I keep running into my old classmate Julie at weddings.

It wouldn’t be that weird if we hung with the same circles, but we lead very different lives. Julie’s always been a wholesome good girl — volunteering abroad, running 5Ks for charity — and I’m tattooed, pierced, and mainly interested in misbehaving. In the ten years since high school, I’ve only seen her at weddings. She’s usually a friend of the bride, and I’m normally a friend of the groom, although sometimes we mix it up. We’ve attended eight weddings in the last decade. It’s gotten so ridiculous that when we see each other across the aisle, we roll our eyes.

My friend Matt recently got married to his gorgeous wife, Kayla. I met Matt at college, where we tore shit up and got smashed most nights, although he’s settled down since then. He met Kayla on a blind date, and they’re blissfully happy together.

I was the best man at the wedding. At the rehearsal, I was not shocked to see Julie approaching with the bride. Julie’s long hair was pulled up in a high ponytail, and she was dressed in a killer sundress that showed off her tanned legs. We shook hands and managed to maintain straight faces as Kayla introduced us to each other as the maid of honor and best man.

The wedding was held the next day at a lakeside hotel. The ceremony went off without a hitch, and Julie and I sat next to each other at the reception that night. While everyone else danced and made tearful speeches, Julie and I spent the night chatting about life and our memories of high school. I was surprised at how funny she was. I remembered her as a super-hot but tragically earnest do-gooder, but she had a wicked wit.

Four drinks in, I asked Julie what I’d wondered for ages. “Why do we always run into each other at this shit?”

She laughed. “Apparently we’re both far more popular as adults than we were in high school.”

Julie had never hung with the popular kids, but she’d been class president, for fuck’s sake. “Are you kidding me?” I asked. “You were in every club.”

She giggled. “I hate to tell you this, but being in Student Senate, choir, and poetry club didn’t exactly make me cool.”

“Yeah, but you were way cooler than me. I just smoked and cut class. I’m amazed you even remember me.”

She blushed and I leaned in, wanting to know why her cheeks had turned that shade of red. “I remember you,” she said.

“Yeah?” I eyed her up and down, my eyes fixating on her phenomenal rack. I’d been extremely aware of her hotness in high school, but she’d been so far removed from the kind of girls I hooked up with that I’d known I had no hope. “What do you remember?”

“You were intimidating. The punk vibe, the tattoos, smoking weed behind the gym. I don’t know. I thought you were a badass.”

I laughed at the thought that anyone had considered gangly, awkward 16-year-old me a badass. “Well, I thought you were damn near untouchable. Way too sweet to have anything to do with a guy like me.”

I jumped when her hand landed on my thigh, and my cock immediately started hardening. She licked her lips. “I’m not that sweet,” she whispered. “And I’m not untouchable, either.” She winked and stood up before making her way toward the glass doors leading outside. I watched her walk away, riveted by the swish of her hips. She looked over her shoulder and crooked a finger as if inviting me to follow her.

I didn’t need to be told twice. I chugged the rest of my drink, pushed back from the table, and followed her. It was cool outside, where a long hill sloped down toward the lake. Julie was standing on the dock, looking like an angel in the moonlight.

I joined her and rested my hands on her hips. “Why’d you bring me here?” I asked, hardly daring to believe that I had my hands on her for the first time in over a decade.

She laced her arms around my neck and moved closer, pressing her breasts against my chest. “I see you at all these weddings, and it drives me nuts. I had the biggest crush on you in high school, but you never seemed to notice me.”

“Oh, I noticed you.” I’d been obsessed with her preppy little skirts and that good-girl vibe that made me want to be very, very bad.

“I gripped her hair, watching those red lips swallow me.”

“I Googled you after the last wedding and realized we went to the same elementary school, too. We were pretty close back then.” She pulled her phone out of her purse. “Check this out.” She unlocked it and showed me a picture of two little kids in wedding attire.

“Holy shit,” I said. Because that was a five-or six-year-old Julie in a fluffy white dress, and her pint-sized groom was me. “No way.”

She laughed and tucked the phone back in her purse, then dropped the purse on the dock and wrapped her arms around me again. “I asked my mom. We were fake-married in kindergarten.”

“That’s fucking nuts.”

She rubbed against me, grinding herself against my stiff cock. “So I figured it’s a sign. We used to be fake-married, and now we keep meeting at weddings.”

“Whoa. Hold up.” She wasn’t going somewhere super crazy with this, was she?

She rolled her eyes at my obvious panic. “Calm down. I’m not proposing to you. I just figure that if we keep reconnecting at weddings, it’s a sign.”

“Of what?”

“That I should fuck you at a wedding. I’ve been fantasizing about it for years.”

My jaw dropped. “You have?”

She nodded. “I’ve thought about fucking you in the bathroom, under the gift table, on the dance floor, between the pews, you name it.”

It was all I needed to hear. I leaned in and kissed her, and she kissed me back passionately.

We made out like enthusiastic teenagers, sliding our hands over each other and grinding. Her breasts and ass were perfect, and the little moans she made in her throat were driving me nuts. Then she slid the zipper of my slacks down and dropped to her knees. Before I knew it, she had my pants and boxers at my ankles and her mouth around the head of my cock. She slid all the way down the shaft until the tip of my dick bumped the back of her throat. She pulled back slowly, then took me deep again. I gripped her hair, watching those red lips swallow me. She was amazing at giving head.

If she didn’t stop soon, I was going to come in her mouth. I grabbed her hair and pulled her off my dick, then pushed her onto her back. I tugged her skirt up over her hips, revealing white panties. I slid them off and put them in my pocket for safekeeping, then admired the sight of her bare pussy in the moonlight.

I traced a finger over her slit, then pushed inside. She moaned and arched her back, so I added a second finger before dropping down to lick her clitoris. I sucked, licked, and nibbled, and she writhed as her clit grew stiffer under my tongue. Her high heels dug into my back, and soon she was bucking against my face. She gripped my hair, shoving me harder against her pussy, and I eagerly ate her up.

“We were face-to-face, breathing hard, and I kissed her deep while my dick pumped in and out of her.”

She shoved me away suddenly. When I started to speak, she put a finger on my lips and shook her head. Then she turned over and pushed herself up on all fours. She looked over her shoulder at me, undulating her hips in invitation. “Fuck me hard,” she said.

Thankfully, I had a condom in my pocket. I unwrapped it and rolled it over my dick, then knelt behind her and positioned myself at her wet pussy. I slid in slowly. Normally I would go slower with a girl doing doggy with me for the first time — my dick is impressive — but by the way she was moaning and shoving back against me, I knew she liked it a little rough. I sank all the way in until our bodies were flush. She was so fucking tight, and then she squeezed her muscles around me and I damn near lost my mind.

I grabbed a fistful of her hair, then pulled out and thrust back in, hard and fast. She cried out, so I did it again, shoving my cock as deep as it would go in her clenching pussy. I fucked her hard on that dock, with the lights of the reception behind us and the lake smooth as glass in front.

When I could tell she was getting close to orgasm, I shoved her torso down so her cheek rested against the wood while her hips were in the air. She was completely at my mercy, her body open for domination, and her moans told me she loved every second of it. I held her down as I railed her, and I didn’t let up until she was begging me to let her come.

I reached under her hips and rubbed her clit. Then she came, her pussy clenching around my cock in little rippling waves while she screamed and pounded her fist against the dock.

It wasn’t enough. I pulled out and flipped her over, then plunged back in. We were face-to-face, breathing hard, and I kissed her deep while my dick pumped in and out of her. She was gasping and bucking against me, so I shifted until I got the right angle to rub her clit with every thrust. Her head thrashed on the deck, and when she came again with a ragged scream, I felt like a god.

She sank her nails into my ass and pulled me into her, and I lost it. I hammered into her, and when she squeezed that strong pussy around me, I shuddered and came hard. My vision went black at the edges.

When I could see again, Julie was grinning up at me. “Best wedding ever,” she said. “How soon can we do it again?”

We had sex two more times that night and again at a wedding the weekend after. I have her phone number now, and that “good girl” has a filthy mouth and an even dirtier imagination. I don’t know if it was fate, but the little girl I fake-married in elementary school just invited me to go wedding-crashing with her next weekend.