>> Wedding Day <<

It's the day of your wedding. The man you're marrying doesn't deserve you, he's arrogant and I've seen the way he treats you like a servant. I'm convinced that he doesn't love you like I do, that to him, you're a trophy to be displayed in front of his friends and work colleagues, to be brought out and shown off at dinner parties and company functions. Needless to say, he's much older than you.

I'm watching you from across the street, watching your final preparations, trying not to be seen but hoping you'll look up and see me watching you. You look heartbreakingly beautiful in your white dress with flowers at your throat and in your hair. Simple, beautiful flowers, but even they are outshone by your radiance. I watch the young woman making final adjustments to your hair, daydreaming about the times I've felt those silky tresses brush my balls as you sucked my cock, remembering the way you always brush it out of your face when you ride my cock.

I look up from my reverie to find myself staring straight into your eyes, wide with shock, as you see me watching from across the street. You beckon to me and then turn and speak to the hairdresser, who leaves the room. I make my way to the hotel entrance, bypassing the front desk, and run up two flights of stairs to your room where you meet me at the door. You throw yourself into my arms, your mouth finding mine and we kiss passionately, tongues intertwined, arms wrapped around each other as we stagger into the room, pushing the door closed behind us. As we break for breath you tell me that the hairdresser, a friend of yours, has been asked to leave for an hour and come back at quarter past one, fifteen minutes before the ceremony to finish styling your hair, by which time I have to be gone. I can see traces of fear in your eyes, wondering what to do if your husband to be shows up, but I saw him and his cronies in the bar before I took up my vigil across the street. There's absolutely no chance that he's going to interrupt his congratulatory drinking session to walk up here.

I press you back against the wall, urgently lifting the hem of your wedding dress, bunching it around your hips as my hand slides between your thighs, finding the flimsy lace of the white g-string that barely covers the neatly trimmed pubic hair of your mound. I rub your pussy through the sheer lace fabric, pushing it between the plump lips as I roll and pinch your already swollen clitoris through the fabric. Your pussy juice begins to flow, staining the delicate lace between your thighs with your passion, making the fabric wet. My hand reaches around to the back of the g-string, twisting the thin strands around my fingers before jerking them hard and the fabric parts, allowing me to pull them off. I the g-string into my pocket, a memento of this day, that will remind me of you long after the wedding has taken you beyond my reach. I'm under no illusions that this will probably be the last time I see you. We may see each other in the street from time to time but we'll never have this time again, unless a miracle happens.

I drop to my knees, lifting one of your legs so that it rests on my shoulder and I place my face near your crotch, inhaling the sweet, heady musk of your cunt before I extend my tongue, clamp my lips over your pussy and begin to lick in long strokes, forcing my tongue deeper and deeper into your pussy, searching for the tiny entrance to your most intimate opening. My tongue finds what it's looking for and just the very tip penetrates into your peehole. Already panting from my licking you start to jerk as you feel my tongue violate such an intimate space. You come, panting breathlessly, flooding my mouth with your sweet juice, which drips from my chin to the floor. You're begging me to fuck you, whispering my name over and over again, urging me to slam my cock into you and I have no choice in the matter. I'm so turned on, my cock is throbbing painfully in my trousers and I unzip my jeans allowing my hardness to spring free.

Your hands find my belt, undoing it, unfastening the top button and then pushing my jeans down my legs in your rush to get me inside you. I lift your raised leg slightly so that rests over rmy arm as you grab my erect prick and rub it against the slippery lips of your pussy before pushing the head inside yourself. I thrust forward, burying my cock to the balls and then hook your other leg over my arm as well. You wrap your arms around my neck and your legs around my waist as I carry you with faltering steps to the bed. I fuck you hard and fast, and as I feel you building to your second orgasm I come, filling the tight spaces between your legs with thick, creamy spunk. Your pussy spasms, locking me in place as your cunt muscles wring every last drop of cum from me.

You push me off, telling me to stand up and you slip to the floor on your knees, wedding dress still bunched around your waist. You take my cock between your lips, sucking at the mixture of spunk and cunt juice and my cock begins to thicken and harden again. You suck, taking my prick deep into your throat, coating it with your saliva and begin to wank it, your fist wrapped around my hard shaft. As it starts to dry out, you suck it again until it's slippery again then carry on stroking it. I can feel my spunk beginning to rise again and I know I going to shoot another load soon. I never last long when you're touching me, it's simply too much of erotic experience and I groan, warning you that I'm about to empty my balls. Normally, you'd take my cock deep in your mouth, swallowing every drop but this time you pull away slightly wanking me hard and fast. My knees start to tremble and my spunk explodes from my cock, spraying everywhere. Long strings of sperm are all over your face, on your lips, up your nose, in your eyes and several large splashes of it land on your beautifully styled hair. I collapse to my knees, embracing you and when the shaking stops, I kiss you on the lips licking my spunk from your mouth. I grab a tissue, wiping the rest of your face but as I reach up to wipe your hair, you grab my hand and shaking your head, tell me to leave it where it is.

I glance at the clock, noting that it's nearly time for the hairdresser to return and I help you to your feet, straightening and rearranging your wedding dress so that it falls perfectly. We embrace once more and then I'm gone, slipping out of the door, knowing that as you walk down the aisle towards the groom, my spunk will be trickling down your thigh and that if he stays sober enough to fuck you tonight, my spunk will be what lubricates his cock as it slides into you. Who knows, you may even be pregnant and I can hope that my wedding present to you is a fat belly, filled with our baby.