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Not Our Wedding
It was a humid summer afternoon, when we made our heading to this place on the waterfront, overlooking the beach. It has been a while since we’ve both met the couple, but since we were part of their social ring, and the fact that they both had little family — most of the wedding guests were friends, to different level of closeness. We weren’t THAT close, but enough to feel compelled to show.
My lovely wife had a swirling summer dress on, one that accented her natural beauty and discernable assets. I had a set of plain trousers and short-sleeved polo shirt, my almost everyday uniform, with the twist of a little tie for the more formal part of the evening. Though it was hot, the cool wind from the sea made it all much more bearable.
The wind had also a secondary effect: with the occasional gust, my beloved’s dress would swirl around her legs, either making the dress hog her body tighter or revealing some appetizing thigh. Anyway, by the time we’ve reached the place I was hot, and not for the ceremony.
We got in and found our seat — thank the lord for A/C! — And got some drinks on the way. Soft music was playing and it seems that things were already underway: usually those things don’t start on time, but the hot weather and midweek timing of the event got people in a hurry to get to the important part, the food. We got up to escort the couple to the ceremonial alter, along with the rest of the crowd, and as the blessings from the host began to sound, we withdrew a bit to avoid the high-pitched speakers.
I had my hand on her waist as we stood by and watched when she leaned backwards and rested her head on my chest.
“I was so scared when I was there,” she pointed her chin toward the bride, standing clad in white adjacent from the alter, “…I could barely breath. Then I looked at you,” she turned, looking me deep in the eyes, “and I knew everything will be all right.” I leaned my head down and she stretched her neck as we kissed slowly, deeply, lovingly. My tongue moved out to caress her lips as she parted them, letting me in. carefully. I threw my arms around her, pulled her close and tight — as so we stayed for a few heartbeats.
When we detached, she cuddled herself against me, resting her head on my chest. “Do you still feel that way?” I asked silently. She nodded without raising her head, and I planted a kiss on her forehead. That’s when a cry of joy came from the crowd — the ceremony was over.
We moved with the crowd back to our table, to discover that our table-buddies are a vibrant group of friends, hailing from the south of the country, where the groom is from. We hit if off immediately, with my friendly attitude and lame jokes cracking the ice, and my wife’s calculated cynicism putting the spice in the conversation. We kept touching each other during the evening, as if to assure each other of the other’s presence — or just for the feel of it. Time flew without any of us noticing, and soon came the point where all the elderly left, and the remaining guests were mostly on the dancefloor; we remained alone, once again.
We held hands, enjoying each other’s presence and the relative silence, when my dear spoke with a soft tone it. “I need to go freshen up. Do you see where the bathroom is?” I looked around, but saw no indication, so we both got up and headed toward the entrance, and sure enough — there was a sign for the washroom. I took Edirne Escort a position by the door as she walked in, only to be startled a moment later by her semi-muffled call: “Honey! Come in! You have to see this!” I took a glance both left and right, saw no one and entered the ladies bathroom.
Just as I stepped in, the door shut and clicked behind me. The room had a long marble sink facing the wall on the right, and a passage to what seemed to be a line of closed booths containing, I imagined, toilets. But the dominant feature of the room was a huge, full-faced mirror surrounding the viewer, covering all but the door’s wall and opening, allowing for a panoramically reflection of oneself and his surroundings. This is how I saw the source of the click sound on the door: my wife was behind me, her hand on the door’s handle and lock.
“This is…impressive.” I muttered, viewing the figure behind me as it moved from the door towards me, while I remained motionless. Her hands were soon caressing my chest, as she hugged me from behind, breathing by my ear: “You think THIS is impressive?”
She turned me around, then grabbed and pulled me for a long, lustful kiss. Her tongue danced and swirled in my mouth, firing me up like a torch. We embraced tight; I could feel her ample bosom rubbing against me through the thin fabric of her dress and my shirt, and my eyebrow shot up. She noticed and broke our kiss, leaning back in my grasp, smiling devilishly.
“Feeling something, dear?” and without losing her smile she came close again, “I’m not wearing something more. Care to guess?”
A raging boner came into life, as I pulled her close to me, to sniff her scent and plant a hungry kiss at the base of her neck, causing her to tickle and laugh; I could see and feel her nipples harden through the dress.
When I came up for air, she grabbed me for another stormy, love-full and lust-dripping smooch that left me breathless (again), then broke out of my hold and marched over to the long, sleek sink, and stood in front of it, touching it with her hand. “Cold…”
Then she raised her dress, exposing her magnificent pearl bottom, and pulled herself up to the counter. When her exquisite tush hit the cold surface, she shivered slightly. That somehow made me even hornier than ever.
The muffled sounds of music indicated the party was at full swing; it also appeared nobody has taken notice of our leaving, at the least not enough to come looking.
I quickly joined her at the sink, hands tracing her legs and thighs towards her stomach and butt. She looked at me with horny-hungry eyes and said: “I’ve been thinking about this since the moment I put this dress on!” just before she kissed me again, passionately but briefly.
“Now eat me. Make me scream. I dare you!”
I plunged down to the mysteries and treasures of her crotch, surprised and thankful for my amazing fortune to me married to such an amazing, sexy and loving woman. Then all rational thought ceased, as the wonderful taste of my wife greeted my tongue and her scent filled the air; she was horny, all right. The moans came right after.
I pleasured my wife, sitting on the cold basin, with no bra and no panties, having her wishes answered with my tongue exploring her clit. We BOTH made happy noises while at it, since I love eating her out and she loves orgasms; win-win situation.
After a few moments of licking, Edirne Escort Bayan I could feel her muscles contract, as the wave of pleasure crashed through her; how she did not scream I did not know, but I did know that I did not fulfil her wish. I redoubled my efforts, causing her to grab my hair tight, and with teeth clenched — she came again. And sure enough — again she did not get what she wished for.
This time I pulled her to a stand from the counter. When she slipped off I noticed how wet it has become, and my dick started pulsating with anticipation; but not just yet:
I propped her up against the wall, kneeled on one knee beside her and said: “sexy honey, look how amazing and sexy you are. I want you to see how extraordinary you look when you cum.” and with that I raised her leg on my shoulder, leaned her against the wall — and re-assumed licking fiercely. This time, no restraints were incorporated, and as her hands searched the wall for hold she cried out in joy and delight, happiness and pleasure — and I tongue-fucked the hell out of her, until she could take it no more, and collapsed on me.
I stopped her from crashing to the floor, and with my beard well soaked by her love-juices, I got up and held her, as she regained herself. In the background, I could hear the best man giving a toast.
She said nothing, but instead let herself rest against me, one hand fidgeting around my belt buckle and the evident bulge in my pants. I looked down at her as she regained some of her strength, enough to tug on the buckle and open it, then reach inside the pants and undies and grab hold of my cock’s base and balls.
“Hmmm… that feels nice…” she almost whispered, “Just what I need after such a great lick. I need it — care to fuck me?” she said as she looked back up at me.
I didn’t answer, but instead moved us both back to the sink, so she can have something to hold on to. I could also feel her regaining her footing, as she grabbed the counter and leaned against it — making eye contact through the mirror.
“You love it when I tell you to FUCK ME, don’t you?” she accented the words as she flanged the back of her dress up, exposing her ass.
“Oh yes, baby. I love to make love to you but especially enjoy FUCKING YOU SILLY,” I retorted, while I pulled my dick out and positioned myself behind her — while maintaining eye contact, “how would you like to have me now?” I asked finally.
Her hand shifted so now it was beneath her, grabbing my balls and pulling me closer. My long, hard member ran freely between her lubricated butt cheeks, pointing up as I pressed against her when she pulled my balls. I heard her inhale sharply.
“I want that COCK inside of me –” (first turn-on word)
“I want you to CUM inside me — (second turn-on word)
“…when you are done FUCKING ME HARD!” — (well…you get the point)
I drilled her so hard, at some point I thought I’ll break the sink. Her warm, welcoming vulva, all lubed up by my prior efforts, was wrapped so tight around my rock hard shaft, it felt like it was giving me a blowjob. With every thrust, the sound of my hip striking against her ample ass amplified my desire for her; at one point I almost drooled all over her back from the sound of moans she was making, caused by my rigorous fucking. I rammed her so damn hard — I could hear her gasp a few times from the sheer force of my motions. Escort Edirne I got turned on by fucking her brains out — which made me want to bang her even harder.
In the back of my mind, I could discern that they had moved to the point in the party, where they dance the train and the Macarena. Good times.
Suddenly and without warning, I pulled out, pulled her upright, turned her around and pulled her to a sitting position on the counter again, her ass hitting the marble with a loud wet slap; she was flabbergasted. I haven’t even allowed her time to recover and dove again to the wonders of her pussy — I’ve developed an appetite for her warm, wet cunt mid-fuck and wanted to quench it right there and then. She tried to push me at first, then caved in and began to enjoy the sudden change — thus shooting very quickly to another ecstatic orgasm, arching her back and moaning loudly within a few moments of vibrant licking and suckling. Eating her out only made me want her more — by this time the both of us are all wet and sweaty and lubricated, sex has become very animalistic and savage.
When she came a second time (I’ve lost count of her total orgasms count) she leaned forward for me to catch; she was hazy, a bit dehydrated but mostly fucked out of her mind. “I need you to cum in me, love.” She said softly, still ajar from the intense waves of pleasure ravaging her to the core. “I need to feel you inside me, filling me up. Just go a little slow — I can’t stand straight.”
I leaned her back against the mirror above the counter, then drew near with my cock pointing at her. Luckily, the height of the sink was just right, and I could enter my beloved’s sex without any adjustment. She was so slick I thought I might slip in unnoticed — but as I penetrated her slowly, her eyes closed and a smile came to her face, she was concentrating to feel me better. I moved back and forth slowly, indulging myself on my own personal porn star and sex kitten, enjoying the view as well as the feeling.
We ended up making slow love, and after a few minutes of this I whispered to her that I’m about to come. She nodded for approval and placed her palm on my belly. I gave a few faster thrusts and burst inside her, going as deep as I could, so only my balls remained to press against her opening. She gaped a bit, concentrating on the feeling. Then we embraced, with me inside of her, and allowed for our hearts to synchronize pulse, our breaths to coordinate rhythm. The music kept playing all along — it was the slow dances turn now.
When we awoke from our state of stillness, we found ourselves dripping wet, covered in love nectar, smelling heavily of raw sex. We uncoupled ourselves from one another, then cleaned up. My wife’s dress was crumpled, as well as had stains in several places — but due to the nature of those stains, we were sure that a short walk would not be a big risk. The same goes for my shirt. When she approved us looking presentable, she drew near and gave me a kiss. A peck on the lips. “Thank you, dear. I needed that. It is good to feel the flame burning strong and bright from time to time, not to forget why we are doing…all that we are doing.” She said as comfort and reassurance replaced the surprise on my face. I held her close, for I was at a loss of words.
She checked the corridor before we embarked — surprisingly no one came to use the bathroom while we were there — and as we turned the corner to the entrance hall, we caught a glimpse of another couple creeping silently toward the same place we just left. We looked at each other and smiled as we walked out of the ballroom and onto the beach. The stars were shining with all their bright…
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