I Do by Erica Caldwell
I was best man at my friend’s wedding. Standing there, dressed in a tux and tails, sweltering in the heat of the non-air-conditioned hall. I couldn’t think of a place I’d less like to be… until I realized that one of the bridesmaids was making eyes at me. These incredible, baby blue goo-goo eyes. I stopped praying for the thing to be finished and started paying attention to the beautiful doll all dressed up in white taffeta.
She had that pale yellow hair that looks like duck down, soft and fine as baby’s hair. For the event, it was braided against her skull, but a few of those wisps had already gotten free. I longed to undo the braids and let loose her tresses, pictured myself sitting behind her on a bed — any bed, my bed — and drawing a tortoise-shell comb through her dainty curls.
I almost missed my cue when I was supposed to pass over the rings, lost as I was in the vision nearby. Then, in answer to my unspoken wishes, the service was suddenly over and people were rushing forward to offer their congratulations.
My lush miss was lost in the crowd for a moment, but I found her, being hugged and kissed and having her hand shaken in the reception line.
“Can I borrow you for a second?” I asked, disregarding the looks from those around me. “Important wedding business,” I added, trying to sound dignified.
She gave me one more of those “melt-me-please” looks and then followed me to the back of the church.
“Who are you?” I demanded. She hadn’t been at the rehearsals.
“Cousin of the bride,” she said, softly, sweetly, tilting her head down in that adorable way many submissives do, and pulling gently on the lace of her dress.
“Aren’t you hot in that?” I asked next, steering her, as I spoke, to the room where the bride had gotten ready.
She nodded, still in that bashful way, allowing herself to be led to the room, and then further back, to the bathroom. It was in speeded-up motion that I freed her from the white fluff gown and got her down to her lace bra and panty set. She had an incredible figure, once revealed, curved where it was supposed to be curved, slender in the slenderest places. Her breasts were full and lovely in my mouth. Her scent wafted up around us until I couldn’t wait anymore and peeled her panties down her thighs, plunging my hungry tongue deep into her wet pussy.
There was a mirror on the back of the bathroom door, and I angled us so that she could watch me eat her. I checked to make sure her eyes were on the mirror, that they never strayed, and she, understanding my desire, obeyed.
She had drenched her thighs during the service, and I spent a good long time licking her clean, then parting her thighs even wider and dipping my head to get a taste of the split between her legs, to reach my tongue back to tickle her asshole.
That made her moan and grab onto my hair, and I quickly turned her so that she was bent over the sink and began reaming both of her holes with my thumb and forefinger. The noises she made were divine, and loud, and before I could stop her, before I could remind her where we were, she was moaning, “Yes, oh, yes, oh yes.”
That little voice in the back of my head, that little sane voice that I often try to stamp out, was saying, “Hush. Get back in the receiving line. Fix her up and get her out before you’re caught.”
But I couldn’t. Instead, squashing that sane little voice, I undid my slacks and freed my cock and said, “Do you want this, honey?” Rubbing it up against the moist slit of her ass, probing her with it. “Do you want this, darling? Do you want this?”
And she bent over forward, offering herself to me completely, as she moaned, over and over, in a voice that grew loud enough for the entire congregation to hear… “I do!”