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Bride... Unveiled

Victoria's dream wedding is complicated by an old flame...
After just one glass of champagne at the Club I told my brand-new husband that I needed to go upstairs to our honeymoon suite and fix my make-up.

“You’re perfect as you are, my dear,” he said, his eyes twinkling with pride and giving him the look of a much younger man, “but go if you must. Just don’t be too long…” He resumed talking to his guests. Well, our guests. I could tell how proud he was.

I gathered my wedding dress in my hands and skipped from the room, still full of nervous excitement in the wake of the ceremony. Mrs. Franklin Stafford! I was going to have to get used to that! Inside the hotel suite I opened a window and lit a sneaky cigarette. Frank didn’t like me to smoke but I thought it might calm my nerves. Because of the difference in our ages, (he, at 51, was almost 20 years older than me,) Frank often treated me like a little girl. In truth I kind of liked it though and so did he. It was a game we played.

Exhaling smoke out of the window I noticed my reflection in the mirror in the corner of the room. Unconsciously I smiled as I realized how beautiful I looked. The long wedding gown showed off my 34-26-34 figure perfectly, perhaps because of the tightly laced bodice I was wearing underneath. My long blonde hair was pinned up to accommodate my veil but a couple of curling strands had escaped. I would fix that before I went back down to join my husband and our guests, but first I hiked up my dress and re-adjusted my silk-stockings, garter belt and lace panties. When I saw that I once again looked quite perfect I leaned forward to close the window.

I heard a noise behind me as the hotel suite door opened and closed. Before I could turn around I felt two strong hands on my hips which pulled my bottom onto what I could feel was a VERY hard cock! I guessed my new husband just couldn’t wait till after our wedding reception to consummate our union. Flattered by his eagerness I rolled my gowned ass against his crotch and sighed softly as his hands reached up to caress my breasts. He nuzzled his face in my hair and I could hear his breathing deepen as his fingers gently pinched my nipples through my dress.

If this was married life I loved it! Perhaps because of his age, Frank wasn’t the most demanding of men, sexually speaking. We had dated for weeks before he had taken me to bed. Even after almost two years together we only had sex about once every fortnight. I would have preferred a more active man but Franklin Stafford showed his affection in other ways. The thirty thousand dollar engagement ring on my finger was proof of that. The matching earrings had cost another eighteen thousand. Frank spoiled me in his way.

But as his insistent fingers continued to stimulate my now hardening nipples as I rocked against his crotch it struck me that my horny husband was keen to exercise his conjugal rights at his first opportunity since our nuptials. I felt a delicious, tingling frisson of arousal travel from my breasts to my dampening pussy. If Mr. Franklin Stafford wanted to fuck Mrs. Franklin Stafford right here and now then that was just fine with Mrs. Franklin Stafford! I moaned now as he dropped one hand to cup my pussy through the silk of the gown. Behind me I heard him groan and catch his breath. Wanton now, I pushed myself hungrily against his hand before turning to kiss him. Eyes closed, I allowed myself to surrender. He held me firmly as we kissed and I felt his hands begin to pull up my long gown. Excited now and quite wet, I stood back to help him uncover me, breaking our kiss. I opened my glistening eyes and found myself staring in disbelief at the handsome face of Alexander Courtenay, a junior partner at my husband’s law practice.

“You TOTAL SHIT! Alex,” I cried in a stage whisper, leaping out of his embrace, “what the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

The bastard moved to sit on the bed, (My Marriage Bed!) and languidly reclined. He smiled and gave an apologetic, boyish shrug. (Damn it but he was a good-looking SOB!)

“I just wanted to say goodbye,” he purred, “I guess the best man won, huh, Vicky?”

I should explain that three years before, when I had first moved to Virginia, Alex and I had enjoyed a very brief fling. I had been willing to take it further, he had explained he wasn’t ready to settle down and we parted as friends, although I was hurt. In fact, it was at a barbecue at Alex’s house that I first met Franklin, who incidentally had no idea that I had once dated one of his junior lawyers.

“Alex, you didn’t ever try to ‘win’ me,” I snapped, “you didn’t even want me…”

“Oh, I wanted you, Vicky,” he murmured sadly, gazing at me over his Armani spectacle frames, “and as I remember it I had you more than once, Lady… And I don’t recollect you complaining… But you’re right. Seeing you walk back down the aisle with Franklin back there… I fucked up, Vick…”

“ARE YOU FUCKING CRAZY ALEX?” I shouted. “I’m the boss’s fucking wife! What do you think he’d do if he walked in here right this minute? Which He COULD! You’d lose your job and I’d be divorced before my own wedding reception!”

He looked at me and shrugged again, brushing a wayward strand of dark hair from his forehead. Incredibly, I began to smile at his discomfiture. He looked so lost and disappointed, like a 35 year old little boy… And so cute.

“Alex, you have to leave right now!” I insisted. “I’m MARRIED, Alex, I’m taken…”

“You would have been taken again if you hadn’t turned around just now,” he smiled. “And judging by the way your nipples are still poking through that pretty dress I’m guessing you would have loved it…”

I looked down and saw that the bastard was right. You could have hung two coat-hangers off my breasts. Damn it!

“Please leave now, Alex, PLEASE,” I blushed, “You know I can’t do this… We can’t do this… Please, Alex, for me…”

“I guess you’re right,” he sighed, “but come here and kiss me goodbye…” He opened his arms and, grateful that he understood, I moved over and sat down on the bed to kiss him on the cheek.

He held me gently this time and I was annoyed at the tingle of pleasure I experienced in his embrace. And then he turned his head slightly and kissed my closed lips.

“Mmmmmm, don’t, Alex,” I moaned as I felt his tongue flicker over my lipstick. And then his tongue was in my mouth and I was kissing him back with fervor. Oh Christ. I felt my nipples get even harder and as if he understood, his hands again moved to pinch and tease me there. His touch caused a gush of moist juices to soak my 300 dollar La Perla wedding panties.

Attempting to push him away even though I was still kissing him frantically, my hand inadvertently brushed against his lap and I felt his iron hard cock under the tight trousers of his morning suit. He moaned into my mouth at the pleasure of my touch and automatically I began to stroke his imprisoned tool. I mewled in passionate forbidden pleasure as I remembered how fucking big he was. What the hell was I doing?

Alex suddenly removed his left arm from my back so that I collapsed on the bed. Looking up at him I watched him cast off his tail-coat and throw it to one side. He watched me with a brooding look as his hands moved down to undo the buttons of his trousers. I was just about to protest at this when he leaned down and kissed me deeply again. And yes, I kissed him back as I felt his hand creep under my wedding gown and up my stocking clad leg.

Still with his hand under my skirt he broke off our kiss and moved back on the bed. He roughly pulled down the front of my dress causing my tits to pop over the top of my bodice. I gave a high-pitched squeal at his deliciously rough touch.

“Don’t tear the fucking gown, Alex,” I panted, and then groaned a low, “oh fuck” as he began to kiss my exposed breasts. By now his fingers were stroking at the centre of my panties and I was powerless but to spread my thighs as wide as the tight dress would allow so that he might touch me there. Feeling my by now soaked underwear he laughed softly while biting and sucking upon my nipples.

“Good, wet, girl…” He murmured with a soft laugh. And at hearing him laugh at me, knowing that he knew I’d let him do whatever he wanted, knowing that he’d turned me into a whore on my own wedding day, I felt tears sting my eyes even as my hands reached down to pull up my dress for him. He kissed my mouth again and I reciprocated while at the same time lifting my bottom off the bed so that I could pull the dress above my hips. With my thighs now released from the tight confines of the gown, I drew my silk stocking clad knees up on the bed and parted my legs, my ivory Manolo heels digging into the coverlet. I must have looked like a real whore.

“Jesus, Vicky,” whispered an awed Alex as he looked down at my splayed and sluttish display. “You look like a Princess, I’ve never seen anything as beautiful…” And pausing for a second just to eye me up and down again, he then lowered his face into the sopping centre of my now-ruined panties.

I mewled as he began to lick me there and my hands descended to stroke his long dark hair as he teasingly nuzzled and nibbled expertly at my lips and clit through the wet lace. Within seconds I had moved my hand to slide my underwear to one side and was grinding my dripping pussy against his lips and chin as my other hand pressed his face deeper into my centre.

Alex’s moans as he tasted me spurred me to raise one leg and unhook my panties and lower them over my stocking to leave them dangling from my right foot. As his tongue entered me I shook violently and opened my legs even wider. He began to lick me up and down as I felt first one, and quickly another thick finger invade me. Helpless against my passion, I raised my hips on the bed to offer more of myself to him. His fingers now forcefully stroking within me I felt his tongue concentrate at the top of my pussy. I reached down to spread myself for him and he began lapping at my clit while his fingers busied themselves deep within my belly. And he didn’t stop.

I screamed and bucked my hips furiously against his face as he made me come. And it was shattering, I’d never come as hard, EVER! Jesus, I thought I’d die…

Opening my eyes, I saw that Alex had moved upward upon the bed and was slowly stroking his huge cock. Looking at him with a combination of lewd desire and deep regret at what I was doing I noticed an odd look in his questioning, dark eyes. He looked like he wanted me, but more than that, he looked like he needed me. As I closed my eyes and reached out to touch his cock I felt two tears flow down my cheeks. I moved upward and took him into my mouth.

I can’t tell you the emotions I was feeling at that point. On one level, I just wanted to make him come so that he would leave me alone and I could go back downstairs and get on with getting married. On the other hand, I really wanted him to come for me. And so I began to deep throat him in the way I remember he loved. Deep slow sucks with a teasing swirl around his cock-head as I moved off him, then enveloping his thick tool again to the base of that filling shaft. Rapidly bobbing my head up and down but pausing and teasing as his groans got more demanding…

I was in control now. Alex may have invaded my bridal suite and debauched me at my wedding but with my mouth around his cock I was the one who was calling the shots. The knowledge caused a further tingle in my pussy as I reached down to touch myself. My God, I was going to come again…

And then he pulled away from me and threw me back upon the bed! Looking at me with a curious mix of absolute desire and helpless disgust he moved behind me and began to gather my dress above my ass.

“NO, ALEX, NO!” I cried. But I didn’t mean it… And he knew I didn’t.

He moved me forward upon the bed and arranged me so that I was on all fours in front of him. I attempted to slap his hands away but at the same time I was opening my knees on the bed so that he could have me. And my God I wanted him to have me. He pushed my dress over my shoulders and I felt his fat cock brush against my dripping pussy. I reached under my skirt to open myself for him and he entered me with a vicious thrust and commenced to fuck me.

I could see us in the mirror. I could see myself panting under the layers of the gown as he gripped my hips and pumped me furiously, his eyes in the mirror on mine as he had his way with me. He gripped my panties in one hand and twisted them tightly around my thigh as he fucked me hard. I looked at his face and saw desire and passion and, yes, love. Well, I thought so… I looked at my own panting face and saw a sweating slut who was just about to come again. And oh God I needed to! As he fucked me, deliciously, hard, I closed my eyes and I lowered my head onto the bed and I moaned and moved back upon him and as I came as I felt him deep within me… And I wanted him deeper.

Still shaking, I felt Alex pulse inside me. Once, twice, three times, I felt him splash his copious load inside me. I heard him groan and felt his fingers clench on my hips as he spent. Looking up, I moved the dress from in front of my face and looked at him in the mirror. He was bent over my back, finished now, and his long hair shielded his face.

After a time he raised his head and looked at me in the mirror. I still looked like a whore, hair and make-up ruined, dress around my head and legs spread like I was at the gynecologists… But there were tears in his eyes. He moved from me and smoothed my dress back around my naked and ruined ass. He buried his face in the nape of my neck and sighed deeply…

“Vicky,” he began…

The knock on the hotel suite door shocked us both.

We both began to frantically dress and compose ourselves as my husband Franklin’s voice boomed, “Victoria, where the hell are you, Girl, we’re all waiting...”

“I’ll be down in five minutes,” I wailed.

“You okay, Lady,” asked Franklin through the door, “We need you down here, Girl!”

“Give me five minutes,” I shouted as I scrambled into my ruined panties and caught my wanton reflection in the mirror.

“Five minutes then, Mrs,” laughed Franklin from outside as he departed… Oh shit…

Alex, looking as unperturbed as ever was dressed and standing by the door as I attempted to fix myself, I still looked like a whore, he looked like James Bond…

“I should probably go down first….” He suggested with a raised eyebrow. I noticed he was dangling my blue garter off his fingertips. He tucked it into his top pocket as I watched.

“Just go,” I snarled…

And he left…

And afterwards the rest of my wedding passed in a pleasurable blur. The food was delicious, the speeches were funny and heartwarming and the music was great. As the last of the guests retired I found myself kissing my brand-new husband in our bridal suite as his hand snaked beneath my dress…

“Oh, you wet pantied, little creamy bitch,” said Franklin as he lifted my gown and knelt before me to lick me… And he devoured me…

I closed my eyes and tried not to think about who it was that my decent husband was actually tasting….. Eventually my husband removed my panties entirely and painted my lips with the damp lace as he energetically and quickly fucked me... I licked Alex off my knickers as a groaning Frank pumped his come into my already cum-filled pussy.

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