Always a Bridesmaid

The kisses were deep, passionate and wet. Once they started, some unknown force took over our bodies and suddenly we were falling onto the bed without knowing how we got there. I landed on top of him, straddling him, and I was vaguely aware of him kicking off his sandals as my hips moved again, grinding my panties down onto his cargo shorts. And the kissing continued.

We seemed to come to our senses at the same time. The passion didn't screech to a halt, but it slowed considerably. We were staring at each other, breathing hard but realizing we were doing something commonly known as a "bad idea."

"Oh my god, Kiki, I'm so sorry, I --" I felt his body tense, and I knew he was getting ready to push himself up from the bed, forcing me to move off him and clearing the way for him to bolt to the door and escape into the night. But I realized I really didn't want him to leave yet.

"Shhh, Marcus, it's okay," I said, putting a finger to his lips. "It's okay, it's not your fault, and we didn't even do anything yet. Just breathe...."

"Okay," he said, and I felt him relax beneath me. "It's just, I can't --"

"We're not, Marcus. We're not going to...we're not gonna fuck, okay? But just hold me for a few minutes."

"Of course," he said. "I'm here for you, Kiki."

We were back to snuggling, and it felt almost perfect, but something was bothering me. I realized it was the cheap perfume I'd noticed earlier. It was very strong on his t-shirt.

"You guys went to a strip club?" I asked.

"Yeah, how did you -- oh, the perfume, sorry. Does it bother you?"

The perfume itself didn't bother me, it was the thought of another woman rubbing against him like I was now. Marcus wasn't my man, but for the moment he was, and I didn't feel like sharing him. I lifted my upper body away from him, giving him his first clear look at my bare breasts, and the look of awe on his face made my heart flutter. And then I took off his shirt...

...and lowered myself back onto him...

...my breasts touching his warm skin, fitting softly into the hard ridges of his muscles...

"Oh my god," I whispered, and my body was suddenly filled with bliss. He groaned as I started grinding on him again. His hands were more insistent now, taking longer, deeper strokes on my body and then he grabbed my ass and pulled me harder against him. He thrust up against me and behind the thin barrier of my panties, I felt myself open for him. I was melting inside, and it was flowing out of my now open pussy, soaking through my thong...

"Your shorts," I murmured. "Maybe we should..." I rose again, sitting back on his thighs and undoing the top button of his cargo shorts.

"Are you sure?" he asked. "Maybe we..."

"It's okay. I just don't wanna get my...don't wanna get me all over them. We're not gonna...do anything..."

I started pulling off his shorts, expecting to see boxer briefs or whatever happened to be his underwear of choice, but instead a large and extremely hard cock with a glistening tip appeared. No underwear? I recalled a male friend once telling me some guys go commando to strip clubs for reasons that I guess are pretty obvious: enhanced sensation, greater freedom of movement, easy access. Apparently, Marcus had been following that line of reasoning.

I suppose this might have been a good time to stop, but...no. I stared. Like everything thing else about Marcus, his cock was beautiful. I got his shorts all the way off, straddled him again, and lowered by dripping pussy right down onto the length of his warm, throbbing shaft.

I was so wet that even in my panties I could slide easily along him. I lifted my upper body, putting more of my weight on that place where we were joined. His hands found my breasts...caressing, massaging, teasing my achingly hard nipples. The feeling was exquisite.

"Oh my god," I moaned. "That feels sooo good..."

"Maybe we shouldn't --"

"We're not...It's okay Marcus, just...ohhh...we're not doing anything."

We had that flimsy safety net, from when we said we weren't going to fuck. It gave us confidence to explore the territory just short of fucking, and that's what we did. His strong hands touched me and gripped me everywhere: my breasts, my hips, my thighs, my ass. I ground harder and harder against him, my clit tingling, my pussy opening and draining its nectar onto him like a slow-moving river. As I stroked up and down, the situation got wetter, slipperier, more dangerous.

I wanted to kiss him again, feel his lips and tongue on mine, but he was quite a bit taller than me, so I had to lift my body up and forward to reach him, breaking our groin-to-groin contact. The kiss was dizzying and wonderful, but after a moment my lips were satisfied, and my pussy was once again clamoring for attention. I lowered myself back down to start grinding again...

...and that's when everything changed...

I misjudged my move, and instead of landing on his shaft, I ended up a bit short of the target. The head of his cock got tangled in my panties, and as I pressed downward, instead of me sliding freely on him, he was pushing the wet fabric up into me, with the first couple inches of cock right behind. It was only a little bit, and the panties were in the way, but...for the first time, he was inside me.

Our eyes met, and we shared a look of surprise and awe. I wiggled my hips trying to free him from this trap, but it had the opposite effect. My pussy quivered and opened a bit more. The mesh material stretched against the pressure and he sunk deeper into me, maybe a couple more inches. If felt like he was probably halfway in.

"Your panties," he whispered. "They're...we're not...we're not fucking, right?"

"No...we're not...mmm...just...it's okay, just for a minute..."

And we lay like that, just for a minute, and then another, afraid to move forward but too intoxicated by the sensation to move back. The little thong was no longer a garment on me, but an instrument of pleasure. Tight fabric pressed on my inner walls, taught against my clit and rosebud, straps digging not quite painfully into my hips.

"Should we stop?" he asked finally.

"No, it's okay...we're not really doing anything, if we don't move too much."

But of course we moved. Our bodies were pulsing and throbbing with pleasure, and it was hard to keep still. Each movement, no matter how tiny, sent waves of ecstasy through my body and let him sink deeper into me.

Would we have stopped eventually, coming to our senses, and calling it a night while we could still say we didn't really fuck? Or would we have cast aside my flimsy panties and our flimsier excuses and just done the deed?

We'll never know, because fate decided for us. I felt a little pop up inside me, then a tearing sensation. At first I thought it was me, but no, it was the panties, stretched to their limit, finally giving way.

It was a feeling strangely reminiscent of losing my virginity, minus the pain: a shield, doing its best to protect me from a ravaging invader, suddenly ripping, surrendering, allowing him complete freedom to invade and plunder my most precious inner sanctum.

Now his thick shaft slid freely up into me and I dropped onto him, my clit banging hard onto his pelvis as the tip of his cock touched my furthest limit and his swollen testicles snuggled into my ass.

He was balls deep inside me now, bare and raw and swimming naked in my river of passion.

"Fucking hell," he breathed, but it was said in a tone of wonder and bliss, not exasperation.

I shivered, quivered...and came. My body tensed, my pussy convulsed, and a hot liquid surge flowed from deep inside me out onto his cock, my shredded panties, his balls, the bed...I opened my eyes, and he was staring at me open-mouthed.

"Did you...?"

"Yes," I sighed. "I'm sorry, I couldn't help it."

"It's okay. It was an accident. We still didn't really fuck."

"No," I said. "Not fucking. If we were fucking, you'd be wearing a condom." And that was so ridiculous that we both laughed out loud.

He was big. Very big. I was filled, I was stretched, I was feeling this incredible mixture of pain and pleasure in my very core. I could feel big thick veins, I could feel shredded remnants of my panties, I could feel the slightly warmer temperature and slipperier texture of his precum leaking into me and mixing with my own creamy sauce. I felt him throb and pulse inside me, and even though we lay still, I felt another orgasm, much larger, building in my liquid depths.

"We should stop," he said, and he didn't sound very sure, and it wasn't what I wanted to hear, but of course he was right. I sighed and bit my lip, and reluctantly started to lift myself off of him, his cock slowly sliding out of me. I'd been stretched to my limit, and as he withdrew, my canal tightened behind him, displaced muscles and organs and panty fabric sliding back to their original positions. He had a sad, longing, surprised look on his face, as if he'd never expected me to agree to stopping.

At the very end I paused. Only the tip of his cock was still inside, held there mostly by the underside of my clit. I held that position as a breeze from the open balcony caressed us, tickling my wet tummy and thighs, cooling his now exposed shaft. He shivered as my moisture evaporated from his inflamed skin.

"I just wonder," I said, "what it would feel like..."

"...wonder?"

"Wonder what it would feel like to...actually fuck..."

"Oh," he said, "yes...."

"I just wanna feel it," I said. "Just once, just a sample, just to know...don't you?"

"Yesss..."

I don't know if he really knew what I meant, really understood what he'd consented to, but I sure as hell did. My hips tensed, my thighs tightened, and I...

...SLAMMED down onto him with all my strength. His huge steel pipe of a cock tore me open again, sending new waves of pain and pleasure throughout my body. He groaned loud and his eyes rolled back into his head slightly and when they refocused on me, there was a look of reverence and worship.

"Oh god," he croaked, "oh my fucking god!"

"Oh, that felt..."

"...good..."

"So fucking..."

"...good..."

"One more maybe?"

"Oh yes..."

I lifted, paused, and slammed down hard onto him again. He made a deep growling sound and his eyes looked wild and I heard a higher whimpering which I realized was coming from me. I rose and dropped again, this time without asking permission, and then again.

And now the excuses and rationalizations were gone, and we were fucking. Hard and fast and wild, I was lifting and dropping with aggression, and he was thrusting up powerfully each time to meet me, and these were rough, violent collisions that would leave bruises we would feel for days.

Our bodies were in synch and our rhythm was right, until a beast moved deep within me and I stiffened and tensed and froze and he kept hammering into me from below, and then I came again, much harder than before, and I let out a yell and a shriek that I knew would be easy for other hotel guests to hear, and I didn't care. I convulsed and my body throbbed, and a warm explosion travelled out of my core, into my chest and arms and legs and hands and feet, and even my fingers and toes tingled as the orgasm ripped through me.

Under other circumstances, a woman's lover might have slowed and waited to make sure it was okay to continue after such a powerful climax. But Marcus, I could tell, was on final approach, there was no time left to abort the landing. He forced me to ride through it, to keep going as he railed me in search of his own release.

It happened on my upstroke, his cock almost all the way out. "I'm cumming," he growled, and I felt him pulsing and splattering into the shallow end if my canal. A little of his cum was inside, but this would have been the time to avoid the whole load. This would've been the time to hop of and take his cock in my hand or my mouth and take his load on my tits or in my face or down my throat.

Instead, I felt an overwhelming need to take it inside me. I slammed back down onto him before the second pulse and locked down onto him with all my strength, and I ground my desperate clit hard onto his pubic bone. I felt him exploding deep up inside me, pulse after pulse of warm, thick batter spraying the inner reaches of my womb. The pressured load tickled me and stimulated me and out of nowhere I was overwhelmed by the most powerful orgasm of my young life. Every muscle in my body tensed and flexed and spasmed. I was blinded by a flash of white. My skin went hot-cold-hot and I felt like I was being grabbed from the inside and turned inside out. I couldn't breathe for a second, but when I could, I screamed my passion into the night.

"OH MY GOD I'M CUMMING OH MY FUCKING GOD!"

My scream was loud enough that I heard it echo off the walls and the buildings surrounding the courtyard outside my open balcony. Only the heaviest sleepers in this wing of the hotel could have missed the news.

Marcus had been firing off round after round during all of this, and I felt him pulse once, twice more and then cease fire. I lifted up off him and slammed down again, giving me a nice, shuddering aftershock, and he pulsed twice more. I did it again, felt a much weaker throb from him, and I knew we were both spent for the moment.

I lay still against him for a few minutes. Still, that is, except for the shivering and the tiny aftershocks that continued to roll through me. He was still full and thick and hard inside me, and every part of my body felt warm and creamy, as if his thick spray had coated not only the inside of my womb but the inside of my soul. The warmth made me sleepy, and my eyes closed, and I drifted away...

*****

"Kiki," he whispered, and my eyes snapped open. I knew exactly where I was and who I was with and what we'd done, so I couldn't have been asleep long, but I could feel his cock was much smaller and softer. I moved my hips and he dropped out of me.

"I have to tell her," he said, and I looked up into his eyes and saw fear and confusion and doubt.

"No," I said. "You don't. Nobody knows about this except you and me. As far as anyone else knows, it never happened."

"But..."

"You need to clear a space in your own head where it never happened," I told him, "and that's where you need to be tomorrow, and the next few days and maybe the next few months."

"I can't just..."

"You can and you will. You need to lock this memory away, and there's gonna be no room for guilt or doubt. You're getting married tomorrow, and this is not part of that reality."

He gazed at me for a moment, internalizing what I was telling him. Finally, he sighed and nodded.

"I'm sorry," he said. "You're amazing and wonderful, and..."

"...and I'm a bridesmaid at your wedding tomorrow. That's the reality we're working with from here on."

"I wish we could talk about this," he said. "This isn't just some hookup to me. I wish we had more time to think about this."

"Maybe someday we will. But we've got a big day tomorrow, and we both better get some sleep."

And so we got him dressed, and I walked him to the door, and I leaned my naked body into his clothed one for a long, emotional goodnight kiss. And then he was out the door, disappearing into the night.

Then, and only then, did I let the tears start to fall.

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