Erica's Big Day Ch. 02

Erica was too hazy to do anything other than let Clementine tug her remaining garments away from her legs. The veil and floral band were then unclipped from her hair and the jewellery removed right down to her slim wristwatch, leaving her totally naked. She slid herself off the dresser and looked about, trying to be practical, to assess her current situation. "Is that ... Is that it, Gavin? You done with me now? I need to get back ..." Urgency was returning as her head cleared.

"That's all," he replied, his calm restored. "It's time to clean up now."

"I'll see to that," Clementine said. "Gavin first." She was already on her knees before him, sucking his wilting cock clean of its final spendings, lavishing her willing tongue all over him. Erica didn't wait to watch—she took her sperm-plastered self to the bathroom. She had no desire to see another mouth around the organ which had fucked her so sensationally.

Water was bubbling up from the bowels of the room's huge chromotherapy bath and a sequence of lighting effects—blue, green, amber and soft red—were radiating through the surge, bathing the whole place in an ever-changing ambient glow. "Think of how you'll be able to relax in this later," Clementine said, catching up with her. "I know we haven't got time now. Slip into it and let me wash you down." Erica might have protested, but saw that Gavin was already taking the shower, so she allowed herself to be led, dazed and panicking, into the spa bath by her similarly naked helper and guided down into its gently surging waters. After all else that had happened, their nude proximity did not seem a huge deal.

"I've got to get back, they might come looking," she fretted. Clementine was already reaching out and calmly sponging semen from her breasts.

"I checked my phone," Gavin called, above the rush of shower-water. "Everything's fine. I think your bridesmaid has everything under control."

Scott or the photographer or Eloise ... One of Gavin's accomplices was keeping him informed, Erica thought numbly as she was washed clean. Clementine led her dripping from the huge marble tub. It seemed the petite assistant had everything pre-planned and Erica felt it best to follow her lead. Clementine even had her own towels with which to dry them both. She had not seen the girl bring them in and wondered vaguely from where they had come. "There, babe," the dainty escort was saying, patting her way around Erica's curves. "I'll get you all sorted and then tidy up."

Gavin dried himself off next to them, silent and satisfied, and together they all returned to the bedroom. Erica had only got so far as sliding herself back into her lingerie by the time Gavin was dressed and re-knotting his bowtie.

"I'll see myself out," he told her, as Clementine set out her cosmetics and hair tongs, but before he left he revealed an enveloped DVD from his inside pocket and handed it to her. "You'll be wanting to take good care of this." He answered her question before it left her lips. "And no, you don't know that I haven't got another copy, but honestly, Erica, I have no great desire to see you publicly shamed. I simply wanted what you promised me. And to give you something to think about every time you fuck your husband." She bridled at the words, but he stifled any spoken response with a kiss to her lips. "Goodnight, Mrs Laughton. It's been a great pleasure. Clementine will help you with the rest. Oh, let me re-hang the mirror." He did it easily and then was gone, without another word or glance.

Clementine completed the salvage job efficiently, darting about in her skimpy underwear with her breasts bouncing as she cleansed Erica's messed-up visage and reapplied the wedding-face of that morning. She was swift with her curling tongs and hairspray, chatting amicably as she brought the bride's coiffure back up to spec. "You're lucky, really. I've fucked a lot of guys and Gavin is—well, you don't need me to tell you now. Nothing's quite the same after. It's not only how beautiful his cock is, it's—god—everything. The way he grips you, that look in his eyes, the way he ... possesses you. You know what I mean, right? You'll never forget how your pussy felt, how you felt. I'm glad you got to experience him once before you settle down with your husband. Stephen seems really nice ..."

Erica did her best to dismiss Clementine's stream-of-consciousness. She gave her beautician a few minutes' start before taking the elevator back to the lobby, transformed now from the just-fucked slut to her original bridal glory. The suite now looked like it had never been used, down to the last petal on the bed-cover. Gavin's escort-date had completed an impressive clean-up operation.

Helen had been on look-out and came rushing over as soon as Erica stepped into reception. "Everything's okay," she assured the bride. "I managed to keep your mum under control and Stephen has been charming all the guests. I kept popping back in, saying you were outside with me taking some air, introducing her to people I knew would keep her talking. How are you? Was it awful?" She looked deeply concerned.

"It was ... Look, I'm okay. It's over. We'll talk another time." Erica's furiously-fucked pussy was throbbing. She could still sense Gavin's hands all over her. "I need to go and make amends. Would you take these?" She had reached into her purse and handed over to Helen two items. "Can you return the key card when I'm with Stephen and my parents? It might look suspicious that I've got it. And get rid of the other thing. I think ... I hope it's the only copy. Destroy it, okay?"

Helen laid a consoling hand on the bride's wrist. "Poor darling. You've done really well. I'll take care of it, you can trust me. Try and put it all out of your mind now. Anything else that needs dealing with, we'll do it later."

Erica felt weepy once more. "You've been such a good friend, Helen, and such a good bridesmaid. I don't know how to thank you."

"Forget it." Helen smiled sympathetically. "What's a chief bridesmaid for? Look, go find your husband."

Erica had to field outbursts of concern from her mother, Camille and Kate, before she could make it to Stephen, but insisted that she was fine. "Please mum, don't fuss. It's been a long day, that's all."

"Oh ..." Jane Greendale seemed keen to pass something on. "I was speaking to the charming Gavin. He and his friend had to leave, but he asked me tell you what a wonderful day he had, and to wish you every happiness. Wasn't that nice?"

"Yes, mum, yes, that was very nice. I'd better find Stephen."

Of her other tormentors there was no sign and truth be told she scarcely cared anymore. Her groom wrapped his arms around her and professed that he wouldn't let her out of his sight so long again till the honeymoon was over. "I was about to come looking, but Helen insisted you needed a breather. You were gone over an hour, is everything okay?"

"Fine," she said wearily, head swimming with guilt as she hugged him back. "Everything's fine." She wondered miserably if it really was, on any level. In the Grand Ballroom several hundred people were still dancing enthusiastically in her honour. The giant video screen was happily blank. Stephen led her to the dance area once more and she let him, but as the adrenalin of her illicit encounter ebbed, she felt truly exhausted.

She hung limply against her husband as they slow-danced to the Righteous Brothers' Unchained Melody and wondered if the sweet, romantic man within her arms would ever fuck her half as hard, half as recklessly as Gavin had done. What a terrible thought, as bad a betrayal as the one in the honeymoon suite. But how could she not remember that great hard body against hers, those controlling hands and that skilful mouth, not to mention that selfish ravishing cock ...?

Stephen whispered in her ear, as they swayed together. "After this, what say we make our excuses and go to bed?"

Their bridal bed ... Seclusion from the massed dancers and drinkers would be wonderful, but she dreaded to be alone with her husband at the scene of her crime. She held Stephen closer and thought of the serviceable love he would make to her, imagining what noises she would make in response to pass herself. To love one man and dream of another's cock ... Had ever a bride been as wretched as the new Mrs Erica Laughton?

"I still feel really headachy, can't make it go away," she said, her voice full of apology.

The movement of his body slowed and she could sense his disappointment. Then he drew her closer and kissed her cheek softly. "It's okay sweetheart. Why don't we relax tonight? I'll give you a massage and we can laze in that huge bath for a while. We'll have all the time we need in Belize. Belize and beyond."

Erica held him, tearing up. "Thanks darling. Thank you so much." He couldn't know all the reasons for her gratitude. She clung mournfully to her cuckolded husband and danced away the last of her big day.

Epilogue: Fiends Reunited

They watched it all on her TV screen, seated together on the floor with a bottle of pinot noir.

"God, Gavin, you fucked the hell out of that girl," she commented, on viewing the hapless bride being skewered from above on the bed. "I might get jealous. Why didn't you tell me you were going to record it?"

"I wasn't sure I could pull it off," he told her, sipping from his glass. The relish on his face was not due solely to the wine. "Didn't want to build up your hopes and then disappoint."

"You had your crack team at work, did you?"

"Yes. Clementine sucked off a bellboy to gain access to the room and Alan and Scott did a very swift job of fitting the spy cameras. Clem had to repeat the same manoeuvre today to retrieve them."

"She's a game little tart, I'll give her that," she said, grinning with appreciation at his ingenuity. "Thank you for thinking of me. Now I have the Erica box-set."

"Scott was thinking of doing another edit—maybe swapping back and forth between her vows in the church and her performance in the bridal suite here. 'I take thee Stephen'—cut to rampant cock-sucking."

"I fucking love it. Can I have a copy?"

"If you like, I trust you're not going to get up to mischief with them," he said idly, casting a casual eye over his on-screen pounding of the bride. "She'll blame it on me if any of this goes public."

"Like you give a shit." She considered his words for a moment. "No, I think I've made Erica suffer enough for now. And it'll be enough fun seeing how much she squirms when I bring up the subject of her wedding day. I'll get her drunk and insist she tell me it all. I can hold the disc in reserve in case she annoys me again. God, look how excited she's getting, Stephen's going to have a hard time satisfying her after this."

"I almost feel sorry for the bastard," he said. "No, that's insincere. I was thinking of flying out to Belize with this disc and give her a good seeing-to on her honeymoon as well. But ..."

"Really?" She seemed surprised. "Why don't you let Scott and Alan do that instead? I'm sure they're gagging for a turn at her."

"No." He was firm on the point. "I like to share with my friends as much as the next man, but this was between me and Erica. They've agreed not to use their copies nefariously and I'd ask the same of you."

She stared at him. "Oh come on, Gavin, please don't tell me you're getting soppy about your blackmailed bride."

"Not at all," he said lightly. "The girl needed a proper fucking for once in her life and I gave it to her on a very appropriate day. End of story. Unless of course I choose to provide her with a first anniversary tumble ..."

"Right, that's it," his companion snapped, her irritation spurring her to action. She set aside her wine, prised his glass from his hands and went to work at the front of his trousers. "Shut the fuck up about Erica bloody Greendale-fucking-Laughton. Not another word. Christ, I hope this hard-on is for me and not her." She grabbed hold of the great erection and went down on it greedily. Then she came up glaring. "I'm going to give this the sucking it needs and then I want you to fuck me at least as hard as you nailed that bitch."

"Whatever you say, Helen. I do try to please." He lay back and surrendered to her oral attentions, toying with her hair as she gobbled downwards towards the base of his dick.

Beyond them on the screen that same gargantuan dick rammed itself into a beautiful July bride. Rammed till all her girlish primness was gone and she moaned her guilty joy. Rammed till the lust burst from inside her and she came—like a whore trailing a white wedding-veil.

THE END

Gavin Returns in Twenty-One