Things Happen at Weddings Ch. 02

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Big Tits

Colin McRae sipped his beer and rocked his chair back on two legs. His buddies were now talking about the NBA playoffs, so he tuned them out and focused his attention on the sexy bridesmaid, Alex, that he had just been dancing with. She was across the room now, laughing and chatting with the other bridesmaids and Maddie, his brother’s fiance. Wife, now. His sister-in-law.

He had always thought Maddie was the most attractive woman he had ever met in real life; and she *was* probably more objectively beautiful than Alex, but he was suddenly smitten with the sultry, dark-haired bridesmaid, who had exuded a smoking sensuality even before his wandering hands had determined that she wasn’t wearing panties beneath her sleek satin dress.

Hmmm. He imagined that a woman doesn’t go to a wedding reception and dance with men with no underwear unless she’s sending a signal, planning on getting laid tonight. But she wasn’t here with a date; she hadn’t been with a man last night at the rehearsal dinner when she had first caught his eye in her low-riding jeans and wine-colored henley. And tonight, the only guy she had danced with before him had been Maddie’s father. So she was unaccompanied. Available. And accessible.

As Colin mused about this, his brother’s college roommate and best man Mike approached Alex, exchanged pleasantries, and led her out on to the dance floor. He scowled, suddenly intensely jealous. Mike’s wife was here, but she was eight months pregnant. Things happen at weddings, though. He watched the well-built man moving across the floor with the seductive bridesmaid, and imagined in a different perspective how she felt and smelled to that other guy. He pictured Mike grinding his erection into her soft belly; his hands drifting down to explore her shapely hips and ass. Fuck, he thought. She’s here to get fucked, and if it’s not Mike, it’s going to be somebody…

So after the dance ended and Mike thankfully went back to the table where his wife was seated, Colin got up and approached Alex again.

“Hey, Alex.”

She turned and gave him a mild smile. “Hello again, Colin.”

“So, I was wondering… I thought I would get some fresh air.”

“Oh,” she said. “Would you bring me some?”

Her joke stopped him in his tracks for a moment, but she rescued him by taking his arm. “Would you like some company?”

She kept her arm hooked in his as they exited the ballroom onto a wide deck overlooking the river. A handful of other people were out there, but it was spacious enough to allow some distance and privacy. Alex moved to the far end, and turned to face the railing, enjoying the view, or pretending to. Colin recognized his opportunity and stepped up behind her left side, shielding her from the other people on the deck, and leaned in to her, pretending to be looking at the same things she was.

“Hmm,” she said, feeling him make contact with her.

“So why isn’t your girlfriend here, Colin?” she asked him.

“Oh, she’s back… um…” He stammered and blushed, realizing she had caught him admitting he wasn’t single.

“It’s okay, I don’t care,” she said, with a salacious tilt of her head. “Things happen at weddings.”

“So I hear,” he replied, wondering whether he was interpreting her “I don’t care” correctly. “And how about you? Do you have a boyfriend?”

“Not really. If you mean am I going steady with a guy who would drag to my friend’s wedding, no. If you mean is there a man waiting for me to get back later tonight who would be insanely jealous to know I was flirting with you — then, yes.”

Colin pursed his lips. “So what does that mean?”

“It means, this could be your lucky night. Make your move, cowboy.”

“Hmmm,” he nodded, his heartrate accelerating. He wasn’t used to a woman being this forward, but he decided that in this case, discretion was not the better part of valor. He tucked himself closer to her, and reached around her with his right arm and placed his hand on her leg, the side where the bias cut on her dress came up to mid-thigh, the side away from the other people on the deck.

He let his hand creep up over the top of her stocking, past the tab where her garter connected to it, then over the warm, incredibly soft flesh of her inner thigh. She said nothing, pretending to stare out over the river. He kept moving, until he found his thumb brushing against the trimmed hair on her pubic mound and his fingers touching her perfectly smooth vulva. Sure enough, no panties.

He flicked at her inner lips with his middle finger and they parted easily, revealing the wetness within. And she made no move to stop him. He stroked up to tease her clitoris, and found himself drawing his fingertip over a little ball of something hard that moved easily under his touch. Some kind of jewelry, a genital piercing. Nice. He watched her close her eyes and bite her lip.

Then he pushed his hand further down, curved his middle finger, and hooked it up into her, sliding effortlessly into her warmth, Pendik Escort finding the rough little bundle of nerves behind her pubic bone and stroking it. Finger fucking her, this older woman he had just met, his new sister-in-law’s bridesmaid, right out in public. Hot damn.

Shortly, though, she took his hand in hers and pushed it away. “That’s enough for now,” she said. “Cheeky little bastard.”

“Uh huh,” he scoffed, fully emboldened now. “Bastard, maybe. Not so little.”

“So, you gonna prove that?”

“I shared a room with my brother last night. He’s already moved all his stuff out. It’s all mine now.”



Colin opened the door to his room for Alex, and followed her in, flipping a couple of switches to get the overhead light off so that the light came from a more subtle floor lamp. As soon as she turned to face him, he embraced her, noting that rather than turning her face up to his for a kiss, she was looking down to unbutton his dress shirt.

He gathered some fabric from below the waist of her dress into his fists and began to pull it up, revealing the tops of her stockings. “Let’s get you out of this dress,” he growled.

She put her hands on his wrists, stopping him just as her neatly trimmed pubic mound came into view. “No,” she said. “Let’s leave that on.”

He looked confused for a moment, and she thought about telling him why, but she didn’t want to freak him out. So she moved quickly to undoing his belt and opening his dress trousers. “But we can get rid of these.”

His pants fell to his ankles, and he gasped as she hooked her fingers into the waistband of his boxer briefs, pulling them toward her so his already stiff and quite impressive cock could spring free. She dropped to her knees in front of him as she drew down his underwear and helped him step out of the pool of clothing at his feet. Then she looked up and made eye contact with him, his eyes wide and urgent, and extended her tongue to give a tiny lick to the sensitive wrinkled skin that made up the “chin” of his helmet-shaped head. His groan came out as a squeak.

She placed her hands on the fronts of his thighs and then ran them upwards, gathering the tails of his dress shirt, uncovering his flat, lean belly. “You can get rid of this, too,” she directed, and he quickly unbuttoned and discarded the shirt. His torso was magnificent, she admitted, a swimmer’s body; flat and endlessly long, with pronounced hipbones; mostly hairless between a smattering above his nipples and a trimmed sandy bush above the root of his cock. She took his erection in her hand and pulled it down a bit, gently, feeling its rigidity, then held it beside her right cheek while she buried her face in his belly, slowly tracing a path up to his navel.

Something about his lower torso was really triggering her, she realized. She was already picturing herself underneath him, hearing that taut stomach slapping against her own belly. And describing the sound and the sensation to Ryan later.

He really hadn’t earned the privilege of an on-her-knees blowjob, she thought to herself; but she was thinking now how excited and miserable it would make Ryan later tonight when she described this encounter for him. So she parted her lips and took the young man’s turgid member into her mouth, flicking the underside with her tongue, closing her lips behind the head, then pushing down two or three inches while listening to him release a long, ragged moan.

She moved up and down in slow strokes, savoring the heat and the texture, the pronounced veins gliding back and forth under her lips. She consciously adjusted her speed and technique, not wanting to make him cum too fast; he *was* just a college boy, after all. She took note when he shifted his weight, widened his stance, placed his hands on his hips. A dominant stance, she realized, and she had a little shiver of excitement. The boy had earned that body, she thought; but this cock was a gift. Gifted young men, she had come to learn, had a tendency to take their sexual success for granted. She could work with that.

After a few minutes, she stood back up, still holding his erection in one hand. She put her other palm on his chest and pushed him back so he fell, seated, in the middle of the little sofa. Naked except for his socks.

She hitched her dress up a bit as she climbed aboard him, still wearing her heels, one stocking-clad knee on each side of his lap. Her hands went to his shoulders, and his hands to her waist. She leaned in and kissed him for the first time. His lips parted willingly as she licked at them, and she invaded his mouth with her tongue first, but soon they were dueling. She wondered how many times she had shared a first kiss *after* a first blowjob. Probably less than five.

“God, you’re beautiful,” he breathed when she broke off the kiss.

“Mmm,” she responded, thinking the same thing. She reached down between her thighs, and closed one hand around his thick, Kurtköy Escort pulsing cock, making a point to drag the sensitive knob over the silk of the top of her stockings, and then slowly across the warm bare flesh above them.

She felt him reaching behind her, his right hand approaching her from the rear, two fingers finding and spreading her labia — his forefinger and ring finger, she realized, because now what had to be his middle finger was stroking into her, drawing her moisture out, and gently tickling her clitoris. Not bad technique, she thought.

Together, they guided his stiff erection into position. She had to rise up fully on her knees to get above it; and then they both felt the electric shock as his smooth, tender glans settled between her moist lips. The moment of truth, she thought — she still found the first penetration of a new partner to be thrilling, especially when he was young and eager and gorgeous like Colin.

Then she sank down on him, and she heard his “Fuuuuccckkk!” over her own moan as his thick, rigid young cock opened her up on its way up under her heart. He really was big, she thought; not the biggest she had ever encountered, but as big as any she had ever been able to fully accommodate, down to the hilt, as she just had with him. The perfect size, it occurred to her. God, she couldn’t wait to tell Ryan *that.*

“God, you’re tight,” he gasped.

Even in this state of excitement and sensory overload, the words struck her as funny. Hell, with his cock, every girl he had ever been with must have felt tight. It occurred to her to tease him with something like “I’ll bet you say that to all the girls,” but instead she settled for a trite but honest, “It’s because you’re so big.”

Both of his hands had returned to her hips as she began to move up and down on him. It took several strokes for her to realize that she had closed her eyes; when she opened them again, he was staring at her in wonderment and appreciation. She rewarded him by adding a round-and-round motion to her ride, squeezing and releasing him with her pelvic muscles, and he moaned his approval.

He raised his hands and cupped her full breasts through her dress, then moved up to draw her spaghetti straps down over her shoulders. “Can I?” he asked. She nodded. So he pulled the straps down over her elbows, and the layered neckline of the dress followed, its built-in shelf bra dropping from below her breasts and settling around her rib cage. Her breasts finally came into view; not overly large, but extra full on the bottom, causing her nipples to point upwards and her areola to appear oval instead of round. He was mesmerized by the sight as she continued to rise and fall intently on his shaft, buried just behind and below them.

She uttered a frustrated gasp that he took as, “What are you waiting for?” and he quickly cupped them, gathered them in his hands, marveling at their softness and their weight. They felt solid and heavy out of proportion to their size. He tightened the circles of his thumbs and fingers around them and pulled her to his face, making her rise up off of all but the top two or three inches of his cock, and took first one breast and then the other into his hungry mouth.

“Oh, yesss,” she gasped, moving her hands from his shoulders to the back of his head, and twining her fingers into his curly hair. Suddenly desperate to be full of him, though, she plunged back down on him again, then arched her back away from him so he had to lean forward himself to get his lips back around her nipple. Which he did.

“Harder,” she hissed. “Leave marks.” He stopped for a moment and looked up into her eyes. They were heavy-lidded and smouldering.

“But… I thought you said there was a guy waiting…”

“That’s right. So mark me.”

A grin spread across his face. “Huh. I get it. You’ve got a cuckold…”

“More or less,” she stated, grinding herself against him, trying to stab herself in the cervix with his blunt instrument. “You know about that, huh?”

“I’ve seen it in porn.”

“You on board with the idea?”

His lopsided grin morphed into a leer. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am.”

“So show me.”

And with that he sucked the top of her right breast between his pursed lips, right above the nipple, and began to suck while pinching her tender flesh between his tongue and teeth. She felt it; knew that there would be a purple bruise there by the time she got back to Ryan later. That thought, on top of the sensations she was feeling all over and inside her body, tripped her trigger, and she felt an orgasm coming on that was not of her own making.

Colin felt it too; he clutched her heaving body to him and stopped thrusting into her, letting himself feel her pussy rhythmically clamping down and releasing his shaft. A few more long strokes, he knew, and he would be cumming, too, and he wasn’t ready yet.

As her breathing slowed, he realized that he had been clutching her head, digging Ümraniye Escort his fingers into her once-elegant upswept hairdo. Loose strands now fell around her face, which she noticed, too; and then noticed the apologetic look on his face.

She smiled weakly at him. “It’s okay,” she assured him; and after a moment more she reached up and deftly removed a couple of pins, and her dark waves cascaded down to her shoulders, obscuring one eye.

“So, that’s why you didn’t want to take your clothes off?” Colin ventured. “To go back to your cuck in the dress you’d been fucked in?”

“Huh. You catch on quick for a newbie.”

He was still imbedded up inside her, but he took a moment, as she had stopped writhing on him, to absorb the sight of her. Tossled hair, shiny dress bunched around her waist, a faint bruise appearing already on her breast. He thought of the mysterious inscrutable boyfriend who would see her this way later, and felt a surge of testosterone and adrenaline at the thought that *he* had been the one to do this to her.

“So you’ve done that,” he ventured. “How about you take it off now?”

She sat up straight on him. “You *are* a cheeky bastard.” But she crossed her hands in front of herself to grab the folds of the dress, and pulled it up over her head, dropping it on the arm of the sofa beside her.

He grabbed her waist and lifted her off of him, until his cock slipped out of her and slapped wetly against his belly. “Stand up for me. I want to see you.”

The corners of her lips turned up into a suppressed smile. An hour ago she wouldn’t have dreamed of letting this boy give her commands; and even now, she was just playing a role opposite the one she wanted him to take. She stood up straight in front of him, displaying her teardrop breasts; her arms at her sides, palms pressed against her thighs. Still wearing her nude silk hosiery and her cream-colored heels and lace garter belt.

Those could stay, Colin thought. “Turn around.”

Still smiling that Mona Lisa smile, she did so. And suddenly it was Colin’s turn to bite his lip. Even though his schlong was still wet from having just been inside of her, the presentation of this woman’s body in this lingerie made him ache with desire. He stared at her dimpled lower back and the way her ass was widest at the bottom, at the top of her thighs, and he suddenly reset his ideal of feminine beauty.

“Huh,” he murmured aloud.

“What?” Alex asked, without turning around.

“I just… I’ve heard about heart-shaped asses, but I never saw it before,” he admitted. “The heart is upside down.”

That made her genuinely laugh, and when she looked back over her shoulder at him, he saw her eyes sparkling with something like affection. Then he added, “But the other one isn’t.”

“The other one?”

He stood up and put his hand between her legs, where a tiny little gap at the top of her full thighs was indeed letting a backlit window of light from the nightstand through — heart-shaped, with the moist, extended lips of her well-used pussy creating the indentation at the top of the figure.

She shivered, but as she started to step away or turn toward him, he placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her forward, three steps, to the bed. It only took the slightest pressure for her to bend down, get on her knees on the edge of the bed, place her hands and then her head and shoulders flat against the bedspread, presenting herself to him in the most primal of ways.

Rather than impaling her, though, he found himself kneeling behind her, nestling his face up between her thighs, stretching to get his tongue between her labia. From this angle he couldn’t reach her clit, or that intriguing piece of jewelry. Later, he hoped. Then he drew his mouth back and upwards, tracing the little seam of her perineum, and for the first time in his life circled his pointed tongue around a woman’s anus.

But she pulled away from him, saying, “Mmm, that’s nice, but I want you back inside me.” Then she arched her back, tilting her smoothly shaved pudenda into his view.

Fair enough, thought Colin, gripping her hip in one hand and himself in the other, aligning himself. He was still so tall that he had to bend his knees to get to the right height, but as soon as he got there, he pulled her back onto him. She was wet but engorged, and with her knees closer together, he thought this was the most exquisite penetration he had ever felt. And that *ass,* he thought, framed in lace and silk and offered up to him in this submissive position… suddenly he felt simultaneously lucky, and powerful. Empowered. Entitled, even. He thought of the boyfriend, or whatever the guy was, jealously waiting for her somewhere while *he* took her. He pulled almost all the way out and then slammed back in, making her squeal. And then again, and again.

Afterwards, after he had finished grunting and pumping her full of semen, Alex let Colin slowly slip out of her, and then fell forward and collapsed onto her side, finally at that point kicking off her shoes. Colin, still breathing heavily, climbed up and laid down behind her, spooning her. They were silent for a moment.

“So, tell me about him,” he blurted out.


“Your boyfriend.”

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