Erica's Big Day Ch. 01

"So today you get to marry your Mr Big," Helen was saying. "Your fairy-tale's complete."

"And exactly how big is he?" Camille inquired wickedly.

"That's for me to know," Erica replied with mock-primness as her lashes were defined. Plenty big, she thought to herself, a very nice fit. He could do more with it admittedly, put some more power behind it, but she could sort that out starting tonight.

And then it was time to don the dress. Erica's heart fluttered. She was on her way to her parents' room to be robed when the knock came at the front door.

"Who can that be?" her mother said, frowning.

"Probably the limo company an hour early and charging for it," her father responded from the kitchen.

"Keith, stop it, I've had enough. This is Erica's day. It's her day and nothing's going to spoil it. Not even you."

"I'll get the door." Helen had intervened, as the other girls accompanied Erica into the bedroom. A moment later the chief bridesmaid put her head around the door. "Erica, it's for you."

"For me?" She had no clue as to who might be visiting unannounced on the morning of her wedding. Still wrapped in her terry-robe she went to investigate and was shocked to find her ex-boss, the man she had been dating those few months back, standing tall in the vestibule. He was accompanied by a young woman, presumably his date for that day.

"Gavin?" Her heart fluttered anew and she was rendered strangely breathless. This man she had expected to locate among the congregation later on, not to be confronted with him so dramatically in her parents' home. His imposing frame was clad in an impeccably-tailored black tuxedo, set off with a pristine white handkerchief and matching carnation. His grey-flecked dark hair was immaculately waxed and the spice of his after-shave wafted over her.

In that moment he looked every inch a bridegroom. The thought struck Erica with force. The fact that he was not alone sparked an unaccountable burst of jealousy. "I wasn't expecting you," she said, her voice faltering.

"Sorry to intrude," he said to the entire assembly, "I know you must all be furiously busy. Only I never did get around to passing on my wedding gift to Erica, pressure of work and all that." He was holding, Erica finally observed, a large carrier bag. "I'll leave it with you and see you all at the church." His winning smile was directed primarily at Erica's mother, who seemed taken off-guard by the good-looking stranger in her hallway. Camille and Kate had taken note of him too, having returned from the bedroom at the sound of his bass voice.

"You and your friend won't stay for a coffee, Mr...?"

"McClain, please--call me Gavin. Erica worked for me a short while back. And much as I'd like to stop in your beautiful home, Mrs Greendale, I really don't want to impose in the middle of all your preparations. Let me drop this off. I must say, Erica..." He turned to her with a look that reminded her of the most poignant moments she had shared with him during their involvement. "... Stephen's a very lucky man. You look stunning already."

"Doesn't she?" the girl at his side concurred warmly. She was slight in comparison to her massive companion, but had an air of self-possession about her. Her dirty-blonde tresses fell like a sheer waterfall down her back and her pale-yellow summer dress showed off a neat figure with breasts markedly large on her slim frame. "I'm sure you'll look amazing in your bridal gown, I can't wait to see it."

Despite Gavin's overwhelming presence Erica found herself disarmed by the girl's sweetness. "Thank you," she all but simpered. "Let me take the gift. It's... It's such a lovely thought."

Mrs Greendale was on the verge of swooping in, but Helen interrupted her. "Erica, why don't the bridesmaids get changed while you show Gavin and..."

"Clementine." Gavin's date smiled prettily.

"... And Clementine around the gift room, and then when you're done, we'll help you with your dress. Okay?"

"Ehhh... Yes, yes of course. Why don't you both come with me?" Erica was taken aback at being asked to play host to her ex-not-quite-boyfriend and his new companion, but did not want to appear rude. Her mother was expressing concerns about time and the appropriacy of Erica's state of dress, but Helen reassured her, telling her how Gavin had been a good friend to Erica, how nice it was that he had made the effort. And so the bride found herself in the spare bedroom, the one designated for every dinner-set, toaster and candelabra that had been given, with the handsome man she had passed on in favour of Stephen and his date for the day. It all seemed most unorthodox.

"There was really no need," she said, more than a little flustered as she drew a hefty flat package wrapped in patterned silver paper. "It's very good of you, Gavin."

"There was every need," he told her, as Clementine pored over the china and bed linen on display, cooing at anything she found beautiful. "This is a morning I wouldn't have missed for the world. You mightn't believe me, but I've been looking forward to today immensely. You're a special girl, Erica. I want to see you have the wedding day you deserve. Please, open the package."

Erica prised open the wrapping at one end. Her cheeks burned and she wondered what young Clementine might make of her date's solicitous attentions to the bride. Maybe the jealousy she had felt in the hallway was being returned, although the young blonde did not show it. "It's... It's lovely of you to say that, Gavin," Erica replied to her ex-boss. "It means so much. This means so much. I wasn't sure you'd even accept the invitation, but Helen insisted that I... Oh my, what a lovely spice rack."

"You can be a proper domestic goddess now," Clementine quipped, and Erica smiled along with her. Yes, she was glad Gavin was with someone, even if the girl did seem a few years younger even than her and not quite suitable for such a robust male.

"There's something else I have to show you." Gavin was dipping into the carrier bag again, drawing out a slim electronic tablet. Erica looked on in sudden bemusement as he set it up on top of a sandwich toaster box on the bed. "The other part of your surprise. You'll find this interesting." He was opening up a window on the tablet and pressing Play.

"What is it?" She peered at the screen, baffled by what he could possibly have to show her. Some sort of testimonials from the company perhaps?

The images on the screen were of her--a montage of photo-stills and cine-footage, demonstrating her progress from childhood through teen years to adulthood. There she was splashing among the waves on a beach holiday. Now tearing open presents at a family Christmas. High-kicking in a school-play dance routine. Cavorting with student-friends in a Spanish tavern. All set to Cyndi Lauper's Girls Just Wanna Have Fun.

"Where did you get this?" she asked in wonder.

"Stephen put it together," Gavin explained casually. "He's arranged to have it screened at the reception this evening, a loving tribute to his radiant bride. Quite a nice editing job he's had done, don't you think? Now keep watching."

"But..." Erica remained nonplussed, but looked on intently. The single-girl sequence was moving on to her time with Stephen, Cyndi Lauper melting into Seal's Kiss from a Rose--their special song. Grown-up Erica was posing on Brighton Pier, toying playfully with an ice-cream cone and laughing. She remembered the surprise weekend early in hers and Stephen's courtship; she even recalled him cajoling her into performing for the camera. There she was again, being fed grapes by the camera-holder on a picnic in the Lake District. And the two of them filmed dancing on a restaurant patio in Greece, from the holiday they had shared with his friends Derek and Michelle. Beautiful memories all, but... "Why have you got this? And why are you showing me? I mean if it's meant to be a surprise?" She felt genuine consternation now. Why the hell was Gavin pre-empting Stephen's gift to her?

"I know the guy who did the editing," Gavin explained in the same relaxed tone. "Good friend of mine. He's in charge of shooting all today's footage as well."

"Right, Scott Anderson," Erica said. Her confusion was increasing by the second, spiked with a hint of fear. "I heard about him, I recommended him to Stephen." She looked to Gavin for further explanation.

"Now this next part you really want to watch." There was an edge of enjoyment to his voice that made her fix on the screen in trepidation. She did not even know why her heart was thumping--like it had when she first awoke that morning. Clementine, she realised, was leaning into the screen beside her to take a good look.

The image changed abruptly. Erica's extended slow-dance with Stephen on the Greek patio switched to another dance entirely. It was from her hotel-suite hen-night, a part of the evening of which she had absolutely no recollection. She was in the daring, curve-clutching white dress she had worn for that evening, mock bridal-veil thrown back from her face, the traditional bride-to-be Learner plate hung around her neck. And she was sandwiched between Robbie and Zach, the two muscled dancers, both stripped down to a thong.

Robbie was behind her; she was grinding into his crotch, her arm hooked back around his neck, her own neck offered up to his exploring mouth. At the front Zach had his legs astride her, one hand gripping the small of her back, his well-packed thong crushed close to her loins so he could ride the waves she was creating with her pelvic undulations. The Seal track had been replaced by hard-pounding gangsta rap, not overlaid onto the visuals this time, but blasting out in the hotel room as the boys' own accompaniment of choice. It was eminently clear from the bridal hen's face that she was revelling in the experience. As Zach pushed aside the L-plate to paw at her bosom, then as he slid the dress-straps away from her shoulders so he could tug down the top and grope her naked tits unimpeded, she made no effort to stop him.

Erica's hand rose involuntarily to her mouth, her mind seizing with horror. "Oh my god... Oh my god, where did you get this? I don't even remember..."

"It gets so much better," Gavin promised, as he loomed behind her, his hand gentle on her back.

The action cut to something horribly worse. The camera was close in, capturing Erica on her knees before one of the strippers, whose thong had been pulled down about his thighs. Her globed breasts were on display as she clutched his buttocks and fellated him lustily. Clementine was homing in closer on the screen, apparently fascinated, gasping to see Erica's full-lipped mouth sucking busily on the thick shaft. "God, sweetheart, you look so hot," she was saying in awe.

The camera shot pulled out as shaven-headed Zach clasped Erica's head and began to draw her smoothly back and forth on his length. He grinned round at the camera, loving his amateur porn-star status. Blurry in the scene's background was Helen, but she was paying no attention to the main action, draped unconscious as she was over a couch. "This one's really learning now," Zach was telling the lens gleefully, "getting trained up for hubby. He's going to be one lucky bastard..."

"Doesn't get much better than face-fucking the bride, does it, mate?" Robbie was speaking now from behind the camera.

"Fucking right," Zach replied with conviction, as he thrust deeper into Erica's mouth. "I never say no to a bridesmaid, but getting head from the bride's a special perk. Are you going to give my friend here some of this too, babe?"

Erica watched in advanced mortification as her on-screen self gazed up and nodded, mouth still stuffed with cock, eyes wide and eager. Both of wedding-day Erica's hands were now clasped to her face; she could feel the burn of the emotion which suffused it. Her eyes were welling with tears. Still she remembered nothing and could not believe what she was witnessing. It was as though her most secret fantasies had been ripped from the depths of her mind and projected onto the screen, each image more dreadful that the last. Another edit landed her between the strippers, masturbating both their sizeable erections, alternating her mouth greedily between the two big-bulged ends. The camera was steady, Robbie having apparently positioned it so that the lens could take in everything.

"Come on, that's it girl, take it deep," blonde-haired, muscled Robbie was encouraging, his work-partner pressing Erica's head further down onto his shaft. "That's it, suck my fucking cock."

She returned to Zach of her own volition, desirous to share her hen-night favours equally between the two arrogant young studs. Then she sucked and wanked him hard, until he grabbed her hair and thrust his dick deep into her mouth, crying out climactically. Her cheeks bulged and she choked in surprise, cum spurting out over her chin and splattering onto her tits.

The vision was horrendous--some terrible violation of her beautiful day that Erica could not comprehend. She could not quite accept it was real. "This didn't happen. You've made it up."

"I'm sorry?" There was amusement in Gavin's voice.

"It's a computer trick. It's some sort of high-tech morphed... animation thing! You can do that stuff, it's part of what the company does, right?"

"Oh I don't think there's a technology known to man that can reproduce that level of female abandon," he said. "I'm sure if you think hard enough, Erica, the memory's still there." As he spoke and as she watched, there was no further denying. The first-person point-of-view was leeching its way fully from her subconscious and she could feel the hotel carpet under her knees, the hard cock-shafts in her hands, that short-lived sense of base slutty liberation. It had all been very real. And oh God help her, she had loved it.

She wrenched herself away from the horror-show (Robbie was wanking himself off in her face now, releasing great gouts of semen all over her forehead and the bridge of her nose so that it rivered down onto her cheeks), and stifled her sobs with a clenched fist. Behind her she could hear Gavin pack away the tablet, his point made. Clementine was with her, stroking her arm solicitously, why she had no idea. "It's okay babe, it's okay." But it was very far from okay. It was all very fucked-up indeed.

Erica swung around to Gavin distraught, shaking Clementine off. She knew that someone could bustle through the door any second. "What are you trying to do? Why did you bring this here? Please, please don't let anyone see it, I beg you. Gavin, why are you doing this?"

Gavin stood before her, calm and inscrutable. "I should have thought that was obvious," he told her. "You made a promise to me, Erica, one that you broke, you remember? And I've come here today so that you can make good on it. It's a matter of your personal integrity."

"Promise?" She knew to what he was referring, but could not believe he was bringing it up. "I... But..."

"'I want you, Gavin,' that's what you told me that day. 'I'm going to come to your place tonight and let you make love to me.' Your words, Erica, I've never forgotten them."

Erica had not forgotten either, nor the way her whole being had thrilled at their saying, but to imagine them ever being thrown back at her in circumstances such as these... "I know I said that," she pleaded, "and I meant them. But then Stephen came back. I'd been in love with him before. Gavin, I am in love with him!"

"Didn't stop you sharing some of that love with your two dancer-friends," he pointed out, reasonably. "I'm not asking for a lifetime of devotion, Erica. Simply what you made clear you were going to give me that day. Some quality time balls-deep inside you."

Erica was aghast, nearly frantic. The room seemed to be closing in, she was sure she was about to faint. Clementine caught her arm and steadied her, brushing her hair consolingly. "But it's my wedding day! You can't do this to me today of all days."

"Ah, but that's what makes it so perfect for your act of atonement. Darling, I want to be the first man to fuck you on your wedding day. I want mine to be the first cock thrusting deep inside the new Mrs Erica Laughton." His hand, she noticed, was stroking leisurely up and down the crotch of his trousers. "And if I don't get my way, then the version of the movie you've just witnessed will be the one that gets screened this evening." He was rubbing himself more smoothly now, and dimensions that alarmed her were making themselves apparent beneath the fabric. "Imagine that, Erica. Stephen's romantic surprise all lined-up and ready to play for the assembled guests. If that doesn't make it Wedding of the Year, I don't know what will."

"I'll stop it. I won't let it be played." She could see the stupidity of her words even as she spoke them.

"And you'll explain that how? You're not even supposed to know about the film. They'll think you're crazy."

Sheer desperation screamed in her head. "Well... Well then I'll postpone the whole thing, I'll say I'm ill."

"And break poor Stephen's heart? Make him think you're jilting him? Send home all those guests with your father having paid for the whole event? No Erica, your marriage to the love of your life is going ahead. And if it does stop for any reason, I'll distribute copies of the disc around your family and friends anyway."

"You can't do this, Gavin, it's... it's..."

"This is me, doing it."

"But..."

"Okay, that's enough. I can't explain myself with you talking all the time." Irritation had rippled Gavin's calm for the first time. "Clementine, check the door. Make sure no one comes in." Dutifully, the girl went to stand sentry. Chatter was filtering in from not far down the hallway, fuelling Erica's panic. "Now, take off the robe," her persecutor instructed her.

Any sophistication she might have felt ten minutes before had been ruthlessly stripped away, even before the robe dropped. Before this version of Gavin, Erica felt like a little girl. "Please... I..."

"Take it off, or I call everyone in and show them the film now." The apparent kindness which had softened those features in the past was now absent. His face was pure granite, his voice low but similarly hard. Forlorn she loosened the belt and let the dressing-gown fall away from her, exposing all that she had admired previously in the bedroom mirror.

"Oh... my," Clementine gasped, her vivid blue eyes opening wide. "She's delicious. I can so see why you want her. Can I touch?"

"Be my guest," Gavin said with magnanimity. "But lock the door first."

"Of course."

How they would explain a locked door should anyone come calling, Erica had no idea. She stood bewildered as the younger girl moved to her and ran a hand almost reverently over her taut stomach, then up over the steep slopes of her brassiere-cradled bosom.

"Erica, you're beautiful," Clementine moaned. "Your husband is going to be so lucky. Your skin's like porcelain. And your breasts... they're spectacular. Such pretty lingerie too, you really know how to make the most of yourself."

"All right, get down on your knees." Gavin cut through Clementine's worship of Erica's body. "Hurry up, girl. There's a wedding party out there. You want to keep everyone waiting?"

Erica wished she had more spirit, that she could think what else to say. All she could do was drop, till she was staring at whatever seismic shifts were occurring beneath the straining zipper of Gavin's trousers.

It was the subject of rumour at Rainbow Software akin to Arthurian legend--the mighty McClain sword. Everyone knew someone who knew someone who had claimed to have seen it in its erectile glory. While dating him Erica had been aware that something of might lurked beneath those elegant Italian trousers; she had contained the panicky thrills which occasionally seized her, consoling herself that should he introduce her to his mythical weapon, he would surely use it gently. Today she had no such consolation and every reason for fear. Gavin had been rubbing his crotch vigorously on her descent, priming himself; now he unclipped and unzipped, tore all linen coverings away and let Excalibur spring free.