Wedding Arousal

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Big Tits

SUMMARY: This is a story about a girl who finds herself extremely horny on the night of her wedding. While she initially prefers to seek out her husband to alleviate the itch between her legs, he is consequently too drunk to satisfy her after binging at the reception. And so she inadvertently seeks satisfaction from another source. An incestuous one…

I would like to point out that I didn’t use any names in this story. I did that on purpose, so you can fantasize all you want. 🙂

DISCLAIMER: This story is a work of fiction. Any character resemblances to real life personae are strictly coincidental. Copying, re-posting, storing (whether digitally or in print form) or redistribution of this material is prohibited.

STORY:

Nervous. I had never felt so nervous in all my life. And aroused. Oh god, I was so aroused. How the hell had that happened? I never would have pitted those two emotions together at the same time. Oh, there were others swirling around in there, too. But those two most of all. They were the most prominent.

Basically, I was freaking out. But horny as fuck at the same time. I could barely keep myself together! And it had all started when I woke up this morning. Why this morning, of all mornings? Why today?

It was my wedding day. I was finally getting married. Well, when I say it like that, it sounds like I’ve been waiting for such a long time. But really, it’s only been a year. I met my boyfriend during my sophomore year at college and we got engaged two months later. One year ago yesterday, to be exact.

And now it was the big day. I glanced at myself in the mirror one more time and saw my body tremble. Pull yourself together, girl! I closed my eyes and took in several deep breaths before opening them again. My friends had left me alone for these last few minutes before the big moment, by my request. They didn’t know how messed up I was inside, battling with my anxiety and arousal.

It was time.

**

The service came and went so quick, I almost couldn’t believe it. So many months spent planning, and the whole thing was over in a flash. My daddy had walked me down the aisle. I remember clinging to his arm, shaking like a leaf. He patted the back of my hand and murmured something that I think was supposed to alleviate my nervousness, but I have no idea what he said.

I vaguely recall nearly tripping my way up what felt like a dozen steps. At least they were padded. Blue carpeting, I seemed to recall. I should be able to remember more than that, though. Shouldn’t I? And when the time came for the kiss right after the vows… oh god. When he kissed me, my knees almost gave out. The nervousness spiked, but so did the horniness. God I was so freaking horny! I actually felt myself dripping right there on the altar. I was so worried that it would seep down my leg and show through my white tights that I started pressing my thighs together. That didn’t help one bit. Tiny pulses of arousal emanated from my crotch. When the kiss ended, I was completely out of breath. I glanced up at my boyfriend–no, my husband. Damn. I had to remember that. We were married!

I don’t even remember what happened next. Except a lot of time passed. I think pictures were taken. But I couldn’t concentrate at all, except to think about getting the fuck out of there and getting my boyfr–husband’s–cock in me.

Then it was time for the after party. What’s that called? The reception? I was so out of it, I didn’t even know. And we drank. Well, I drank a few glasses of wine. My husband binged. On whatever anyone would cram in front of his face.

Fortunately or unfortunately, that wine went straight through me, and I was tipsy before I finished my first glass. And when I get tipsy, I get horny. But I was already horny, so you can only imagine. I was on fire. Literally. Even my nipples were tingling. I had to get the fuck out of that dress before I embarrassed myself.

Finally, I couldn’t take it. I grabbed my husband and whispered urgently in his ear, “If you don’t take me to our room and fuck me right now, I’m going to start the divorce filings tomorrow!” He grinned as if I was joking. But at least he came with me.

Trouble was, once we got to the room, I could already tell it was a lost cause. He couldn’t even get himself undressed. I had to take his clothes off, which was not easy. How the fuck many pieces came with a rented tux? I’m sure I tore a few of his buttons, but I didn’t care. Finally, I had him naked and in bed and… drunk. He couldn’t even look at me straight. Fuck it. There was no way I was going to make it through my wedding night without getting off.

I pushed him back onto the bed. He offered no resistance whatsoever, except the sheer physics involved in woman-handling his six-foot body. I managed it anyway. Christ, I didn’t even bother taking my dress off. I shoved my hands up underneath and hooked both my thumbs in the elastic waistline of my tights, snagging my panties in the same motion. bursa escort I couldn’t help but think about the fact that he was supposed to be doing this part. Fuck it. With a tug, I managed to slip them both down far enough to expose what I needed to expose.

Sliding up my boyf–arrghh! My husband. Husband! My husband’s body! I slid up it, straddling his hips and moving forward with my knees. I felt so desperate. When I reached the right position, a quick reach between us found his flaccid cock. Fuck! Of course he was limp. He was virtually passed out! I started stroking it anyway. Come on, love. I need this!

It must have been some sight. My newly wedded husband practically passed out on the bed as his bride, in full dress, straddled him and stroked him desperately. I stroked faster, feeling his penis begin to stir. It wasn’t very hot. Nothing like how it used to be. Of course, I couldn’t fault him. Not with him incoherent from alcohol. But I was frustrated anyway. He should have realized I would need this!

There! That’s hard enough! His penis was a little stiffer between my roving fingers, so I slid forward, dropping my hips down. I felt the tip of his penis flop helplessly against my entrance several times, but then I managed to slip him in. God I was fucking wet!

Immediately I started undulating my hips, grinding against him. He moaned. Well, maybe more like he groaned. His cock blessedly started to get hard as I pushed myself down, forcing him deeper inside me. I felt it gently filling me. Oh yes! Yes baby! I started grinding faster. Fuck I was tingling! He got harder, groaning again. I stared down at him, his face turned to the side.

This wasn’t going to get me there fast enough!

With a growl, I reached down once more. Except this time, I touched myself instead of him. My hips dropped down, lifting back up. Down and up. His cock was so soft, still, that it barely felt like he was penetrating me. I found my clit and started rubbing it frantically. Up and down I bounced. My arousal flared. I was breathing heavily.

His cock slipped out of my pussy. I looked down and my eyes opened wide. FUCK! He was completely asleep. Like, totally. One hundred percent. He was fucking OUT. I snarled, then pushed myself back off of him and off the bed. My dress fell down around my knees, but my tights and panties were still clinging around my legs, mid-calf. Lifting one foot at a time, I kicked my way out of them, irritated.

With a final glance at my “perfect” husband, I left the room, annoyed and incredibly horny.

**

The grand ballroom at the hotel still had a surprising amount of people still in it. Several couples were dancing, and the DJ was still working his magic on the room. The song that was playing as I walked in was right at the end. I was just on my way to the bar at the far corner of the room when I heard someone call to me.

“Bunny, there you are,” the voice reached my ears and made me smile.

I turned and watched my dad walk up to me. He was not walking straight. Jesus, was everyone drunk at my own wedding except me? I stood my ground until he was standing just a few feet away and stopped. He was smiling. Beaming, actually. I watched his eyes take in my outfit once more. I leaned back slightly, making sure my bare legs could be spotted easily beneath my dress.

Wait. What the hell was I doing? This was my father! Yet his gaze hitched when he reached my legs. It was brief, but I noticed it. He snapped them back up to my face so fast I could almost think I had imagined it. With a shake of my head, I finally said, “Hi daddy.” A wave of emotion suddenly overwhelmed me, and I felt my eyes brimming with tears. What the hell?

My dad had his arms around me in a heartbeat. He rubbed my back awkwardly around my dress. He was being careful not to crumple the front of my dress. It was sweet, really. But I wanted more. I wanted him to hug me like he had last night when he told me how much he loved me, and how happy he was that I had found someone.

Somehow, his comforting arms stirred my emotional pot even more, until everything started swirling inside. The nervousness was gone from earlier, but this new sadness was strong. Mixed with that was still my incessant feeling of intense arousal, though. I thought about my husband for a brief moment. Thought about his cock being in me. Oh, he could fuck me good. Just not tonight, when I truly needed it. But thinking about him being inside me made my arousal pulse until I heard myself gasping against my daddy’s shoulder.

He must have mistaken my gasp for more crying because he finally squeezed me tighter, pulling me closer to him. I felt my breasts press up against the bottom of his chest. Oh, he was warm. Without any conscious thought, I started rubbing his back like he was rubbing mine. I spread my fingers and pulled them slowly toward his sides, like I used to do when he would comfort me when I was little.

“Can I finally get my dance with you now?” my bursa escort bayan daddy’s whisper reached my ears and I nodded against his chest.

Without letting go of me, he led me out onto the dance floor. Just then, another song started. It was an Ed Sheeran song. One of my favorites. It should be, since I had picked most of the songs on the playlist tonight.

Somehow the entire scene became magical to me. My daddy, holding me close and slow dancing with me. The rest of the room sort of disappeared. It was just me, my daddy, and Ed Sheeran singing us a ballad. I let my father lead, feeling my body flow with a graceful sway as he spun us in a slow circle. I murmured against his chest, feeling extremely warm and tingly. And still horny. I squeezed him.

And then I felt it.

He was hard! Thoughts of my husband suddenly flooded my head. God, I wish he could have stayed hard! Oh how I needed his cock in me tonight! But even riding him hadn’t made him hard enough to satisfy me. Yet here, in this little bubble of enchantment in the middle of the dance floor, my daddy was hard. Just from dancing with me. What if… wait. Fuck. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck. FUCK! I shook my head. I needed another drink.

Pushing myself away from my daddy, I stepped quickly toward the bar. He called my name but I didn’t look back. I felt out of breath by the time I bumped into the bar, making the glasses clink on the top. The bartender gave me a wistful look, holding his hands out in case any of them started to tip.

“Wine,” I said. It was all I could mutter. My pussy was throbbing. Literally. And I couldn’t stop thinking about my daddy’s boner. Was that because of me? Was he hard for me? Or was he just hard like boys sometimes get?

The bartender handed me a glass filled with wine and I immediately started chugging it. Like a beer. I choked about halfway through the glass, coughing red wine down the front of my dress. Oh fuck me. Frustrated, I tipped the glass once more and downed the rest of the wine. I had never drunk wine so fast before.

Spinning around, the room seemed to keep spinning even after I finished turning. And then my eyes fell on my dad. He was walking toward me, a look of concern on his face. Shit. My eyes drifted down to his crotch. Stop it! Was he still hard? I couldn’t tell in the dimly lit room. My reaction time was slow, so I was still staring at his crotch when he reached me.

Sliding my eyes back up his body, acting as nonchalant as I could, I stared him in the eyes. He frowned and asked softly, “You ok?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah, I just wanted another drink,” I said.

“I noticed. I didn’t know you were such a lush,” he said, teasingly.

I rolled my eyes at him and then turned and asked the bartender to refill my glass, but I noticed he already had. Oh. Maybe he was giving me special treatment since I was the bride. I smiled at him and he nodded back with a smirk.

Glass in hand, I turned to face my father once more. But my eyes weren’t looking at his face. They were staring at his crotch again. At the very noticeable bulge in his tuxedo pants. Why hadn’t he tried to hide it? Maybe he didn’t know he was hard. That had to be it. I took another drink of wine to hide my stare, catching his face over the edge of the glass. He had a strange look in his eyes, but I didn’t know what it meant.

“I’ll have another Guinness,” my dad told the bartender as he stepped up beside me. I was leaning my back against the edge of the bar, sipping my wine. With my father’s head turned away from me, I stared down his back until my eyes paused on his butt. There wasn’t really much to see with the dark pants, but I stared anyway. What was freaking wrong with me?

“Another dance?” he asked me, hefting a large mug of dark beer. He took a long drag from it and when he lowered it, he had a little beer mustache which he wiped with his sleeve. That made me giggle for some reason.

“Sure,” I chirped and then started toward the dance floor again, trying to sway seductively. I’m not sure I pulled it off, considering how far my tipsiness had gone after slamming that glass of wine.

My dad reached me a few seconds later. We both had our drinks in one hand, which we quickly realized would make dancing a little difficult. But he sidled up to me anyway and wrapped one arm around my waist, pulling me against him once more. I felt his arm resting right at the top of my ass. I shivered, unable to stop it. Letting him pull me closer, I lifted my leg high enough to brush my thigh against the side of his hip. Was that too high for a daughter to raise her leg while dancing with her father? Shit.

But Lord have mercy. With my leg up and him pulling me against him, I could feel his cock through his slacks. I let my leg drop back down, nervousness rising up once more. I tilted my head up to look at his face and found him staring at me intently. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t frowning either. His face was unreadable. Had he noticed my escort bursa gesture? Did he realize I knew he was hard? Fuck, I was trembling.

Suddenly my father cleared his throat and gently pushed me away. I watched him shake his head and then he muttered, “I think I should probably go to bed.”

I nodded slowly, watching as he lifted his mug to his lips and take another deep drink of his beer. When he lowered it, there was barely a quarter left. We stared at each other for a long moment and then he smiled and started walking toward the doors. I followed like a little puppy, staying just a few feet behind him the whole way.

All the way down the main corridor and down a side hall, I trailed after him. Neither of us said a word. Finally, he stopped and started digging for his room key. He searched through several pockets before producing it. He held it up with a smug grin and then I watched as he clumsily tried to insert it into the card slot.

When he managed to get his door open, he turned toward me. Again, there was a moment of silence between us. What was he thinking about? Hell, what was I thinking about? Finally he nodded and said, “G’night, bunny.”

I just stared at him as he walked into his room, the door shutting behind him. Then I whispered, “Ni-night daddy.”

**

The elevator door opened a few minutes later, on the third floor. My floor. Where my sleeping husband awaited me eagerly. I sighed. My heart was pounding. The entire walk from my dad’s room to the elevator had been filled with dark thoughts. Thoughts about my father that no daughter should ever entertain. Was he still hard? What would he do about it? I couldn’t help but picture my father masturbating on his hotel bed. I squeezed my thighs together, trying to stave off the sudden pulsing tingle that erupted there. Idly I wondered if I could get my husband hard with a blowjob. Maybe that would do the trick.

A ding brought me out of my trance and before I could react, the elevator door closed near silently. I stood in the car, shaking. I glanced at the panel of buttons. None of them were lit up. A gentle whirring sound was the only warning I had before I felt the elevator beginning to descend. Oh. It must have an automatic function that sends it back to the first floor when not in use.

When the doors opened, I was staring once more at the first-floor lobby. The first floor. Where my daddy’s room was. I felt myself moving before I realized I had decided to move. In the back of my mind, I probably knew what was happening. But the part of me that was aware of the present was not in control. Before I had it all the way worked out, I found myself standing before my father’s door.

There was that nervousness again. But even stronger was the arousal I had been battling all damn day. Jesus Christ. I was a hot mess. Heart pounding, I lifted my arm and rapped lightly on the door. I heard something thump in the room, followed by silence. I waited thirty seconds and then lifted my hand once more, but I hesitated. What was I doing? Just go to bed, girl! I started to lower my hand just as I heard a click at the door, and then it opened inward a few inches.

“Bunny?” my dad asked as he gazed at me through the crack in the door. I gaped at the sliver of him I could see. I saw a vertical line of pure skin, all the way down to his waist, where I could tell he was wearing only his boxers.

“Hi daddy,” I said softly.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, sounding a little strained.

I bit my lip, hesitating. I should just tell him I wanted to say goodnight one more time and leave. But I just stood there, staring at one of his eyeballs through the crack. He frowned and I quickly whispered, “I just don’t want to be alone right now.”

“Where’s your husband?” he asked, confused.

“Passed out,” I heard myself say.

“Ah,” he said softly. He didn’t move.

My heart felt like it was about to jump right out of my chest. I struggled internally with what I wanted to say. Why didn’t he open the door the rest of the way? Hadn’t I already made myself perfectly clear? What more did he want? I felt frustrated. But that pulse. Oh god that pulse, between my legs. It should have gone away by now, but it felt ten times stronger than it had earlier. I was breathing heavily, complementing my beating heart.

Drawing in a shaky breath, I asked softly, “Can I come in?”

My dad cleared his throat but nodded slowly, “Uh, sure.” Then he was backing up, pulling the door open with him. I noticed he was still mostly hidden behind it as I stepped into his room. One glance at his bed told me he had already been in it. I swallowed hard and then turned to face him just as he turned back toward me after closing the door.

My eyes couldn’t help but drop down immediately to his crotch, where I saw the distinct outline of a very massive penis. My daddy looked to be as hard as could be. I should lift my eyes up. I knew I should. But I couldn’t. All I could think about was having a cock inside of me. To have a cock thrusting into me, over and over. I shuddered but finally forced my head to look up into his eyes once more. He looked like a cornered animal. I bit my lower lip again.

Ben Esra telefonda seni bosaltmami ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Bir yanıt yazın