Wedding Belles

"So, you're Bitty's sister." Said as a fact, even though it was a preposterous thought. They were as different as corn and beans. Nobody gonna mistake them for sisters. So he must mean the other thing.

"Yeah, we're close. Been through a lot."

Quiet for a bit, Tófi took a sip, remembered his manners, offered her the glass. She took it, drained it in one go. Handed it back. Breathed easier.

"I can get you another one of those." He said it, but looking after Trent, he didn't actually have the whiskey on him.

Nope, that's ok.

"You came in on the bike?" He was interested in motorcycles.

She nodded, pointed, raised an eyebrow. They started walking that direction. Passed Trent hurrying back to the house, something frilly in one hand, got a smile but he didn't stop.

Her bike was ticking in one corner of the lot, actually pulled off into the sand, she didn't want a drunk relative backing into it. Her only transportation, she relied utterly on it.

He walked around, looked it over.

"An Indian? I thought that was racist." He wasn't giving her any slack, gonna treat her like a person and not a fragile girl.

"Like I give a shit. I got this one cheap, it gets good mileage. A Harley beats your butt on long rides, which is a no-go."

Silent again, while he admired the extras - the worn leather trunk behind the seat, the arrow shifter linkage. The tassels on the ends of the handlebars, the remains anyway, worn to just nubs.

Out of the blue, "Is Bitty gonna be enough for you? Any time you want to stretch your muscle, say the word."

Tófi didn't blink, just reached his arms over his head, rolled his shoulders, showing off.

"Not what I meant."

"I know."

So they walked to the line of caterer's tents, very little activity right now, nothing gonna come out until after the ceremony and ball game. A small tent, Tófi untied the flaps, stepped inside and saw full kegs of beer.

Truly was right behind him, her chin just at his shoulder, her body warm pressed against. He smelled the road, dust, something musky. Leathers? Or her scent? It made his head spin.

She let the flaps fall, shrugged out of her jacket. Tófi laid it over a beer keg, unbuttoned and laid his alongside.

Truly had both arms behind her, fooling with something and the bustier came away, rigid, like a half-clamshell, the animal inside now exposed to the air. The scent of musk tripled.

So that was all her.

Tófi put one large hand, a paw really, on one firm brown breast, felt the heat. Felt her nipple grow hard.

"You're a Stonehaven now, let's put some new blood into the line." She said it like she was ordering lunch.

"You want a mixed baby?" He thought that possibly the finest thing he could imagine just now.

Truly shrugged, which did wonderful things to her torso. Two hands on her breasts.

"I can always fuck some Choctaw drifter, keep those genes going too. I have whoever I want. I want you, right now."

That made sense. And who was he, to refuse his Queen's sister? Spread the love, she'd said. Be generous with his attentions.

He unbuckled his belt, carefully stepped out of the pants. Some silky boxers under there; Truly stripped off her leathers, nothing under there but Truly. Thrust a hand into his waistband, liked what she found.

"How we gonna do this?" He was curious, would she ride him? Or he, her. Both were plausible.

She answered that by putting two hands to his shoulders, hiking herself up, wrapping her lean corded legs around his hips. Not missing a beat, Tófi moved his hands to support her rump, turned his head to kiss her.

Tasted like she smelled: musky, wet, dusty, some barbeque, must have stopped for a bite in Elk City. They just shared spit for a while, lips, tongue, teeth, getting to know each other, welcome to the family!

His member became undeniable, so she arched her back, using her vulva and found his tip with some kind of intuition, snugged onto it and slid down! Until he was fully socketed, inside his fiancé's best friend in the world, to the hilt.

Tófi inhaled sharply, let it out slowly, just feeling her strength, even her vagina was ribbed and strong, seemed to be massaging him. Her abdomen writhed as she got settled, tasting his body with hers, enjoying his strength and power, anticipating the banging to come.

"Not everybody can do that." He meant, take all of him. In fact, she was the only one, so far.

Truly raised up on his cock, pulled halfway off, then Huff! and settled back down, just showing off really, not stopping until his root was bent painfully, held and squeezed by her strong cunt muscles.

This was great, but it could be greater. So Tófi turned, took a step, sat her butt on a box of beer cups. Moved his hands to her calves, raised them to his shoulders while she let go, braced herself on the box, staring at him, never breaking eye contact.

Rocking his hips, he pulled back, back until his tip was being mouthed by her vulva, like a blowjob but in her cunt, her silent lips loving up his bulbous head. Then gracefully, effortlessly, he sheathed himself in her again, frictionless, judging the angle perfectly to pierce her body without tension, those lips strippling down his cock, sliding into her hips to rest against her womb.

Truly needed more.

"Stick your spur in me! Break me! Like a mustang filly! Breed me, stallion! Make me take your Danish dick!" She grinned, turned her feet inward, pressed the soles to his face, held his head, made him look right at her, seeing her entire length from calves to knees, her thighs, down to where they were joined flesh to flesh, his cock improbably contained in her lean abdomen, how was there even room in there?

With his hands on her thighs, pressing her legs to his chest, feeling her warmth and sweat, he began to stroke out-and-in, out-and-in, working her body, enjoying her flexing fuck-tube, his sheath now, breaking her in like new leather gloves, his cock-glove.

Her chest began to heave, her breathing synchronizing with his fuck-strokes, her hips off the crate now, arms and cock suspending her in the air, matching him thrust for thrust. Not desperate but still passionate, an expert at fucking, an athlete, her body like some fantastic gym equipment meant to strengthen core muscles, and it was working. They could both feel the heat, the burn, heartbeats rising, strong and loud in their ears.

Truly was nearing completion, clenching and twisting, making him work for her, making him want her, watching his desire grow and working that into her own.

"Pound it! Stick it into my womb! Fill my baby bag with your white Dane sperm! I need it! Give it! You bastard! Cum in me!"

He tried, he stuck it as far as it would go, his tip at her very portal but no further and began to pulse. She felt that, took a breath and screamed.

"Ayeaaah! Fucker! Do it! Fill it! Shit. Shit. Shit" and she quit talking and just clenched, making it hard for him to continue pumping into her vagina, now rigid with the effort of cumming, working against a pressurized vessel.

He grunted out his orgasm, a long moan that started loud and diminished as his balls emptied, his cock up to the job, inflating her vagina with fluid, ballooning her body around his tip with his potential and stretching her cervix, pressure making stuff blurt out where they were mated, staining the crate, leaving a wet pool of juices.

Truly opened her eyes, relaxed, sat her butt back down, wetting her entire ass in the spillage. Tófi breathed twice more, remembered to be a gentleman, released her legs to wrap around his hips, bend again, uncramp. When she was ready he backed off, his cock unthreading from her body and slapping wet against his thigh. She tensed her stomach and emitted a gush of warm churned semen, clotted and thick.

"Thanks for the white jizz!"

He was a little surprised at that. It sounded like she'd meant all that, this was breeding, and she wanted his baby.

"You drop a Bror, you let me know."

She shook her head, sat up and put both feet on the ground.

"Might not be yours? That gas station guy in Amarillo. My riding partner, left him broke down outside Tucumcari, he was gonna be sore but I had to get here, so I fucked him and split."

Tófi started to understand a little more about Truly.

"Anybody else?" Not judging, just curious.

"Hm. Bartender in Elk City, I think, I down half a bottle of Jack Daniels it gets hard to remember. Yes! I remember his fat pink dick, did me twice." She got a distant look remembering.

Came back to the present. "And, whoever I fuck today, gonna be hard to know but I'm feeling awful horny so I must be right. Button me up."

She'd fetched the bustier, handed it to him. Like a gentleman, polite and respectful now, Tófi fitted it on and figured out the clasps.

She pulled on her leathers, the cum leaking down her legs made them go on easy, slide right up. Shrugged into her jacket and was ready to go.

"Maybe again later?" She grinned and disappeared through the flaps, leaving a bemused groom to sort out his pants, shirt and jacket, again.

"How does this work?" Trent had the garter, just an elastic ring of lace, supposed to go on her thigh? How high? Was it adjustable?

Mom had split just as Trent knocked, the ice had arrived, they wanted to dump it and go, she had to find some place to put it.

"Dunno. Never wear one, who does? Just a wedding thing." She took it from him, hiked up her skirt, put her bare foot on a chair. Trent watched, unable to look away while she snugged it over her foot, drew it up her calf. She noticed, wiggled her ankle, made him startle.

"Sorry! Just, I haven't seen that since..."

Since college he didn't say. They'd slept together a couple of times, once after a ball game and then in her dorm room, a late night studying. Was fun but they both had other plans.

Why didn't I marry him? Bitty had kind of regretted passing him up. Well, he's not the marrying kind, that was obvious. And the clan thing: marry outside, an imperative from two centuries ago, still strong in the family psyche. Keep the blood line strong! And look at the dividends: Ash, Opal, Diva, Francine. Even Momma! And now, Tófi.

"Can I help?" Trent was still staring, she had paused in reverie, exposing her naked leg to him, her panties.

Did he want to...or was he just Trent, being Trent? What the fuck.

"You interested?" She asked without looking at him, kept snugging the garter up, it had to be scandalously far so it was sexy when Tófi took it off, her crotch nearly exposed to all those horny single guys.

"I envy the groom, I guess."

She had a response for that.

"Oh yeah! He's a cummer all right! Bangs me soooo good! I just look into those eyes, I get wet. Those pecs! And the stamina! Like a steam engine."

Trent was at a loss for words; this had gone further than he'd intended, even as a joke.

Bitty continued, "I'm horny as fuck. I haven't had a minute with Tófi since before the stag party! No time! Tell you what. I need you to pound one out in me? Settle me, so I can finish all this. A good breeding, that would be just the ticket."

Trents mouth was hanging open, not sure what to say. Figured out something.

"Sure I'd love to, you always have turned me on. But really? On your wedding day? Minutes before you say I Do! and tie the knot? What would Tófi think."

She snorted. "He's out there banging some cousin right now, you can bet on that. We had to come to some agreement, right off. He's this media sex-symbol athlete, women throw themselves at him all day long. He keeps them happy, keeps them coming and it's good for his career! Long as he comes back to my bed in the end, we're square. He has plenty left over, believe me."

Trent did believe her.

"But... but we could make a baby?" Bitty had never used anything, not even in college. Just the rhythm method. Lucky they didn't already have a kid.

"Fuck yeah! I'm fertile as shit." She dipped a finger into her panties, came out with stringy pussy-juice, the sure sign of an ovulating bitch.

That ended the discussion. A horny fertile ovulating sex-pot ex-lover wants you to breed her, right now, a gentleman can't refuse. Never say no to the ladies! It's just not right.

"You gonna take all that off?" There was clearly no time, it had taken forty minutes to get it all strapped on.

In answer Bitty flipped up her skirt, bent over the chair seat and stuck out her butt. She had panties on, something like panties but split down the middle, meant for impromptu breeding, her wet slit exposed and gaping. Supposed to be for Tófi, in the honeymoon suite but hey it worked for anybody.

They could hear the crowd outside on the lawn, somebody saying something, getting them to move to the marriage venue, just a field on the hill. No time left for niceties.

Trent unzipped, pulled himself out with an effort, he was already stiff. Put hands on Bitty's hips, lined up and probed carefully.

Bitty was impatient; she pushed back, seated herself on his dick firmly, inhaling sharply.

"That goes, huh, right in there! I remember you! Welcome back, little guy!"

Not so little; she'd teased him about his length back in college. He was nine inches, thin but very stiff when he was most excited. He was rigid now.

He stroked carefully, mindful of the clothes, the situation. A little worried Bitty's Mamma might return at any moment.

"Get a move on! I need a screamer! Punch it into my guts already!" She started a vigorous lurching, forward and back, sliding her vagina along his strong member, vulva clenched tight, like a pussy-handjob.

"Jesus! Bitty!" and that's all the words he had, he had to work to keep inside her, make sure he didn't slip out or step on some skirting or tug at the wrong thing. Figured out he could grab her naked hips above the 'panties', began stroking in earnest.

Slow and steady, then harder, then hard as he could, he meant to give good service to his third cousin, his childhood friend. Always there for each other! And she needed him now.

"Yeah, don't stop, shove it up in me, getting wetter! Oh, I can feel you, your lubrication is working, oooooooh!"

His clear juices were making this easier, her hole was slick as snot now, it was effortless to penetrate to the hilt. He kept it up, long firm strokes, squeezing her hips, holding tight and he felt her shifting her feet. Did she want to stop?

No! She was quivering, her hips doing a little jerky dance, trembling, cumming!

"Fuck! Trent! Fuck!" and she put her face to the chair seat, bent almost double, her skirts falling, covering her upper body, she was just two silk-clad legs, a round butt and gaped cunt now, something to fuck.

And he came, fuck fuck fuck and he blew both nuts in her, all he had and then some, leaving some deep inside and some slithering out as he continued his methodical stroking, meaning to do her right even though his knees were weak, keep stroking as long as she was cumming, make it last.

Her cunt hole clenched, spasmodically, rhythmically for a bit, subsided. Bitty breathed a bit, raised herself on her arms, looked over her shoulder.

"Thanks! I needed that! Good job! Did you get it all inside?" She reached back, felt the wet sloppy mess that was her butt and crack. Yuck.

"Sorry! I think we made quite a mess!" and they heard Mama coming down the hall, talking to someone.

"All good!" and Bitty flipped her skirts down, stood in front to let Trent try to get his still-wet dick inside his pants, zip without savaging himself. Succeeded just as the door opened.

Mama came in and Trent slipped by, gotta take my place! And Mamma was all tears and pride and kissing her only daughter. Last thing Trent saw as he went out - the large obvious wet spot on Bitty's petticoat, exactly where everybody would see and know what it was.

The bridesmaids and groomsmen were in place, the officiants were ready, Tófi was standing, ready, looking down between the seated multitude, looking for his love, eyes only for her.

Mother Kane was sitting in front, with her mother, no nonsense about bride's and groom's sides here, it was all one family today. They sat close together, friends already, couldn't be more different but had spent days chatting about flowers and food, about children and schooling, like mothers do!

Told Mama, she'd thought her son was gay, but no, it just took the right woman. Bitty was perfect for him, indulging him, supporting him, tolerating him, letting him be strong for her.

Some music, drums and a flute, and she recognized a tune that Truly had taught her, choked up but still able to do this, she began walking between her family and friends, among them. Gasping appreciation for her dress, for how she looked, her hair with flowers, the sun shining on her silver and opal, brilliant as the sky!

And a little tittering, when she passed, some spotted the wet spot and smiled, whispered, sure it was Tófi that did it, a bride and groom unable to wait just that one more hour. Tófi's reputation was cemented among the menfolk, the rutting stag who could not keep away from his wife for even one day! Even though it was Trent's, that was her own business and Trent wasn't talking.

What would Momma Kane think? Bitty got to the front, a long walk alone but she felt Papa there, it was ok, she was warmed by the sun exactly as Papa's smile had warmed her, they'd had years together, just not this moment. Took Tófi's hand, turned together to smile at the crowd and Momma Kane was proud, she could not have missed the evidence on the petticoat and she was smiling through tears! Met Bitty's eye, smirked, gave her a thumbs-up, in on the secret. Bitty's heart leapt, what a great mother-in-law she will be!

Her son, a real man, he proved it, they've jumped the gun! Oh well, if the baby is born in nine months who will know the difference!

Some promises were said, the audience included, promising to support and respect, to welcome the newcomers to the clan! They said their vows, hers to be a support to the home and family, his to be a stalwart pillar to his wife and her clan, to give all he had to her and expect only love in return.

Quite a few shining eyes after that, he had said it convincingly, meant every word.

Then the Moms came forward, Mother Kane with a piece of Danish linen, embroidered and fine. Momma with a strip of homespun, embroidered by aunties in symbols of grace and fertility. The couple tied a knot, tied it tight! Never to be pulled apart.

Then a kiss, beginning chaste but turning to love as Bitty melted in his embrace, he supported her, clearly her legs were not up to it, she was a ragdoll in his arms.

The crowd went wild! The somber tone thrown to the wind, wild cat-calls and whoops, cheers and laughter and Tófi set her down carefully, smiling and smiling, sure he belonged now, he had a family and that stirred something he'd not known was there, not realized he'd been missing.

And they broke up, a milling crowd of well-wishers and running children and the caterers bustling in the background, the feast would be ready in just a few minutes! While you're waiting, the bride and groom will choose teams for a quick stick-ball game, the honor of the clans at stake!

So Tófi chose Trent and Bitty chose Truly, her bridesmaids, the other groomsmen and they shucked out of suitcoats and shawls and changed shoes, Ash just went barefoot.

Opal stripped out of her half million in jewels (Bitty wore the ring now) and handed it all in a wad to Donnie to take charge of without a second thought, leaving him stunned as something moved in him, something off-center fell hard, back into place.

They all repaired to a makeshift field, the crowd forming the boundary and the goals never really quite clear. Truly and Diva gave them a run for their money, Opal proved to be a more-than-competent passer but that was countered by the groomsmen being pole-axed by the sight of Ash dashing around, a flickering flame, those pale bare legs gleaming under her short skirt, barefoot and strong and they couldn't take their eyes away.