THE FATHER OF THE GROOM The pretty young brunette was alone at table in the hotel's lounge. She was dressed casually, in blue jeans and a white sweater. She was nursing a glass of white wine, and plucking distractedly at the arm of her chair. She hadn't seen the glamorous blonde approach, and looked up in surprise when she spoke. "I'm sorry sweetie, I didn't mean to startle you," said the elegant woman. She was dressed in a chic black business suit. "I was just wondering if you'd mind if I joined you. Men always seem to hit on me in hotel bars." "Um, sure. Have a seat," offered the twenty-something brunette. "Thank you darling," replied the blonde sliding smoothly into a chair. She offered a black leather-gloved hand. "I'm Victoria Fox." "Elizabeth Davis," returned the young lady. "At least until tomorrow. I'm getting married." "Well no wonder you seem distracted, you must have a lot on your mind. If you'd prefer to be alone…" "No, that's ok," insisted the soon-to-be bride. "I wouldn't mind a little company. I'm a bit nervous," she admitted. "That's quite understandable," sympathized Victoria. "Marriage is a big step. Are you in love?" "Oh yes," replied Elizabeth quickly. "My fiancée is a wonderful man. It's his family I'm a little worried about." "Do you not get along with his parents?" "To be honest, I've never met them. His mom died a few years ago, which is how we met. My parents died when I was younger and we were both in the same support group." "Oh you poor thing." "It's alright. It was quite a long time ago. Anyway, David, that's my fiancée, his father is very rich and somewhat of a recluse. He's going to be giving me away tomorrow, but I won't even meet him until the limo ride to the church. It's picking him up on the way." "That is a stressful situation," agreed Victoria. "Let me buy the bride to be a drink." She signaled to get the waitress' attention and she came over. "Champagne," she ordered. "We're celebrating." Elizabeth tried to protest, but her charming guest wouldn't hear of it. Soon the two women had glasses of bubbly in front of them. "A toast," declared Victoria. "To marriage. And to rich father-in-laws." Elizabeth giggled a little at what she thought was a joke. They clinked glasses and drank, the bubbles tickling her nose a little bit. The lovely blonde woman was staring at her quite intently. "You're very beautiful," Victoria told her. "You'll make a lovely bride. Is your dress here?" "It's upstairs in my room. Would you like to see it?" she asked excitedly. "That would be divine darling," purred Ms. Fox. She drained her glass and her young companion did the same. They got up from the table and Elizabeth almost fell over. Victoria managed to grab her arm and hold her up. "I think somebody had too much champagne," she chided, gently supporting the liquid-limbed brunette. "Or perhaps it was the sleeping draught I put in her glass," added the waitress as she came over. She was an alluring brunette, similar in build and features to Elizabeth. Her nametag read `Morgan'. "Let's get our little sleepyhead up to her room Morgan," suggested the blonde. "I bet you'll look scrumptious in her wedding dress. Although your tits are a little bigger, you'll just have to squeeze them in." Elizabeth realized that something was wrong. She tried to shout, but her mouth wouldn't cooperate. The two women were on either side of her, half-walking, half-dragging her towards the elevator. A uniformed hotel employee approached them and she wanted to scream for help. "She's had a little to much to drink," she heard Victoria explaining to the gentleman. "We're going to put her to bed." Then she was in the elevator, the doors closing. After an eternity they opened again. They dragged her out and down the hall. She knew that if they got her in the room that she could be in big trouble. The young woman valiantly gathered her strength and wrenched away from their grip. She managed to take three faltering steps before collapsing to the floor. Through her narrowed, blurred vision she saw the blonde femme fatale's stiletto heels approach. The fallen girl saw her kneel down next to her. Her beautiful face had a slightly disapproving smile, as if a small child had disappointed her. The woman's hand came toward her face. She was holding a small perfume spray. She tried to move her head away, but couldn't. A pink mist enveloped her, surprisingly sweet at first, then sickeningly sweet. Darkness descended. James Tuttle admired the Asian, uniformed limo driver who opened the rear door for him. She was quite a looker. He might try to get a piece of that later. The exact reason he didn't want David to get married. There were so many women, why settle for just one? And besides, they all wanted one thing – money. The boy had never been the same since his mother had died. Oh well, he'd learn. But since today was the boy's first wedding he would play the good father. Straightening his tux, he climbed into the limo to meet his imminent daughter-in-law. He had seen pictures, but they didn't do her justice. She was a gorgeous brunette, with deep come-hither eyes and a full, sensual mouth. She also had a rack that barely fit into the tight, white satin bodice of her wedding dress. Maybe the boy wasn't so foolish after all. He settled in on the girl's right, both of them facing forward. "Hello," she said, smiling and extending a white satin-gloved hand. "You must be Mr. Tuttle. I'm Elizabeth Davis. Well Elizabeth Tuttle almost." "It's a pleasure to meet you Elizabeth," he replied, returning the smile. "And please call me James." "Thank you James." She flashed her million-dollar smile. "I hope you don't mind but I've ordered the driver to take her time getting to the church. After all, we really should get to know each other a bit before I steal your son. And besides, the bride is supposed to be fashionably late." The wealthy fifty-four year old investment banker was thoroughly charmed by the lovely young lady. He could barely take is eyes off of her delectable tits, straining against the silky white fabric of her dress. Her nipples were quite noticeably hard. A familiar, uncomfortable stirring in the front of his pants told him that he was becoming so as well. "Champagne?" she offered handing him an already poured glass from the limo's bar. "I don't usually drink this early in the morning, but I'm a little nervous." "Thank you," he said, taking the glass. "To my new daughter," he toasted, raising his glass. "I'm sure you will make my son very happy." "Oh, I intend to," cooed the dark-haired vixen sexily. They both drank and `Elizabeth' put her glass aside and grabbed her sequin-studded purse. "I'm just dying for a cigarette," she said, pulling out a silver cigarette case. "I told David I quit but I still sneak one on the side sometimes," she confided in a conspiratorial whisper. "Don't worry, I won't tell," winked James as he brandished an expensive gold lighter. The flirty femme accepted a light and sent a smooth stream of smoke towards the ceiling of the limo. She fixed her older companion with a sultry stare. "I'm glad. There are some things that husbands just don't need to know about." The elder Tuttle, an unabashed womanizer, was stunned. This woman, who was just minutes away from marrying his son, was coming on to him. Most men might have given the girl a sound talking to and forced their son to call off the wedding. But not James Tuttle. He didn't become rich by not taking advantage of opportunities. He was about to compliment the girl on her beauty when she looked into her still empty purse and sighed. "Darn," she exclaimed. "I forgot to have my dresser put my garter on for me." She pulled a white satin and lace garter out of her purse. It was festooned with tiny baby-blue flowers. "You wouldn't mind putting this on for me, would you daddy?" she cooed, batting her eyelashes at him. Her voice was rich with sensuality, and she made the word daddy sound especially… dirty. She extended her right leg and pulled up the skirt of her gown. Under the seemingly never-ending layers of tulle, her shapely legs were encased in white stockings. Wordlessly, he took the garter from her and removed her white satin pump. Ever so slowly he began to slide the pretty, feminine item up her leg. "Ummm, higher," she urged as he reached her knee. "Higher James, oh that's nice." His hands had reached the smooth skin above her stocking and they didn't stop there. An instant later James Tuttle discovered that his soon to be daughter-in-law wasn't wearing any panties. Their eyes met and she took a long, slow drag on her cigarette, exhaling luxuriantly. "Have you ever licked a bride's pussy on her wedding day James?" she asked without a hint of bashfulness. "I think I'm about to," he replied moving to his knees in front of her. He looked back towards the front of the limo and saw the exotic Asian driver eyeing them in the rearview mirror. He was about to hit the button to close the partition when the `bride' stopped him. "It's sexier with her watching, don't you think?" James was in no position to argue, so he allowed the brunette to guide his head toward her cunt. The skirt was massive and it took some maneuvering, but soon he was in position to pleasure her. Her stockinged thighs rubbed against his clean-shaven cheeks as he began to tongue her. The girl let her skirts settle over him, encasing him in near darkness, as she settled back into the seat to enjoy his efforts. He was so intent on his not unpleasant activity that he didn't even realize that the limo had stopped. He also couldn't see that `Elizabeth' (who was actually Victoria Fox' vixen Morgan) had pulled a tiny remote from her purse. "I'd love to let you finish James, but alas it's sleepy-bye time for you," she cooed and pressed a button. Her flowered garter began to hiss, emitting a silvery-blue fog of sleeping gas. James heard the hissing, but by then it was much to late. The candy-sweet fragrance made him lightheaded and dizzy. He tried to escape from his fluffy prison, to get some precious air, but was trapped between silky thighs and under a mountain of tulle. Ms. Fox climbed into the car as her trick gas-garter continued to billow forth clouds of silken dreamland, some beginning to drift up from under the skirt. The millionaire banker had become quite still. Morgan lifted her dress to expose the sleeping fool to her Mistress, releasing a cloud of gas that had been trapped under the skirt. The gas being excreted out of the flowers on the garter had slowed to a trickle. Morgan reached down and pushed the lecherous dad from between her legs. He rolled over onto his back, eyes closed and a peaceful look on his sticky, powder-streaked face. "They look so peaceful when they're sleeping, don't they Morgan?" Victoria commented, sliding her customary victory cigar from the pocket of her fur coat. "He drooled all over my pussy," complained the brunette. "And he wasn't much better when he was awake." "Oh, poor Morgan," cooed the blonde breathily. "I think you deserve this," she continued, handing the girl her freshly lit cigar. "And this." Her head moved down between her vixen's thighs.