin stretches across my face at the realization that it really is happening after all.

  “Lie down, sweetheart.” I climb up on the bar, using the stool as a step and spread her legs. A gentle push on her inner thighs is all I need to get access to her glistening pussy. Fuck. She’s so wet. I can’t help but to pick her ass up with both hands and tilt her hips so I can easily take a languid lick. A sweet merciful sound is uttered from her lips and it fuels me on.

  My blunt nails dig into her flesh as she writhes on the bar. I smile into her heat, tasting her sweetness and feeling conflicted on whether I should get her off this way, or just fuck her hard and rough like I want.

  I let go of her with my right hand, to push two fingers into her tight pussy and feel how ready she is. I know I’m a little bigger than she’s used to, and I don’t want to hurt her.

  But I don’t want to wait either.

  Her sweet moan accompanies her back arching as I curve my fingers and stroke her G-spot. My dick twitches, and a strangled groan vibrates up through my chest. It takes every fucking ounce of effort I have to keep my eyes on her and not let my head fall back when I feel how fucking tight she is. Just the thought of her tight pussy wrapped around my dick is nearly enough to set me off.

  She’s already close, I know she is. Come on Grace. Give it to me.

  “You like that?” I question her in a rough breath, kissing her inner thigh afterwards. I never stop stroking her front wall, pressing a bit harder as she stretches for me. Her pussy clenches tighter and her arousal soaks my hand as I push her higher and higher.

  Her head thrashes as she breathes the word out. “Yes,” she moans and it’s barely audible.

  I press my thumb to her clit, ruthlessly rubbing circles and her ass jumps in response, her thighs shaking. As she moans my name, I pin her down and I can’t move, my body paralyzed from watching the pleasure overtake her body. She’s gorgeous like this. She struggles to stay still as I pick up the pace of my movements, desperately needing her to get off.

  “Yes!” she screams out, gripping the bar with both hands as her body shakes and her legs try to close tight around me. Fuck yes. Her pussy spasms around my fingers and I don’t wait for her orgasm to finish. I need her right fucking now.

  Climbing between her legs, I spread the bead of precum over the head of my dick and stroke it. Shit! I forgot the condom.

  Her one leg wraps around my waist, the heel of her foot digging into my ass. “Charlie, please,” she begs me.

  “Condom,” I barely get the word out, but I don’t try to pull away. “Shit, I need a condom.” I don’t know if I have another.

  “No condom,” she shakes her head, her heel pushing harder at my ass and that’s all I need.
“You don’t need to if you don’t want to. It’s not like…” Her voice drifts off and she doesn’t have to explain. It’s not like I can forget what she told me weeks ago.

  Before the sadness can creep any deeper into her heated gaze, I line my dick up between her hot, slick folds and push in gently at first. Just enough so I can lean forward and brace my arms on either side of her head. Her body’s so small beneath mine.

  Easing in gently, I tilt my hips and rock into her, slowly stretching her. I’m mesmerized by her face the entire time. Her lips part, and her forehead pinches. I’m quick to reach down and put gentle pressure on her clit with slow circles. Her eyes roll back in her head, and her soft moans fill the room. It gets her to relax and I slide in deeper and easier although there’s still some resistance.

  I can barely breathe with how tight she is. She feels too fucking good.

  When her expression turns a little bit more to pain than I want, I wait a minute, kissing her neck and rubbing her throbbing nub before pushing my way back in.

  My lips travel up and down her neck, leaving kisses all along the way.

  As soon as I’m buried deep inside of her, I pull back to look her in the eyes.

  And in that moment, something switches for me. Something changes between us. I don’t know what it is, a spark, a pull. Something raw and pure. Something that’s scary as all hell that I don’t want to face.

  I pull back quickly and slam into her, groaning and falling forward as a cold sweat breaks out along every inch of my skin.

  I wait, pushing my chest against hers to keep her pinned down as her pussy spasms around my dick. Her body tenses and I give her a moment… and then do it again.

  She cries out “yes!” and I don’t wait this time. She’s hot, wet and ready for me to fuck her pretty little pussy the way she deserves to be fucked. I angle my hips so each time I thrust all the way to the hilt, my groin smacking against her clit.