The Punk and The Bride

"Wait..."

He didn't let her say anything else. That one word was enough, the creature inside him didn't need any further encouragement, and in three strides he was on her; forcing that crazy skirt back, one hand around her waist - possessive and violent, one touching her face gently as he kissed her. Her lips and tongue were so hot and... God she tasted the same. So many years, just wiped away, erased by two kisses. Of course he still wanted her, he'd never stopped wanting her. Her hands were on his chest - she could push him away if she wanted to but she wasn't, she was bunching the thin fabric of his tee in her clenched fists and pulling him to her.

When they broke apart this time they both gasped, heaving in a lungful of air, but they didn't break apart. Travis was only a little taller than Ali, and they were practically eye to eye.

"I want you so much," he gasped, almost groaned, and they were kissing again. Short, powerful kisses where their lips and tongues met, tangled and broke apart again and again, driving up their pulses, shortening their breaths.

"I... I want you too," Ali brought her hands up to his face and held his head still, looking deep into his eyes. Travis was reeling - had she just said...? "I want you but... this is crazy. We can't... I'm getting married tomorrow."

"You're getting married tomorrow," repeated Travis, not mocking her, but seriously encouraging her to think about what they were doing. He had grown up. "This would be a... a spectacularly stupid thing to do."

"What would?" Ali's face, bare of cosmetics was so close and it was just like he remembered it. Every blemish and every pore - just as he remembered them. Four years and she didn't seem to have aged a day. "What would be stupid?" Her voice was low, breathless and incredibly sexy. He felt his pulse surge and his cock thicken in his too-tight jeans.

"Anything we do after this," their eyes were locked, the room could have been the size of a football pitch and they would only have been aware of the tiny box that they inhabited.

"This is... we can't." Ali said, and her voice was a wonder of regret and frustration.

"You're getting married tomorrow," Travis concluded, the disappointment rushing up to drown him.

"No," Ali smiled wryly, "I mean... physically. There's no way I can fuck in this dress, you can't get close."

"What...?" Travis was open-mouthed, but he didn't want to question it. If he questioned it Ali might have a change of heart and at the moment, as long as she had lost her mind, he was happy.

The Ali he knew, the one he had doubted had even existed, was back. She had probably been there all along, rationalising everything so that she slid easily into a comfortable, convenient relationship. But all that fire, that venom, had to come out sometime. "Fuck that." His cock was fighting for release now, pressed down against his thigh it wanted space to spring up and out, and he was eager to oblige. "No fucking wedding dress can stop us. Ok?" Ali kept him waiting for only a split second before she burst into a grin of excitement and nodded eagerly.

It was so natural, how they stepped apart and started to work things out together. Travis locked the door and started scanning the room to work out what they were going to do while Ali snatched her watch up off the table and got cracking on the time conundrum.

"We've got maybe twenty-five minutes, more depending on traffic," she looked at him sharply, concerned, "But I'm not leaving anything to chance."

"More than enough time for the bride-to-be to get the last good fuck of her single life." Travis was feeling more predatory every second - he wanted to push it now. He reached out and took her chin, gently but firmly, between his thumb and forefinger, "Are you wet?" Ali swallowed, and he saw that she was still struggling with this. Every second, her mind was swinging one way then the other. She had been caught up in the moment before, but now she was having second thoughts. Well, he wasn't. "Are you fucking wet?" he demanded again.

"Y-yes..."

"Of course you are," Travis shrugged off his leather jacket and he knew that his Ali was back, the way her eyes were hungrily reacquainting themselves with his tattoos. "There are no wires in that thing?" he nodded again at the monstrous poof of her skirt.

"No, it's all layers." He yanked a chair away from the table and then grabbed her arm - pulling her to him for another kiss. He forced his tongue into her mouth quickly this time and she gave a muffled gasp of surprise. Their tongues were loving this chance to get re-acquainted as much as they were. When the kiss broke this time Ali grabbed him by the chin. "Steady, ok? No more of that. Tom's always clean-shaven so if I've got some kind of stubble rash tomorrow..." she raised her eyebrows dangerously. "And for that matter, I'll have bare arms remember, and if you grab too tight you'll bruise me and..."

"Fuck, I want to bruise you," Travis growled, before he fought down the pounding, pulsing kick-drum beat that was ringing in his ears. "But ok, I understand. Now hurry the fuck up and bend over the table." Ali pouted, feigning offence, and Travis almost had to stop her to kiss her again. He resisted though, and watched the eerie way she was moving. Since he couldn't see her legs she might as well have been floating, but when he thought about seeing her legs in a moment his dick leapt again, desperate for freedom.

"Is this going to work?" Ali moved close to the end of the long table and carefully bent double at the waist, bending over and putting her hands flat on the top. Her massive dress was squashed between her thighs and the edge of the table, and beneath the surface it was a frozen explosion of taffeta and lace. At the back it curved out away from her slender waist towards him, still holding its original shape. Ali looked over her shoulder at him nervously, "Don't damage anything."

Travis didn't answer, he just grinned and bent to lift the dress from the very bottom.

"Hey! Wait!" Ali broke in, and Travis inwardly cursed. Her voice was trembling, nervous, was she having second thoughts again? "I want to see it... first. I want to see your cock." Travis roared with laughter. "What? I won't be able to see anything when you lift that up!"

"I know," Travis shrugged and grabbed the bottom of her pure white wedding dress and started lifting it.

The next few minutes were interminable for Travis as he wrestled with the myriad layers of fabric as best he could, trying to get to the sweet little pussy that he knew was under there somewhere. He lifted as many layers as he could, pushing them back and up so that they covered Ali's head, but then when he stooped for the next bunch of petticoats, the first set fell back on his head and he was lost in starchy, scratchy fabric.

"Fuck!" he spat, and it was Ali's turn to laugh, although he could still hear the nerves in her voice.

He started working faster, he couldn't spend all his time doing this - the consequences if they were caught would be pretty disastrous. He dug at the very bottom of the dress until finally, stretching and reaching along the floor, he reached Ali's delicate ankles. Then he slid his hands up her calves until he was sure that he had caught every layer there was. Finally he used both arms to lift the massive bundle of cloth and then he shoved it, as roughly as he dared, back so that it became a ridiculous white canopy around Ali's slender shoulders and over her head. He held it in place with one hand, catching his breath and looking down to enjoy the spectacular view he had revealed.

From where he was now Ali was just a pair of slender, beautiful legs, a deliciously pert ass and a tempting little pussy wrapped in red lace; all framed by a huge star burst of pure white lace, silk and God only knew what else. Ali's lower half emerged from the centre of this like some strange oversized stamen drooping from the world's largest flower. Travis could have taken in that view for hours.

"T-Trav?" Ali sounded nervous, but things were far enough along now. He didn't care anymore. He brought his other hand, his right hand, up and roughly grabbed the right cheek of her ass. Exactly the same as it used to be. He squeezed the pliant flesh, feeling the texture of the lace and the heat of the woman's body. Then he brought his hand away and dealt her a single, ringing slap. Ali gasped.

"You'll be wearing white panties tomorrow, right?" he asked, his voice demanding a quick response. There would have been something special about fucking the bride in her wedding day lingerie, but then the contrast of the hot red panties with the pure white dress was much more Ali. Was much more his Ali anyway. It wasn't quite a thong but these red lace panties didn't offer much more coverage. His grin widened, they'd be easy for him to pull out of the way in a moment.

"Y-yes... This is just... what I wore today." Travis moved his hand over and slipped his thumb down the crack of her ass, pressing it into the rough lace and dragging it down until he was pressing against her sensitive lips. Then he started rubbing, and to his delight Ali, unseen behind that wall of white petticoats, started to whimper.

He wanted to savour every moment of this but the clock wasn't stopping. Somewhere out there Ali's mother and sister were making their way here and terrible things would happen if they found him balls-deep in the bride. He focussed himself on the pussy under his thumb.

"I like it - the red and white. Very fucking hot," he rubbed and pressed, Ali's muffled gasps filled the room. "Oh, you were wet already weren't you!" he chuckled, and she moaned as he pressed the red lace, hard, into her already-yielding lips.

"Not so... not so rough... I'm not ready yet!" Ali's voice was cracking now, just how he liked it. Travis had never expected this, but... well, he was a fantasist and of course he had dreamed of it. But dreams and expectations were two different things.

"What? Tom doesn't push your panties into your own pussy like this?" Travis goaded, rubbing firmly with his thumb and getting Ali's bright red panties wetter, forcing them a little more between her lips. She wasn't ready, and he was sure this wasn't comfortable for her, but she was getting moister by the second.

"No... n-no he doesn't," she squealed as Travis switched his hand around and started to trace his index finger right over where he knew her clit was hiding. "Trav, please hurry! We don't have time..."

"Shhh... Do you miss it?" Ali didn't answer, just gasped for breath as he switched again, this time using a kind of open pinch to press his thumb between her lips and rub his forefinger over her clit at the same time. "I said..."

"Yes! Yes, I miss it. Fuck... sorry, I nodded but..."

"I can't see you nod Al, I can just see your ass and your hot little puss. So you're going to have to be more... explicit. Let's see..." And with that Travis tugged the little lace strip out of his ex's hot, hungry lips and yanked it roughly to one side. He tugged and stretched, heedless of Ali's gasps of complaint, and, leaning back, he took another good long look. Ali's long pussy lips were wet and flushed with blood, and between them her cunt was a gleaming pink cleft that cried out to be filled. Stretching his thumb, he pressed at her firm ass cheek and there was her dark little asshole too. It was like meeting old friends.

Travis had to do everything with one hand, because if he let go of the massive wedding dress it would come cascading down and possibly crush him. So when he moved his hand to that naked, exposed cunt, he had to let go of the red lace panties he had tugged aside. The lace didn't have much give though, so it just slipped back, but not all the way luckily - it didn't cover anything, so he could easily slip the tips of his two middle fingers between those amazing lips and penetrate her body.

"Ah! Fuck... Trav..." Ali's legs went tense as he slipped his fingers into her hot, compliant cleft.

"Wow, your puss is so goddamn hot Pussy Cat," he chuckled, "C'mon, fuck those bride-to-be hips back on my hand." Everything was so natural it was amazing, just like it used to be.

"Sh-shut up, Trav. Don't be... oooh, fuck..." But Ali was obeying, and, struggling with the weight of her dress he could see her bare legs and ankles struggling to work her hips back and fuck herself onto his fingers. She could do it, but slowly.

"Don't be what? Is it hard to shift your weight being half-girl, half-meringue?"

"Don't be such a prick! You know it is."

"I think you need the practice then Al." Travis kept his hand still, letting Ali ease her tight lips over his knuckles. "Count it off."

"What? Trav, this is not the time or the..."

"Count it off. I'm not suggesting." Travis's voice dropped several degrees, and he felt Ali shiver from the chill of it. She gasped, and the next time her hips and the vice of her cleft came back over his digits she started.

"One," she gasped as she exerted herself, trying to balance the weight of the massive dress that Travis was keeping pushed up around her head. Then she rocked her hips forwards again and Travis heard her gasp for breath before she thrust back. This time she arched her back and raised her ass, pivoting her hips less and her pert backside to take more of his fingers in. "Two."

"Very good," he praised, his voice low and diabolical, "I wonder how high you should go?" He imagined that Ali was biting her lip, not wanting to provoke him any further.

She kept going though, with each number her voice cracking and her breathing becoming more and more ragged. Her 'seven' broke into a sob and he heard her whine in frustration. But still he just stood, his two fingers hard and motionless, his other arm aching but still holding the dress up in front of him. Her pussy, hot, wet and getting wetter by the second felt just so good sucking on his fingers that he couldn't tease her for long. He wanted to sink his cock into her too badly. The clock was ticking, ticking, ticking, too.

"Good Pussy Cat," he grinned when she got to 'ten'. "Just... academically..." he hooked his thumb up and felt her stiffen as he pressed the tip of it between her sweaty cheeks and against the pucker of her anus, "does Tom give you much attention here?"

"D-don't Trav, don't even think about it..."

"Does Tom think about it? Does he ever fuck you here?" he started to stroke it gently, feeling her tremble.

"I can't... It's private..."

"I've got my fingers in your cunt, Al. I think we're beyond private." Ali was silent for a few seconds, and he felt her whole body tremble as he thumbed her asshole and impaled her on his fingers.

"He doesn't."

"Fuck, now I just want to fuck your ass so badly..." he sighed.

"Trav, seriously now, don't."

"Ok," he sighed regretfully, "not this time?" He wished he could have seen her reaction when he said that. The idea that he could meet up with her when she was married, and fuck her again... was probably too much to even dream about. "Just here then," and with that he started to pump his fingers into her, hard. He fingered her so hard that he was lucky that she was already thoroughly aroused, and that she was sopping wet from the teasing. A little voice inside, from behind the creature that was driving him, said he might be going too fast. Too fast? They were under the clock here!

And besides if he slowed down - if he didn't keep pushing Ali - she might really have second thoughts about this.

And besides, besides - the wet slap of his hand meeting her flesh, as his fingers sank into her pussy, and the way it echoed in the empty room, was all the justification he needed.

"Uhn!" Ali's ass trembled as his hand-fuck shook her whole body. The taffeta and lace were rustling and shivering all around him. "Mmm-fuck, Trav... That's really... ah... really fucking good."

"Listen very carefully Pussy Cat," he responded, and reluctantly withdrew his fingers. They came out trailing a string of her glistening juices, which he tried, and failed, to keep from falling on the dress. Oh well! He slurped his fingers clean noisily. He waited for the comment - the biting sarcasm that Ali would usually unleash when he did something provocative like that - but there was nothing. He frowned - God she was even holding her breath, waiting for his next move! "You ok?"

"Yeah, I'm... I'm good." So she didn't want out? So she was just out of practice being dirty? Well, Travis hoped that they had time for him to help her with that, or they would both be in trouble.

"Ok then, what's this sound?" Still holding her dress up he fumbled and rattled noisily as he unclasped his belt.

"Trav, we don't have time..."

"No, you don't have time," Travis shook his belt buckle again, and responded brazenly, "I'm just risking the wrath of your family. Which I mostly live with already."

"Travis!"

"What's the sound, Al?" He kept his voice calm and unhurried, watching the muscles of her thighs tense and twitch nervously. She swallowed so loud that he could hear it from behind the bridal wall.

"You unbuckled your belt." Her voice was shockingly meek - it looked like his Ali wasn't completely back after all. Shit, but no matter who she was with or what she was wearing he couldn't bear to see her without that old fire. He had to push her - just like his creature pushed him.

"And now?" He popped the button and tugged slowly on the zipper of his jeans. The dull clicking of the metal teeth coming apart. His cock, finding more room to move and to rise up against his tight cotton boxers, thanked him.

"You're undoing your... your jeans."

"And now?" he asked, even though there was nothing for her to hear but the slightest scuffing of fabric on skin.

"You've got your cock... out..." She was breathless and Travis, who had done just that, gave his member a couple of strokes in preparation - though it was pretty much unnecessary. Having the love of his life here, displaying her most private, intimate places for him in her fucking wedding dress had got him unbelievably hard. But, amazingly he found that he was still thinking things through rationally.

"Al, I don't have any condoms. Sorry, but I never really saw this coming." Ok, if anything was going to drag Alison Frost out of this lust-driven moment it was that. Serious contemplation of safety and so on. They used to always fuck bareback, but they had both slept with other people since then and things were...

"It's ok. I already thought about that," Ali cut in, almost impatiently, "I mean if you're safe? And it's ok with you, then just... just hurry up and fuck me already."

"Jesus-fucking-Christ-OK-no-problem!" Travis's prick, guided by his hand and already seeping and wet, swept across and touched gently against the soft wet folds that were the gateway into her body. And he wanted to say more, to provoke her or tease her more, to bring out more of the old Ali, but now they really couldn't wait and with a low sigh he stepped a little, thrust with his hips and then...

She was around him, holding him tight - tighter than he remembered, but just as slick and easy for him to slide into as she used to be. He didn't force it this time though, letting himself thrust as far as she would allow and just savouring the feeling of being with her again. He was so close to her now, and he could barely keep the lace and frills out of his face. He pushed them back even further with the one hand, using the other on her hips to help him keep his balance. God, she was so tight.

"Nuh!" Ali made an animal exhalation of breath as he filled her as deep as she would allow, and he wished he could see more of her, that he could really know that he was fucking Ali Frost once again. "God, I missed that... cock." Travis grunted as she said that and, inside her, muscles squeezed him. He was by no means the wielder of a prodigious weapon, but still he had nothing to be ashamed of. He bit his lip and moaned, to stop himself from prying, mockingly, about the size of the prick she had been most recently acquainting with.