Erica's Big Day Ch. 02

Clementine's soft hands began to unhook the straps from her suspender-belt, the girl waxing poetic as she busied herself, sampling the smoothness of the bride's hips with her palms. Even this sent a frisson of excitement to the peaks of Erica's breasts. "That's it, babe, let me undo everything and take off these pretty silk panties. God, you've got them wet today, haven't you? Poor darling."

The sodden fabric was tugged free of Erica's ass and drawn smoothly down over her thighs, suspender-straps now dangling from the tops of her stockings. "Step out, darling," Clementine said sweetly as they reached her ankles. She slipped her pump-shod feet free of the garment, so that the little blonde could pass it to Gavin. He relinquished his hold on her and moved behind, letting Clementine take possession of the skirts and keep them hoisted free of her naked ass.

She could raise her head now and look into the great ornate mirror, and somehow she had to—at the beautiful forlorn bride with mascara running and tresses of hair pulled awry, prone on the marital mattress with a ruthless debaucher readying himself behind her. His shirt was ripped partway open and his trousers were around his thighs, that huge weapon barely disguised by her bunched dress. Elsewhere in that same building Erica's friends and family were drinking and dancing in here honour, her husband downing celebratory pints with his friends, while here on the bridal bed she was about to get fucked by another man.

And never in her life had she been so insanely aroused.

Gavin was gazing at her in the reflection, letting her see him press the silk knickers to his face and inhale her musk. "God you smell good," he said. Then as if they had served to whet his appetite he threw them onto the bed beside her, dropped to his knees and claimed her ass with both hands.

She cried aloud as he pulled her buttocks apart and buried his face between them, driving his tongue into her already wet slit. He kissed and lapped and made fierce oral love to her cunt, making her wetter still. She writhed and moaned like a heroine in direst peril as he devoured her, slathering his tongue from her pussy and diving into her tight, shocked anus, the first man ever to do so. He wriggled and probed his tongue inside her puckered hole, chiefly to draw out and enjoy her shocked response—she was sure of it. Then he returned with relish to her pussy and feasted there some more, tongue lashing back and forth furiously, hands massaging deep into the muscles of her ass. God, the bastard knew from her every moan that she could not help loving it.

Gavin emerged from the depths, his face wet with her juices. He leaned over and kissed Clementine, allowing the elfin girl to sample Erica briefly on his tongue. The bride was too suffused with panic and desire even to care. There was a brief flash of that great erect pole bobbing up from beneath Gavin's shirt-tails and she knew what was next; she watched him reach down so he could fit himself to her, then felt the dome of his cock search out the slick opening which his tongue had made ooze. He pushed and the massive head split her lips, causing her to gasp in erotic trepidation. The first of Gavin McClain had entered her, the rest of those inches cued up for the big push into her tiny-seeming hole. Escort Clementine might be used to such dimensions—Erica was not. Her fingers clawed into the bedspread and her whole body braced, fearful but wanting.

"Keep looking, Erica," Gavin said with grim exuberance, and one hand came to rest firmly in the small of her back. "It's only right I fuck the bride in her dress, right? At least to begin with."

Oh god, get on with it, you bastard, fucking do me!

He thrust, burying at least half of his cock-length inside her, letting her feel his substance as it opened her cunt wide. She yelled out in response to his massiveness inside her, yet was surprised—relieved? disappointed maybe?—that he had not plunged in further, not driven as far as he could go. Then he withdrew and began a slow piston in and out, probing deeper on each stroke, testing her wetness, her preparedness. She ached at having cock—his stiff, unlawful cock which had no business to be there—gliding easily against the tight-stretched walls of her cunt. Coupled with the enjoyment all over Gavin's handsome face it was unbearably, cruelly sexy.

She stared, breath bated, hands clenching fistfuls of linen, as Gavin sped up, fucking harder, deeper ... Then satisfied all was ready, he pulled out almost to the tip, pausing to let her know what was on the way.

He rammed hard, burying most of himself inside her. She could see the look on her own face as her cunt was crammed with more cock than it had ever taken before. Her eyes were staring wildly, her mouth a wide-stretched scarlet O, her whole face a testament to being penetrated so deep and stretched so wide. As for Gavin's face, that was a picture of the most profound pleasure. His delight in being thrust so far inside the bleating bride was etched all over his stony features. He retreated, gripped her sides with both hands and drove deep, sinking himself utterly inside her, so that his quadricep muscles impacted hard against her ass. She wailed in helpless ecstasy as her tight pussy took all of him, every other thought erased by the sheer sense of being expanded and filled by this ruthless bastard.

"Oh god, that's it," Gavin's voice grated, as he slammed hearty strokes into her, his groin whacking against her now on each deep-delving thrust. "That's it, Erica, take it. Take it all."

Amazingly she found that she could. Her body was opening up to the severest probing of his cock, accepting it fully, welcoming it, however wrong she knew this to be. Now that he had opened her up fully he abandoned all pretence of tenderness. His assault on her pussy was sustained and hearty; when she glanced up again she could see him staring downwards at the repeated collision-point of their sexes, gauging whether or not he was fully delivering on his promise of the morning.

"What do you think, Clem?" he asked his young associate through clenched teeth. "Is this a fuck worthy of the occasion?"

"Yes, baby, it's perfect ..." There was an ache in Clementine's voice. The girl was gazing in awe on Gavin's penetration of Erica, clutching the dress with one hand and stroking the bride's thigh with the other. Her face seemed to register what Erica was feeling—sheer astonishment that this pussy was swallowing up Gavin's cock so completely on every stroke of his protracted shafting. There was something bizarrely hot, Erica found, about the petite escort's enjoyment of the fuck. It was still nothing more than dressing, however, to her ravishment by this gorgeous despicable man. That and the scary truth that she did not want it to end.

Eventually Gavin pulled all the way out, leaving the bride squashed and empty on the bed as he ripped the shirt from his broad torso. "Right, strip her out of the dress," he ordered Clementine. "I want to get close up."

The words made Erica shudder with anticipation. Her already well-pounded cunt throbbed with expectation of more. Gavin's aide jumped to her task with glee, unhooking the bride at the nape of her neck and unlacing downwards. As she was undressed, Erica could see Gavin stripping off the last of his wedding gear, his lightly-haired athlete's chest, his superbly developed ass and legs all enhancement to the focal point of that mighty thrusting prick. So wrong, so screwed-up, for evil to be this gorgeous. Naked, the man was spectacular.

"There—up you get, let me help you out of this, make sure it doesn't get spoiled," Clementine was saying, her voice breathy with arousal. She drew the unsteady Erica to her feet and helped her climb free of the skirts, till the bride stood in her veil and the last of her scant lingerie. Gavin's eyes roamed all over Erica's trembling beauty.

"Clementine ..." he said, without diverting his gaze, "I hate to spoil your enjoyment, but would give us some time alone? I don't want any further distraction for our bride."

"Yes, I understand," she said, her chirpiness betraying a hint of disappointment. "I could go run the bath for after, if you like."

"Good idea." Erica was vaguely aware of the girl skipping off to the en suite.

"Come here," Gavin said once they were alone, and he gave her no choice had she wanted one. He pulled her roughly to him and spun her around, so the clasp at the back of her corseted brassiere could be wrenched open. Then he turned her back again like she was a mannequin and, seizing the garment from the front, ripped it off her tits so that they bounced freely before him.

She was already gasping in renewed excitement when he grasped both her full orbs and squeezed them, accentuating the swollen peaks. He sucked briefly and hard on each nipple in turn, forcing ecstatic whimpers from her throat. Then he grabbed her to himself and kissed her fiercely. It caught her off-guard and something instinctual within her responded; she kissed back and found her tongue inside Gavin's mouth before she knew what she was doing. He released her from the embrace and she stared into his amused face, guilt and confusion pricking her own visage.

"Erica," he said, mockery in his voice, "stop trying to deny you're enjoying this." She made to protest, but could find no words; she was too much aware of the trickle from her throbbing pussy. "On your knees," he ordered abruptly, and she found herself propelled to the carpet so that Gavin's marble-sculpted cock towered before her. "Now suck, like we both know you enjoy."

There was no point in being coy, or even in fighting her own desire, so she seized the huge man-length, levered it down and gobbled up the head. It filled her mouth—she had never had to stretch her lips so wide to accommodate a dick—but she devoted herself to the task, got around all that hard velvety man-meat and sucked. She was slurping up the flavour of her own cunt as it suffused her nostrils and her taste-buds, glutting herself on Gavin McClain's pulsing prick, working harder as he groaned his approval. She wrapped her fingers as far round the base as they would go and wanked him briskly while sucking—not because she was a slut or a cheating whore, not because she wanted this huge throbbing delicious cock in her mouth, but because it served her to. Yes, that was why. That was all. Give him what he wants and get this done. Get back to my new ...

That thought was far too troublesome, so she simply went on fellating. She sucked and licked till she had washed the great standing pillar completely and drawn grating moans from Gavin which belied all his suaveness. The blow-job of her life, delivered on the day she married. Just not to her husband.

"That's it, Erica," Gavin said, raising her easily up from the floor. His eyes were fierce with lust, but amusement still flickered on his lips. "You're getting the idea. Love, honour and obey my cock." She balked at the wedding-day profanity, but he shoved her in reverse before she could respond, so that she fell bouncing onto the bridal bed, veil laid out behind her like a shimmering fan. He was on top of her in an instant, wrenching apart her white-stockinged legs and pressing his rampant spear to her wide-spread entrance.

"Come on, Erica, tell me you don't want this. Tell me like you mean it." She knew now that it was not enough for this man to blackmail and fuck the girl who had given herself to another, not even enough to do it on her wedding night. He meant to draw out her wild, sweating enjoyment as he debauched her on the bridal bed. And as he held her stare and read her face, she knew with a failing heart that she could not even deny him that much. Words failed her.

He thrust, plunging himself inside her to the balls, making her scream as he filled her up completely with his hard manhood. "Fuck yes, get your legs around me, open up to it, that's my good girl," he said through tight-set lips, as he surged in and out, making her feel every stroke. She wrapped her legs around his buttocks and took his mighty fucking, moaning and squealing as he clutched her back and pressed his pectoral muscles tight to her cushioning breasts. His sweating, impassioned face almost brushed hers as his driving pelvis worked her cunt.

He slowed inside her, halted and then rolled over onto his back, taking her screaming with him so that she ended up astride his loins, still impaled. "Ride me, Erica. Go on, ride my cock. Show me you know how to fuck."

There was momentum now—the momentum of a lust so strong it blew all else to hell. She clutched his chest, pumping herself lustily up and down on him—flowers in her hair and bridal veil flowing all down her back, while her perfect naked tits oscillated before his gaze. She knew what a sinful delight she must appear to him and the thought made her crazily hot.

"That's it," Gavin snarled, arrogance fusing with passion on his grimly handsome face. "Go on, harder." He gripped her jaw with one hand and slapped her breast firmly with the other, making it smart. She fucked more vigorously, wondering how she could hate this man yet love his cock inside her on the day she married someone else. He slapped again on the same quivering globed surface and tugged hard on her nipple. That morning the pain would have stunned her; now it only served to fuel her desire, made her fuck harder, working up friction on Gavin's shaft. Her pussy clutched and massaged his dick and she realised that she had never fucked Stephen like this, had never felt such impetus. There was a swell of shame within her, but she ignored it and kept pumping.

"Keep at it," Gavin said fervently, "that's it, Mrs Laughton, show me what that cunt's for."

"Don't call me that!" she raged, and she slammed herself hard, frantically, onto his pole, manicured nails digging into his flesh. "Don't fucking call me that!" He responded by clapping both hands to her waist and driving his pelvis in a hard spearing barrage. "Oh my god ... Oh my god ..." she screamed out, her tits mashing against his chest and her clitoris against his pubic bone as he screwed her to the depths. She was suddenly scarily close to coming.

"Yes, Erica, this is what I want, this is what we both fucking want ..."

He relented suddenly and they stared into each other's charged face, united and panting in the thrill of sex. Erica was only just registering how much she had given away, only vaguely aware of her original orgasm-avoidance plan, when Gavin grabbed her ass and prised himself off the bed still supporting her. She wrapped her limbs around him in panic and found herself being carried across the room, still sunk down to the root of his cock. It seemed he was eager to have her all over the suite, for he deposited her bum on the edge of a dresser, brushed the veil away so it spilled prettily all about her and instantly recommenced the shafting.

Erica's thighs were splayed wide, her hands clutching her lover's muscular torso, as he gripped her ass and flung into her the fuck of her life. Her cunt took him all and craved it to continue. All pretence had been stripped away. If her family and groom had poured into the room at that moment, she could scarcely have reigned in her enjoyment. His meanness, his game-playing, all were incidental. None of it mattered now in the light of this outpouring, this dam-burst of primal lust from behind that calm, svelte exterior. She was glad to be the focal point of this man's desire, the object of this fabulous screwing. The cruel thing was that he had not done it a week before her wedding.

"Rub your clit," Gavin told her as he continued his rigorous pumping. "Rub you clit, Erica. I want to see you come."

Every instinct sent one hand searching for that hot protrusion of lust, but some final vestige of pride made her pause. "No ... No Gavin, please, I can't ..." She had sworn to herself as she went in that she would not show this type of weakness and now shame burned within her.

"Touch yourself," he said, slowing the pace of his strokes. "You want to. And I want to watch your face as you come all over my cock."

"No, no I can't ..."

"Why not?"

"It's ... It's ..."—her final breathy plea, wrung from whatever sense remained of right and wrong—"... my wedding day."

"Fuck all that." Gavin's response in her ear was quiet and hard. His lips found her neck's hot-spot again and his cock sped up inside her. "Fuck the church ... and the flowers ... and the speeches. Fuck all the promises before God." Blasphemous words, punctuated by kisses to her neck, her face, her mouth. "This is all you care about—my cock in your cunt. Right here, right now. Fucking you long and deep and hard like you need." One hand gripped her jaw, strong but restrained. His lips hovered against hers as he spoke. "Show me, Erica. Come for me. Come like you've never come before."

She abandoned all restraint, all shame and all hope. Her hand dropped to her wet pulsing button and rubbed it desperately, as Gavin surged in and out of her with renewed vigour. He grabbed her asscheeks hard again and plundered her with his cock—something Stephen had never really done, not like this. Not so hard and fevered and unrelenting ...

"That's it, Erica, that's it, let it all out. Let me hear you." Her fingers went frantic on her clitoris as he crushed her to him, his cock savaging her beautifully.

"Oh god... Oh god ..." It mounted up within her like the onset of a joy she wished would obliterate all else—the hotel, the guests, the groom ... With her flowers still in her hair and her lucky pearls still about her and the last of her silky lingerie clinging to her body. So wrong, so wicked, so wildly enthrallingly sexy. Here comes the bride ...

Erica's whole body exploded into rapturous orgasm. She could hear her own full-throated screams filling the bridal suite, as her cunt spasmed hard all around Gavin's deep-driving cock and every inch of her flesh shuddered with delight. He surged even more furiously inside her as she clung to him, his cock the bone-hard centre of her climactic fire.

"Ohhh yes, that's it," his voice grated. "That's it, my whore-bride, my beautiful fucking slut." He pulled out of her and wrenched her tight-gripped hands off him so that she fell backwards, flailing about for support. The excitement was still pumping through her thrashing body as he grabbed his pulsing cock and jacked it hard, shooting great pearly jets of cum high over her. She could hear his rage of pleasure, feel his essence splattering hot and thick on her tits and stomach as her ecstasy subsided and she drooped back limp on the dresser.

It was some panting moments before Erica had any clear awareness of her surroundings and situation. She found herself lying on the dark-polished dresser among her own crushed veil, crystal ornaments scattered around and semen running down her breasts to pool copiously on her sternum. Her first instincts on regaining her rational mind were of self-preservation. She was wriggling on the smooth surface to peel the suspender-belt away from her tummy before it got soiled any further with cum. Then she began sliding it along with her stocking from off her legs.

"I'd help out," Gavin explained, his semi-stiff cock still leaking spunk, "but my hands are a bit sticky. Clem, you there?"

The blonde minx had been listening proactively at the bathroom door—that much was obvious—for she walked out on cue, naked and flushed, her face mirroring at least some of Erica's delirium. "God yes, I'm here," she said, bringing her lithe young form over to the adulterous couple, flushed and excited to be nude with them. "I couldn't help myself, I had to get off to the sound of you two. I hope you don't mind. You were so amazingly hot together. Wait, Erica, let me help you with that."