I knew Maggie was pissed. She spent a lot of time putting together all her wedding plans, as most brides do. But now she found herself mostly through her own reception, and her new groom was hammered in the first degree. Not only was he wasted, he was overtly giving attention to anything with tits who stopped to wish him well. She shouldn't have been totally shocked. That's how Clint always was. He was a young doctor who graduated from all the degree fields early, incredibly brilliant, and needed to feel revered. Maggie was one of his med students, and they'd started "talking" while he was still married to his first wife. So none of this really should have come as a total shock. But I figured he'd have the presence of mind to hold himself together on their wedding day.

For some reason she had confided in me about her frustrations with their engagement, his attitude about certain things in their relationship. I was constructive in my statements. On paper, they fit together brilliantly. But it didn't take much to see that in practice, it wasn't going to work. I left breadcrumbs to let her understand it on her own and said everything short of "don't do it", but she never got there on her own.

So now she found herself here; watching her new groom act a fool, embarrassing them both.

The night pressed on, and the reception crowd thinned. I was ready to be done for the night, myself. I had pressed into mild intoxication once or twice that day, then pulled back knowing I had a long drive home the next morning. But before I headed for the hotel where the wedding party and most guests were staying, I managed a quick dance with the bride to say my good nights.

""You warned me about this, didn't you," she said flatly. "I mean, you didn't say so, but I'm looking now at the sum of the parts."

"You asked my opinion. I told you the facts as I saw them, that's all."

Of course she was totally right. But how could you say that to a new and upset bride?

"Maggie, for what it's worth, it's not just you I would've told not to do this. Clint isn't ready for this either. By the numbers, you guys fit together perfectly. But come on, how much stock can you put in someone who was willing to date someone, who was a student of his by the way, before being divorced? Whether the relationship was bad or not, he never came to grips with the process. He's not ready for another marriage. Does it help at all to know you look fantastic?"

She did, too. I know nothing of wedding dresses other than they're expensive and worn once. But she looked fantastic in if. It was a lovely hue near to ivory which looked great against her tanned skin. It was cut low enough to look sexy but not so low it was trashy. The train had been short enough to handle on her own while walking.

"So much for the rest of my 'wedding night'," she sighed while nodding to a corner table where Clint had his head down, questionably conscious.

"Ha. Looks that way," I offered trying laugh it off. "Come swing by my room later, I'll hook you up," I grinned to her trying add levity. "Look, I gotta jet and get some sleep. Enjoy Mexico. And I could be totally wrong about all this stuff, you know?"

"Yeah, maybe. But somehow I doubt it," she replied. "We'll catch up with you after the trip. Thanks for the dance."

I wanted to say I was surprised when I got a knock on my door, but I really wasn't.

I was only just getting out of my suit and Maggie was welcoming herself in. She was still in her wedding dress, which seemed odd. But it wasn't that long ago that we had parted. Her brow was slightly furrowed, and she was showing a brilliantly white and somehow cunning smile.

"You're not really here-"

"To fuck? Yeah, I am. I spent a lot of money on this dress and too much time in the gym to look this good in it. I'm getting laid on my wedding night," she said in a most flat and curt manner.

I closed the distance between us and her dress made a bristling sound as I pressed her against the wall. I ran my hands down the smooth skin of here bare shoulders to her wrists, then swiftly moved her arm up to hold her arms over her head. Holding them with one hand, I traced her mech with the other, offering small kisses all over her collarbone, and down to the very top of her breasts.

"I'm not even going to ask if you want to reconsider," I breathed into her ear.

I released her arms and slid them down to her hips. She wrapped her arms around my neck as our lips met. We continued to kiss more fiercely and deeply until our mouth were pried open by our vigorous tongues. My hands tried to cup her ass, but there was too much bustled material in the way. By now, she had expertly undone my belt. Heat the in the room grew. She pumped my shaft with one hand while the other began to massage my sack. Working in a tight space, she squeezed a bit too ambitiously causing me to break our kiss.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry," she quickly offered.

"It's cool," I grimaced a bit. "Just give me a second."

We giggled a bit about the irony of the miscue. Then in a deft movement, I bent to sweep her off her feet and carry her to the bed as any bride should be. Laying her out across the massive bed, I slid down the length of her body, all the way to her ankles. Taking the dress a handful at a time, I buried myself under the material, blindly working my way up her thighs until I found the tiniest piece of lace material which barely containing her desperately waiting pussy. I licked playfully around the edges of her panties as we laughed at my futility, trying to find my way around until what seemed to be one hundred pounds of wedding dress. How to women wear these things?

I slid myself back out and stripped off my remaining undershirt.

"Let me go take this dress off," she offered. "Then we can try again."

"In just a minute. There's something else I want to do first. Come here," I said offering my hand to help her up.

"I lead her across the room to the desk on the far side of the room.

Then turned her around to put her hands on the desk, I stood behind her and pulled up her veil to kiss her bare back. Again, I fought to grab handfuls of dress that stood between us, finally exposing her nearly bare ass. It was as perfectly tanned as the rest of her, and covered only by the thinnest strings off the lace thong that was covering her sex. I let my pants fall to the floor leaving my cock standing at attention.

"There's something about the idea of fucking a bride still in her dress that I like," I whispered in her ear.

I nudged her legs apart and pulling her panties aside, slid my shaft in between her lips of her pussy. Her back arched and she pressed back into me as I did all I could to penetrate deeper. She purred lightly with my strokes as I worked to keep her dress up and out of the way. It wasn't for the pleasure. It was for the novelty.

"Alright. Now you can go take this thing off," I told her, sliding my cock free.

"Give me a minute. I think I can get out without help," she said, toddling off to the bathroom.

A few minutes later, she opened the door. The bedroom was dark, and the light from the bathroom shone a silhouette. She slid the door closed and my eyes adjusted. She still looked dressed, standing in the dim light seductively biting her lower lip. Then she opened her arms, only holding her dress, and let it fall to the floor to expose her nearly naked body. Her curves were perfect. Her stomach was flat and smooth. Her tits were pert and identical. All that was left were her tiny white panties, thigh high white stockings, and a garter belt I had failed to notice before.

Something was missing.

"Put your veil back on," I ordered.

She disappeared and came back with her veil on, flowing about her tanned shoulders and naked back. Perfect.

I slid to the foot of the bed and placed my hands to hold her hips. I kissed her belly down to the band of her panties, and up her ribs to the birth of her tits. She lifted one leg to kneel on the bed as I caressed her ass. My hand found its way down her hip, over her lone garter, down the thigh high to the white nylon covering her perfect pedicured toes. Any man that says thigh highs aren't the sexiest thing on a woman is a liar.

She pushed me to my back and straddled my chest, holding me down with her hands at the shoulders. Her head rolled back with a deep, slow moan as she ground her pussy lips about my stomach. She left a path of moisture as she slid down to grind her lacy pussy over my cock, kissing me deeply. Then continuing down my body, she flicked her tongue on her pussy's path, tasting her own wetness, and fucking my dick between her flawless tits.

"Maggie, you keep this up and I'm going to cum, and way too soon," I warned.

She paid no attention as she took the length of my shaft into her mouth until her chin was touching my balls. She paused for a second, pulled her head back, and sucked the length again, and again.

I took a handful of her hair to pull her off my dick for fear I would cum. Pulling her up to me, I threw her over on her back, and knelt between her legs. Grabbing the band of her panties, I lifted straight up, pointing her toes to the ceiling. She quickly reached up and stole them from my hand. Reaching between her legs, she began to finger herself with lace-clad fingers. With one ankle on my shoulder, I seized the other with both hands.

I began by kissing the instep of her foot. Then I worked from heal to toe, rubbing where wasn't being kissed. Then one by one, I sucked and nibbles her delicate toes through the soft material. I would pause occasionally to watch her pleasuring her wet snatch, then trade to service her other toes, the free foot teasing my nipples. Finally I took one foot in each hand and held them together around my cock. The delicate touch and taboo nature urged my to cum, so again I stopped.

Sliding my head between her thighs to assault her cunt with my mouth. My tongue hammered her clit as I worked one to three fingers deep inside her. She squirmed bit with gentle moans, but I wanted more response. I put my hands behind her knees and pushed them back. Then with a reckless abandon, fired my tongue against her puckered asshole.

She screamed like a whore, and her pussy began to leak more.

She grabbed me forcefully by the hair and pulled me up to her. Then putting a stocking foot in my chest, shoved me on my back. Before I could make sense of the confusion, she had us in a 69, taking my shaft in her mouth and grinding her puss on my face at the same time. I rubbed her thighs deeply with my free hands as I did all I could to keep my mouth on her sex. I ran my hands down her legs and once again to endulge my love of beautiful nylon-covered feet. She seemed to enjoy it too, so. Kept at it.

"Maggie, I'm gonna cum," I panted, knowing there was no stopping it this time.

"Me too. I'm so close," she said, popping my cock from her mouth. "Fingers, I need fingers!"

I let got of her delicate foot with my right hand and did all I could to keep licking her clit while fingering her hole. She had stopped sucking and was now pumping my cock with her hand while flicking her tongue over my head.

"Oohhhh fuuuuck, that's it," she whined and an orgasm took her.

Moisture surged again and I was sent over the edge. My cum splattered all over her lips, hands, chin, and cheeks.

She dismounted and turned to look at me. We were dripping one another's sweat and sex.

"Wow. That... that was a, that was a big one," I stammered like an idiot. "Sorry."

"For what," she asked.

"Well, not getting you laid on your wedding night."

She shook her head solemnly. Wiping my cum from her face with her fingers, she seductively licked them clean. The remaining jism she wiped on her veil.

"You didn't really think we were done, did you?"