Wedding Day Blues: 1

This is a lesbian erotica story, enjoy!

“Bang!” I jump, looking behind me.

My best friend, Joanna, eyes me as I stare at myself in the mirror, flipping her hair over her face.

She smiles, “You do realise it’s my wedding night, right?”

I turn swiftly, my hand resting on my hips as I glare at her. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

She laughs, quenching my anger instantly. “Meaning why don’t you come help me with my hair instead of primping yourself for Jimmy.”

“What? No! That’s not what I’m doing!” I scream as I feel my cheeks heat up. I murmured, “I was just checking for lint on the dress.”

I step toward Joanna, a smile forming on my face, as I look at her. She’s so beautiful today. Her white silk dress flowing around her shoulders and framing her lovely features.

I have to admit, she’s one of the most beautiful people I’ve ever met. “Where’s your hair stylist? I don’t want to spoil your hair, baby.”

“Don’t worry, you won’t,” she says as she pulls me closer, holding onto my waist for a brief second. It’s a quick hug, but my stomach drops at how turned on I get just from that little touch.

“Okay, okay. I’ll help you.” I smile at her, I’ve never been able to refuse her anything, especially not on a day as special as today.

Her long hair is flying in every direction, the wind from the early breeze this morning having ruffled up her hair. So this task is a little more daunting than usual.

“Okay, um, I’m just going to comb it out first, cause this is a hot mess.” I laugh as she hits me on the leg, a light tap, really.

I ignore the hard look she’s giving me, and continue, “Then you’ll tell me what you would prefer.”

I take the comb on the dresser, starting at the tips and working my way up to her roots. I apply hair lotion as I go, watching her brown hair get silkier with every brush and stroke of my talented fingers.

“Okay, I’m all done,” I say after a few minutes. She doesn’t answer.

“Babee, what style would you like?” She starts at my voice, picking up her phone and scrolling to a picture in her gallery. She holds the phone up to me, the hair is beautiful. It looks so regal, little curls dropping from the crown like design, making the whole thing look almost ethereal.

“Oh my! You’ll look gorgeous wearing this style,” I squeal.

And she smiles, almost sadly as she looks at me. “Yeah okay.”

“What? Why’d you look so down, babe?” I ask as I take her chin into my hand, caressing her lightly.

She sniffs, looking at the windows for a long moment before taking her eyes back to me. “What if Harry isn’t the one for me? Like, what if I’m making a mistake marrying him?”

What?

“But you know he’s the love of your life, babe. And he’s so sweet to you, too.” I ignore the way my heart’s beating faster at her words, and think about how I can make my best friend feel better right now.

My fingers tremble, and I try to muster up a playful smile and whisper, “You know you can always come marry me if it doesn’t work out between the two of you.” She laughs, her head falling back, and I’m grateful (just for a moment) that she can’t tell I’m dead serious right now.

Joanna and I have known each other since we were in diapers. Our moms were best friends who always took us on their adventures together, dragging us around Europe at some point for a stretch of at least four months.

Naturally, we became tighter than glue, doing everything together, going to the same high school and college. We even studied the same course, Accounting.

After a few years we started a small firm together and now, a few years later, that small firm has grown to be one of the best in the country. We make the best team.

I can’t imagine spending the rest of my life with anyone else by my side, and the way she laughs, head thrown back, just now had made me realise just how much I love listening to her laugh.

I can’t let her do this: marry Harry, who she met just a couple years ago on Tw*tter or something.

I have to at least tell her about my feelings for her, I realise how selfish this may be but I just can’t live like this anymore.

I stand and start braiding her hair for the crown-like updo. The first few steps are easy, tying her hair in little knots and making braids around her edges to form it.

“So…” I start, stepping closer and peering my voice, “I’d like to talk to you about something—later, not right now, babe.” I decide at the last second to hold myself back, I really shouldn’t do this to her ok today of all days. That would be so selfish.

“Okay,” she says slowly, turning to look at me. I shift her head back into the correct position, smiling at how innocent she looks right now.

“You’ve been the most important person in my life, Jo. I’m so grateful for all the years of friendship we’ve shared…”

I hesitate, thinking. “Seeing you on this your special day makes me so proud and happy for you.” I tug in her cheek and she leans into me softly, then continue speaking. “I just want you to know how deeply you’re loved—not just by Harry, but by me and everyone lucky enough to call you a friend.” I don’t even know where the words come from but I know it’s the right thing to do. I will hold off for today. A single year falls from my eyes, and I don’t wipe it off.

A knock sounds on the door and Marie, the hairstylist pokes her head in, looking sheepishly at the two of us. Her eyes widen.