A Choreographed Release

Author's Note: I'm tagging this as a stand-alone for now because it's not really a full 'series', but this is actually a sequel to A Tailored Release! Read that first before this.

Many thanks to roxas_duh for sponsoring this story.

---

"Nathan, that's a very nice suit. You look acceptable." She gave a firm nod.

I blinked. Acceptable from my mother was incredibly high praise. "Hey, thanks Mom."

And I had to admit that she was right. The suit fit perfectly. It...well...it suited me. Ha.

I studied myself in the mirror. The heathered grey wool -- which had looked relatively unremarkable in the shop -- worked well against my skin tone. Even the tie Madison had picked out to match with Grace's dress just worked with my hair and eyes.

The suit really did make the man, I guess.

"Now, Nathan, let's move quick, or we'll be late."

I swallowed, hard. I was glad I felt so confident about the suit, because the idea of seeing Madison again gave me a sinking sensation the pit of my stomach.

The realization that she'd been teasing me during the suit fitting on purpose -- that smirk on her face as I'd cum in my pants, against her chest -- had been bad enough.

The idea that she was going to be at this wedding filled me with a simultaneous excitement and dread. Ceremony. Reception. Dinner. Dancing. Hours and hours with her around.

---

As we headed out the door, I realized the suit wasn't perfect. One of my side pockets had a hole in it. A pretty big hole, actually. Huh. Given the otherwise exceptional quality of my suit, I was a little surprised, but it had been a rush job, after all. I made sure my phone was in my other pants pocket.

My mother operated with an efficient punctuality; as such, we arrived at the venue precisely ten minutes before the ceremony was due to start.

I hesitated as she strode purposefully inside, glancing at the crowded rows of chairs on either side of the aisle. I didn't want to sit next to my mother, that was for sure. And I didn't see Grace anywhere.

...Or Madison, for that matter.

I wasn't sure which of them I was more concerned about catching a glimpse of.

"I'm going to wait a few minutes so Grace has someone to sit next to," I said, absentmindedly to my mother.

She looked surprised, but if anything, a little pleased. "Very thoughtful, Nathan. I'll see you at the cocktail hour, then."

My mother marched right down the aisle -- as if she were the bride herself -- sitting near the front, next to another one of my cousins. I saw his shoulders slump in resignation as my mom sat next to him and said something in her clipped, peremptory tones. I grinned in spite of myself. At least I was free of her for the moment.

"Wow, Nate, I almost didn't recognize you."

It was Grace, soft voice at my shoulder. I turned around.

She was smiling up at me. I'd seen Grace in a bunch of outfits over the years: Christmas sweaters at the annual holiday party my mother organized; jeans and t-shirts running around town; a field hockey jersey, coming home from practice.

The photo of her in the dress that she sent me yesterday didn't do her justice. The frosty blue of the dress contrasted with her looks, bringing out the warm undertones of her skin, giving her a bronze glow, pulling rich colors out of her brown hair. The fabric of the dress dipped low in the front and in the back as well leaving a lot of her upper body bare, showing off the swell of her breasts, the smooth skin of her back.

And it clung to her hips and ass in a way that made it difficult for me to look her in the eye, but I managed. "Hi, Grace."

She was giving me a once over, too, at least. Her admiring gaze caught on the lapels of the suit at my chest, followed the silhouette of the jacket down. "You even matched the tie to my dress. Wow." Her voice was mild, but surprised.

"Yeah." I was not at my most eloquent, and, after all -- Madison was responsible for everything she was complimenting, not me. But she'd never looked at me this way before, and I wasn't sure what to make of it. "We should, uh, get seated."

She nodded, pleased. "Let's go."

And then she hooked her arm through mine.

I registered the feeling of her arm sliding into mine with shock. We'd only ever been platonic friends. She was clearly enjoying the two of us dressed to the nines. Maybe Madison had been right: there was an opportunity here.

I escorted Grace down the aisle, ushering her into a row a few seats back from where my mother was -- no need to sit too close to her. Grace twisted sideways, sliding into the row, and I followed her, trying not to linger on the way the dress hugged her curves.

We sat, chatting idly for a moment. I asked her how college was going. She was on the field hockey team; they'd had a good season. Talked about how hard it was to balance academics and sports, but that she was trying, would graduate next semester pre-law. I told her how I thought my classes would give me a leg-up on the MBA track at my university as well, my plans to TA a class or two this summer, that sort of thing.

It all felt very familiar; the same conversation we'd have at the annual holiday party, when we saw each other around town over summer vacation, that sort of thing.

Except that Grace was close enough to me that I could feel her thigh up against mine; her hand would periodically touch my shoulder as she made a point, brush my leg as she brought her hand back to her lap.

I was mulling over how that felt, what it meant. The chairs were pushed pretty close together to cram as many as possible into the ceremony space, but even so, the way she kept touching me...

And then a voice from my other side made every hair on my body stand on end.

"Hey, Nate!"

It was Madison; the amused tone was unmistakable.

I turned.

And stared.

Madison's dress was a deep wine-red. It was cut low enough that her tits all but spilled from the bodice. I'd gotten a sense of them in the blouse she was wearing yesterday, had felt them pressed against me -- but this dress put them on display, pushing them up and together like they were being offered up for my consideration. She was sitting next to me, legs crossed; the skirt of her dress was slit high, leaving a long expanse of creamy thigh visible.

I could feel my body reacting almost embarrassingly quickly to her sudden appearance. My face got red, and my cock hardened. Jesus. She was stunning.

"Hi, Madison," I managed. I tried to collect myself, conscious of Grace's presence. I didn't want the reaction I was having to be too obvious to her.

Grace looked politely past me at Madison, face quizzical.

I took the cue, deciding I'd start with the easier of the two introductions. "Madison, this is Grace; we go way back. Grace, this is Madison, she-"

Madison jumped in. "Oh my god, you're Grace? Nate was telling me all about you the other day. He didn't mention you were such a smokeshow!"

"Oh, uh, thanks." Grace looked gratified by that, but still confused. "Good things, I hope? It's nice to meet you. How do you guys know each other?"

Madison smiled. Her lips were the same dark red as her dress. "Oh, we-"

But at that moment, the processional music started. She smiled apologetically at Grace, mouthed later, and lapsed into silence.

I was grateful for the reprieve. Fuck. I'd expected to see Madison at the wedding, maybe to endure some teasing, to catch a glimpse of her across the room at dinner, maybe actively avoid her on the dance floor...not to have her sit down next to me at the ceremony.

Grace's presence wasn't helping either; I was extremely conscious of how close she was. It didn't feel deliberate, but I could feel the curve of her hip against mine.

I shifted to turn away from Grace, to look towards the aisle. As if I were closely watching the wedding party process down the aisle -- the mother of the bride was escorted in, and so on. I was hoping it would give me an opportunity to compose myself.

But it put Madison's tits directly in my line of sight, and her chest fully occupied my thoughts. They'd...she'd...

Well. She'd made me cum so hard yesterday. 

I'd been completely out of control.

There was no way not to think about it, staring at them. Imagining how they'd feel in that dress, pressed against me. How they'd feel wrapped around my cock without any clothes in the way.

By the time we all rose for the bride's entrance a few moments later, I had started to get hard enough that I took the opportunity to adjust my erection so that it'd be less visible.

I took a deep breath. I needed to pull myself together.

Unfortunately, there just didn't seem to be any time to get my equilibrium. Grace slipped her hand through mine as the bride walked past. She stepped up onto her tiptoes to whisper in my ear. “Weddings are kind of romantic, y’know? She looks so beautiful.”

Her breath tickling against my skin wasn't helping my sense of calm. "Yeah, romantic," I agreed. We lapsed into silence again as we sat down.

"Welcome, everyone. I'm Rob. I'm a good friend of Steve and Kelly, and -- having been ordained as a minister through the combined power of both Christ and the internet -- I'll be officiating this wedding. Please join me on a spiritual journey." That got a big laugh. It was a secular wedding, with mostly secular guests, apparently.

The officiant's remarks were brief, but he kept cracking jokes like that as he talked about the bride and groom. It was obvious the crowd was a boisterous one, and loved it.

Unfortunately for me, it meant that Madison felt free to start talking again. She spoke in a low voice, the laughter in the chapel ensuring only I could hear her.

"Well, I’m a little disappointed, Nate," she said. "I mean, I saw the photo, but you didn't tell me that Grace was such a fit little hottie. I can't believe you haven't even tried to make something happen."

I'd been worried about this. I rolled my eyes and tried to ignore her, directing my attention towards the altar.

But Madison kept talking. "Is that why you finished before the fitting was over? I thought it was me, but maybe you were just thinking about shooting your shot with Grace tonight. Or all over Grace." She giggled.

I flushed, looked over at her. "Shut up," I muttered.

Madison just grinned, all red lips and white teeth. She leaned in, and her jet-black hair brushed my shoulder, her voice quiet in my ear. “You’re so cute when you're flustered, Nate. Don’t worry, Grace doesn't have to know what happened. Unless you give me a reason to tell her.”

I bit back a reply as the laughter in the room died down. They were exchanging vows, now, Steve talking ardently about how much he loved Kelly.

"Aw, they're so cute," Grace said, quietly. I glanced over at her; she was watching the couple with a soft smile, but she met my eyes as I looked her way. The soft smile stayed.

She really was pretty. I smiled back; she looked away, after a moment.

Kelly started talking, then; some story about how they'd met, an ill-fated ski trip here in Aspen, a lift that had gotten stuck, a bottle of peppermint schnapps.

I caught movement out of the corner of my eye, glanced Madison's way. She was idly tracing her fingers up the smooth, exposed length of her thigh. God, the slit on that dress went high. The fingers stopped stroking her skin, shifted to give me a cheery little wave, as if to say, hi there, caught you looking.

I glanced up at Madison. Caught the teasing smile on her lips. Looked away again.

Fortunately, the ceremony went brief, so I wasn't sandwiched between Madison and Grace for too much longer. Grace did grab my hand again at one point, delighted by the couple's first kiss as husband and wife.

And Madison noticed it. I saw her glanced first at Grace, then at me, then at our hands...her gaze frank, assessing.

I didn't like it.

But then the recessional was playing, we all stood, and people started moving towards the exit.

"Nathan? Come over here, say hello to your uncle." It was my mother's voice peremptory, commanding.

I glanced apologetically at Grace, who gave me an understanding smile -- she was no stranger to my mother's behavior. "I'll, uh, catch up with you in a bit." I shuffled towards my mom.

"Bye, Nate," Madison said. Her smile was more gleeful and far less understanding.

At first, I'd welcomed an excuse to escape. I had started to feel a little trapped between the two of them.

But -- as my uncle peppered me with questions about college, mostly answered by my mother, in the end -- I found myself massively distracted.

Because now Grace and Madison were talking.

We were all following the flow of guests towards the reception area, which meant my mother, uncle and I were trailing ten or fifteen feet behind them, so I couldn't hear what they were saying. But they looked like two old friends -- periodically giggling, Madison touching Grace's arm for emphasis, Grace laughing uproariously at one point.

And then the two of them looked back at me.

Suddenly, all the anxiety I'd felt sitting between them returned and then some. What was Madison saying to Grace?

"Nathan, pay attention. Your uncle just asked you a question." My mother's tone was brusque, irritated.

"Uh, sorry. What'd you say?" I refocused my attention, albeit briefly, on my uncle, who was looking at me expectantly.

"I asked if you're seeing anyone," he repeated, patiently. "Got a girlfriend?"

"N...no?" My attention had drifted back to the two young women ahead of us again, and -- looking at them -- the word came out as a question, rather than a statement.

They burst into a fit of giggles again.

They couldn't possibly have heard me, but the timing of it certainly made it feel as if they were laughing at me.

---

When we walked into the reception space, I escaped my mother. I'd lost sight of Grace and Madison in the mill of people crowding into the big room, so I just lined up at one of the bars; I could use a drink, and some time alone with my thoughts felt just fine.

What had Madison said to Grace? The idea of her telling Grace that she'd made me cum in my pants during a suit fitting was mortifying.

For that matter, Grace was behaving oddly, too. Maybe she just liked me in a suit, weddings made her feel more romantic. Something like that. But whatever it was...I actually felt like I had a shot at hooking up with her tonight, if I wanted.

If Madison didn't screw it up, that is. I wondered what Madison wanted. Why was she doing this?

As if the thought had summoned her, an amused voice was at my elbow. "Hey, can you grab me a drink, too?"

I turned. It was indeed Madison, devastating in that red dress, one eyebrow raised at me.

I swallowed. "What, uh, do you want?"

"Gin and tonic."

"Sure..."

"By the way, I like Grace a lot. I was telling her all about how we met."

It stopped me dead in my tracks.

Then she laughed. "Relax. I told her we took a class in college together. By the way, we met in a Chemistry class, in case she asks."

I blinked. "...Why?" I asked, lamely.

"Why'd I lie, you mean?" She leaned in closer. "Why didn't I tell her how I made you blow your load in your pants? Without even touching your cock?"

I was suddenly dizzy with embarrassment.

And arousal.

The way Madison said it -- mocking, a little cruel -- reminded me of the look on her face as she stared up at me, soft tits pressing through my pants around my cock.

It reminded me of losing control.

I looked away.

"Don't worry. I think she really likes you. Grace asked me if we'd ever hooked up, and it was a kind of worried, what-if-I'm-the-competition question. She's so cute."

That threw me for another loop. "Uh, what'd you say?"

"The truth. We haven't, had we?" Madison smirked. "I mean, my definition of a hookup requires skin-to-skin contact, not..."

"Uh...right. Y-yeah, I guess we haven’t. Thanks for…telling her that?" I supposed the lie was better than the alternative.

"Sure. Oh, I talked you up a little bit, too. I said that I thought you were cute. Said half the girls in our class had crushes on you, but that you aren't really my type. That we'd always just been good friends, which meant that tons of girls asked me for advice about you all semester."

I ran a hand through my hair. I'd felt off-balance since Madison walked in and sat down next to me during the ceremony; this was not helping my equilibrium.

And then Madison glanced to my side, and murmured, "Hope that's enough context, because here she comes. Feel free to tell her how we really met if you want, though."

"Hey guys. How's your mom, Nate?"

"She's, um...the same?" I chuckled ruefully.

"Yeah, seemed that way." Grace gave me a sympathetic smile. "She's always been overbearing, huh? Oh my god, remember that time in fifth grade? The spelling bee? When you lost because you couldn’t spell erupting? God, she made you spell it over and over again for weeks."

Madison, of course, looked delighted by this little anecdote. She elbowed me. "Oh my god. Just erupting, over and over again, because you couldn’t handle it, huh?"

The double entendre wasn't lost on me.

Grace nodded, emphatically. "It was awful. And poor Nate would get so flustered that he'd sometimes still couldn’t handle it, even after like weeks of practicing."

"Aw, poor Nate is right," Madison pouted. "That much stress is almost cruel. Pressure like that is bound to make somebody crack. Or explode."

To Grace, it probably seemed sympathetic. The mockery of it all was clear to me, of course. The blush on my face was starting to feel like a permanent condition.

"Yeah," Grace agreed. "She's always been like that, though. Hard on him."

Madison looked thoughtful, now. "I mean, practice makes perfect, doesn't it? Can you handle erupting now, Nate?"

I had to stop this. I felt badly outclassed; Madison's little verbal games had me running in circles, and Grace was totally oblivious, playing right along.

Worse, I was finding that it turned me on. Every little quip in front of Grace, each little dig at how quickly I'd cum for Madison, was just another reminder of how hot it'd been. How good she'd felt. How expertly she'd gotten me off.

But I managed to pull together a reply. "I mean, yeah, of course. Erupting. A...r...r..." I said the letters slowly, as if I was guessing at them.

Grace laughed, playfully slapping my arm.

Madison smiled too -- but it looked to me like it was more in appreciation of my effort to rerail the conversation than a smile for the joke itself.

We'd reached the front of the line. There was a brief pause while all three of us ordered drinks before Madison picked up the conversation again.

"Well, he must have a lot less performance anxiety these days," Madison noted, sipping at her gin and tonic. "All the girls in our classes seem to love him."

Grace rolled her eyes. "Ugh, you'll just inflate his ego."

"Hah. Nate does have a bit of a big head, doesn't he? I don't think most people know; you have to get pretty close to him to realize." Madison smirked over the rim of her glass at me, eyes sparkling. "Maybe that's why you keep me around, huh? You like how I pump you up?"

Madison thought I had a big head? Was she talking about...

I felt my pulse surge, blood rushing through me at the idea. My cock was getting hard in a way that would be hard to hide.

Grace snorted. "Probably. Maybe you should be cutting him down to size instead, helping to keep him levelheaded."

Madison nodded, as if seriously considering it. "What do you think, Nate? Should I be meaner to you?"

I had to get out of here, but my mind was blank; I couldn't think of any way to gracefully exit the conversation. So I just went with something abrupt. "I'm, uh, actually gonna run to the restroom. See you guys in a few."

I fled. There was no way to call it anything else.

---

In the bathroom, I splashed my face with cold water, took in a shaky breath. Jesus. I felt like the whole evening was on the cusp of spiraling out of control.

The brief relief I felt at getting away from Madison was quickly replaced by a sense of growing dread. What was she saying to Grace now?

I needed to get back out there.

It would be fine, I told myself. Get through dinner. Sit next to Grace. Make sure Madison didn't say anything too weird to her about me, redirect the conversation if needed.

Once the music and dancing started it'd be hard for them to talk; then I could say I felt like I had a stomach bug, leave on the first bus back to the hotel if I wanted.

Unfortunately, the rest of the reception mostly consisted of me being waylaid by relatives. I had lost track of Madison and Grace again, was pulled into a conversation with one of my cousins, then an aunt, then my grandmother.

So when I heard Madison's voice from behind me as I looked around the reception area, I nearly jumped out of my skin.

"Hey again, Nate. Was wondering where you ran off to."

Madison was leaning casually up against one of the small tables set up for people to gather around.

"Yeah, I uh, looked for you all, but..."

Madison shrugged, as if it was no big deal. "Well, I'm glad I found you before dinner. I wanted to talk to you."

I decided to try to go on offense. "I wanted to talk to you, too. Look, about Grace, I..."

"Oh, Nate." She was laughing, low and throaty. "Okay, yes, let's talk about Grace. What's on your mind?"

"W-what're you...doing, Madison? I don't understand why you're..."

"Why I'm what?" Her voice was sultry. "Talking you up to her? Teasing you, instead of telling her outright about your eruption problem?" She paused, then added, "The one yesterday, I mean. Although I did like hearing about fifth-grade Nate. So cute."

Well, that was a more embarrassing way of describing what was happening than I would've chosen, but it was the basic question I had, yeah. So I nodded.

"Relax, Nate. I'm not going to tell her. Why do you think I made up that story about how we knew each other?" She held up a hand, all mock solemnity. "Promise."

Relief flooded through me, and I gave her a grateful smile. "Hey, thanks." But I was still wary. She had given Grace the impression that she knew me well. She could've just mentioned the suit fitting, left out the embarrassing part.

My wariness was appropriate, it turned out.

"...Besides, I've got something way more fun in mind." A smile toyed across her red lips.

My heart sank. "What do you mean?"

"Well, between yesterday, and how flustered you are with me and Grace tonight...you seem wound a little tight, Nate. You need to get laid."

She took a sip of her drink. "So I thought I'd help."

I narrowed my eyes, completely mistrustful, now. "Help how?"

"Well...if you can stick it out to the end of the night, I'll make sure you get laid."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, come on. You've been talking me up to Grace, but I don't think you can guarantee it'll happen."

"I'm a little offended by your lack of confidence," she said, archly. "I told you yesterday that I'm an excellent wing-woman. She's already romantically inclined towards you anyway. I'm just...nudging her along in the right direction. Honestly, I can't believe you haven't fucked Grace yet; I sure would've, if I were you."

The way fucked Grace rolled off her tongue -- salacious, but matter-of-fact -- set my pulse racing once again.

"Nudging her how?"

Madison shrugged. "It's simple. I've already implied you've got plenty of girls back on campus who want to sleep with you. Later, I'll tell her how much gossip there is about you. That one of them told me that you've got a nice dick. That I've heard a few girls say you're a great kisser. I'll tell Grace that I asked you if you thought she was cute, and you said yes. Maybe I'll say how I caught you staring at her butt."

She paused, then added. “...Not that it's some grand achievement, half the guests here have already seen the way you look at her ass. She's probably caught you doing it herself. Anyway, my point is just that as long as you don't fuck it up, I think she'll be ready to sleep with you at the end of the night."

I stared, openmouthed. She made it all sound so...easy. "Maybe...maybe I don't want to sleep with her," I said. I tried to make it sound casual, but it felt a little forced.

Madison shrugged. "Maybe not. I think you're an idiot. But if you don't want to sleep with her, I can still guarantee you can get laid tonight if you want."

I scoffed. "Sure you can."

Those hazel eyes met mine. "Of course I can."

My own gaze was pulled away from hers as one of her hands drifted, almost lazily, down from her collarbone to the full swell of one of her breasts in that low cut dress. My eyes followed her fingers as they traced along it, then dipped idly down, along the line of her cleavage.

God, her tits looked great. They felt great, too, I knew from experience.

"I can guarantee it," she said the words, slowly and deliberately, "because if you make it to the end of the night, I'll sleep with you."

My mouth was suddenly dry. Now it was impossible to look away from her tits. To imagine what she'd look like, body underneath mine. Or maybe, riding me, big tits bouncing.

"That's right. We can have our own little afterparty back at my place." She watched me stare at her tits for a moment longer, before continuing, "And don't bother trying to say you don't want to sleep with me. Grace isn't the only one you've been checking out tonight."

Denying it felt ridiculous. I wanted her so badly. Instead, a little unsteadily, I asked, "What do you mean, if I stick it out to the end of the night?"

She shrugged. "Just that. You have to stay to the end of the wedding. Do that and you can have me. Or Grace, for that matter. I'll spend the whole night teeing her up to fall right into your arms, and then into your bed."

That sounded good. "So...what's the catch?"

Now her smile looked cruel. "Well. After the suit fitting yesterday I'm sure you know that I can be...a bit of a tease, let's say. I won't tell Grace what happened, like I said. But I am going to spend all night teasing you. You just have to endure it."

"I...don't really have a choice, do I?" I asked, realization dawning.

She shrugged. "Well, you could always tell Grace you and I were lying to her about where you met me. Then I'd probably have to stop telling her more lies about all the girls who flirt with you on campus. But then you’d also have to tell her why you didn't want her to know that we met during your suit fitting yesterday...or she might ask me about it. And who knows what I'd say?" Madison asked, innocently.

Jesus. I didn’t know what to do. It was tempting to just leave; I could tell my mom that I was feeling sick and didn't want to infect anybody else, head back to the hotel.

Except.

"...But if I stay to the end, you'll help me sleep with her?" I had to admit, that part of this bizarre game she was playing had some appeal. "...Or you'll sleep with me?"

So did that part.

Madison nodded, and stretched. I watched the way it made her breasts shift and wobble, the top of the dress struggling to contain them as she moved.

"That's right. I have to admit, it'd be really annoying if you picked her over me. Especially since I think you know we could have lots of fun. But it'll be your call."

She watched me consider this for a moment, amused by my stunned silence.

And then one of the venue staff interrupted us. "Excuse me, you all, I need you to move to the dinner area; speeches are about to begin and dinner will be served shortly as well."

I'd been so focused on the conversation that I hadn't registered the fact that we were among the few guests lingering in the cocktail area.

Madison gave me a smile and turned to head into the dining area.

I trailed after her, feeling conflicted.

---

The clatter of silverware and bursts of laughter filled the banquet hall.

Grace had saved me a seat at our table to her right, beckoned me over.

There was an open one next to that too, and Madison was making a beeline for the two seats.

I hesitated for a moment, considering which to take. Did I really want to sit between them again, like during the ceremony? But it would be pretty rude not to sit next to Grace, and that would mean Madison could talk to Grace all evening...I might not hear what they were saying, and Madison would have my undivided attention, too...

The moment of indecision cost me the choice. Madison slipped ahead of me, leaving the seat between her and Grace open.

Reluctantly, I slid into it. 

"You survive the gauntlet of relatives?" Grace asked, smile on her face.

"Ha, yeah," I said, automatically. God, the seating was tight around these tables, just like at the ceremony. I was extremely conscious of Grace on my one side, icy blue fabric clinging to her curves, and Madison's decolletage in red on my other.

As if she could hear me thinking, Madison shifted her chair in, closer to the table. It also moved it a little closer to me -- I could feel the bare skin of her thigh rub, enticingly, along the leg of my pants.

I shifted my own chair, moving it closer to the table, too, and a little towards Grace. Away from the tease that Madison's skin represented.

Our part of the room was dimly lit, to highlight the bride, groom, and speakers; shadows played off Grace's pretty, angular features. “So, um… Nate. I was wondering...”

As she spoke, I felt Madison's hand brush along my thigh, near the knee. I pushed it away. “Yeah?” I tried to keep my tone light, in spite of the silent evasive maneuvering I was engaged in.

"Well...do you have a girlfriend?" She asked it awkwardly.

"Uh...no..." I answered. Grace wasn't getting my full attention; Madison's hand was on my upper thigh, now; I pushed it away again.

"Oh...that's good! I-I mean, not good, just...good to know. I..." she trailed off, cueing in on my expression. "It doesn't make you uncomfortable that I'm asking, does it? You seem a little...flustered."

Madison snorted, shifted her chair to be even closer to me. I couldn't move any further away from her now; my chair was practically trapped between hers and Grace's.

"No, no. Just, uh...listening to the speech, too." I said it politely. The father of the bride was telling some story about Kelly I'd barely been listening to, but I was extremely focused on whatever Madison was doing.

"Ah. Well...since you don't have a girlfriend...maybe you'd dance with me tonight?" Grace tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, and looked away.

The question astonished me enough that it brought my full attention back to Grace. I wondered if she'd always felt this way, or if it was things Madison that had been saying to her that sparked the sudden interest. "Grace, I..."

"I-it's okay if you don't want to." Her voice was soft. She was twisting her napkin between her fingers. The father of the bride finished, to applause, and the best man started speaking.

"No, I do." I said it a little more sharply than I intended; as I spoke, Madison snaked her hand inside the pocket of my pants. I felt her fingers caress my thigh, slide along it, pushing towards my groin.

"You sure?" The odd tone in my voice had sparked concern; Grace was looking my way, now, studying me closely.

I opened my mouth to reply.

And then, obscured from Grace's view by the angle of my body, Madison slid her hand through that big tear in the pants pocket I’d noticed earlier.

And she wrapped her fingers around my hard cock through my boxers.

I was stunned by the sensation for a moment, openmouthed and speechless. And Grace was staring me in the eyes.

"Hey, you okay?" There was real worry in her voice, now.

"Oh, he's probably just excited," Madison said, casually. As she spoke, she deftly adjusted my boxers, sliding my cock up and out through the opening in the front of the boxers. Her fingers were suddenly on me, the feeling of her hand running over the skin of my shaft exquisite. I tried not to make a sound.

Grace cocked her head, as if she wasn't quite sure she believed that.

"Maybe just my last drink hitting me," I managed. "I-I'd love to dance, Grace. Really."

She gave me a coy smile. "Okay. Good."

And then the person on her other side -- some woman I didn't know -- leaned towards Grace and asked her a question, and her attention was directed the other way.

I was grateful for the reprieve. Madison was pumping me now, hand wrapped around my cock

“You’re leaking everywhere. I guess you're really excited to dance with her, huh?" Madison's voice was a honeyed murmur, just loud enough for me to hear, barely rising above the laughter the best man's speech was currently prompting.

I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't want to pull Grace's attention back over here. "S-stop," I hissed at Madison.

If anything, her hand sped up.

"Are you sure?" Her voice was quizzical. "I mean, I'll stop if you really want..."

I did make a sound now, a little groan, staring at Madison's red lips. My gaze drifted, helplessly, down to her tits.

"Ohhh..." She dragged out the word, as if she was having a flash of insight. "Maybe you're not leaking because of the idea of a little dancing with your childhood friend. Maybe it's because of the hot girl jerking you off. Are you worried Grace won't like that?"

I couldn't respond. She was working my cock so deftly.

Madison’s hand tightened, her grip firmer, strokes a little quicker, each one sending a rush of pleasure through my body. "Or maybe just worried you'll like it a little too much..."

I should stop her, I knew. It felt so good. But if she didn't stop, I was going to cum. During a wedding dinner. The mortifying thought flitted through my mind.

It was like she could read it on my face, or maybe in the way my cock was throbbing in your hand.

“You’re not going to cum, are you?” she breathed out the question, dark lips curving into a smile. “Then you’d have to go home early. Everyone would know. Grace would know.”

But I'd let her do too much, go too far. I didn't even want to stop her anymore. I needed the release, I was going to-

The best man's voice cut across the haze of pleasure. "Everyone, stand and raise a glass for Steve and Kelly!"

I stumbled to my feet alongside the rest of the guests. The movement forced Madison's hand to slip away.

"To love!"

We all raised our champagne glasses.

Madison was looking at me over the rim of her glass, all impish satisfaction at how easily she controlled me.

Grace's eyes were locked on me too, as she echoed the toast, something more complicated there.

I took a shaky swig of champagne. I felt the orgasm receding, barely pulled back from the edge in time.

---

Fortunately, the rest of dinner and the start to dancing made it difficult for Madison to tease me further. There were comments -- references to my eruption problem, observations about what kind of dancing I liked best, questions about what kind of wedding night Grace would want, and so on -- but I could handle the comments. Grace, for her part, just seemed happy to sit and converse.

I was already trying to figure out what I'd do. The dance floor seemed like a prime place for Madison's teasing.

I wanted to prove her wrong, I realized. It was obvious she liked the idea of getting me off, making me lose control in some embarrassing way. I wanted to get through the whole evening and then turn her down, take Grace back to my hotel room. The satisfaction I felt at the idea -- the look on Madison's face that I could imagine as the two of us said farewell, her knowing that I'd picked Grace over her -- cemented it.

I just needed to try to get through the next few hours. I was resolved to try.

And oddly, over the next half-hour, Madison mostly left me alone.

Oh, she was there, of course. Sipping idly at champagne, making comments about the father-daughter dance, the first dance, and so on. But that was all.

And when the bride and groom asked everyone to join them on the dance floor, Grace eagerly slipped her hand through mine and pulled me away to dance. I turned to look back, catching Madison’s smirk as I passed. She lifted her glass in a little salute.

The first couple of songs were slow. Grace wrapped her arms around my neck, her body a polite distance from mine. I let my hands rest at her hips, trying not to be too familiar with someone who -- until this evening -- had only ever seemed like a friend.

We talked softly, words lost in the thrum of music and chatter. It felt almost normal, almost something we’d done before. But there was a different sense of promise, of possibility: in the way her waist felt under my fingertips, the way her skin smelled, the feel of her hand brushing the back of my neck.

And Madison had gotten me so close to finishing earlier that I found even this proximity to Grace had me mildly aroused.

"You know, Madison seems really nice. I'm glad you've got her as a friend." Grace murmured the words in my ear.

"Uh, yeah," I agreed. "Nice."

"I think she wants to see the two of us hook up," Grace's eyes were sparkling. "She's been trying to give me all kinds of pointers ever since the ceremony. And she's been hyping you up, too."

We waltzed around, and then Grace twisted in my arms, putting her back to my chest. We swayed together.

"Has she? You know, we don't have to-" I stammered the words out. The swell of her ass against my cock was distracting.

"Yeah, but...she didn't need to, Nate." Grace interrupted me, craning her neck to look back and up at me. "I...I've been wondering if we'd have, y'know, chemistry, for a while. I've been curious where this evening might lead, ever since I saw you in your suit before the ceremony began."

And then the music cut out. The lights dimmed further, almost gone; the DJ turned on some kind of strobing effect that only illuminated the dance floor in sputtering fits and starts.

New music kicked in. Not a slow waltz. A faster, throbbing beat. People cheered.

"Even if Madison has been a great wingwoman for me," Grace said, grinning up at me. "And actually, she did mention she thought you liked girls who knew how to have fun on the dance floor, so why don't we..."

Of course Madison had told her that.

And then we weren't swaying together anymore; instead, Grace was leaning against me and grinding her ass, sensually, into my groin.

Grace gave me a delighted smile. I smiled back, much more distractedly.

Jesus. That pert butt I'd admired so often over the course of the evening felt incredible, now, pressing rhythmically into my cock. I was hard again in moments, erection straining against my pants.

"You feel good," Grace half-shouted into my ear.

I grunted agreement, focusing on the sensations. After getting so close once already tonight, I could feel myself racing towards an orgasm. I was not going to have an accident with Grace on the dance floor. I'd dance with her a bit, then go to the restroom.

We finished that song, and Grace twisted, looking back at me. In the quiet beats before the next song began, she leaned in close, speaking right in my ear. "I guess Madison was right; you do like a girl who knows how to have fun on the dance floor. I can feel your cock. It's kind of hot."

The excited way she said it gave me goosebumps. I felt my cock twitch in response.

Grace just ran a hand through her hair, laughing at my openmouthed expression.

And then the music started up once more, another throbbing, fast, beat, and she twisted back around again.

She leaned forward, this time, arching her back. It put her butt right against my hips, and she was shimmying against me now. I could see her ass bouncing under her dress.

My cock surged. I didn't know where Grace had learned to move like this, but it was all too easy to imagine what it'd be like to fuck her from behind. It took all of my willpower not to grab her hair, her hips, anything that would let me just grind against her.

She twisted to look up at me, face flushed with wanton abandon. I was sure she could feel my hard length with each press of her ass against me.

And she liked it. The thought sent another twitch through my cock.

As she stood up again, leaning back into me, I leaned down slightly to whisper in her ear. "Hey, want to finish this dance and then get out of here?"

She bit her lip, hesitant. But then she nodded. "Y-yeah. That sounds great."

Fuck yes.

And fuck Madison, I thought, smugly. Her little game had backfired. So much for needing to make it the whole evening. I was going to take Grace back to my room tonight. Right now.

Grace gave me a sexy little smile, and then bent over once again, perhaps deciding that she was going to pack as much fun into the final dance as she could. She started grinding into me for all she was worth.

A few older couples nearby were giving us disapproving looks, but I didn't care. It was dark, we were leaving after this. I focused on keeping my breathing even. No accidents. Just another minute or two of this, and then...

And then Madison was there.

I could feel her soft body behind me, moving in time with Grace and my movements. Her breath tickled my ear. "Wow, who knew she could move like this, huh? One of those quiet girls who's a freak in bed, I bet. Probably loves taking backshots."

She said it all loudly to be heard over the music, but I doubted Grace could hear, bent over as she was.

I tried to ignore her, although hearing my own thoughts put into words somehow made it hotter. "We're leaving after this song," I said, twisting my head to meet Madison's eyes. I could hear the triumph in my voice.

"Think so?" Madison's response was sardonic.

Grace was still working her ass against me, oblivious.

I tried to focus on my breathing again, but the combination of Grace's body, and Madison's hands, roaming up my sides, made that impossible. Madison could move, too; she was gyrating against me, in sync with Grace's movements.

Then Madison leaned in, her lips just grazing my ear. “You really think you’re going to make it out of here without losing it?” she purred. “You’ve got to be so fucking hard, Nate. Poor Grace doesn’t know you almost came earlier during dinner. She must be about to make you cum in your pants.”

I could feel Madison’s tits pushing up against my back, her hands sliding slowly around my waist, fingers splaying possessively over my abdomen, just above Grace's butt.

Madison was right. I was trapped between the two of them, my senses overloaded—the pounding bass, the warmth of Grace’s ass rolling against my cock, the feel of Madison's breasts against me.

The beat slowed, midsong; Grace slowed with it, facing away from me, fully focused on the music. She was grinding back harder, her ass sliding up and down the length of my cock. Slow, deliberate. A slutty contrast to the childhood friend I knew.

I clenched my jaw, desperately trying to keep control of my cock.

“You're not going to get to fuck her, Nate,” Madison whispered. "And you're not going to get to fuck me, either."

As she spoke, she slid one of her hands around my wrist, and pulled it back around behind me and up -- right to one of her full, round tits.

I froze at the full sensation, the feel of her soft skin. Reflexively, I kneaded the mound of her breast.

Oh, god.

I was about to boil over. Slowly, she brought my other hand up and back, to her other breast.

The situation, the feel of their bodies, was overwhelming. I was squeezing Madison’s tits as Grace shoved her butt up against my hard cock.

"No fucking at all. You're just going to cum for us." Madison’s voice was low and urgent. “Right now.” She arched, pushing her tits into my hands.

I tried to reply, but the sensation had become too much. Grace’s round, full ass, warm and insistent against me, Madison’s voice in my ear, soft breasts in my hands.

I let out a shuddering gasp and bucked my hips against Grace.

My orgasm crashed over me, sudden and uncontrollable. My cock spasmed; I felt the first spurts of my orgasm jet into my boxers. The feeling of release was overwhelming; shame and pleasure tangled together. My legs trembled; I had to pull away from Madison's tits, grab Grace's hips to steady myself, helplessly bucking my hips into her as I spent my load.

Grace froze at the sudden change in my movements, sensing something was different. She straightened up, turning to look at me with a smile that turned quizzical when she saw the look on my face. Her eyes widened, and for a moment she just stared.

Then she stepped away, her mouth forming a silent oh of surprise.

Suddenly panicked, I tried to think of some excuse. A muscle spasm, a cramp, an awkward stumble or rolling of my ankle.

But I was still in the grips of my orgasm. I felt confused, feebleminded under the heavy haze of pleasure…and Madison reacted faster. 

She had stepped away from me before Grace had even turned around, moved to the side and then over towards Grace.

They exchanged a look, some flicker passing between them. Grace’s cheeks were flushed; she looked confused.

Madison leaned in. I couldn't hear her over the music, but the light strobed at the right moment; it let me see her lips clearly, made what she was saying unmistakable.

Oh my god. I think Nate just came in his pants.

Grace’s face twisted, half pity, half incredulity. She shook her head, maybe at me, maybe at Madison, maybe at the absurdity of it all. She turned away, marched off the dance floor.

I wouldn’t be taking her home after all, I suspected.

The song ended. The lights shifted. I took a shuddering breath, the evidence of my defeat sticky and hot against my skin.

The DJ's voice came on. "First bus to the hotel leaves in ten minutes! If you can't hang, you should start heading towards the doors!"

Madison gave me a cruel, satisfied smile. Grace was nowhere to be seen.

I should probably get on that bus.