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Krissy's Wedding Gift Part 1

Krissy receives an unexpeted gift at a wedding.

They weren’t the best of times. In fact, they were closer to the worst of times. My birthday had just passed and my boyfriend Jeff had not given me a ring. Nor had he given me one on St. Valentine’s Day. He didn’t present me with one at Christmas, either. I was beginning to get the feeling that I was wasting my time.

Jeff’s best friend was soon to be married and Jeff was to serve as the best man. Jeff would be seated at the dais with the wedding party, which would result in me being alone for the most of the reception.

I wasn’t looking forward to attending Jeff’s friend’s wedding. Having a steady boyfriend for three years and no ring to show for it made it difficult for me to share in the couple’s joy. The more I thought about it the more I loathed the idea, but I gritted my teeth and agreed to attend.

Nature had smiled on the bride and groom and blessed them with a warm, sunny day. The wedding party was dressed resplendently. Jeff’s bridesmaid partner was gorgeous, much to my chagrin. The wedding service was formal and dignified.

After a pleasant cocktail hour we arrived at the reception hall. The bride’s father was beaming with pride over his lovely daughter. There was much joviality between the couple’s families. There was happiness everywhere. But seeing the joy of the bride and groom elicited pangs of sadness within me.

We mingled a bit and then found my table. I was seated with couples. Jeff spent some time with me and then moved to his place at the dais.

I rose and proceeded to the ladies’ room to freshen up. I stared at myself in the mirror. I was battling sadness and fought back some tears. After taking a few deep breaths, I put on a brave face and resolved not to let my despondency show.

Upon returning to my table, I found a handsome young couple seated next to me. The young man noticed me and stood, holding his gaze a bit too long.

“Hello. My name is David. This is Beth Ann,” he said, motioning to his girlfriend.

“My name is Krissy,” I said, addressing both of them.

“Pleased to meet you, Krissy,” Beth Ann said, eyeing me with a look that was unfathomable. We sat and made pleasant small talk.

David and Beth Ann made an attractive couple; David was handsome and treated Beth Ann respectfully. As we spoke, I was able to furtively glance at Beth Ann when she turned to talk to David. Her blonde hair was parted above her left eye and it elegantly draped over her shoulders, forming a cute curl on her back. She had full eyelashes that curved alluringly. A pearl necklace adorned her lovely neck. Her dress and her sitting position made it challenging to discern her figure, but it appeared she had a slim waist and was well endowed. Her legs were long and slender. She wore open-toe pumps and her toenails were French pedicured.

After some time, David stood; he too was a member of the wedding party. He took his place at the dais, alongside Jeff, leaving Beth Ann and me with each other as company.

Conversation came easily with Beth Ann. We found we had mutual interests, both of us enjoying love stories and tear jerkers. We laughed heartily while recalling some of the comedy movies we had both seen. We shared an abhorrence to rap music and horror movies. We had read some of the same books, we belonged to the same health club, albeit at different locations, and we were both cyclists.

“What do you do for a living?” I asked Beth Ann.

“I’m a student. I’m in my second year of a pre-med program.”

“That requires a lot of study,” I observed.

“It does. It takes all of my time. I keep thinking a nineteen-year-old should be having fun, not be bent over books all the time.”

“It will be worth it, Beth Ann. Sacrifice now will pay dividends later,” I assured her.

As we talked, I started feeling a connection with Beth Ann. Although she was considerably younger than I, she seemed more mature than her years would suggest. Her vocabulary was sophisticated. Beth Ann possessed poise and was worldly. She was a cultured young woman and I felt we were bonding.

The boys returned after the main course and asked us to dance. We crowded onto the dance floor with the other couples. Jeff and I slow-danced next to Beth Ann and David. As we turned, I had a better opportunity to examine Beth Ann’s figure. She was tall and slender, standing about 5’8”. Pressed up against David as they swayed to the sentimental ballad, I was unable to assess her breast size, but she filled her dress agreeably everywhere else. I ogled Beth Ann’s ass. It was nice.

We returned to the table and the boys soon left us to ourselves again.

With Beth Ann as company, the evening passed quickly. In the boys’ absence we exchanged phone numbers and email addresses. Before leaving the wedding, we arranged a cycling meet for the next weekend without the boys’ knowledge.

I called Beth Ann during the week. We agreed to meet at my house and set out from there.

Saturday morning came and Beth Ann arrived at nine o’clock. We retrieved Beth Ann’s Trek from her Ford Escape and as we did, we eyed the sky warily. Inky rain clouds loomed to the west, but, intrepid cyclists that we were, we were undeterred.

We were fifteen minutes into our ride when the skies opened up, drenching us. We turned and headed back to my house, arriving cold and soaked to the skin. I invited Beth Ann in and offered her my shower.

“There are towels in the linen closet and you can borrow this bath robe,” I said, holding out my spare. “I’ll take out a pair of sweats for you.”

Beth Ann availed herself of my shower. She emerged the very picture of youthful beauty. Her high cheekbones complemented her baby blue eyes, and her skin was smooth and unblemished. Her hair was wet and hung down to the middle of her back. She had tied the sash of the robe across her slim waist. She was still panting slightly from the bike ride and her breasts heaved inside my robe. She caught me noticing and suppressed a smile.

I took my turn in the shower. As I toweled myself off, the dryer buzzer announced that our clothes were dry. We dressed.

Our cycling outing being washed out, I invited Beth Ann to lunch at my favorite Chinese restaurant. She accepted.

I took the opportunity over lunch to learn more about Beth Ann. Her father was a surgeon; her mother was a surgeon’s wife. She had attended private schools and was attending her father’s alma mater now. Beth Ann had always excelled academically and was poised to follow in her father’s footsteps. She spoke of David, with whom she was happy, but also alluded to a void in her relationship and in her life; something was missing but she didn’t know what it was.

We lingered over tea while the rain continued. Before we left we arranged for another bicycle outing the next Saturday, hoping for better weather.

This time the weather cooperated and we covered thirty miles. We returned to my house and showered. Beth Ann emerged with a slightly pained look on her face.

“Are you alright, Beth Ann?”

“It’s my back; sitting bent over books all week takes a toll on my posture.”

“Where does it hurt?”

She turned around and lifted her hand behind her, trying unsuccessfully to reach the spots. “Here, and here,” she pointed.

“Come. I’ll massage that out.”

I led Beth Ann to my bed and had her lay down on her tummy. I took out some sandalwood massage oil.

“I’ll need to lower your bathrobe,” I said, as I lifted the collar off her neck. “Slide your arms out.”

Beth Ann complied, pulling her arms out of the sleeves as I helped her. I lowered the robe to the small of her back and I gently massaged her. Beth Ann let out some contented sighs as I focused on her painful areas.

“Ooh, right there,” she said, grunting.

“Am I pressing too hard?” I asked softly.

“No, it’s perfect. It’s a good pain,” she added with a satisfied groan.

I continued rubbing her back, maneuvering around her bra strap. Her eyes were partially closed and her breathing slowed.

“Mind if I unclip you?”

“Go ahead,” she replied.

I unclipped her bra and the straps fell away. I continued my massage as Beth Ann sighed and exhaled. I completely removed the bathrobe; only her panties remained. I skipped over her behind and progressed down each of her legs. I took each of her feet in my hands and gently massaged them.

Beth Ann had smooth, un-calloused feet with a nice arch. She exhaled some contented moans as I massaged her instep.

“That feels so good, Krissy,” she breathed.

I massaged her feet a while longer and then gently placed them down. I moved my hands to her waist.

“Turn over, Beth Ann,” I whispered, encouraging her with a slight twist.

Beth Ann turned onto her back. Her bra fell away and I began massaging her flat tummy. I conspicuously skipped over her breasts and worked on her shoulders. I picked up each of her arms and travelled down to her hands, massaging each one, interlocking our fingers as I did. Working back up her arms, I refocused on her shoulders and upper chest. Beth Ann remained in her dreamy state.

I dripped more sandalwood oil onto my hands and lightly rubbed them together. I reached down and took both of Beth Ann’s breasts in my hands. She sighed at my touch. Beth Ann’s boobs were a healthy D-cup and were topped by pronounced pink nipples. Her breasts were firm but supple and were delightful to hold. Beth Ann softly cooed as I squeezed her ample boobs together and massaged the oil into her smooth skin. Her gorgeous nipples appeared as two smiling eyes. I gave each a kiss.

I kissed and manipulated and enjoyed Beth Ann’s breasts until content and then released them, allowing them to return to their natural position.

Moving back to her tummy, I lingered for a while and then progressed further south. I massaged the inside of her thighs and then moved around to her hips. I put my fingers inside the elastic of her panties, tugged slightly, and then paused. She hesitated and then slowly lifted her cute behind an inch. I carefully pulled her panties down and off. She was naked.

Lying on my bed, Beth Ann was the quintessence of youthful femininity. Her blonde hair splayed across my pillow. She had graceful shoulders and generous breasts. Her flat tummy merged into her mons veneris. Her pubic hair was only slightly darker than the rest of her hair and was neatly trimmed. Long legs led to beautiful, graceful feet.

I placed my hands back on her hips and tummy, and then lightly skimmed across her mound. I slid my thumbs down to the sides of her opening and massaged. Her supple vagina stretched and contracted with my caresses.

I climbed onto my bed, and, holding Beth Ann by the ankles, slowly spread her legs. I positioned myself between them and lowered my face into her groin. Pulling Beth Ann’s vagina open, I inspected it from up close.

Her elegant flower glistened in the sunlight. Her labia majora were the color of bronze and her labia minora were a healthy pink. Still holding her open, I rubbed my fingers on her smooth lips. Beth Ann had a soft, feminine scent, and I luxuriated in her redolence. Her graceful vagina invited my love. It was an invitation I couldn’t resist and I sprinkled loving kisses between her parted lips. Beth Ann cooed at my tenderness.

I treated Beth Ann’s kitty like hallowed ground, adoring and worshipping at her altar of love. After dozens of kisses, I inserted my tongue slowly but deeply, and then dragged it unhurriedly up her slot. I repeated this treatment several times, increasing pressure each time as I did. I then pinched the skin on either side of her clitoris and lifted it up off of her pelvic bone.

With her clitoris thus suspended in air, I kissed it and flicked it with my stiffened tongue. More soft coos ensued from her lips. I entertained her for some time, rubbing my lips and tongue on her swollen nub, careful not to bring her to orgasm yet. I released her lovely vagina and it returned to its relaxed state.

I pulled her back open to assess her opening and estimated she could easily accommodate two fingers. I penetrated Beth Ann effortlessly due to her wetness. Probing her vagina first with one finger, then with two, I stretched and manipulated her. After sufficiently expanding her tunnel I withdrew and wiped her wetness on each of her nipples. I worked my fingers back into her, and this time, upon withdrawing, put them in her mouth. She suckled contentedly.

Taking Beth Ann’s hand in mine, I led her to her wetness. I pushed her index finger into her, held it in place, then pulled it out and took it in my mouth. Next, I pushed in two of her fingers and then put them in her own mouth. I repeated this several times, making her finger herself and then putting those fingers in her mouth. She savored her taste contentedly. I then inserted her index finger inside her and held it in. I inserted my index finger as well and we rubbed our fingers together inside her. I found her G-spot, and with my other hand, I tickled her clitoris.

Beth Ann’s orgasm came in two stages. The first was marked by deep breaths and moans. The second stage came suddenly; Beth Ann gripped the sheets and her pelvis lifted off the bed. She exhaled deeply and squirted a healthy stream of liquid. I was able to catch most of it in my mouth, but much ended up on my face.

I stayed put as Beth Ann calmed. I carefully avoided her sensitive clitoris as I held her vagina open and planted the gentlest of kisses between her parted lips.

“That’s so gentle, Krissy,” Beth Ann sighed.

Once her breathing returned to normal, I lightly rubbed the tip of my tongue on her clitoris and gave it a gentle kiss. I lay down next to Beth Ann, covering us both with the bed sheet as I did. I took Beth Ann in my arms and kissed her. She was totally spent from her furious orgasm, but kissed back tenderly.

“Sleep tight, Beth Ann,” I said, before we both fell into slumber in each other’s arms.

 

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