Loading...“I love that you’re having your wedding on National Nude Day, sis” Constance Happenstance said to her older sibling, Patience.
“Well, it was already a special day, since it’s the anniversary of Peter losing his virginity, then walking with me at the head of the Paradise Valley National Nude Day Parade. In a few hours he went from being uncomfortable that this is America’s leading ‘Clothing Optional’ Community, to being a future town elder.”
“And how many other places does the bride wear only a veil?”
“After the wedding, we’ll lead the Parade again. This year it will end with a reception at our barn.”
“Too bad it won’t be as sex filled as the Reindeer Games at Christmas.”
“Mom is such a prude, no wonder she’s named Prudence. She’ll insist on the usual dull decorum of ‘nudity, not sexuality’. Unlike at Christmas, Dad and the rest of the community will obey her will. So I guess you won’t be getting any sis.”
“Well, I am the maid of honour. You could share the groom with me.”
“You had your taste of that at Christmas, sweetie. Tonight is just the two of us.”
“Can you pack me in your suitcase for the honeymoon? Since you’re just traveling to the Secret Beach to camp nude next to the ocean, you won’t need many clothes. You’ll have lots of room. Peter’s cock is so delicious. Plus it fits my cunny so nicely.” Constance blushed; pausing to adjust the garter which adorned Patience’s naked thigh. “Plus, I would love the time to explore which is better. You licking me, or tasting you on my own tongue.”
Patience laughed. “No need to chose, little sister. Haven’t you heard of 69?”
Drawing her sister close, Patience enveloped her in a bear hug, lips locking in a most unsisterly kiss. A similar smooch had broken barriers on Christmas Eve. Neither girl had tried to recreate that passion since. Patience had fucked Peter regularly, of course, usually several times a day. At 19, Peter had the power to recover almost instantly. Only frequent blow jobs relieved his hormones enough to go nude at school without damaging his fuck stick on an open locker door. Since sex at school was against the Paradise Valley code, Patience had become familiar with all the secluded spots, from under the stage to the janitor’s closet to beneath the bleachers. Poor Constance was regularly recruited to stand watch, but the engaged couple believed that Constance would never find a lover to call her own if they let her join them in everyday play.
“Next Christmas, we’ll all join in Reindeer Games,” they would reply to her pouting requests for relief. Sometimes, they would add “and you can bring a guy – or girl – of your own, to square the circle.”
“I’d prefer a guy with a ten inch uncircumcised cock, not so fat, cause I might let him try my virgin ass,” Patience might tease, ” since Peter’s meat is far too fat to fit that passageway.”
If Constance was in a playful mood, she might retort that maybe Patience would truly rather Constance elect to fly the Sapphic flag, saying “I think what you really want is a hottie like Sarah Milton to lick your clit. That girl has such a cute little pink tongue. I think you come every day watching her chew her eraser in Math class.”
Most often though, Constance would be silently on guard, her thighs rubbing tightly against each other, teasing her swollen clit, fantasizing that it was her wetness Peter was fucking. Instead, she had to attain her own orgasm, occasionally deviating from her duties to watch as Peter’s strong love muscle penetrated Patience’s wet loins. Constance had deduced that although she had a better view when Peter rammed hard and fast into Patience doggy style, the best orgasms for all three of them came when Patience lifted her legs up on Peter’s shoulders while he held her ass in both hands, levering Patience’s hips on and off his cock. This afforded Constance plenty of glances at the length and girth of Peter’s cock, glistening with her sister’s moistness. Constance would find herself licking her lips, breathing shallow, nipples throbbing, aching to be touched. She most often came at the moment when she saw Peter’s goo oozing out of Patience’s pussy. Even more thrilling were the times she saw Peter licking the excess cream off Patience’s tummy or thighs. Afterwards, alone in her room that night, Constance sometimes wondered if she was excited more by the thought of tasting Peter’s semen, or of sticking her tongue deep inside her sister, trailing carefully through all her folds, extracting each morsel, and ensuring that at the end, Patience got a further deeper orgasm by Constance nibbling at her clit in the secret way she knew her sister liked best.
Before Christmas, Constance had often used her vibrator, Professor Pink, while listening to her sister and Peter through the common wall of the adjoining bedrooms. She loved pretending the plastic toy was really Peter’s huge cock pulsing inside her. Since tasting the real meat, just thinking of fucking Peter could get the eighteen year old off.
That was all behind them now. Peter and Patience had graduated. They would be going off to university in a few months, leaving their nudist ways behind. Also leaving Constance’s tight gymnast’s behind. Lately, the two sisters had fought about Constance’s desire to follow them in a year. Patience kept insisting that would never happen – that Constance needed to find her own lover, and start her own journey.
Despite Patience’s resolve to spurn Constance’s lust, in this moment before the wedding, the sisters shared a kiss which was all consuming and passionate. In addition to the tradition that the bride wear only a veil (and garter), Paradise Valley bridesmaids carried a bouquet, and wore only matching flowers in there hair. Constance was in fact flouting tradition by adding high heels and silky white stay up stockings. Thus, Patience’s full breasts were pushed tightly against her sibling’s, with no fabric separating them. Patience chuckled as she seemed to notice first that her nipples were getting aroused.
“We better stop this foolishness before we get carried away and I’m late for my own wedding.”
Constance released the bride from her hug, pouting slightly. “You’re the one that started all the talk of 69.”
“I think you better find yourself a guy. Or a girlfriend. You must be the only person at the wedding without a date. I was hoping after I shared Peter’s pleasures with you Christmas eve that you’d become the blowjob queen of the junior year.”
“Yeah, Mom catching the three of us coated in cum sleeping together kind of killed that. I can’t even get slack to go to the movies with Sarah Milton.”
“I guess it’s your clit you want her to lick, then, rather than mine?”
“Well, the very thought of sitting next to her in the darkness of a movie theater gives me the shivers. I imagine us necking.”
“Really. I see you both as too shy. Who would start?”
“I don’t think Sarah is shy, the way she flirts with guys and gals alike. The Little Miss Innocent routine is just part of her cocktease act. Especially the way she chews her erasers excessively, and then she looks away then looks up just to see who’s looking at her. I sometimes wish I had panties on so I could leave my wet panties in her locker as a hint how much I want her.”
“Well, guess what. She’s a guest at the wedding.”
“Why? I thought you never liked her.”
“Mom invited her to try to suck up to the Miltons. Daddy Milton is Mr. Moneybags you know, and Mom wants a loan to buy more land for the farm.”
“From all I here Mom would get ahead quicker giving Old Man Milton head.”
“Ewww. Gross. He’s older and smellier than Mr. Pennywhistle, the banker who tried to feel you up on Christmas Eve. Say….do you think Sarah learned tongue action practicing on her Dad?”
“Double eww. Just because Peter gets stiff watching his Mom and Dad fucking doesn’t change the fact that Paradise Valley is square against incest.”
Both sisters laughed together at the silliness of Constance’s last remark, since their Reindeer games clearly crossed that line. As if to emphasize the point, Constance reached up and cupped Patience’s left breast, kneading it gently until the nipple rose. The younger sister bent forward and kissed the nub. “Tasty. What did you put on them?”
“Strawberry gloss. Peter’s Mom gave it to me. She explained that when we go for pictures after the vows, the nipples would look washed out with makeup. She said Peter’s Dad really liked the strawberry stuff on their honeymoon. So it’s both my something borrowed and something old. At least, an old idea of an aphrodisiac.”
“I doubt Peter needs any help in that department. Seems to me he’s still hard ever minute he’s around you.”
Patience giggled. Her sister had distracted her perfectly from the moment at hand, but now, in a few minutes she would walk down the aisle. Would Peter be waiting at the altar with a smile on his face and a hard on? If so, what would Mother say? To stifle her giggling fit, Patience swallowed some handy champagne. Impulsively, she drizzled a trail across Constance’s breasts and then licked them clean, paying particular attention to her sister’s nipples. “You taste pretty fair yourself.”
“Thanks, but we best stop. Dad will be here in a second. You’ve got me so horny I might jump Sarah as we walk down the aisle.”
“I hope not. She probably has brought a date.”
Constance slumped, pouting again.
“Maybe he might share. You liked your first threesome.” Patience was trying to cheer her up.
“I always imagined Sarah just with me.” Again Constance blushed. “Okay, sometimes her, you and me as three. But never her, me and some guy.”
Good sense abandoned Patience for the moment. Not worrying about Dad arriving at any second, she said, “Quick, tell me what you imagine happening in your threesome imagination.”
Patience was shocked at her own question. She never thought of sex without a guy. All her threesome dreams featured at least one good hard cock, usually Peter’s. Sarah Milton was a hot young girl –well, young woman – but Patience did not share the depth of Constance’s passion about her. Still, Patience felt the familiar swelling of her breasts and labia as sexual hormones flowed through her veins. She watched Constance’s already stiff nipples rising with her excited breathing. Without thought, Patience reached over and stroked Constance’s breasts.
Murmuring like a cat being groomed, Constance closed her eyes and started talking about one of her favourite fantasies. “There are lots of variations, of course. One of my frequent dreams that wakes me up all hot and sweaty with my fingers buried in my cunny is of Sarah coming to our farm with her Daddy when he’s talking business with Mommy. They are in the house, so to get us out of the way, Mommy asks me to show Sarah the barn.”
Constance paused as Patience lowered her mouth to suckle a nipple, then resumed. “Sarah starts out the sex subject by asking me whether I think the real reason that they wanted privacy was so that they could fuck. She uses that word too. She’s so sweet looking with the heart shaped face, the short sandy hair with bangs and barrettes, that her use of the word seems more shocking than the idea of our uptight Mom and her stuffy father actually doing it. I take a risk, since it’s a dream not real life. I point out a big horse cock in the next stall and compare it to her Dad’s. I mean, the man is crabby, but he’s sure endowed. Sarah answers with an ‘eww’ and goes beet red. All the while her eyes never leave the stallion. I can tell that she fantasizes about her Dad. Sometimes I picture us making love right there, watching the horse get excited. In that fantasy, I boldly reach over and touch her cheek, like there’s a tear there. My hand rests on her chin. She raises her eyes to meet mine and grins. Without a word, we sink together to the straw and make it our loving bed. I am the aggressor, my head quickly between her legs. Unlike real life, I’m not shy at all. I just caress and lick her breasts for a moment before diving down her belly to her honey pot.”
“What do you think her nipples feel and taste like? You’re right about how cute they look.”
“Well, you know how they look like bubble gum? That unnaturally pink shade? I bet they taste just like it too. Nice and chewy texture too. But like I said, in my dream I just dallied there a moment. I was in a big rush to sample her moister parts. And they sure were moist. Tasty too.”
“She wanted you as much as you lusted for her?”
“Maybe it was just the circumstances. The parental pheromones and the equine lather.”
“Or your deep breathing and erect nipples. I bet she liked how you eat pussy. I know I did. You have a knack for diving deep into a pussy and licking each crevice and fold delicately, while remembering to nibble the clit just at the right moment.”
“In the dream, I’m buried nose first in Sarah’s cunny when you walk in to tell Sarah her Dad is ready to go. Seeing that my lips are clenched around her clit, her hips bucking up off the straw, you stand there and watch. Sarah stares back at you, as if daring you to touch yourself.”
“Do I touch myself then?”
“Yes, you start by touching your right tit, hefting it. Stroking your nipple. Sarah takes one hand out of my hair and mimics you. Soon, your fingers curl into your wet cunny, teasing your clit out of the hood.”
“Do I do more than just watch?”
“Yes. Sarah crooks a finger at you, signaling for you to approach. She then touches her lips with it. I am still unaware that you are there. Sarah teases you as you get near, licking her fingers and sucking her tiny thumb dramatically. You are literally dripping wet when you finally squat over her face and she pokes her tongue right up your slit as you reach over and rub my tits. This takes me totally by surprise, but I love the added pleasure of your hands. They are so gentle but firm.”
“I think I like touching you because it is almost exactly like touching myself, us being sisters and all.”
“But our tits are so different. Yours are big and soft. Mine are smaller, harder. Although our nipples are much the same,” Constance giggled again. “Have we got time for me to tell more?”
“Sure. If Dad comes in, he’ll think you were just calming my nerves. Which you are.”
“Once you settle in place on Sarah’s face, there is no daintiness, because we know our folks might arrive looking for us. The fantasy becomes all about frantic sex and passion. You rub your cunny across Sarah’s mouth, her teeth chattering across your clit, nibbling at your labia. I copy your movements and twist Sarah’s nipples as roughly as you pinch mine.”
“Oh God, Sis, you are such a talented dream weaver. I can almost feel Sarah wriggling between us as you describe it. The waves of her shuddering as she comes on your tongue must be like the rush I’m having now.”
Patience gave up all modesty and slipped two fingers into her moist cunt. The back of her hand brushed against Constance’s trimmed bush. Silently, Constance copied her older sister. Occasionally as they stroked, they would wrap their baby fingers together. For this moment, they were lost in time and space, sharing a private place.
Their reverie was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Are you girls ready? I have the horses harnessed to the carriage.”
The mention of horses, given the barn story Constance was telling, reduced the Happenstance sisters to convulsions of laughter.
“I’m just straightening Patience’s veil, Dad.” Constance called back.
“Well, good. One nice thing about a nude wedding – it is not supposed to take as long for the bride to get ready.” He called through the door. “Hurry up. I’ll go keep the horses calm, but we don’t want your Mom waiting.”
“No,” Patience whispered to Constance, burrowing her fingers into her own slit and stroking Constance at the same time, “that would make her even bitchier. So, is there more to the barn fable?”
Constance moaned as Patience bobbled her throbbing clit on a thumbnail. “Each time I conjure up the dream, it varies a bit, but the ending is always the same. We all come at once, and then crash in a pile laughing our heads off.”
“Like now?” asked Patience, feeling her own abdominals clenching as her knees weakened. Constance sighed, coming silently but fiercely, her pussy thrashing around Patience’s fist. The sisters shared a laugh at the intensity of their mutual lust.
“Except Sarah is missing now.”
“Well, let’s go get me married and get Sarah for you.”
“Oh, if only I can be so lucky,” said Constance, handing Patience her bouquet and opening the door.
When they stepped into the sunlight, their jaws dropped. The Happenstance Ranch was a leading grower of organic food, thanks to the rich soils of Paradise Valley, but most of the profits were reinvested and few frills were afforded. All the wagons were sensible farm vehicles. When Dad had suggested a carriage ride to the church, Patience assumed she would be aboard one of those utilitarian conveyances. Instead, she saw what Constance quickly labeled “a carriage fit for Cinderella.”
“I borrowed it from Mr. Milton,” their Dad explained, “did you know that Sarah shows carriage horses in county fairs all over the State? You’ll have to thank him later.”
“As long as it’s not how Mom thanks him,” Patience whispered to Constance.
“Maybe we can just thank Sarah instead,” teased Constance in return.
Patience swatted her sister’s fanny and replied. “I bet you would like to be her stable hand on her show tour.”
Constance could only moan her agreement, since her heart was in her throat. All the talk of Sarah was making the anticipation of arriving at the church interminably long. Sarah would be there, waiting quietly in a pew, looking angelic. Constance hoped though that the fertile atmosphere of the wedding might inspire Sarah to squirm slightly in her seat.
Patience felt like a princess as her father swept her inside the fancy coach. After Constance was aboard, he shut their door and climbed to the top to drive them to the church, wearing only a top hat.
The closed carriage allowed Constance to keep talking as they rode. “The barn dream actually is not even my fave version of a Sarah three way,” she said, trying to lessen her anxiety by talking about sex, never a good strategy.
“Tell me more.”
Constance intended to, but first she felt the urge to return the tenderness which Patience had exhibited earlier. Also, perhaps the intensity. She sat touching hips with her sister. As she spoke, she parted Patience’s thighs with a probing finger, invading the wetness within.
“Less often, I dream of you seducing Sarah. That makes me come faster and harder.”
“Where do you fit in?”
Constance now was bouncing Patience’s engorged clit with a finger tip. She could feel her sister’s pussy walls scrunching around her hand.
“Eventually, I fit in above Sarah’s mouth. At the key scene in the dream, you and I are kissing, with my cunny planted right on Sarah’s face. But in some versions it takes a long time to get there, and we haven’t got that much time. I can see the church steeple.”
“That always reminds me of a long cock.”
“Mmmm…like Peter’s.”
“You need to find one of your own.”
“Or one to share with Sarah?”
“Maybe she’ll have one handy today. Quickly, tell me more about how I seduce her.” Patience was speaking haltingly, her breathing slowed by her imminent orgasm. Her ambivalence to Sarah in reality was washed aside by the intensity of Constance’s images.
“The best scenes occur after school. Sometimes you are waiting for a ride and start chatting. Other times, you are both in the gym. In one version, you are both cheerleaders.”
“Well, I was Head Cheerleader.” Patience could never avoid giggling at that pun. The football team always teased the girls about that. Some of the earlier captains acted out the joke, but Patience had waited for Peter.”
“Sarah has never joined the squad though. Anyway, you start out talking about how much better cheering is nude than when you go on the road and have to wear uniforms. Sarah makes some lame joke about your ‘pom poms’, and you reply about how people seem to label you like a slut cause you have large tits. Sarah says she gets both guys and girls coming on to her because of her mouth .You share a laugh at how silly it is to attribute personality traits to people because of their appearance. Sarah comments that one of the reasons the Founders established Paradise Valley was to liberate people from such old ideas, but obviously they have not quite succeeded.”
“What a strange pick up scene.”
“Sarah makes a comment about gender stereotypes. You pick up on that and tell her you love being free to try new things. She wonders about Peter. You blush like you do – right down to your nipples. She can’t help staring. You notice her tongue cross her lips in that special sexy way. You tell her that you think she’s very sweet, and innocent. This compliment melts her. She grabs you for a hug. Then she can’t help but want to kiss your nipples. How do you like it so far?”
Constance didn’t really need to ask. Patience was writhing on her fingers, drawing them deeply inside, hips bucking off the seat as she came too passionately to speak. Unfortunately, Constance could not continue her story as the carriage slowed to a stop outside the Church of Perpetual Offerings, named by the Valley’s agrarian Elders as a harvest prayer. Constance took a moment to lower Patience’s long veil over her face and upper chest as their Dad opened the door. Patience asked her maid of honour why she was grinning. “The lace just grazes across the tips of your nipples,” whispered Constance, so Dad could not hear. “Every guy there will be wondering all day and half the night whether he only imagines that they are erect.”
“Well, when we were kids, didn’t we always call this “The Church of the Perpetual Orgasm”?” The sisters giggled together as they climbed the stairs. “I hope a lot of the ladies find their men particularly horny after they watch us today.”
“Imagine the effort they will have to make not to get erect in the Church. Casual nudity is one thing, but these bits of lace scream ‘sex’.”
They paused just long enough to calm their laughter. Constance walked the aisle first, her flowers held primly in front of her pussy. Thoughts of Sarah Milton danced like sugarplums in her head. Finally, she spotted Sarah on the left, almost in the rear of the church, sandwiched between Mr. Milton and the banker, Pennywhistle. As Sarah turned to watch the procession, Constance could swear Sarah gave her a wink, and there was no mistaking the way Sarah’s tongue licked her already moist pink lips. Sarah’s pert breasts shone porcelain white, tipped in pink, beneath a single low hanging strand of pearls. Sarah snuck a tiny wave in Constance’s direction, displaying white lace wrist length gloves. ‘I bet that’s all she’s wearing’ thought Sarah, grinning. She was apparently not the only nudist in her age group to discover the erotic effect of tiny scraps of fabric.
As Constance passed Sarah, she started pouting. Patience had thought Sarah had brought a date. It suddenly occurred to Constance that Pennywhistle might be Sarah’s beau. The banker, though older than Sarah’s Dad, was a horny coot who liked them young. Constance knew this first hand, as his had been the first hands on her after she turned eighteen. As revolting as that pawing had been, thoughts of that party brought a grin back to Constance’s face, as shortly after Patience had diverted the creepy financier, the sisters got to share Peter, and each other.
Lost in thought, Constance failed to notice the surprise which awaited Patience by the altar. There stood Peter, wearing only a top hat, like any Paradise Valley groom. Breaking with tradition, however, Peter had tied on a bright red ribbon. The location of the ribbon almost reduced Patience to tears of laughter. She was so overcome by her amusement that she barely made it down the aisle. Ever since last year’s National Nude Day Parade, the formerly prudish Peter had proudly paraded his perpetually provocative penis about Paradise Valley. Today, he had adorned his rigid pole with a ribbon. ‘What a perfect wedding gift,” Patience thought as she regained her composure. ‘I can hardly wait to unwrap it.’
The ceremony was brief. At the conclusion, Patience improvised, totally ignoring Paradise Valley decorum. After the usual chaste kiss between bride and groom, she fell to her knees and tugged the ribbon off of Peter’s proud young cock. It immediately jumped upright out of its semi erect slumber, parting her lips. Her plan to give it a tender little kiss evolved instantly into a deep throating blow job. Never before in Paradise Valley had a bride bathed the groom’s cock with her tongue in public view. Patience ignored the wide ranging reactions. The elders and other traditionalists gasped in shock. Most of the recent high school graduates of either gender had long fantasized about either having Patience’s tongue treating them, or swallowing Peter’s manhood. They strained forward in their seats, many of the women creating tiny puddles while Patience ran her tongue around Peter’s shaft, and then teased his pee slit open. Suddenly realizing that she had to get the events moving towards the reception, Patience expedited Peter’s orgasm by stimulating his prostate. His goo flooded into her mouth. Finally, she stood up, licked her lips and gave her new husband a passionate kiss before they paraded back up the aisle.
Because of the parade after to the farm for the reception, it made sense to fulfill certain bridal duties on the church stairs before departing. First was the traditional toss of the bouquet.
Patience stood on the high stairs of the church behind an iron railing, trying very hard not to be distracted by Peter’s hand fondling her hip, or his stiff cock pressing between the curves of her buttocks. Even the normally staid citizens of Paradise Valley, used to everyday nudity had to be awed by her display of cleavage as she bent slightly forward.
Constance joined all the other eligible women in a tight knot at street level. On the count of three, the bundled flowers soared upward then settled earthward. Several girls surged forward, tripping over their own heels as much as each other. Elbows bruised bare breasts. Forearms caressed curves. A few fingers no doubt grazed pubic hair. Paradise Valley was at risk of losing all its decorum as the more randy amongst the men became excited at the nubile womanhood jostling before them. One thing about the nakedness – no one was hiding their erections!
Two hands reached higher than the rest, striving mightily for the reward. Constance clutched an edge of the stems, gathering them into her fist. She rudely tossed a hip out against her competitor, only afterwards recognizing that she had bumped Sarah Milton. They both maintained their grips. Sarah had captured several flowers, and thorns bit into the soft white flesh of her hand. She and Constance turned in towards each other. Seeing Sarah bleeding, Constance forgot instantly about her jest for a trophy. Dropping the stems, she lifted Sarah’s hand gently to her face, and slowly licked at the oozing wounds, the crimson blood coating her lips. This movement drew the young women so close that their nipples touched. As they swayed, the nubs rubbed roughly together, the friction arousing the tender flesh.
The other girls who had contested the prize all faded away, leaving the two finalists framed in an open space, most of their community watching. Sarah and Constance seemed oblivious however. Like scientists, they slowly examined each other, visually at first, then slowly stroking down each other, beginning with slow caresses of a side, stopping on opposite hips. This produced matching smiles, dueling to outshine the sun.
“You won, you know, you’re the next Paradise Valley bride,” Constance informed Sarah, drawing a finger up her classmate’s tummy, stopping below her modest young breast, jiggling the mound slightly.
“But you won also, so you have to be the next bride. How can that be?” Sarah replied, copying Constance’s boldness. “Should we let the bride decide, or the groom?”
“Well, we could just marry each other.”
“Don’t you think we should date first, or kiss or something?”
“Yeah,” called Patience from above, “We want a kiss. We want a kiss.”
“But aren’t you with Pennywhistle?” Constance asked quietly, always too cautious.
“He wishes. But he’s old and stinks like fishes. Not sweet like you. Now shut up and kiss me.” Sarah closed her eyes and pursed her lips.
Constance complied, again forgetting the audience. She was amazed by the heat of Sarah’s lips meeting hers. Their tongues pressed past teeth, twisting together. Sarah moved more boldly, trailing her fingertips along Constance’s back, drawing her into an embrace. She then ran her arms down, cupping Constance’s ass, kneading her flesh, until tell tale wetness ran back across those thighs, dampening Sarah’s fingertips, confirming that they were both wet now. Breaking the kiss for air, she whispered, “I was soaked the moment you entered the church.”
As Sarah spoke, Constance slid a hand into the gap between their bodies and tweaked a pink nipple, making Sarah squirm, and retaliate by sticking a finger up Constance’s slit, and curling a second into her anus. “You slut,” the startled Constance blurted out, jumping out of Sarah’s embrace.
“Does that mean the wedding is off?” Sarah asked.
Patience saved the moment by replying for Constance. “Of course not, Constance prefers sluts. That means you can skip the dating and jump straight to the sex. But first, I need to toss the garter.”
Constance suddenly blushed scarlet from head to toe, realizing she had just revealed her Sapphic side to the entire town. Matters became worse as she stepped back, taking Sarah’s hand to make room for the bachelors gathering for the next segment of the festivities.
Prudence Happenstance chose that moment to erupt. “Straight to the sex indeed. What are the morals of this town coming to? If I wanted to raise harlots, I would have moved to Hollywood, where clothes are just costumes in the play of the devil. Constance, you should be ashamed of kissing that little hussy.”
Constance stunned the crowd by stepping forward and slapping her mother across the face. “You old hypocrite. Insulting the girl I love, while throwing yourself at the feet of her father, while you’re still married to Dad, just to borrow money. I guess we know who that makes the harlot, don’t we?”
She stammered slightly spitting out the next bit, but managed to add, “Just to show you how free I am, I think I’ll invite the man who grabs the garter to join Sarah and I, at least for the sex….”
“Oh, goody,” squealed Sarah, leaping for joy and clapping her hands.
“…and who knows, if the sex is good, we might test drive him for the honeymoon. After all, he will be the next lucky groom.”
“Lucky is right, getting both of you,” Peter added, not feeling left out, since he had busily rubbed his cock against Patience the whole time the crowd was distracted, and now was nicely nestled in her sloppy wet cunt. His only worry was how to get her garter off without his coated cock sliding out and waggling happily at the crowd. As he considered this, he felt Patience’s muscles contracting around him. Like Constance, he forgot momentarily how publicly displayed he was. His hands did what they had learned to do over the past year, responding to Patience’s pleasure by traveling up and cupping her breasts, and then quickly shifting to pluck her nipples away from her body, extending them until she gasped. Aroused beyond caution, Patience humped her hips back against his groin, driving his member deeper into her womb thrust by thrust.
Paradise Valley’s conventions were tumbling rapidly. As Peter pumped his throbbing meat into his bride, he used her ripe boobs as handgrips, rocking her faster. As she watched, Constance slipped an arm around Sarah’s waist. In response, Sarah slid her own fingers between Constance’s thighs. Not caring that her mother was distracted by more shocking events, Constance shifted her legs a bit further apart. Sarah’s finger popped naturally into Constance’s wetness. As they watched Peter and Patience publicly fucking, that one finger gradually twirled about, teasing Constance’s clit, and opening her slit wider. Sarah slowly inserted a second finger, beginning to stab into Constance with a fucking motion, while curling a small finger up, wrapping it around Constance’s clit and tweaking it.
Coincidentally, Patience chose this point at which to start furiously rubbing her own clit as Peter’s cock pulsed wildly inside her, signaling that his orgasm was imminent. She raced to catch up, disregarding the stares and gasps of her guests. Even her mother’s screams that Paradise Valley was turning into Sodom went unnoticed as Peter pulled her nipples, knowing from practice that this would ripple like electricity down her body, pulsing into her pussy until it spasmed around his cock, milking his seed out into a simultaneous orgasm.
“Maybe we are watching the impregnation of the bride,” Sarah said. “It ought to become a new Paradise Valley tradition.”
Several bystanders overheard, murmuring their agreement. “Well if that is going to happen for us, she better throw that garter soon,” Constance said, admiring the hard cocks bobbing excitedly in front of the young bachelors as they looked up at the fucking couple expectantly.
In the crowd, several men were stroking their cocks nonchalantly. Nipples stiffened all over, despite the mild weather. Women, both mature and lasses barely old enough, snuck fingers into pussies. Mostly their own, but a few fondled their neighbours.
Pennywhistle had taken advantage of the distraction created by Peter and Patience’s public fucking. He snuck close behind Sarah. On Christmas Eve, he had manhandled Constance, hoping to be the one to deflower her. Sarah held a deeper attraction. Still virginal, at least in appearance and manner. Slighter than Constance, and so youthfully exuberant. Plus, her Dad had money, the ultimate aphrodisiac to a banker. Just thinking of merging their wealth with his assets made his wimpy cock finally stiffen. As close as he was standing to Sarah, it poked her from behind, mischievously sliding between her cheeks like it had a mind of its own. The tip started to press through her tight anal ring. Pennywhistle glanced about, saw no one was watching, and started tilting forward, pressing his cock into Sarah.
Suddenly, Sarah spun around and slapped him across the cheek with all the force she could muster. He stumbled backwards, knocking a pair of standup fucking couples over like bowling pins. This broke the spell cast over the crowd by the spectacle of Peter and Patience consummating their marriage publicly. Dozens of cocks wilted instantly in wet pussies (and a few lubricated assholes). Blowjobs were discontinued in mid lick.
The only people who kept fucking in any fashion were the bride and groom. Peter and Patience were too far along to be paying any mind to Pennywhistle. Peter continued furiously pumping his cock into Patience, who was so excited, her groans became grunts. She rode a wave of ever building orgasms, her pussy walls milking Peter. Finally, a great wad of cum blasted out the tip of his cock, bursting against the top of her womb, filling her cavity and running done her thighs. Both bride and groom cried out as they came together that once again. This turned the crowd’s focus back to them.
Suddenly aware that all eyes were on her, Patience quickly aroused from her trance and returned to the moment. She straightened her veil, earlier pulled behind her ears to permit the “first kiss” in the church. This bought her enough time to realize that the only other thing she still wore was the garter, and this struck her as odd. She knew she had meant to throw it. Then Peter’s penis pulsed in her pussy, reminding her that she had been distracted. She twitched her hips so that the rapidly deflating cock wilted its way free of her.
Patience found herself wondering who could lick the cum off her thighs once this ritual was done. ‘Don’t be silly, now, girl’, she cautioned herself, ‘that’s Peter’s job.’ She sighed as she lifted her leg high on the railing. Monogamy was about to be a challenge, she could see, despite the fact that only once in the year gone by had she had sex with anyone other than Peter, and that had been sharing her sister with him. ‘Oh, well, I can always live vicariously through Constance. It looks like she’s turning into a real sex star.’ Patience observed her sibling swapping spit with Sarah, anticipating the treat of some eligible young man catching the garter, then, perhaps, accepting sex with both bouquet winners.
That thought focused Patience on the task at hand. She took Peter’s hands and placed them on her leg just above her knee. She whispered to him. “Since I’m now forsaking all others – except Reindeer games with Constance of course – you better lick me clean really fast. Let’s get this over with.”
Peter’s fingers quaked listening to his bride’s orders. He wondered why she just didn’t ask him to lick her pussy clean right here on the steps. ‘Oh. Well, I guess we can just do it at the reception,’ he decided, knowing Patience would never be patient enough to wait until the day was finished. He felt excitement pulsing through his veins. Warming him thoroughly. Ever since a year before, when he had marched in front of the Nude Day parade, Peter knew he was a rarity for Paradise Valley, where nudity was common place. He was an exhibitionist. He had just discovered further that he not only loved displaying his erections, he got extra thrills from performing sexually in public. As he reached the garter which Constance had pushed so high up Patience’s thigh, he noticed that the feeling of his and her ooze contacting his fingers was sending a shock wave through his nerves right to his twitching cock. The task of remaining faithful to Patience would be simple as long as Peter was permitted to flaunt his talents.
The crowd grew restless. Chants of “throw it” began collecting into a chorus. Peter eased the silk ribbon gently over Patience’s ivory thigh, playfully kissing in a theatrical fashion. Half the audience roared with laughter. The rest were impatient, especially the bachelors. Light jostling for position began as Peter twisted the garter over his bride’s knee. This delighted Sarah and Constance, who playfully murmured to each other as to their picks.
“I like Silas Brewster’s odds – he seems nimble.”
“I think you just fancy the looks of his candle stick.”
Sarah stuck her tongue out in reply. Constance goosed her friend, and future lover. Sarah sighed. “How did you know my bum is my favourite play thing?”
“Just lucky I guess. What do you think of Samuel Steadfast?”
“Sharp elbows, so he might win, but a skinny cock, so I hope he doesn’t.”
Sarah giggled at that, hugging Constance tightly, not caring who might watch as she explored her friend’s mouth with her hungry tongue. Once again their breasts mashed together. This time, they both felt the sparks flying across their nipples, running down to charge their pussies. Since Constance had pierced Sarah’s anal ring already, she felt comfortable returning the favour, cupping the petite gymnast’s taut cheek in one hand, pulling her crevice open, gently pressing a long finger gradually upward. Constance rotated her hips, grinding back against the pressure, feeling her juices flow, her labia pulsing open like baby fish craving nourishment.
“There’s always Jacob Allgood.”
Constance broke the clutch to take a moment to evaluate Sarah’s latest nominee. Young Jacob was a husky farm lad, broad shouldered. Constance’s eyes feasted at last on his penis. At rest during school, it seemed adequate. Now at least semi erect, it had swollen to the shape of a beer can. “Oh, yes, he looks fine,” she agreed.
The garter was now crossing Patience’s dainty ankle. In a minute, Peter would fling it into the pack of restless youths. Sarah had seized the moment to start fingering Constance, plucking her pussy wide open. Two fingers twirled around the excited maid of honour’s clit as the garter finally flew.
As with the bouquet, many arms stretched skyward, the less weighty garter bounced lightly off outstretched fingers. None grasped it firmly. Constance and Sarah twittered like doves, joking to each other about the butterfingered boys lacking the right touch. Peter amused himself running his fingers down Patience’s spine, playing her like a flute, causing her to arch her back, thrusting her fine melons out brazenly at the crowd. Finally, the garter was plucked out of the air just as it was in danger of dipping to Earth.
The winner was none of the youths vetted by Sarah and Constance. “Oliver Barrow,” gasped Sarah.
“The shoemaker’s son?” Constance was uncertain how to react. Even in a nudist community, shoes were often a practical necessity. For years, Barton Barrow had run a tiny shop in the town square meeting his friend’s needs. After all, Wal-Mart was not about to open in Paradise Valley. Oliver was a chubby lad, almost round, an indifferent student generally assumed to be destined to apprentice for his father. It would be a fine trade, but hardly the thrilling sort that attracted girlish fervour.
“Well, he does pack a healthy stout package,” Sarah said, as if examining Oliver’s groin for the first time.
“Hmm. He does belie the myth that fatties have tiny dicks all right. He looks like a nice mouthful. Should blow up to a very fuckable size.” Constance stopped herself just short of adding a comparison to Peter’s weapon.
The two brides-to-be reached forward, each grabbing one of Oliver’s hands. They looked at each other, and, at the same time, said, “Where shall we go?”
“Not my Dad’s shop,” begged Oliver, still stunned at his luck.
The women both looked at the bridal carriage, then at each other. They grinned. For the first two steps, they almost had to drag Oliver, who was still processing the situation. After that, the trio skipped across to the carriage, where the horses idly chewed a patch of wild flowers. Quickly, Sarah swung a door open, Oliver following close behind and Constance right after.
Oliver stumbled on the edge of the floorboard, landing softly on top of Sarah, who gasped as her breath was knocked out of her, but then sighed contentedly at the sensation of a manly body pressing hers against the seat. Oliver instinctively knew what he wanted, hauling himself up to suckle Sarah’s tender nipples. Nudity and sexuality were fine to separate in theory, but that would never be a teenage boy’s reality. An eighteen year old virgin like Oliver wasted no time. Still nibbling Sarah’s teats, he used a free hand to spread her thighs and without much ado plunged his erect cock into her waiting honey pot.
“Ouch,” Sarah gasped as her last token of virginity was surrendered. No maidenhead had she, knowing toys better than boys, but Oliver’s offering was indeed a fine fat one, and it stretched her young pussy better than any vegetable or dildo had before. She was grateful that Constance’s playfulness had prepared her well for this moment. Sarah’s gratitude made her wonder what Constance had gotten up to. Looking to see if perhaps Constance was licking Oliver’s balls, Sarah was shocked to see the bride and groom fucking across on the other side of the coach. Patience was bent over the seat, her ass in the air and Peter’s cock was pounding her vigourously.
“Hey, this is my coach,” Sarah protested.
“Not today,” grunted Patience, your Dad loaned it to us, for a quick getaway.”
“But you should be entertaining your guests.”
“I think we did that before we threw the garter.”
Sarah could find no retort for Patience’s logic, being preoccupied with the strange wonderful feelings of Oliver’s meat stretching her walls. Sarah enjoyed the sensation of her muscles finding a rhythm all their own, responding to Oliver’s thrusts without her having to think. Soon, her hips were lifting off her bench to meet Oliver’s heaving. Sarah found that she no longer was bothered by sharing this carriage, fucking in such proximity to another couple.
Constance had thought about licking Oliver’s balls, trying even to figure an angle from which she might lick Sarah’s clit and Oliver at the same time. Failing to achieve that, she pouted momentarily, anxious to sample Oliver’s rod. ‘No jealousy,’ she reminded herself. Looking at the bliss on the faces of all four people fucking in the carriage reassured her that she ought to relax and enjoy the experience. Noticing how Patience was enjoying the depths that Peter was reaching doggy style, Constance briefly considered slipping under her sister to sample that familiar clit. She quickly recalled the game plan was to share Sarah and Oliver.
Nudging Oliver slightly, Constance snuck under his arm and kissed Sarah deeply. They both enjoyed the tongue bathing, but Constance knew Sarah was too involved with Oliver to swap spit for long. Constance nibbled Sarah’s earlobe for a minute, then worked down to replace Oliver suckling Sarah’s tits. By now, Sarah was writhing so hard, Constance knew an orgasm was near. Oliver finally grunted loudly, pushing with all his might, shaking the carriage. Peter fell back out of Patience, his ooze spraying all over the five occupants. At that moment, Oliver stumbled backwards, his goo bursting out of the slit at the head of his cock, coating Sarah’s belly.
“Well, it’s not cheating if I just lick up Peter’s cum, is it?” asked Patience, her tongue gathering droplets off Oliver’s chest, working down to his thighs, her hair grazing against his already reinflated penis.
Peter, realizing his bride had not come, slid behind her, his nose buried between her round buttocks, his mouth sucking her labia from behind. Reaching forward, he tickled her clit, unsurprised to find Sarah’s finger there also. The two adventurers playfully wrestled around the pearl. Constance was preoccupied licking all of Oliver’s cum off of Sarah, starting from the bits furthest from her clit and working in, finally applying her lips to the target she had lusted for all day, and fantasized about for such a long time.
Oliver was enjoying Patience’s attention, but his balls grew heavy again. If he had followed the banter earlier, he understood he was here to fuck Constance next. The bride was not his. Constance’s rear was presented in front of him. In the way a stallion mounts a mare, Oliver grabbed her firm athletic hips and pulled her towards him, as he pushed forward. Rocking the carriage steadily, he rammed his steely cock deep into Constance’s wet cunt, driving hard and fast.
Constance redoubled her efforts on Sarah’s pussy, licking with rapid flicks of her tongue. She winced slightly at the pressure in her cunt, and was pleased when Patience brought her lips to stimulate Constance’s clit. Trying to mimic her sister, Constance slurped Sarah’s pearl deep into her mouth, and then nibbled it, gently at first, then harder. Oliver’s cock swelled, expanding her wider than Peter’s longer narrower cock ever did. The sisters each used their tongues to flick at the clit in their respective mouths. Sarah was able to moan, but Constance kept licking and sucking, feeling Sarah’s hips again rising from the seat, a new flood of juices oozing out of Sarah, coating Constance’s face. As Sarah collapsed on the bench, Constance concentrated on cleaning Oliver’s cream from the depths of Sarah’s cunt, until Sarah came yet again. Finally, Patience’s tonguing helped Constance to her own groin clenching orgasm, timed nicely so that her cunt closed and reopened like a fist around Oliver’s shaft, milking him to another orgasm. Patience collapsed last, her juices coating Peter and Sarah’s fingers as she was falling back onto Peter’s face.
The fivesome did not even have time to catch their breath before Miles Happenstance called from atop the coach, “Are you all done? It’s about time for the bride and groom to lead the National Nude Day Parade. Or is that brides and grooms?”