Revenge of the Bridesmaids

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Authors: Chastity Foelds

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Revenge of the Bridesmaids

 

by

Chastity Foelds

 

 

Copyright © Revenge of the Bridesmaids by Chastity Foelds

Cover Art © Can Stock Photo Inc.

All rights reserved.  This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

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CHAPTER ONE

I probably shouldn't have bought that economy size package of Rohypnol when I was on spring break in Cancun.  Still, who can resist a bargain?  Isn’t it a virtue to be thrifty?  And the economy size was cheap, cheap, cheap.  I was surprised to see Rohypnol—also known as roofies, the date rape drug—on sale at all.  And at such a steal!

At the time it seemed like no big deal.  It kind of made sense, logically-speaking.  I liked getting laid.  I was lazy about it.  The chicks were going to say yes eventually anyway, so why beat around the bush, so to speak?

I probably shouldn’t have used all the pills. 

Now, hold on.  I didn't go through the whole package down in Mexico.  I'm not an animal.  I used them over a period of a few years, like a civilized person.  And I never got caught.  Sometimes I felt bad about it, but then I just thought about something else and the bad feelings went away.

Ah, whatever.  Life is too short to live with regret.  All the girls had a good time—even if they can't remember.

Regret wasn't what was on my mind as I drove up the New England coast to Chet and Lisa's wedding.  No, no regrets.  I merely had reservations—not hotel reservations, but mental reservations.  It wasn't the bride I was worried about.  I'd never used a roofie on Lisa.  Chet and Lisa were high school sweethearts, and dated all through college.  I respected that.  But the bridesmaids were a different story.  Lisa had four bridesmaids in her wedding party.  I knew three of them.  Actually, I had carnal knowledge of three of them. 

To be blunt, I had roofied three of them.

I didn't know the fourth bridesmaid, Amber.  I'd never even met her.  Too bad I was out of roofies, otherwise I could complete my bridesmaid collection.  I supposed I could try and charm and seduce Amber when I met her, but that seemed like a lot of work.

Next month I was headed back down to Mexico.  I'd replenish my roofie supply then.

Ah, the memories!  Brenda, Cassie, and Donna had been great in the sack—even though roofies can make a girl a wee bit listless, their bodies were rocking.  Hey, I was doing all the grunt work!  Not wanting to ever forget, I videoed them all.  Some nights I'd watch the videos before jerking off.  In a way, I was honoring their memory with my ritual of respect.  I'm classy like that.

Steering the car to the exit for Provincetown, I felt my mouth run dry.

Two months ago, the flash drive with my videos of Brenda, Cassie, and Donna had gone missing.

 

CHAPTER TWO

The destination wedding was on the shore at a B&B that featured several cabins and a main house.  There was a huge restored barn that would serve as the wedding hall, and a view of the ocean from the wide lawn.  It all sat high up on a cliff, and was very charming.  I wasn't the first to arrive, by far, but I wasn't the last, either.  The wedding was the next day, and that night was the bridal party. 

I wasn't in the bridal party, so I could have arrived a day later, but I wanted to attend the rehearsal dinner, and perhaps reignite some old flames.

Cassie spotted me first as I walked to the gazebo.  Her white shorts contrasted sharply with her tan legs, and her spaghetti strap top jounced pleasingly as she ran towards me, her red Keds eating up the green lawn.

"Hey, Stud," Cassie screamed.  "You made it!"  Cassie wrapped her arms around me and gave me a huge hug.  I hugged her in return.  When she pulled away, she did her best Austin Powers and said, "Do weddings make you horny, baby?"

"Everything makes me horny," I replied.  Cassie bounced in my arms and gave me another fierce hug.

"Some things never change," someone behind me said.  I recognized that voice! I turned and spotted Brenda, her auburn curls cascading down to her shoulders, which were left bare by her sundress.  Brenda was all smiles.

"Hey, Brenda," I said.  "Let me carry that."  Cassie was reluctant to let me go, but she did.  I reached over and grabbed the heavy bucket of clams that was making Brenda lean to one side.  Man, Brenda looked good. 

"Always the gentleman, Andy," Brenda said.  She kissed me on my cheek.  I blushed a bit, as I remembered the cute little mole over her shaved cunt that Brenda thought was her little secret. 
Gentleman!
  If she only knew!

With one girl on each arm, I walked over to the gazebo where Chet and Lisa were chatting up the wedding guests.  Chet introduced me to the groomsmen.  I was not happy.  Javier, Art, Devon, and Cliff—the groomsmen—were all incredibly good looking.  This was going to hurt my odds.  I wished I still had some roofies.  The good news was neither Brenda nor Cassie were dating any of the groomsmen.  Cassie clung to my arm as we all made small talk.  Cassie was going to be easy pickings, and I thought it might be nice to sleep with her when she wasn’t knocked out by roofies, but I didn’t want to over-commit just yet.  Cassie wasn't the prize I wanted most.

"Is Donna here yet?" I asked.

"She's surfing," Cassie said.  "You know how she is.  If Donna hears a wave, she has to grab her board.  She should be back soon."

"Hey, Gentleman Andy!" Brenda called out from across the lawn.  "How about a hand with these clams?"  Brenda was next to the gazebo, using the outdoor ping-pong table as a staging area for her work with the bucket of clams.

"I don't know how to open them," I muttered.

Cassie squeezed my arm, rubbing her tit against me.  "I'll teach you.  It's easy!"  Oh, boy.  Cassie was all over me—opening
her
clam was going to be easy, too. 

We strolled over to ping-pong table, and Brenda held out a clam knife for me.  "Careful," she said.  "It's sharp."

"Like my rapier wit," I said.

"No, way sharper," Brenda replied.  “Thank goodness, otherwise we wouldn’t get anything opened.”

Cassie held my hand and placed a clam in it.  "Hold it like this," Cassie said, "and then press the knife against the bulge.  Use your four fingers on the back of the blade to apply pressure, and presto!  Opened clam!"  Cassie’s hand folded over mine, and it lingered there.  So adorable, she was.  A little bit crazy, but that was cool.

Opening clams was easier than it looked.  I got the hang of it pretty quickly, but I had Cassie show me a few more times anyway.  Cassie kept rubbing up against me, and it was making me hard.  I had wondered which of the girls was going to be the Wedding Slut, and now I was pretty sure it'd be Cassie.

"How's law school going?" I asked Cassie.

"Don't you read my Facebook posts?  I graduated early," Cassie said.

"Wow," I replied.  "You always were super smart.  I guess I owe you a present."  Wow, I never thought she’d make it.  Cassie was a bit unstable, and I didn’t think she’d see law school through to the end. 

Cassie bounced on her toes, and her blouse jostled loosely, drawing my eyes to her soft, sweet breasts.  "I'll hold you to that, mister."

"Hey, look," Brenda said, "Gentleman Andy is pretty good with a clam knife."  She grinned and kept opening clams at a rate of two for each one I did.  "So, Andy, how's life since college?" Brenda asked.

"Pretty good," I said.  "The job is alright.  Boston is a fun town."

"Wait until you see the wedding party dresses Brenda made," Cassie said to me, leaning close.  She was opening clams at a pretty brisk rate herself, and the air started to smell rich with ocean bounty.  "You, sir," Cassie continued, "are going to have trouble keeping your dick in your pants."

"He always does," Brenda added.

"Aw, come on," I said.  "I'm not that bad."

"No," Cassie said.  "You're that good."  She jostled my arm, rubbing her tit against me again.  “At least that’s the word on the street.”

“Nice streets you hang out on, you little delinquent.”

I looked over toward Cassie, but then I spotted Donna coming up the cliff path.  Donna was toting her surfboard, and she wore a one-piece navy blue bathing suit that was still wet from the waves.  The suit was like a second skin, and kept no secrets.  Donna had such a rocking bod.  She waved at me.  I gave her a nod, not wanting to seem too eager.  My eyes drank her in.  Donna didn't have an ounce of fat on her, and she had a lean strength that didn't lessen her feminine appeal.  It enhanced it.  Donna was like a goddess who’d climbed out of the sea.

Oww!

"You cut yourself," Brenda said.  "Don't bleed on the clams!"

I looked down, and sure enough, my thumb was sliced open, right on the pad.

"First aid kit!" Cassie cried.  She ran to the main house of the B&B.  Man, those red Keds could fly!  And her cute little rear could jiggle, too.

I wrapped a napkin around my bleeding thumb.

"Hey Andy," Donna said as she laid her board against the side of the gazebo.  Her wet hair glistened with sunlight.  "You still hang ten?"

"On occasion."

"Well then give us a hug, my boogie brotha."  Donna stretched out her tan arms.  They still glistened.  "I hope you don't mind getting wet."

"Never have," I replied, and I hauled her in.  "Surfer Girl, you fit against me like a pea in a pod."  Her head nestled under my chin.  Donna's hair was pulled back in a pony tail, and it smelled of the sea.  I ran my non-bleeding hand along her back.  Donna's body was solid and feisty, exactly as I remembered.

"I've wanted to see you again for so long, Andy," Donna whispered into my chest.  "We have unfinished business, you and I."  Crap.  Donna was making my dick hard.  There was no way she couldn't notice.  Fuck it.  It was a compliment.

Cassie returned with the first aid kit and said, "Give me your thumb," killing the mood.  I reluctantly let go of Donna.  "It's a clean slice,” Cassie said.  “Just a little antiseptic and a tight bandaid should do the trick."

"Am I off the hook for opening clams?" I asked Brenda.

"Yeah.  Did you cut yourself just to get out of it?" Brenda asked with a grin, wagging a clam knife at me.  "I know you're tricky like that."

"Nope," I said.  "Yowch!"  I looked down at Cassie, who was holding my hand open-faced up.  She had a little sleeve of powdered antiseptic that she had sprinkled on my bleeding thumb.

"Sorry," she said.  "Does it sting?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Too bad.  It's good for you."  Cassie kissed my thumb and put a bandaid on it.

"Aw," Donna said.  She punched my arm.  "Did the big, strong man get a boo boo?"

"Not funny, surfer girl," I said.  "It really hurts.  I might need stitches."

"Don't be a baby," Brenda said.  "I cut myself all the time.”  She set back to opening clams.  I noticed her fix Cassie with a knowing gaze, and then Brenda turned back to me and said, “You're acting like a little girl."

The three of them giggled.

That was my first clue, and I missed it.

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