tagInterracial LoveBlack Wedding

Black Wedding


She looked amazing. I know a groom isn't supposed to see his bride on their wedding day, before she walks down the aisle, but Melissa was such a gorgeous woman that I couldn't resist sneaking a peak. She was way out of my league, and I still don't know how I managed to snag a woman like her. My more cynical friends said it was just a matter of economics. I had money and she didn't, so it was a natural match.

Melissa was only 22 when we got married. A soccer player at our college, her body was long and lean, but voluptuous enough to let you know that she was a woman. Shiny blonde hair fell onto her alabaster white shoulders, narrow but strong. Her lean arms, bristling with the tiniest of blonde hairlets, were toned but not muscular. And her abs were to die for. She must have done at least 300 sit-ups a day to keep her tummy flat, bless her, and probably another 300 deep knee bends to keep her long legs tight and fit as well. She was a standard issue California beach babe, and somehow I had managed to get her into my bed, then get a diamond onto her finger. And today was our wedding day.

We were getting married in the big cathedral downtown, and had rented several rooms in the large hotel across the street. This would make things easier for everyone, as the wedding party could get dressed right across the road from the church, and with the reception being held in the hotel ballroom, there wasn't any need for a big convoy of drunk drivers trying to get back to the hotel. One of the rooms was a day room for the bride and brides maids to get dressed in, have their hair retouched and all that crap that was supposed to make them look like Barbie dolls on the big day. Since I had paid for all the rooms, I had keys to all of them, including the day room.

Wanting to see my beautiful bride before the wedding itself, I had snuck into her hotel room, hoping to catch her by surprise. But alas, the room was empty when I showed up, she must have been out having coffee with her bridesmaids. But her clothes were already there, laid out in the room, ready for the girls to pull them on just before the ceremony.

The dress was beautiful, I suppose, as far as wedding dresses go, long flowing white thing with about a 10 foot train. It was probably the dress that she'd been dreaming about since she was five years old or so. I couldn't have cared less, myself, but I did like the way it made her look like a virgin, untried and unridden. Of course, not much could have been further from the truth, since my Melissa had paid her way through school by working as a stripper at the various clubs around town, and in the neighbouring towns as well. She was no slut, but she certainly wasn't daddy's little girl either.

Her accoutrements were laid out on the bed as well, the garter that would get to wrap itself around her tight, creamy white thigh, soaking up her sweat and her scent before she seductively bent over and slid it down the length of her long sexy leg, tossing it over her shoulder to some lucky single guy who would have a piece of my wife's lingerie as a souvenir. The exotic white panties which would hug her moist crevices during the ceremony, riding up into the crease of her tight blonde-trimmed pussy and into the dark folds of skin where the cheeks of her taut ass came together. Now those would make a great souvenir!

There was her chantilly bra, delicate but strong, which would push her fleshy breasts up and together, creating that compelling bosom between her pasty white tits. I got hard just thinking about how these snow white pieces of cloth and lace would turn my sexy, athletic blonde ex-stripper fiancée into a lily white, innocent, unspoiled bride.

I heard the door handle click, and turned to see it being jiggled as someone put the key into the lock and tried to open it. The girls were back. I didn't want to get caught breaking the no see superstition, so I dodged into the small closet, sliding the door shut behind me. Through the slats in the door of the closet I could see my bride to be, her 19 year old sister Tanya, and the maid of honour, come into the room.

Melissa looked great already, wearing skin tight cream pants that showed off the long lines of her willowy legs and made her small ass look full and round. The tiny white tank top she wore clearly showed off the lines of her hard abs and pushed her small A cup tits upwards, giving them a healthy bounce as she walked in. Her shoulders and arms glistened in the late morning sunlight, as white as white can be.

"I can't believe you're tying the knot, Mel" said the maid of honour, an amazing tight bodied brunette girl named Sabrina who used to work at the same strip club where Melissa paid her way through college.

Unlike Melissa, though, Sabrina turned tricks to bring in extra cash, fucking the customers in the champagne room, and going home with the bikers who ran the club. Thank god Melissa had stuck to dancing only, choosing to stay faithful to me rather than making a few extra dollars by spreading those long white legs of hers wide apart for any guy with a couple hundred bucks and a hard on. Even when she worked the late night shift, and didn't get home until four or five in the morning, I was always confident that my cock was the only one sliding down her throat or penetrating her pussy. Or so I thought, anyways. As well, she had quit stripping a few months before graduating college, and had since started going to church regularly, I figure to try to atone for her sinful job.

"Ya, sis, I don't know how you're going to manage on only one cock for the rest of your life," said Tanya, just a year out of high school but already having a good six or seven years of sexual experience under her belt. She was definitely the slut of the family, bless her!

"Don't worry" said Melissa, a wry smile spreading across her pretty face, "I'll be well fucked, you know me!"

I was a little taken aback by her remark, but she must have been talking about the hard poundings that I regularly gave her greasy snatch.

Anyhow, Mel stripped out of her outfit, giving me a great view of my bride's amazing rock hard stripper/athlete frame, and started getting dressed, the girls commenting on how pretty and delicate all the white garments looked. They continued chirping away like, well, like girls at a wedding, as they helped Melissa get into her bridal costume.

She looked so amazing in the delicate, snow white negligee. Her skin was so pale and pure right now, like a newborn baby's, and the skimpy bridal undergarments, trimmed with lace, made her look so virginal and appealing. She had dressed like that on stage a couple of times, making the most of her hour glass figure to turn on her customers and con them into lap dances, but here in the hotel room, just before walking down the aisle, she just looked so innocent and vulnerable.

There was a knock on the door, I figure it's her mother coming to help out with the preparations. Sabrina went to open the it.

"Melissa, you have a visitor," she said, through pursed lips.

I watched as a tall black guy walked into the room, feasting his dark eyes on my bride to be's vulnerable, panty clad body. I recognized him from the strip club where Mel used to work, I think his name is Jackson. He was a bouncer at the club, and one of the guys that the dancers would party with after hours. Stupidly, I guessed that he was there to see Tanya, as I knew that my faithful fiancée didn't have much interaction with the strip club staff, and certainly not with black guys.

The three girls exchanged glances, and I was surprised to hear Sabrina say that her and Tanya had to go look into the flower arrangements, and left the room, leaving Melissa and Jackson alone together, with me still hiding in the closet, wondering what the fuck was going on.

"So you're really going through with it," said Jackson, his eyes still roaming freely over my Melissa's exposed skin. She wasn't trying to cover herself up though. "I can't believe I'm not going to get to fuck you ever again, little girl."

What the hell did he mean by that? He'd never fucked my bride. There's no way, they never had an opportunity, since Melissa didn't start stripping until after her and I had met, and she had never cheated on me since. Or so she said, anyways. What was he talking about. My stomach was in knots wondering what this was all about. Had my innocent, faithful girlfriend maybe not been so innocent after all? No way, I couldn't see Melissa, my pretty, slender, blonde fiancée, ever spreading her soft inviting legs wide apart for some huge black man. But maybe she had done that, maybe she had been lying to me the whole time, and wasn't just a stripper, but was a slut, a whore, as well. Maybe Melissa had been there with Sabrina the whole time, a sex toy for the bikers and club owners, fucking all kinds of sleazy lowlifes, drug dealers, mobsters, and pimps. My doubts were even stronger when Mel replied to him:

"Who says you're never going to fuck me again? Hmmm? You should never say never, big boy" she said, a huge smile spreading across her face as her eyes so obviously dropped to look at Jackson's bulging crotch. The guy had a hard on from looking at my bride's sultry body, and she was apparently happy about that fact.

Then my world fell apart, and jets of anxiety-induced acid shot into my stomach, because the tall black man stepped forward and took my half naked bride to be into his arms. They kissed, hard and long, their arms fiercely groping each others' backs and shoulders as their faces meshed together.

I was amazed at the contrast between the two people making out in front of me. Jackson, tall, muscular, dark as night, overwhelmed my tiny Melissa, dainty and white, blonde hair falling back across her narrow shoulders, her pasty flesh casting a faint glow against the dark skin of the man who held her in his arms. I was in shock.

Jackson reached down and put his large hands on my bride's lacy panties, grasping a big handful of her firm ass, and lifting her against his bulging groin. Melissa wrapped her long, slender white legs around his large waist, squeezing his torso tightly and desperately dry humping her sweet, fragrant snatch against his pelvis. My cock was raging hard as I witnessed this betrayal of our love.

Jackson wasted no time, and turned towards the bed, laying my innocent, white bride down beneath him on the mattress, crushing her small frame beneath his large, muscular body. Their mouths stayed glued together as he reached down and violently pulled her white panties down the length of her legs, Melissa raising her ass off the bed to help him slide them off. She reached around with one arm to unsnap her bra, and tossed it towards the closet where I hid. The bra slapped against the door to the closet, right in front of my face, and dropped to the floor at my feet. My bride was now completely naked underneath this tall black stranger, except for the lacy white garter that stayed wrapped around her creamy thigh.

Jackson raised himself up, still straddling Melissa, stripped off his jacket and tie, and took off his shirt, revealing a ripped, hard, bodybuilder's body, black as night. He undid his pants and slid down his boxer shorts, lowering them just enough to free his massive cock, long, thick, black, and fully engorged at the thought of burying itself between my bride's white, wielding thighs.

What an image it was that confronted me, my fiancée naked on her back, her wedding dress hanging on a rack beside the bed, her lingerie flung on the floor as this large black man towered above her, about to plunder my bride before my very eyes, stealing her sex from me, violating the sanctity of our wedding night before I had the chance to claim her as my own.

Her pussy must have been wet and ready, because Jackson had no problem stuffing it with his meat. His thick, cuckolding shaft slid effortlessly into my bride's sweet, moist pussy, and soon their pubic hairs meshed together as the base of his cock was engulfed by her warm slot. It was as though her pretty cunt was used to his cock, as though cocks that big had been inside her so many times before that she had no trouble accommodating them in her depths.

Jackson lowered his mouth to Melissa's as he slowly started to fuck my woman. Hesitant moans escaped her lips as her hard thighs squeezed against his rib cage. She worked it hard, spreading her legs as wide as she could to accommodate his wide frame. Her tiny hands clawed into his large black ass, pulling it deeper into her. The bed springs started to creak and moan as well, as they found the rhythm that brought maximum pleasure to the both of them, my supposedly innocent woman frantically pumping her hips in time with his animal thrusts. When she could catch her breath, she begged him to fuck her harder, to take her, to own her, to fill her with his juices, to claim her as his own.

"My pussy is yours baby, my body is yours. You fill me. You drive me over the edge. Oh god. Pound me baby. Pound my slutty cunt like you always have, make me a woman. Oh god Jackson, I need your cum inside me, I need your baby inside me, please put it in me. Fill me with your strong black seed and make my slutty white belly stretch as your huge black baby grows inside me. Oh fuck I want you. I want you to fuck me forever and I want to have your black baby."

Their hard stomachs, slick with the sweat of their exertions, made slippery sucking noises as the slid across each other. Her thighs flattened against his hard torso, her small tits were crushed and mashed beneath his weight. Melissa threw back her head and wailed in ecstasy, her body trembling then going limp as it was rocked by an overwhelming orgasm. The room was filled with the sounds of her moaning and crying as he pleasured himself with my wife, the bed was shaking and almost bouncing off the floor, and her head was slammed against the headboard with frightful thuds as he viciously reamed her small body.

Before long, Jackson's back arched deeply and he pressed his pelvis hard against Melissa's, holding her in place beneath him. My eyes were riveted on the spot where the base of his jet black stomach merged with my bride's pasty white tummy, his long shaft buried in the skin beneath it, penetrating halfway to her throat. I knew that Jackson was filling my bride to be with his potent semen, just before she was about to walk down the aisle and pledge her everlasting love for me. Melissa's pussy squeezed his spurting cock for all it was worth, milking every last drop of sperm from his shaft, still spitting the seeds of betrayal into her steaming hot, churning depths. He held her in place beneath him, enjoying his orgasm for as long as he could. The two of them were drenched with sweat, Melissa's hair was a mess, the bed was a mess, and they were panting for breath.

"Thank you Jackson. Thank you for making me your white whore one more time. Thank you for fucking me," said my bride.

"You are so fucked up, baby. But thank fuck you love the dark meat, cause the dark meat sure looks good on you. And feels even better inside you, you know." He reached down and kissed her again, her hands grasping the back of his head and pulling his face harder into hers. Soon, Jackson stood up, and stared down at my just fucked fiancée, lying splayed on the bed, her lingerie crushed, his come dribbling out from between her thighs, staining the bedspread.

"Married or not, you can have me any time you want me, lover. My pussy is yours, same as it's always been yours. You paid for me, you still own me," my Melissa pledged to him.

Jackson replied to her "I own you all right, surfer chick. I own your pussy just like I own your sister's pussy. You gonna be my white ho, little girl, my tight snatched, blonde haired beach bunny ho."

She smiled an evil smile, sat up and took his massive cock in her hand as he pressed his crotch into her pretty face, wrapping her pretty lips around his still engorged dark rod, her tiny white hand squeezing its base as her face slid up and down along its black length. He grabbed her head and forced her off the bed, on to her knees, allowing him to slide its full length down her tiny throat.

Melissa gagged as he deep throated her, slapping his balls harder and harder against her chin, choking her, smothering her. Soon, tears welled up in her eyes as he brutally fucked her face, a sinister smirk appearing on his mouth as he used this stupid white woman squatting on the floor in front of him. He tensed up again and I cringed as he filled her belly with his come, dumping another massive load of sperm into her tiny body, depositing it directly into her esophagus, her face scrunched up in pain as she swallowed his warm seed.

Jackson pulled out of her, his glistening cock bobbing in front of her face as she fell to the floor, gasping for breath.

As he zipped up his pants and put his shirt back on, Jackson said to her "Ya, you mine, white bitch. Your pussy, your tits, your ass, your mouth. Don't ever forget, I'll come for your sex anytime I get the urge to slip my beast into some skinny pasty white cunt, you got that?"

Not giving her a chance to respond, he walked out the door.

Melissa sat there on the floor, used and bruised, catching her breath. She started to clean herself up, still crying from the brutal fucking and face rape she had just endured. After a few minutes, Tanya and Sabrina returned, a little bit taken aback by the rough shape my Melissa was in.

"Don't worry" said Sabrina, hugging Melissa tenderly, "we'll cover everything up with makeup, no one will see the bruises or anything. It's just the price of business, honey."

"He fucks hard, doesn't he?" said little Tanya. "When he's through with me, I'm in pain for hours afterwards. But it's worth it for the privilege of being his bitch." What a fucked up group of women I was involved with.

The three women then went into the bathroom together, to start cleaning up my bride, for the ceremony. I took the opportunity to sneak out the room, my hard cock chafing against my pants as I quietly crept into the hallway.

An hour later, I'm standing in front of the altar, watching my beautiful Melissa walk down the aisle towards me, radiant in her long white bridal gown, her long silky blonde hair flowing majestically over her shoulders. She seemed to be walking a little funny though, kind of hesitatingly and crooked. My best man whispered that her shoes must be too tight for her, but I knew better.

My eyes fell on Jackson, sitting in the middle of the church on the bride's side, an evil smile on his face. It tore me apart inside, knowing that his sperm was swimming in my bride's womb as she walked towards me, and was probably dripping out the edges of her pussy, drying into a crust on her creamy white thighs. She was to be my wife, but she was somebody else's sex bitch.

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