Loading...“Come on, Jennifer, give me some,” was the standard plea from my husband Duke.
Not that I minded making love with him, heck, we’d been together 8 years and had made love countless times in a variety of places. But this was Tiffany’s wedding day and we were late for the ceremony. I was dressed in my perfect outfit, with perfect hair and perfect make up. I looked good.
Duke had played golf in the morning, had a couple beers with the guys, and arrived home late. Only stern warnings me got him through the shower and dressed, and now he wanted a quickie.
“Give me some, baby, or maybe I won’t want to go,” threatened my gauche husband. Jeez, of all the nerve.
Fuck, if it gets him to the ceremony on time I guess that’s the ticket.
He told me to go to the couch and lift my long, flowing, Marc Jacobs’ knockoff gabardine dress, the one whose meticulous tailoring and sexy deep cowl back always brings excellent comments. I went to the couch, lowered my sheer light blue bikini panties down my legs…luckily I had the forethought to wear my panties outside rather than under my garter belt, otherwise this would have taken a while.
Duke pushed me over the couch and without a bit of foreplay rubbed his throbbing cock up and down my slit before plunging in and beginning to hump away. I was being used, but lately that was the norm with Duke. Oh, we’d make love like the old days from time to time, but more often than not it was a quickie before bed, before work, on right before he went out with the boys.
I though nothing of it, really. I mean, if he was fucking me before going out then he wouldn’t be shagging anyone else that night. And if he went out without having sex I made sure I gave him some when he got home to be sure he wasn’t sliding his dick in some young honey.
Duke pounded away at me, and I pushed his hands from my bodice. “Don’t mess the dress,” I scolded. “We’re gonna be late!”
The humping quickened as Duke got into his rhythm. He was predictable when he was in the midst of a quickie. Slowly screwing at first, then faster, then shooting him cum. Wham, bam, thank you mam. But at least we’d make it to the church on time.
“Oh baby I’m cumming,” said my husband to nobody in particular. I mean, I don’t think he really cared if I knew, other than the assault on my pussy was coming to an end. I felt his dick harden even more, if possible, and let loose of its hot sticky sauce. “Oh Jennifer you are the best,” said Duke as his rocking slowed and his cock shriveled. He pulled out and began to wipe it on my dress before I slapped his hand away.
“Don’t be a jerk,” I barked. “Let’s go.”
I pulled up my panties, lowered my dress, and started toward the front door. “Don’t forget to lock up.”
The drive to the small, quaint church was uneventful. Tiffany looked beautiful, the ceremony was short but covered the major parts, and each of the stars uttered their “I do” with authority. Then it was off to the reception, held at a nearby stone mansion which had several banquet rooms.
About 100 people gathered and made their way through the meet and greet and into the largest room. A band played antiseptic wedding music, not to dance but to be in the background as people met and exchanged pleasantries. Duke was his usual self, laughing a joking with those he knew and turning into a mute for anyone he didn’t.
Luckily for him several of his buddies were also in the crowd, so he at least had friendly faces to interact with. I spent some time with Tiffany, joked with several other friends, and learned more than I wanted to know about the families of a couple other women sitting at our table.
The boys went off to smoke cigars for a while, then returned. Duke and I danced a couple fast songs, the normal wedding ones, then he made a half-hearted attempt at a slow song before begging off with his friends.
They said they were talking sports, but they were probably mouthing off about their women. I remember at a similar setting a few months ago where I eves-dropped outside the door and heard Duke bragging how I can’t get enough of his cock. Apparently some guy’s wife didn’t give head, and Duke had to tell the world how I loved it. That I’d suck his cock at the drop of a dime, like I was his own little hooker or something.
It pissed me off knowing he was telling people about our sex life, but it was a little hot hearing him talk about me…until he started complaining about how loose my pussy was. The bastard. He gave me those two kids who loosened it!
Oh well, let the boys go play. I sat with friends, talking girl talk, watching the entire goings on around us. It’s funny watching people at a wedding…the old guys who are great at foxtrot and swing dances, the old women who attempt to get down and dirty to rap, the uncoordinated types to bang into people on the dance floor. Yes, people watching is fun at a wedding.
I noticed this older guy across the hall staring at me. Earlier he had been sitting with a woman, but now he was alone, sitting a drink. His eyes were glued to my legs…most likely because my dress had ridden up to mid-thigh. I smoothed it down, and he quickly looked away, but later I saw him staring again.
It became our little game, I’d move one way or another and show some leg, he’d stare until I turned toward him, at which time he’d be looking in another direction. I guess I was honored the 50ish man was looking at my 26-year-old body, but it was a little creepy.
Duke came back and sat down, planting a sloppy kiss on my lips before grabbing my ass. “Lesh go outside and get a p-p-p-iece,” he said, bringing a gasp from several of my friends. “Whhhhat?” he slurred at them. “Jennifffuurrr is always hot to trot.”
The man continued to embarrass me for several minutes before I led him off to the coffee bar, only to be shocked by his next comment. “I told the guys you would blow me in the back room and they could watch…how about it honey.”
I stared at the man in disbelief. I mean, he’d asked me to do some strange things, like the blowjob in the parking lot that was apparently witnessed by a couple passersby, or the screwing he gave me in the hotel room with the curtains open so that anyone going past could see us. But this was a little too much, because as he continued to cajole I realized he was serious.
“No way, Duke, no way,” I said, walking away.
“Bitch! You fuckin’ bitch.”
Unbelievable. Sometimes I wondered why I had married the bastard. There were too many times he was a rude, uncaring, embarrassing jerk. I almost went looking for a ride home, but thought a drink first might help. Striding back to the table, my friends looked away in embarrassment. “Forget it, ladies, he’s a jerk and I know it!”
That brought forth a laugh.
We got up and danced a bit with each other, that’s a girl thing that weddings always brings out the best of, before I tired and sat down. I was catching my breath when the guy who had been looking at me from across the hall appeared from nowhere right in front of me.
“Excuse me, but I see your boyfriend or husband has left you alone, and it would only be gentlemanly for me to get a parched girl like you a bit of libation,” said the balding man with a smile.
I wondered if he was for real. Who the heck was he?
“Come on, fair lady, I won’t bite. My name is Ralph, my wife is a friend of the bride’s mom, and I am heading for the bar anyway. What will you have?”
Why not? I asked him for a T&T on the rocks with a twist of lime, and soon he and the drink sat down, he on the chair next to me, the drink right in front of me.
He didn’t really know Tiffany all that well, but his wife, Mary, did. In fact, she knew Tiffany since she was a little girl. “I’d talk to her once in a while, we were together at family occasions and such, but I never had the opportunity to spend a great deal of time with her. She seems like a great girl and this is a wonderful wedding and reception.
Ralph owned his own small electronics business in a neighboring town, liked to play golf and surf the internet. He likes all kinds of music and was really into collecting sports memorabilia. How do I know? The man was a talker.
After a bit, though, he surprised me by asking me to dance, stating that if our spouses were to busy for us, we should at least enjoy the music.
We danced to the upbeat sounds of a Latino band, and then stayed on the dance floor for a slow love song. We weren’t dancing real close, but his leg did get between mine and I wondered if he could feel the mound of my moist pussy against his thigh. Ralph kept talking about the bride and groom but his thigh was telling a different story against my core, and I excitedly felt like a schoolgirl at a high school dance. His slight rubbing against me was simply heavenly.
Sitting out the next couple fast songs, we talked and talked about nothing in particular. We did speak about our spouses, how they had gone their own ways, leaving us behind.
Another slow song got us back on the dance floor, and we repeated our earlier grinding to the music, not enough to draw attention, but close enough so I could feel your hard cock against my pussy. It was so hot knowing the effect I had on you, and when you suggested a walk outside for some fresh air we grabbed our drinks and made our way to the door.
I suggested a walk through the gardens to the rear of the building. We passed several smokers inhaling dirty air and several couples holding hands or kissing. But our walk was that of a couple friends, side by side but not touching. We continued to talk about this or that, walking through the grey, moonlit night without a care in the world. It was a lot better outside than with the music pounding in our heads indoors, I thought.
We sat on a swing near the lake, rocking for a while, before you shocked me. “You are such an attractive girl, Jennifer, I couldn’t help staring at your earlier tonight,” said the man, who was old enough to be my father. “You look beautiful in that dress.”
I don’t know if it was the liquor or merely the mood, but I couldn’t help myself. I put my arms around the older man and planted a tentative kiss on his lips. That lasted several seconds before you began passionately kissing me back. You murmured something about wanting to kiss me from the first time you laid eyes on me, and I merely slipped my tongue back into your mouth.
Our tongues played with each others, touching each part of our mouths. We toyed with each other and without thinking I lowered my hand to your crotch. I felt your hard cock and began stroking it through your pants. “Is this for me?” I cooed. “I felt it earlier when we were dancing.”
“Um, that feels so wonderful Jennifer, don’t stop,” was your reply.
We pulled away from each other when we thought we heard someone coming, and soon you lifted me to my feet. “Let’s go for a walk,” you said, this time holding my hand. We went deeper into the grounds, eventually stumbling into a picnic area.
You held me in your arms and kissed me, the kiss of an experienced man. You might give the impression of an older, wiser, quiet man, but here you kissed like a movie star. You moved on hand down to my ass, caressing it, while the other held my head close to yours.
Looking you directly in the eyes, I smiled, shook my head as if I couldn’t believe I was saying it, and asked you to make love to me. Right there, right at that moment.
I swear I could see your glasses fog, but I think that was just the moonlight’s reflection.
“We’ll have to hurry,” you told me, advising that our spouses might be looking for us even now.
You gently pushed me back against the picnic table, and I watched as you lifted my dress. I thought your eyes would pop when you realized I was wearing a Victoria’s Secret garter belt and stockings, you slipped down my bikini panties and in the gentle light you said you loved my triangle patch of dark hair above my pussy.
Your fingers went right to my pussy, tentatively playing first with the outside lips then sliding their way inside.
“Oh, you are so wet Jennifer, so young and wet.”
All of a sudden you were down, licking my slit with your talented tongue, bringing a gasp of approval from deep in my stomach. You licked me for a minute as I began to shudder, before I asked you to fuck me.
You slipped down your pants and I lowered down onto my haunches. I couldn’t get my dress dirty, there would be no way to explain that, so I sort of held on and licked your cock.
It was so very big, not huge, but big and thick. It was throbbing as I sucked it, and I laughed to myself at how hard it was. “My wife never sucks it,” came the voice from above, as if reading my mind. “Stop or I’m going to cum.”
I didn’t care, really, but I did want him to fuck me. I needed his cock. And I didn’t know if he’d be able to fuck after cumming in my mouth. So I lifted myself up.
Ralph put his jacket on the picnic table, then lifted me on top of it. He kissed me again, and then pushed me back. As I lay on the table he stood and rubbed his cock up and down my slit.
His cock played with my pussy for a minute or two, sliding up and down, before you slowly entered me, sliding balls deep in one slow plunge. I wrapped my legs around you and you rocked inside of me, a slow, tantalizing rock. It felt marvelous, it was so naughty and hot, and I swear it wasn’t a minute before a small ripple swept through me.
Oh it was hot, your hard throbbing cock. We rocked some and you picked up the pace, and soon you told me you were going to cum.
“Should I pull out?”
“Nooo,” I moaned. I wanted you to shoot your seed and wanted to feel the hot sauce deep inside me. Dangerous or not, you looked safe, and I wanted to feel it.
You reached around and grabbed my ass then began your wicked, powerful thrusts. At that point we were totally one, joined in a lover’s embrace, pounding each other’s sex as if we had to break some kind of record. Soon you grunted and I felt your cock spurt deep against my cervix, filling my pouch with a blast of sperm cocktail.
We rocked a little after we came, then slowly you removed your dick. You reached down and pulled up my panties.
I couldn’t help myself, I slid off the table, back onto my haunches, and cleaned your spent cock with my tongue.
I licked top to bottom, side to side, and spent some time at the tip were some leftover cum made its way down my throat. Somehow your cock got hard again, and I sucked harder and begged for another load. I rolled your balls in my hand, told you I wanted more, and you said you’d give me “little swimmers” if I wanted them. It wasn’t easy, and I didn’t know if you could do it, but soon your cock was hard and you were jerking it into my mouth.
“Oh Jennifer, you are a cocksucker,” said the man with a bit of understatement, given I was sucking on his joystick at the time. My head was bobbing and he was rocking, all the time jerking his dick. Soon you reared back and announced you were cumming again, and my mouth was filled with sauce.
I held you as it felt as if you were going to fall, but that was merely a thought. You were fine, very fine. I continued to lick and suck your dick, making sure I drank down all the evidence. When you were fully clean I stood up and you put your cock back into your boxers and pulled up your pants.
Standing up, I kissed you and you didn’t pull away. My husband never kisses me after a blowjob, and when you didn’t react adversely I kissed you harder, exchanging spit and, well, cum.
It was strange walking back to the reception. We didn’t walk hand in hand, we didn’t want to be caught, so walking like we were we were merely two people out for a walk. Along the way you told me how great it felt, and I mentioned that the feeling was mutual.
“I can’t believe we just did that, Ralph. I’ve never done anything like that before,” I said as you replied it was your first time out of the matrimonial bed. “Your secret is safe if mine is,” he said.
It was. Heck, I can’t believe it happened.
We exchanged good nights, each kissing a finger and planting it on the other’s hand. I slipped in the back door, stopped at the ladies room to ensure I was decent, then went back to the table. I saw Ralph in the seat he was at a couple hours before, his matronly wife by his side.
Duke staggered into the room a minute later, asking me where I had been.
“Oh, here and there,” I told him, then stood up and planted a big cummy kiss on his lips. Looking over his shoulder I saw Ralph staring at me while his wife was looking the other way.
“Little swimmers!” I mouthed to the older man.
He smiled a knowing smile.