tagNovels and NovellasThe Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 15m

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 15m

byPAUL C©

The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 15m: Another June Wedding Part 13

(Copyright 2001 by Paul. All rights reserved).

All events and characters are fictitious.


* * * * *

Somerset 1972.

Jenny Wagstaffe.

We left the Marquee in the walled garden at Paul's grandfather's cottage at seven o'clock. We walked hand in hand across the lawns and up the terraces to the French windows with Millie, Paul's dog, bounding around our legs. Saying thank you to our guests and receiving their congratulations in return.

Paul had made his speech at the wedding breakfast after Steve and my father had made theirs. I liked the last part best of all.

"And to those who wish to know why I choose to get married I can tell you." He'd said. He'd looked down at me and I'd held his hand. "It's because I love her."

He sat down, put his arm around my waist and kissed me on the lips. I'd wished we'd been alone at that moment.

We were now.

We climbed up the stairs to his bedroom. I led the way. I could imagine him watching my ass cheeks as they moved beneath my wedding dress. He didn't need to. It was my intention that he saw an awful lot of them that night.

As he closed the door to his bedroom I turned to face him and with my arms around his neck, pulled his mouth down to my own. Our lips touched then opened. I could feel the tip of his tongue against my teeth and gums and touched it with my own. We fenced for a second then I pulled my tongue back drawing his further inside my mouth.

His hands were roaming over my back reaching down to my ass cheeks. There was far too much material for him to feel them properly. I broke our kiss and looked him in the eye.

"We had best get dressed ready to leave." I could feel his prick, hard against my belly.

I ran my fingers down his cheek.

"You know your mother." I continued. "She'll have the stop watch out knowing to the second how long it should take us to get ready."

"You're right." He agreed with a sigh. "It's just that I haven't seen you alone for days."

"You'll see a lot of me tonight." I kissed his chin. "I promise you that."

I turned my back towards him.

"Here." I said over my shoulder. "Unzip me please."

I didn't appreciate how constricting the bodice of my wedding dress had been until he slowly pulled down the zip. I could breathe.

He picked up my dress after I'd stepped out of it and hung it on it on a hanger from his wardrobe as I pulled my slip over my head and undid the heavy under-wired bra I'd had to wear. I rubbed my breasts to restore the circulation.

Paul stood in front of me watching. He rubbed his prick through his trousers.

"You have to get changed as well." I told him.

It must prove that a man loves you if he can see you in your tights and still want you.

I peeled off my garter from my left thigh and dropped it into my small suitcase that held my overnight things and a change of clothing for the morning. That night we were going to the best hotel in Taunton. We would then be driving up to London and staying overnight in the flat and catching the plane to Malaga on Monday afternoon.

I peeled off my tights and stood there in only my panties. Should I give him the full view? Better not. He'd want to have me here and now and I wouldn't put up too much of a struggle.

Oh no. He was moving closer. He'd taken off his jacket and waistcoat. He was wearing braces on his trousers. He slipped the straps off his shoulders as he walked towards me. His fingers were at the fastenings of his trouser top. He was undoing it, unzipping himself. I could feel myself getting wet. Not moist, wet.

We did have time for a quick one if he really wanted it. I knew I did.

He kissed my cheek and walked past me to where his clothes were hanging over the back of the chair by his small desk. He stepped out of his dress trousers and threw them onto the bed, his shirt followed. He was wearing white 'Y fronts'. He was picking up his checked shirt and putting it on.

I wasn't having that.

I pulled my panties off and coughed. He turned his head towards me and looked me up and down.

"We really must get dressed." He said matter of factly. "We haven't time for anything else."

I would have believed him if it weren't for his hard-on making a tent inside his underpants. I moved towards him and placed my hand upon it. I could feel it throbbing. I pushed my hand inside his underpants and cupped his balls. His own hand was already squeezing my ass cheeks, a finger searching between them for my anus.

I pulled his foreskin back and forth a couple of times. He rubbed my anus. His other hand was feeling one of my breasts then my belly, and then my pubic hairs until the tip of one finger just touched my clit. I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his shoulder. He kissed the hair on the top of my head. I sighed gently.

He moved his hands and guided me to the bed. I was going to turn to face him but he gently pushed me forward. I knew what he wanted and knelt on the edge of the bed with my head towards the window that overlooked the garden below. Thankfully the curtains had be closed.

His hands were on my ass cheeks, pulling them apart and I felt the tip of his prick touching my anus. He rubbed it against it and I sighed again. It felt really nice. He pushed against it so gently. I could feel my hole opening slightly then he pulled back and moved his prick down to the lips of my fanny. I tried to open my knees wider to give him better access and arched my back. The muscles in my stomach region contracted as he entered me. He pushed a couple of inches in at first then pulled out. A little further in next time then out again. The next thrust took him fully inside me. I felt his balls banging against my clit. His hands were on my hips now as he started stroking in and out of me. I moaned with pleasure. He was moving faster. I could feel my orgasm building. Felt the peak around my clit and spread throughout my entire body. He was still moving. I tried to squeeze my fanny around his prick to make it tighter for him. I heard him groaning and panting. Then with a thrust that quite drove the breath from my body I felt him jerking inside me.

He was breathing heavily as if he'd run a race. He stood there with his prick still inside me as his breathing slowly returned to normal then pulled himself from me.

I turned to face him, sitting on the edge of the bed with his shiny, wet prick inches from my face. He couldn't put that inside his underpants so I picked up my used panties and cleaned it for him finishing by giving his little wee hole a kiss.

I stood up and he kissed me. I could feel him growing again.

"Later Tiger," I said, kissing his nose, "let's get dressed."

"I've never had a married woman before." Paul observed.

"I should hope not." I retorted.

We hurriedly dressed and threw some last minute things into our overnight bags then made our ways downstairs. Hudson and Len were standing at the foot of the stairs and took our cases from us as we went back out into the gardens through the French windows. I carried my wedding bouquet.

People were piling out of the Marquee and forming a processional avenue to the bridge over the stream at the bottom of the garden the other side of which there stood an open topped carriage with two horses and a driver in old fashioned livery.

I kissed so many people goodbye. We crossed the bridge stopped for photo's then climbed into the carriage.

"Aren't you throwing you bouquet?" Paul asked.

"No. Not this time." I replied.

"You're planning on another time already?"

"Don't be silly." I gave his hand a squeeze.

We both waved as the carriage moved off. I could hear some shouts of disappointment from the Spinsters of the parish but I had something I wanted to do.

The cans somebody had tied to the back of the carriage started clattering as we moved off the Bridle path and onto the metalled road. We were to be driven through this village of Chipping Marsden to the next village called Chipping Burton where a hire car would be waiting in the pub car park to take us into Taunton.

We passed the church, the ground covered with confetti, and through the village proper. Past the village shop and post office then to the disused Catholic chapel and Cemetery. I called to the driver to stop at the gates and climbed out with Paul following.

"What are you doing?" He asked.

"Something for your mother." I said and squeezed through the rusted gates.

I heard them scrapping behind me as Paul pushed them further apart then he caught me up and held my hand. We stopped at the graves of Alistair and Natasha. I looked at Paul then placed my bouquet on Alistair's grave. I could feel the tears well up in my eyes and start to run down my cheeks.

"That's nice that you should have thought of them." Paul said placing his arm around my waist.

I turned to face him.

"What's wrong?" He asked, brushing the tears from my cheeks with his fingertips.

I didn't answer. I couldn't speak.

"Let's go." He said and led me away. "No more tears. You're a married woman now."

This really is the end.

This was to have been Part 1 of Spanish Honeymoon but I think it will fit in better here.

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