The Punk and The Bride

Sorry to be fucking your fiancee Tom, but you are kind of a jerk. Also, it sounds like mine's bigger than yours.

"What are you waiting for?" Her voice was still shaking, still nervous, but crackling a little more now, a little more irritated.

"Just enjoying every second Pussy Cat," he grinned, "now try and relax..." He pulled his hips back, slipping out as far as he dared - until her pussy was just a tight clamp around his bulging head - then he thrust back in again. This time she let him in deeper. He knew she could take his whole length, and he wanted her too. He wanted to really be able to fuck her, deep, hard and violently. Just like he used to.

"Mmmuh!" she grunted again, and this time the grip on his shaft almost made him drop his tiring arm and let the dress come tumbling down around him. "Did you get... bigger or something?" Her voice broke so sweetly that his heart beat even faster.

"Pussy Cat, don't say that, you'll give me a big head. And my head's already big enough to stretch that little pussy. Feels to me like you got a whole lot tighter too." He moved faster now as she relaxed and loosened up, getting used to being penetrated by the fatter prick. Now, he was deep inside her, almost flush with her hips. And almost without either of them noticing they starting moving to a rhythm. They started fucking.

There was no way he could escape that wall of white to see himself splitting her pussy open like he wanted to. In fact, all he could see was white now, he couldn't even push the dress back enough to see her ass, or the base of her back. In that way they were equal now, both unable to see the old lover they were fucking.

"I think you might be bigger than..."

"Ssshh, Al. Tell me later, I don't want to talk about him now." Travis even surprised himself by saying that. He didn't want to talk about Tom? About how his manhood was bigger than Tom's? Of course he did! Then again - sex now, gloating later. "God I missed this cunt so much," he groaned as he got faster still. Now she was shaking. Now the dress was wobbling and shaking all around him. Now they were really moving.

"Ah... uh-huh... deep, like that." Her voice was getting higher, and he found that he'd forgotten that about her. Remembering just made it even sweeter. He struggled to obey, really pushing himself until his thin hips were pressing and squashing into the soft cheeks of her ass. "Oh wow... fuck!" she almost squealed as he did this, penetrating her so deep it was almost too much. Sometimes she stopped him when he went so deep. She used to stop him. Whatever.

His hips started to slap against her and he could hear them clearly, mingling with her short, sharp gasps and half-spoken curse-words. The bride-to-be's sticky little cleft was completely yielding to him now; it was tight, but he could go as fast as he wanted. So he let himself go; he let the creature inside go as fast as it wanted.

"Fuck! Fu... shit! Trav, this... is... incredible..." He didn't know, he couldn't see, but he imagined his hips were probably a blur as he just... humped his ex as hard and fast as he could. "Can you... can you touch me too?" The half gasped, half sobbed request, the hint of begging in her voice - there was no way Travis could refuse. And for some reason he didn't even feel close to his own climax. It was as if his subconscious was somehow holding him back, wanting to prolong this - perhaps the last time he'd get to fuck Ali Frost - for as long as possible.

But to reach under her, to get to the precious clitoris that was demanding attention, he had to lean forwards. And he still needed to support himself on her hips but then, with one hand supporting himself on her, and the other... really on her, he couldn't hold back that crazy wall of white. Oh well.

"I'm going to let go of your dress, and... well yeah."

"What?" Ali's was getting lost in the thrust, the wet slap, the prick that was filling her - her voice was distracted.

"See you later I mean," Travis gasped and, leaning forward, he pressed himself into the petticoats that faced him and moved his hand down. With a sigh and a rustle the layers and layers of fabric settled around him, muffling the sounds of his hips and of Ali's sweet, girlish whimpering, and stranding him in a white void.

His finger was at her lips now, and he slipped it inside, feeling his own prick as he invaded her again and again. But the feeling was surreal, as if he were touching someone else's body. He couldn't see himself fucking her, fumbling for her clit; he could only feel it. "Fuck, this is hot," he said, and Ali's voice answered him but he couldn't make out what she was saying. How were they doing for time? Fuck it.

Ah, there it was! His searching index finger slipped, in the wet mess of her crotch, over a hard little nub of flesh and he quickly returned to it. Rubbing blind, going only on touch. And his lean hips, stoking in and out of her, were on automatic pilot, though... now, oh wow, now he could feel it. He could feel the peak approaching. As he touched her clit Travis felt Ali's hips jump, and the squeak of pleasure was shrill enough to pierce the dense white shroud he was submerged in.

"Shit!"

She went on, but he couldn't make any of it out, and he was lost now. He couldn't see anything but white, couldn't hear anything but muffled grunts and gasps, and every sensation in his body seemed to be coming through his twitching, throbbing shaft as he plunged it time and again into the honeyed, silken channel of her cunt; and the tip of his index finger on his left hand, where he was flickering it back and forth over her clit.

She was shaking and her movements caused his entire, pure white world to shiver and hiss around him. She felt so right on him that he was lost for words; not that it even mattered, she couldn't have heard him if he had found anything to say. He was pumping into her wildly, his breath hoarse, ragged, echoing in his own ears. And his finger kept... it kept slipping off her... off her clit... he couldn't concentrate. God she was getting tighter! She was... oh wow, she was coming.

The experience was utterly surreal. Cut off from the outside world, when Ali's hips froze and her pussy clenched itself like a fist around his prick, Travis was thrown for a second. But when she started spasming - gripping him then releasing him - and when he felt his finger slipping through a little... then a lot more of her sweet juices, he remembered everything. She came just like she used to. He just wished he could have heard her properly! But he could feel it, and knowing that he'd driven this amazing woman to an orgasm in her wedding dress on the night before she got married made him feel... evil and wonderful.

But it was going to get better. He was concentrating on his pleasure now and soon his prick was going to be shaking and jerking, pumping his spunk into her tight little puss like he had done so many times before. Never in a wedding dress though. He was getting closer, and the sensory deprivation tank of her skirts and petticoats was a fantastic way of focussing his senses on the pleasure that was shooting through him with every plunge, every savage thrust. He was almost...

Suddenly he was overbalancing, and with an awkward, uncomfortable bend of his prick he was out of her, his member twitching and lost in her petticoats just like the rest of him. She had lifted herself off the table and shoved him! What the hell was... she didn't want him coming inside her? Jesus, what the fuck? He stumbled, disoriented to be dragged back to reality, and momentarily unable to find his way out of his pure white lace cocoon.

Ali stepped away as well, moving from the table, and with a gasp he staggered back into the room. He looked furiously back over at her, an array of colourful trash talk loaded on his lips, but her terrified expression and the raised finger pressed to her lips instantly made him realise what was up.

There was a knock at the door.

"What time is it?" he hissed.

"It's not my mother, we still have at least ten minutes!" she half mimed back, "We must have! I think it's Claire."

"Claire?" Who the fuck was... oh, the assistant who took her coffee break. Great. Sure enough her voice filtered through the wood of the door straight away.

"Uh, Alison? Miss Frost? Mister... uh... are you in there?"

Travis shrugged, made a face, sourer than sucking on lemons, and started trying to ease his rock hard, come-slick prick back into his underwear. So, we'd better get cleaned up; his expression said. But Ali still looked utterly spooked.

"You can't be here!" She whispered, coming closer to talk to him, and sorting out her rumpled, lopsided dress as best she could.

"We'll just tidy ourselves up and she'll be none the..."

"We locked ourselves in - alone - and then we were slow to answer the..." Ali squeezed her eyes shut at Travis's blase attitude, "No-one's that stupid! And no-one can know about this!" Travis tried to stop the smile, but failed - whenever he got a look at that old bite it made him unreasonably happy.

"So... what?"

"You've got to hide! I'll pretend I was like... sorting something out and then... you can slip out later or something!"

"Ali... hide where?" Travis stretched out his arms - the room was inconveniently open. "Under the table? She'll see me for sure, and me hiding is about a million more time more suspicious than..." Travis stopped, and started grinning from ear to ear.

"Trav, be serious, what the hell..." Ali's face was flushed with blood, though Travis believed that was because of the thorough fucking and trembling orgasm he'd just given her, rather than the stress of the situation. He was an optimist like that.

"Trust me, and do what I say."

- - -

"Sorry Claire I was... I... had my..."

"Are you ok Alison? I didn't know what was going on!"

"I had my, y'know, my tits out."

"Oh!" the assistant squeaked. Travis couldn't help but grin. She probably hadn't heard Ali being so explicit before, and Ali herself probably hadn't even noticed it slipping out. He'd dragged her back into the gutter when they'd fucked. She'd have to watch herself around Tom now. Fuck, his foot was cramping.

"I needed a second to..."

"Where's uh... whatsisface?" Travis held his breath and looked up. Go-on, he thought, say the stupidest think you could say. Say: he's between my thighs right now.

His nose was inches from her pussy, from the hastily rearranged crotch of her red lace panties, and her hot thighs were pressing against either side of his head. His legs were folded crazily and very uncomfortably beneath him, and the smell - oh God, it just smelled like pure, raw, unfiltered sex down there. Like animals and heat and... so, so good.

He was hidden in the small space at the centre of the upside down bloom of Ali's wedding dress. Again his world was a rustling world of lace and taffeta but this time he was also pinned between Ali's long, gorgeous legs, and her hot thighs - slick with sweat and her own girl-juice where it had trickled or been smeared down.

"Travis left a few minutes after you did. Listen it turns out this bra isn't... I'm not quite happy with it. Y'know, with this shoulderless number I don't want to be worrying about... anything."

Travis listened carefully, and slowed his breathing until he could barely hear it himself. But in this position... how could he possibly just sit there and do nothing? Ali was completely at his mercy. He put his hands on her thighs - loving the heat that was still coming off them, and slid them up. If she could get rid of this girl then they would have a few precious minutes together before he had to escape.

"Right?"

"Ah-um," he heard the tremble in her voice. Now that the petticoats weren't pressed against his head he could hear a lot better. He turned his head the tiniest amount and sunk his teeth, ever-so slightly, into her thigh. She tasted of salt and sex. "Can you be a darling and go up to my room and get me... an-nh... other bra." His hands slipped higher and he pressed his fingers against the edges of her panties... oh God, she was still so wet she was seeping out... he started stroking back and forth very gently. He hoped that she had a whole lot of self control.

"Oh... sure! Do you have one in mind?"

"Mmm... yes?" he grinned as Ali's voice broke upwards in an absurd way.

"Alison are you...?"

"I'm fine! Fine!" she squeaked, "Just that rearranging this dress... it's pinching a bit..."

"Oh! Let me see, I'll fix it for you!" Claire sounded so helpful, but even Travis grimaced nervously when he heard her step forwards - perilously close to his hiding place. He didn't stop his fingers though. He pushed Ali's panties aside again, just as he had done when she had been bending over the table for him, and then lovingly pulled her long, luscious pussy lips apart. In the dim light she was a glittering jewel, gleaming and glistening.

"No!" Ali cried, far to loud, and both of the other people in the room froze. "Just go get the bra first then we'll sort the whole lot out and I can get ready for the... mmmfff..." He heard Ali bite her lip and tail off. She was fighting for control, and it was all his fault, he'd just slid two fingers into her defenceless pussy. His other hand was quicker to find her clit this time too, and he felt her thighs tense around his head.

"Are you sure you're ok?"

"I think a little... indigestion... ah!"

"Oh, Alison!"

Indigestion? Travis almost had to stifle a laugh, Ali was still Ali, she could really think on her feet. Or on her back, whatever position she happened to be in. He started fingering her in earnest, exploring her slowly so as not to make a noise, and quickly strumming his other two fingers over her clit faster and faster. He wanted to taste her but he couldn't squeeze his face between her thighs without her spreading them much wider.

"The white bra with the little p-pink flowers." Travis's prick, that had been shrinking a little from the nerves and lack of attention, started stiffening back up again. It was still jutting up, fully exposed from his groin, and his jeans and underwear were still halfway down his thighs. If the girl had found him there would have been very little room for improvisation. He reached his fingers up, inside Ali, and hooked them slightly - searching for her g-spot. "Can you... can you also see if they have anything for... numfff... indigestion at reception?"

"Oh sure! Are you sure you don't need me to..."

I just..." Ali's voice was a tremulous squeak, and she had to cough to get it under control, "I just need a few minutes alone I think."

"OK, I'll hurry! I'll be right back!" Travis couldn't believe she had fallen for it, as the young woman's footsteps headed for the door.

"Claire!" Ali's voice was shaking so badly - how could the girl not be suspicious? "The... fuck... the key. You forgot... fuh..." Again he fought to contain his laughter as Claire dashed across the room to take the room key off Ali. He started finger-fucking her faster now, the other girls footsteps hiding the soft, sexy wet sounds he was making in her. Oh, and she was getting so wet... so very wet. She couldn't be far away from another climax

"God! Hold on ok?" This was insane, the girl was lovely, but utterly naive.

"I'll... hngh... try..." gasped Ali, and Travis heard her breathing out long, snorting, equine gasps through her nose. He put more pressure on her perfectly slippery clit, pinching around it and pulling the flesh to tease it even better. Oh... he felt the tight walls of her pussy clenching around his fingers... here it comes.

As the door slammed Ali bent double and released a savage, violent grunt. Travis, his fingers as deep inside her as they could go, gasped in surprise as a sudden rush of liquid soaked his digits and dripped down onto his, still upturned face. For a second Ali's thighs became a vice, trying to crush the top of his head and she let out the string of curse words she had been bottling up for Claire's benefit.

"Shit, fuck, fuck, fuck, motherfucker!" Actually, Travis thought, she used to do that with more variation.

"Was I distracting you?" He knew his voice would be muffled, but he was sure she would understand. He slowly withdrew his fingers from her quivering folds and sucked them clean again.

"Motherfucker!" she hissed, but not without a hint of happiness, "Get the fuck out from under there."

"I said was I distracting you?" He carefully lifted the layers and layers of her dress and crawled out.

"Ok, now, you've really got to get out of here. Trav, we..." Ali tailed off as he stood up, a comically innocent expression on his face and the demanding curve of his cock clutched in his fist. She bit her lip, and her face flushed an even deeper red.

"I've still got this thing Pussy Cat. I'm not leaving until you do something about it." His voice was calm and more than a little threatening. She clenched her fists and glanced at the clock, then at the door.

"Shit."

"Tick-tock Pussy Cat," he smirked, starting to jerk himself off, feeling like some depraved sex-fiend. He loved feeling like that. He was daring Ali so shoot him down, to lay down the law and just tell him to grow-the-fuck-up and get out, but instead his eyes widened in disbelief as she gathered her petticoats as best she could and lowered herself into a crouch, then knelt in front of him.

"Come here, and don't step on the fucking dress."

Travis didn't need to be asked twice (he probably wouldn't have needed any verbal prompt at all in fact) and he carefully widened his stance so he could bring his proud member to bear on Ali's gorgeous face without standing on her wedding dress. The dress was still a pure, virginal white, despite the dirty activities that had been going on behind and under it.

"You get to taste both of us," grinned Travis as Ali took him in her left hand and started pumping him, "I'm still wet from your cunt."

"Shut up and come, you shit," she responded, and there, in the dirty smirk and the foul language, was his Ali, back to one hundred percent again.

Her lips closed around his head, her tongue lavishing his tip with attention while one hand jerked him as fast as she could. He let his head and his lean shoulders fall back. Tom had to be enjoying this though right? Lucky fucker, he was going to be marrying the best cock-sucker that Travis had ever known.

Oh God! As her lips moved further down his shaft and she started to bob her head in time with her hand he saw the light at the end of the tunnel rushing to meet him. She always did it so well, with so much saliva that it ran down onto his balls when she rushed like this. Incredible. Her tight fist controlling him, her lips and tongue making everything go twice as fast.

Her finger was poised, ready to penetrate his unknowing asshole when suddenly he half coughed, half laughed and thrust his rigid tool further into her mouth, spurting and spraying. His balls were clenching and bobbing in their sack and without thinking he brought his hands round and held her head in position while he came, copiously, into her mouth.

"Mmmf!" she complained a little at this rough treatment, but he wasn't gagging her. The size of the load was a little difficult to deal with though, and as he made his last few thrusts he broke the seal she was struggling to maintain and trails of his semen started to trickled down her chin. "Mmmmf!" she squeaked again, and brought her hands up to collect everything that escaped, lest it fall onto her dress.

It had taken her less than ten seconds to get him to ejaculate into her mouth.

"Ho-o-o-oly SHIT!" He couldn't help the shout of joy that burst from his chest. "That was fucking... Wow! You were going to finger my ass weren't you? Dirty Pussy Cat!" He stepped back and pulled himself out of her lips with a slight sucking sound. Ali looked up at him, clearly still holding his seed on her tongue, then swallowed it showily. She kept her hands, gingerly, delicately near her face as if expecting his creamy come to drip off her from some unexpected location at any moment.