Before Sue's Wedding Pt. 01

It was the bang of the front door closing that woke Sue up, followed a few seconds later by the buzzing of her phone as it vibrated on the bedside table. She reached out lazily and concentrated to focus her blurry eyes so she could read the text, from her mum, which explained she was planning to be out for the day with Jim, Sue's dad, and that they would be back after seven that evening.

Sue was glad she would have a little time to herself. It was rather disconcerting being back in her parent's house after all these years; back in her old bedroom, which had been left largely as it was when she moved out. It was two days before her wedding and tradition dictated she shouldn't see Dave again until the church.

It was uncomfortably hot; it was always hot in her parent's house. The heating seemed to be on constantly, even though her dad was notoriously careful with money. She had discarded the bed-sheets during the night and slept naked, but the room felt like a sauna nonetheless. She narrowly persuaded herself it was worth the brief effort of standing up and opening the bedroom door to let some air in. She propped it wide open with a shoe and then fell back into bed. Lying on her front, propped up on her elbows and forearms she looked at her phone again, checking the messages from last night. She half expected, or more accurately half-hoped, that the text conversation she remembered was just a dream. It was not. She checked her call log and the ten minutes she had spent FaceTiming the same number confirmed that memory was also real. She swiped back to the texts again, this time paying attention to the photos she had apparently sent.

She winced at the thumbnail of a video. Her thumb hovered over the play button for a second as she concluded that not knowing was worse. Having pressed play, she watched herself kneeling on the bed leaning towards her phone's camera, her long, freshly straightened brown hair partly obscuring her face and falling down over her perfectly proportioned breasts, stopping just short of her nipples. The stingy light from the bedside lamp kept the room behind her dark, but she was in perfect focus. She had taken the time to lean the phone against her pillows so she had both hands free. For the twelve seconds of the video she was gently caressing her breasts with one hand, the other firmly between her legs, holding steady the violently pink vibrator that she was riding. Sue shook her head and sighed. She watched the video again with the volume turned up and heard clearly the humming of the vibrator and her own voice moaning his name.

She dropped the phone on the bed next to her and screwed her eyes closed, reassuring herself that her parents almost certainly wouldn't have heard anything. It was kind of hilarious that she was about to get married but was back home worrying about whether they were going to hear her in bed.

John was the only "real" boyfriend she had before Dave. He was the first guy she had sex with. In fact, she had only ever slept with two other guys, both in the short time between breaking up with John and starting to date Dave. In fact, she had met both of them on the same "girl's holiday" to Ibiza. In fact, she had slept with both of them on the same night; at the same time; several times. It had been quite a way to get over John and it had been a little bit of revenge because she had never agreed to his suggestions of a threesome. She had felt a little bit guilty though and told

Dave about it when she came home. He had rather liked the story; so much in fact that he had often asked her to tell him again. What she had never told him, for some reason, was that one of the guys had videoed the whole encounter. He had emailed her a few days after she was home to ask, very appropriately, whether she minded if he posted the video online with her face blurred out. Something about the idea of it had turned her on so much that she said yes. Her one condition was that the guy also anonymously sent it to John, which he duly did. A few days after that John sent her a message with no text, just a photo of a big wall-mounted TV and all the guys from his football team posing around it pointing to the screen. The image on the TV was a freeze-frame of her getting spit-roasted. Predictable really. As were the texts she got from most of his football team in the following days.

The guy did post the video, but didn't keep his promise to blur her face. It had been live for a couple of weeks before he sent her a link and had been seen by almost fifty thousand people. She watched it from between her fingers, accepting that anyone who knew her and watched it would easily recognise her. The more interesting admission she made in her own head, was that she was very turned on at the idea that she might be recognised. For some reason she particularly liked the idea of her work colleagues and her friend's husbands stumbling across the video and saving it in their "favourites" list so they could watch it over and over again. The video had vanished a few years ago, taken down when Pornhub purged amateur footage that they couldn't prove had been posted with consent. The last time she had looked, it was at more than three-hundred thousand views. She was sure that Dave would have been turned on knowing there had been a video of her online, but it also excited her that he didn't know. Rea, her best friend knew, and had actually been on that holiday. One night Rea had logged into Pornhub and showed their mutual friend, Paulette, who then apparently promptly showed it to Paul, her husband. Some time later, in a very drunk text, Paul told her that Paulette had caught him watching the video and stroking himself.

She dropped her face into the pillow for a few moments, reflecting on the fact that John had probably already sent the video from last night, and all the accompanying photos, to every guy in his contact list. She tried to process the cognitive dissonance that came with both dreading the idea, and simultaneously loving the thought.

It was slightly cooler in her bedroom now thanks to the draft from the open door. With the index finger of her right hand Sue traced an imaginary line down from her throat, between her breasts, across her stomach and almost, so very, very close, to her freshly shaven, perfectly smooth pussy. She had never been completely shaven until two years ago. The night that Rea had suddenly kissed her and they had found themselves in bed with Rea complaining about getting stubble-burn and insisting on taking Sue to the shower and shaving her right there and then.

She had realised after a year of dating John that there was no real future with him. He wasn't destined for anything. He had no plan, no career, no aspirations. No real concept of responsibility. He had once tried to argue with her dad, quite seriously, that he could probably make a living through sports betting. During a weekend trip to Amsterdam he had asked a pimp how much money he could make if Sue worked in the red light district there. John's friends hadn't taken their girlfriends on that trip, so they had free reign to what they liked, but John didn't ask permission to have his fun anyway. One night in their hotel, many, many beers into the evening, the guys had sat around and ranked their girlfriends, based on videos and photos that they passed around and sent to each other. Sue had just sat there picking the label on her bottle of beer, fiddling with her phone, listening as they eventually agreed that Simon's new blonde, barely 18 year-old girlfriend was the best looking, but that Sue was "best fuck". Only John had any relevant experience, but that night he had invited his friends to watch him fuck her from behind so they could draw their own conclusions in person.

Even for all that she might have stayed with him if he hadn't been a serial cheater. She confronted him on multiple occasions but he never apologised or even promised not to do it again. He had that bad boy swagger that all the good girls liked; and all the bad girls for that matter. He always seemed to get the girl he wanted and he placed no great value in keeping them. He was good looking in a rough kind of a way, not especially well built but with muscles you could feel through a shirt and a confidence that just couldn't be shaken. In bed he was rough and demanding but she had encouraged that: maybe to please him at first, but later on because she enjoyed it. He knew he was good in bed, or at least he knew that he was big and to him that was the same thing. Before they ever slept together Sue had heard the legend about him being too big for any girl to take completely; a legend he had obviously started himself. It wasn't quite true. She had measured him one night at very nearly 9 inches, which wasn't unmanageable. The other reason it wasn't exactly true to say no one could take him completely, was because he didn't really provide any choice in the matter.

She slid her index finger into her pussy, just enough to make sure the tip of her finger was wet when she started to moved it against her clit, very slowly.

With her left hand she lifted her phone again, She had messaged him first and she had led the agenda, telling him that she still thought about the first time they had sex, and the last time. More problematically she told him she often thought about the next time. It hadn't been very subtle.

She pushed two fingers inside herself, this time much deeper, and as she fucked herself she curled her fingers so they ran over her g-spot. Her knees were far apart now, heels drawn up towards her ass.

At this point in the conversation she had sent him a picture of her naked body, from her naval up, taken with her hands stretched out in front of her. From then on there was no turning back. She read their texts as she fingered herself:

Sue: "Remember this view?"

John: "You look good. I remember cumming on those tits. And that face."

Sue: "And in my hair. On purpose."

John: "You were the blowjob queen."

Sue: "Still am! Remember when I lost my voice because you bruised my throat?"

John: "Deep throat like a porn-star"

Sue: "You didn't give me a choice!

John: "You loved it. I bet you make yourself cum thinking about me."

Sue: "Yeah."

John: "When was the last time?"

Sue: "About half an hour ago!!"

John: "Haha, is right. I bet you think about me when he fucks you."

Sue: "Maybe...sometimes...a lot..."

John: "Does he make you cum as hard as me?"

Sue: "No. I've told him."

John: "Told him what?"

Sue: "That I came harder with you. How big you are. How goof you felt."

Sue: "*good not goof!"

John: "Tell him you want to fuck me again."

Sue: "I have. Lots of times."

John: "Tell me."

Sue: "I want you to fuck me. I'm almost married so..."

John: "Can I fuck you on your wedding night."

Sue: "Or come and do it right now."

John "Can't. Going to have company in a minute. Tomorrow night?"

Sue: "Tomorrow day?"

John: "Sure."

Sue: "I'll text you."

John: "FaceTime me now. Keep me company until Lisa gets here."

Sue: "I could do that."

John: "Do it then"

Sue: "Give me a few minutes?"

John: "Two minutes."

She remembered pulling her "secrets" box out of the cupboard (the door was still open now) and quickly slipping into the red lace lingerie, including red stockings, that John had bought her as a first anniversary present. Not their first anniversary together, the first anniversary of them breaking up! The set had only been from Ann Summers, low on price, high on slut-factor. The thong was crotchless, which she didn't like but was convenient because John liked to fuck her with her stockings on and it was always a pain to unclip the suspender belt to take a thong off and then reclip everything afterwards.The floaty babydoll was so transparent it was effectively redundant, with the lace apparently patterned specifically to make sure her nipples were visible. This morning it was lying discarded on the bedroom floor. Just as it had been discarded on the floor of John's bedroom the night of their "anniversary". Dave had never even seen it, although he had bought he plenty of lingerie himself.

Last night she had stripped for John on FaceTime, posed for him every way he asked, and had suggestively wrapped her lips around her vibrator just as he had to shut-off the call with his girlfriend pulling up in the car outside. Hence the reason she had felt the need to send him the video message afterwards.

Two fingers weren't enough now., Sue put her phone down, searched under the bed-sheets and found her vibrator. Lying back, legs drawn up, she pushed it inside her, as far as it would go until the "ears" were pressed hard against her clit. She clicked through the settings until they were all maximised. She threw her head back into the pillow, bucking her hips, alternating between fucking herself and just leaving the "ears" buzzing hard against her clit with the shaft deep inside. Her eyes were closed, head tilted with her left cheek on the pillow and she imagined John fucking her. She used the vibrator roughly, her other hand squeezing her breasts, pinching her nipples, then sliding up until her fingers slowly closed around her own throat. Her hips were pushed far off the bed and she moaned his name audibly, as if he was there, because it felt to her almost as if he was.

"Fuck me John. Please fuck me. Hard. Harder. I need you to John. Please John."

Unrestrained, safe in the knowledge she was alone, Sue collapsed completely into the fantasy, accepting just how much she needed to let him take her again. To let him use her like he did, never really caring how it felt for her which somehow made it feel so much better. She forced the vibrator deep, pushing back against it, rolling her hips and imagined John making her take every inch of him. She remembered the night in Amsterdam, on her hands and knees, both of John's hands tangled in her hair, pulling her head back, making sure she was looking at Simon and Ben and Jay while he fucked her. He asked if she liked them watching and she had said she did. The truth be told, she would have said "yes" no matter what, because she had known it was the answer he wanted to hear. She had liked it though, she had liked it a lot and she had performed for them; moaning a little louder, slamming her hips back a little harder, arching backwards so they could see her body in the half-light of the bedroom.

He was going to fuck her today. When she had suggested it last night she wasn't totally convinced she would go through with it, but right now she knew she would. She felt her body tensing, muscles contracting, her head pushed back, one hand still around her throat and now squeezing harder."

"Fuck me. Fuck me John. Cum in me. Please."

A few second later Sue came hard, screaming John's name on repeat, pounding herself with the vibrator until the crescendo of the best orgasm she had felt for an age finally subsided. She turned off the vibe, let her arms fall to her sides, and lay there; her chest rising and falling rapidly, skin glistening with sweat.

Sue's eldest sister, Christine, had gotten pregnant to her high school boyfriend when she was 17. They were married by the time Hannah was born - when Sue was 10 years old herself - and were still married now, With that relatively small age difference, she had always been close to Hannah and more so over the last few years. Neither Sue, Christine or her husband Nick, had taken to Jamie, the 20 year old guy Hannah had been hanging around with for the last few months. Dave, who was also protective of Hannah, thought that Jamie was trouble; nothing but bad news. They had all agreed not to do anything which could cause a rift with Hannah in the hope that the relationship, or whatever it was, would run its course quickly.

When Sue then opened her eyes to see Jamie standing in the hall just outside her open bedroom door, looking in at her, it seemed so bizarre she couldn't quite register it as reality. She heard Hannah shouting from downstairs but couldn't process the words.

"I wish I was John," Jamie quipped to her as he stepped away, calling down to Hannah that he couldn't find something or other. Hannah shouted back that she was going to run over the road to her mum's house and would be back in a minute.

Sue was aghast. She took the opportunity, swung herself out of bed, jumped to the open door and was about to slam it closed only to find that Jamie had stepped back, not only into view, but now only an arm's length away. He made no attempt to disguise his gaze as it travelled down her body.

"Hey, isn't it Dave you're marrying, cos I'm sure I met him the other week?"

She made no attempt to answer and pushed the door but Jamie quickly stepped around it, into her bedroom and let it close behind him.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out. Now." Sue emphasised each word, but her voice trembled. Without appreciating she was doing it, she had been taking half steps backwards and she could feel the edged of her bed against the back of her legs.

"I could be John." Jamie had followed her and now, close enough to almost be standing on her toes, he reached behind her, placed his hands on the small of her back, slid them to her ass, squeezed, and pulled her towards him.

Sue punched him hard on the temple; a decent left-cross with a closed fist which took him completely by surprise. Instinctively he pushed her hard with both hands and she fell back across the bed, the back of her head bouncing off the wall. Jamie touched his temple gingerly, then nodded approvingly.

"Nice shot! I deserved that." Despite that apparent insight he climbed onto the bed and straddled her, sitting across her pelvis with his arms either side of her shoulders, knuckles denting the mattress. Sue told herself this was all total madness, speechless even as she watched him sit up and pull his t-shirt over his head. He leaned back over, his face very close to hers.

"Does Dave know about John? She could feel his breath on her lips, and his hands as he reached for her breasts.

"Hannah will be back any second. You need to get out. Right now."

She put her hands on his chest to push him away at the same moment he tried to kiss her. She kept her lips pursed but he didn't seem to be dissuaded. His mouth moved to her throat, just below her right ear and he dragged her skin through his teeth.

"You're gorgeous," he told her.

There was something about him that reminded her a little of John, the arrogance, the belief that he was almost doing her a favour by taking her to bed, the complete disregard for being caught. Sue's hands were still on his chest but she hadn't pushed him away just yet. He made another attempt at kissing her, again without any encouragement. He drew his face back just a little, his nose still almost touching hers.

"If you say no, it's a no." He restrained himself for a moment, apparently sincere.

It was hardly an invitation to provide consent. Would he stop if she said 'no'? Maybe, but she didn't say anything at all, not precisely because she was paralysed by fear or shock, but because her mind was cycling through one hundred different scenarios, not the least of which was Hannah opening the bedroom door any second. In those few heartbeats she even had time to imagine seeing Jamie at the wedding reception in a couple of days, knowing she had let him fuck her. In the meantime he started to move again, wriggling out of his jeans, pushing them down his legs using his feet to finish the job and kick them away. She felt his dick, hard against her thigh, then against her stomach.

"So, it isn't a no?"

It was a decision that she knew she would never be able to justify to herself and would never be able to explain to anyone else. It was a moment that any observer would consider a terrible violation, and something to which she could never have given true consent. Perhaps it was mostly acquiescence, but she also felt something approaching a shiver of anticipation. She had loved role-playing with John, with him pinning her down as she pretended to resist. It was a sensation she had tried to recapture with Dave and she would ask him to tie her up, sometimes telling him whilst they had sex that if he wanted to invite one of his friends to fuck her whilst she was unable to stop him, it wouldn't be the worst thing...