I down a shot at the bar and turn around just in time to see her kiss Matthew for the photographer. Lara catches my eye for a second and looks away.

I'm her bridesmaid; I should be over there, making sure she looks good, holding her flowers. But the truth is, I can't. I've reached my limit for the day. It's nearly 7 pm and I've done well to last this long. Another hour or so and I can slip away to my hotel room, pack my bag and get out of here. 

"Same again?" the bartender asks. I nod.

Lara appears in front of me a few minutes later and my stomach flips, like it has done a hundred times already today. Her blonde hair falls in waves around her bare shoulders. The dress, an intricate lace affair with sleeves, clings to every curve. Matthew will be the one unbuttoning it later, the one fucking her senseless tonight. I briefly turn away from her and make eye contact with the barman, signaling for another. I need to numb these feelings. They're dangerous.

"Jesse," Lara says, her voice like caramel. She touches my forearm lightly. "I need to go to the bathroom."

I shrug, licking the sticky rim of my glass. "And?"

"And you're my maid of honor, right? You've done a pretty shit job so far, the least you can do is help me with my dress."

"It's been a long day," I say, slamming the glass down a little too hard. I wipe my mouth on the back of my hand and smooth my dress. "Fine. You lead."

I follow her through the crowd. People smile at us as we pass. The bride and her devoted best friend, how lovely, they must be thinking. How little they know, I think.

There's a special bathroom in the function centre just for the bride, tucked away on the second floor. There's a full-length mirror, an oriental rug, a basket full of cosmetics, and an upholstered armchair.  

Lara locks the door then turns to face me, her chest rising and falling quickly. My back's on the wall and she pushes up against me, her lips on my neck. "You're all I can think about," she whispers. 

I close my eyes, feeling my pussy throb, dampness seep into the fabric of my thong. "Fuck it. Lara, you made your choice. We can't," I say, gently pushing her back. 

"Please, Jesse," she says, her eyes wide, lips slightly parted. "Eat my pussy, one last time."

I watch as Lara lifts her dress up, scooping the layers of silk, lace, and tulle to reveal white stockings and a suspender belt. I gasp involuntarily as she moves towards the chair. She climbs on to it, her back to me, the bright white string underwear framing her arse. She tugs them halfway down, then looks over her shoulder at me. 

It's too much to take. Within seconds I'm kneeling on the floor, my face level with her arse cheeks. Her skin smells of rose-scented soap. I part Lara's cheeks and slide my tongue into her tight arse, pushing it against the soft fleshy walls and enjoying the feel of her body giving way. She angles herself, hoisting one foot up on the armrest, slightly cocking her leg so I can move between her arse and pussy. 

"You're soaking," I say, running my tongue through every groove, swallowing her juices down. 

I'm right under her, my nose against her clit, tongue inside her pussy, hands gripping her cheeks. She grinds against me, fucking my face. I keep my tongue firm so she can ride it. She bites down on the fabric chair to muffle the noise and I moan as I feel her climax, her juice snaking its way down my throat.

I guide her off the chair and lie her face down on the rug, keeping the dress above her waist. Her backside is damp, glistening under the lights. We've done this a thousand times before; she knows what I'm going to do. I unzip my dress and let it fall to the floor, then pull my underwear down. 

Lara moans as I mount her, my wet pussy grinding against her tight, peachy arse. I put my hands on the rug, either side of her head, and fuck her hard and fast, rubbing my clit rhythmically over her, again and again, conscious that it's the last time. I gasp as she flips around to scissor, smashing her pussy against mine with a kind of frantic desperation I haven't experienced before. 

When we're done, she lies perfectly still whilst I lick her clean, going over every groove again. 

"I can't believe you married him," I say, helping her up. I straighten her dress, then kiss her softly.

Her brown eyes study my face. "I want to be with you. I just can't believe it took me until today to realise it."

I almost laugh and shake my head. 

We've fucked thousands of times like this since college. Drunken, fumbling sex, never spoken about the following day. She'd never managed to admit to herself who she was. What she was.

"Then leave with me," I say, the alcohol and finality of the situation giving me courage. "Meet me back at the hotel. We'll leave tonight." I move my lips to her ear, "And I'll eat your pussy every night for the rest of our lives."

She laughs and cups my face. "I'm serious. I am."

"Then meet me in room 202."

Lara nods and I believe her. 

We straighten ourselves up and then unlock the door. Matthew's outside, chatting to the best man. 

"Jeez. You girls took forever," he says. 

I laugh as I pass him and he gives me a strange look, then seems to shrug it off as if he can't believe it. As I descend the stairs, I wonder if he just caught the scent of his wife's pussy on my breath.