Battle of the Banns

"True. So, did it come up?"

"The banns? Not at all. And with the men folk?"

"Call-me-Jack remarked that David was looking a little peaked, and advised him to save up his energy for his honeymoon. He and the Toddster got a good chuckle out of that. It's not patricide when you kill your father-in-law, is it?"

Val gives me a big smile.

"Still," I say, "we ought to tell them tomorrow, don't you think?"

"Tomorrow?" Val protests. "Tomorrow's the beginning of week two. No romantic touching. But if you're going to wimp out on me, we can tell them on Monday. I'll send 'em an e-mail. 'Oh, guys, I did a little more research, and it turns out I was wrong about those bann things. I'm soooo sorry.'"

"Yeah, I'll bet you would be."

By the time Saturday evening comes around, though, we're both feeling a little more charitable to Dave and Kendra. We're over at their place again, for supper, when the alarm on Kendra's watch – the cheap, wedding planner watch, not the expensive one she had worn to her parents – rings. She looks over at her fiancée.

"T-minus 336 hours, honey," she says.

Dave smiles back, and reaches his hand across the table for hers.

"Ahem."

Their hands inches apart, they both look over at Val, their eyes wide.

"Second bann," she says. She looks under the table.

"And I think romantic touching also includes footsie, at least in my view. What do you think, Matt? You were raised in the Catholic church, weren't you?"

"Oh, we frowned on any premarital footsie," I say quite seriously.

They start to look more and more distraught through the meal, however, and shortly after the dessert, I look over at Val, a questioning look on my face as I plead for them.

She smiles and nods. Before she can open her mouth, though, Kendra opens hers.

"Now let's take our coffee into the living room. We need to plan the wedding week, and then talk about your fitting for the new bridesmaid dresses."

"I'm sorry," Val says coldly. "The what?"

"You remember, silly. The other ones were all wrong for the wedding scheme. So we decided to go with these."

From the inches-thick wedding planner, Kendra pulls out a picture of a dress that even I can see will make Valerie Jones look like a purple dirigible with puffy sleeves.

"But, but . . ." Val sputters.

"I'm sorry," Kendra says with a giggle. "I can't believe I didn't tell you before. The seamstress just took your measurements and transferred them to this dress."

"But the other dress was beautiful," Val protests. "I looked great in it."

"You'll look great in this one, too," Kendra says. "As Felicity pointed out, we need to have dresses that not only complemented the wedding scheme, but that also contrast more with my dress."

Val looks over at me, her eyes narrow slits, and slowly shakes her head back and forth. I smile back at her; apparently we won't be telling them tonight.

"So you just need to go in tomorrow for one last fitting," Kendra assures her, completely oblivious to the look that has passed between us. "'kay?"

She is awaiting Val's answer, and Val finally manages to push a smile onto her face.

"'Course it's 'kay, Kendra," she says.

We spend the rest of the evening – every minute of it – receiving our marching orders for wedding week, which begins only a week from tomorrow. That's the day that Dave's parents, Mr. and Mrs. Whiting, arrive from California.

"So you can pick them up from the airport, can't you, Matthew?"

"We'll be happy to," Val says. She is as aware as I am that I have no car.

"And then dinner here for six," Kendra states firmly, making a note in her book.

"Probably seven," Dave whispers, nowhere near softly enough to prevent Kendra from hearing.

"Seven, David?" she asks, a quizzical look marring her porcelain features.

"I think Lucy's going to be able to come after all," he says.

"Little Lucy?" I ask. "She must be what, eighteen?"

"Twenty," Dave answers, with a glance that tells me to shut up. Oh, come on, I want to say, your fiancée can't possibly be jealous of your sister. I mean, it's not like you and your sister were . . . But then of course, I realize that that's not what would matter to Kendra. Lucy Whiting was a babe when I first met her, I guess at the age of fourteen. As a twenty-year-old, with that long, blonde hair and that beautiful smile, she could easily eclipse the bride, even in one of those new purple bridesmaid's jobs.

"I thought Lucy was a 'no,'" Kendra says with soft savagery. She pulls a list out of her wedding planner.

"Yeah, it turns out that modeling job fell through," Dave explains.

"They decided to get someone prettier?"

We were getting catty now. Even Val was squirming in her seat a bit.

"Someone less expensive."

"And where exactly are we supposed to seat her?" Kendra demands, pulling out yet another list. "This seating chart is completely full, David."

"Yeah, it turns out that Aunt Billie's not going to make it, so I figured that Lucy could just have her seat."

The plan is simply too sensible to permit objection, and Kendra finally decides that she has none. No legitimate objections, at any rate. She icily extracts a red pen and slowly replaces Aunt Billie's name with that of Lucy.

"I hope you will consult me next time as soon as you become aware of any other changes in the wedding arrangements." Kendra's voice has taken on a velvet softness that barely contains the fist within.

"Sorry, dear," Dave mutters.

Later that night, right before the eleven o'clock deadline at which the schedule requires us to leave, Val asks if Kendra and Dave would like either of us to spend the night, in order to make sure there's no romantic touching going on. Kendra makes clear that our presence is unnecessary, and on the way home we agree. There probably wouldn't have been all that much romantic touching going on tonight regardless of the banns.

Valerie is furious when she returns from her fitting on Monday morning.

"I'm going to look like a big, fat plum," she announces. "Even Jane – she was a suite mate sophomore year – is gonna look horrible in that. And Jane is a fox. I can't believe Kendra is dropping this shit on us at the last minute."

"Sorry," I say with as much sympathy as I can muster. We guys have it much easier. We pick the tux up; we look great; we return it."

"So what have you been doing?" she asks.

"Trying to find a stripper."

Val smiles.

"For the bachelor party?" she asks.

"Yeah. Originally, I was thinking of just going with the tape of Dave's old girlfriends, but now I think I gotta get the poor guy a stripper. But I haven't had any luck on the ol' World Wide Spiderweb."

She dug through her purse and pulled out a card.

"Here."

"Strip-Hers?"

"That's who I hired for Kendra's bachelorette party."

"Seriously? I thought that was all just talk. I thought that a bachelorette party was just a bunch of girls sitting around ragging on guys."

"Yeah, that's what the other two I've been to were. But can you imagine sitting around a bar listening to Kendra talk for three hours? Anyway, I think they also have . . . the kind of strippers you're interested in."

I make the call and learn that they do have a counterpart with girls, along with a website featuring pictures of the performers. Together, Val and I study them to decide which will be the best.

"That one." I point at one on the second page. "Anna."

"Really? You really think that she's the prettiest?"

"No," I admit. "I mean, there are five or six others that I guess most people would consider prettier."

"No shit. Like her. And her."

"But I like that one. And so will Dave. In fact, she reminds me of one of his old girlfriends. I had a bit of a crush on that one."

I pause, waiting a few beats to deliver the punch line.

"Right up until she figured out she was a lesbian."

It got the expected laugh, and before Val was able to get her breath back, I went for the kill.

"Yeah, she was the first one. Dave dated four girls in college, and two of them went over to the dark side."

Val is holding her stomach, desperately gasping for air.

"They're living together now, in fact. Kinda sweet, isn't it?"

"Stop it!" Val finally blurts out, slapping me on the arm.

"I have a tape of them making love. You wanna hear it?"

"Oh, get out," Val says, sobering up quickly.

"No, seriously. Dave actually ended up friends with all four, so I had them make a tape for his bachelor party. Linda and Ellen made theirs together, and well, one thing led to another . . ."

"Oh, God, that's priceless."

"That's what we do at bachelor parties. Embarrass the groom until he's ready to crawl back to the girl he loves and commit to her forever."

"Got it," Val says with another laugh. "And the stripper?"

"Frankly, it's just not going to take that long to embarrass Dave. So we might as well get some entertainment out of it. So you don't mind if I invite this girl over this week for, um, a preview, do you?"

"Oh, no. I already had Rolf here for a preview. I'll make popcorn."

Tuesday and Wednesday are two more unsuccessful days in search of an apartment. So on Wednesday afternoon, I take the two-bedroom. Now all I have to do is find a roommate.

Wednesday night we set aside for Anna, the stripper. She arrives dressed as a businesswoman, and Val is as taken with her as I am. There'll be no popcorn tonight. Instead, we sit next to each other on the couch and watch Anna go through her routine.

"Well?" she asks. The tape has ended and she's been standing in her final pose for the last thirty seconds. We give her another fifteen seconds before I clear my throat.

"Yes, well, that was, er, very entertaining. So you're free next Thursday?"

Anna slumps into the chair opposite the sofa.

"I'm always free," she says, shaking her head.

"Seriously?" Val asks. "But you're incredible."

"Thanks, hon." Anna gives her a genuine smile. "But you've seen the website. I'm not the best-looking girl on there. I don't get that many calls."

"But I'll bet you get every job you do get called for," I tell her.

"Yeah, actually I do." It's my turn to get the smile.

"Like this one. Here's the address and the time. I'll see you there."

"So you like the businesswoman?" she asks eagerly. "I can do others."

"That one's fine," I tell her.

"Like what?" Val asks.

"What do you care? You're not going to be there?"

I turn to Anna.

"She's running the bachelorette party the same night. With Rolf." I put Rolf's name in air quotes.

"Ooh, he's a hunk," Anna tells Val. "All the girls like him."

She is, somewhat incongruously for a stripper, blushing.

"Anyway," she rushes on, "we have a lot of costumes. The businesswoman is probably my best, though."

"I think it's great," I tell Anna. "And her opinion doesn't count."

Anna dresses and leaves, and Val starts slamming things around in her apartment, ostensibly cleaning it up. It's an odd behavior, particularly at this time of night, and finally I ask her to stop and sit down.

She sits on the chair and crosses her arms in front of her chest.

"I'm sorry," I tell her. "All I meant was that –"

"My opinion doesn't count," she huffs.

"Well, it's just . . ."

She continues to glare at me, daring me to tell her the reason.

"She a stripper!" I point out. "For a bachelor party! How would it look if the guys found out that you were the one who hired her?"

I can tell from the twitch in her mouth that she's softening.

"And anyway, you know you like her," I add.

"Not as much as you did," she shot back.

I smiled at her.

"I've always liked girls like that."

"Like what?" she asks suspiciously.

"You know, she knows she's not the most beautiful one, but she still has this incredible sexiness about her. So even if she's not the most beautiful, she's somehow the most attractive. And she has this way of looking at you, even when she's dancing that makes you feel that she wants you. Not that she wants you to want her, but that she wants you."

"I felt the same thing," Val says softly, with a shiver. "It was strange."

Kindred spirits.

"Excuse me?" Val asks.

"I didn't say anything," I say quickly. Did I?

"You said something," she says, waiting patiently for me to repeat it. I rack my brain, trying to think of something that I could have said at that point in the conversation that wouldn't get me into any more trouble. Finally, I give up and come clean.

"I said that you two were kindred spirits."

"How?" she asks, almost whispering. She is leaning forward in the chair now, as if I'm saying something very important. Perhaps I am. I look down at the coffee table between us and press on.

"Okay. First of all, I want to say how much I appreciate your letting me stay here and all for the past week. It's been great. You've been amazing. And when I told you that I like girls like Anna, the girl I had in mind was actually you."

"Me?"

It comes out like a breath.

"When this whole wedding thing is over, Val, I'd really like to get to know you better."

She takes two steps and vaults the coffee table, landing in a heap on my lap.

"You asshole," she says with a smile. "What makes you think I can last a whole 'nother week?"

She raises her face to mine, and we kiss. It is a slow, thirsty kiss, and when we finally pull back, each of us no more than a fraction of an inch, it is clear from the way her eyes gaze into mine that we are on the same course.

It begins on the couch, as I tug her blouse to one side and begin kissing the soft indentations of her shoulder. She runs her hands through my hair, and then pulls me back to her for an even deeper kiss, our tongues tasting each other. At the same time, our hands are occupied with each other's clothing, unfastening buttons, tugging at sleeves, pulling on zippers. When we are down to cotton and lace, though, Valerie suddenly stops me.

"What?" I ask her.

"Can we turn off the lights, please?"

"I guess. All of them? Why?"

She pauses half a beat too long.

"Because I like to do it in the dark," she finally says.

"You can't honestly think that you're not beautiful," I respond.

"Of course I can," she says, a flush rising on her skin. "I'm not."

"Of course you are," I insist. "You're gorgeous."

"Wait until the wedding," she says. "I'm gonna look like a little donut. And I'm sure these aren't the biggest you've ever seen."

"Maybe not," I answer, planting a kiss at the base of her neck. "You noticed that Anna's weren't that big, either, didn't you?"

"No." She squirms, ever so slightly, as I continue on down her chest.

"You little liar. I saw you looking at them when she finally took her hands away. They weren't big at all. But they were beautiful, just like yours."

"Matthew," she whispers. I unhook the clasp between the two cups, peeling each away in turn with my middle fingers pressed just to the outside of her quickly hardening nipples.

"You noticed how hard they were, didn't you?"

She doesn't answer. Instead, she finally allows herself to lean back, and allows me to make love to her. I slowly push the bra over her shoulders, pulling it down her arms, and then turn my attention to her white panties. I am in no hurry, and I slowly kiss my way south, taking particularly delight in her response to my attentions to the sensitive area just below her navel. She is writhing beneath me now, seemingly oblivious as I slide her panties over her hips and down her thighs. As I work them down off her feet, I push between her legs.

"How turned on she was by the thought of other people seeing her."

I kiss her thigh.

"By the thought of someone enjoying her."

With an exhalation of warm breath, I lift my head up and cross to the other thigh, sending shudders through her as the air moves across her wet, shiny slit.

"By the thought of someone wanting her."

She may be ready now, but I am not. I want the buildup to last as long as I can make it, so I begin alternating, first one thigh and then the other, kissing slightly higher each time.

"By the thought of someone loving her."

Now. I slowly dip my head, pressing the sides of her cleft between the length of my thumbs and exposing the engorged clit at the top. I suck it between my lips, and begin teasing it with my tongue.

"Oh, honey, yes," Valerie whispers, once again holding my head between her hands. She is a full participant now, propping her hips on her arms to hold herself off the couch. Her feet are on the small of my back, my upper arms trapped delightfully between her strong thighs. I continue loving her, wanting to bring her to at least one climax before I take my own selfish pleasure inside her.

We pause a little later, while I slide off my own shorts and slide on a condom, and then we reunite, my hard cock setting a slow, even pace inside of her. And as I gradually began to move more quickly, I feel her strong internal muscles clutching at me, willing me to release even as I am willing her to do the same.

When it ends, it ends together, and we collapse onto the couch, her head resting on my chest.

After we have been lying there for five minutes, she finally speaks.

"So, um, maybe you don't have to use the couch tonight, Matt."

********

Our love affair lasts for one glorious night. On Thursday, we find a frantic message from Dave on Val's answering machine after we return home from a late breakfast.

"Valerie," he says, his voice quavering ever so slightly. "I need you guys to come over here. Right now. This afternoon. This whole bann thing is really starting to get to Kendra, and I know she'll regret it if she doesn't manage to see it through. Please give me a call as soon as you get in."

"Sounds like we'd better let her off the hook," I tell Val as we head for the car.

Val slides her arm into mine as we walk.

"You're probably right," she says. "I shouldn't be the only happy girl in town, huh?"

When Dave lets us in their apartment, however, we find our plans changing once again.

I clap him on the arm as he closes the door behind us.

"So about this bann thing," I start.

He turns to me with an almost feral grin.

"Buddy, this is the best thing that's happened to me."

"The what?" Val asks. "But you haven't done it in, like, two weeks."

"Yeah," Dave says, with a look down the hallway. "Look, all this sexual compatibility stuff that Kendra was telling about. That works really well if you're Kendra. But if you're me . . . "

"David."

We were all looking down the hallway now. Kendra's throaty growl had sounded so un-Kendra-like that our heads all turned as one to identify the source.

"David! What the fuck?"

This time it was a scream, as Kendra is covering her completely shaved crotch with one hand and trying unsuccessfully to cover her chest with the other, even as she leaps back into one of the rooms.

"See," Dave turns to us with a whisper of exultation.

"So what the hell do you want us for?" I ask.

"To make it last another week. I mean, I really do love her, and like I said on the phone, I know how much it means to her to do this all the old-fashioned way."

"And of course, after another week of this . . ." I point out.

"Exactly."

Dave wipes the smile off of his face as Kendra emerges from the back dressed in a full-length robe.

"I am so embarrassed," she says. "I cannot believe that David didn't tell me we had visitors."

"Oh, well, we just dropped in to see how you were holding up," Val says. "And I think we're going to have to advance the timetable a little. I think we're going to have to move in right now."

"I don't think so," I say.

"Yes, you do, Matthew," Val says. "You're the best man, after all. I'm sure you only want what's best for the bride and groom."

I give her as dirty a look as I'm capable of. By the end of the afternoon, though, I am lugging my suitcases over to Dave and Kendra's to act as chaperone, charged with enforcing the second bann. On Saturday, Val will move in as well.