The Maid of Honor MILF [pt. 1/2] [MF] [long/descriptive] [Cheating] [public]

A few years ago I flew to Iowa for one of my best friend’s weddings. I was an usher and therefore in the wedding party. There were about 10-14 of us split evenly m/f and the group had a 3 day itinerary leading up to the wedding day.

It’s no secret that every single groomsman or bridesmaid are always scheming which of each other they might need to have a wedding tryst with. But, half of the bridesmaids were already married and the others just weren’t getting my blood flowing – except for the Maid of Honor (MoH). She was the bride’s 39 year old sister, making her much older than the rest of us in our mid-twenties and not really as interested in our revelry as much as she was bridezilla-ing her sister’s wedding. In fact, in the three days leading up to the wedding she was scrambling around being so perfectionist about arbitrary things that she hadn’t really even spoken to many of us. I’d already written her off because I found her so grumpy that I’d kept around the good wedding vibes.

On the day of the wedding, the wedding party all left the hotel in a luxury bus/van where we began drinking at 10am. The night before I’d made fun of the MoH’s elevating intensity to the groom, predicting she’d hit max MoH-bridezilla status come morning. She got on the bus and hadn’t said a word yet, as predicted, exuded max tensity voltage.

However, she was also at maximum sex appeal in her form fitting dark blue silky Maid of Honor dress. Keep in mind that I was 25 and her 39, but she wasn’t just ‘sexy for a 39 y/o’ sexy; She was ‘sexy for any age’ sexy. 5’10”, 1/2 Mexican 1/2 Caucasion, bronzed complexion, fit and tone, with huge natural perked pillowy boobs that were pushed up and bursting out of her cleavage line. The dress’ form was just barely loose enough to not be considered tacky at a wedding, but certainly proved her to have an equally popping ass to aspire to.

She looked somewhat upset and I had just finished my first mimosa. I decided I’d try and cheer her up and poured two glasses when I went for a refill. She was annoyedly texting someone when I walked over to her. We literally hadn’t spoken since three days earlier during obligatory name exchanges.

“Here, you’re empty handed. Whoever you’re texting isn’t allowing you mimosas before your sister’s wedding and that’s not fair.”

“I’m not sure it’s a good idea. When we get to the park for photos I have to…”

I cut her…
“We’ve all got stuff to do but it’s immoral to not drink free mimosas on a wedding day. I don’t make the rules… (yadda yadda)”

She gave a still stressed but acquiescing smile. We toasted and she sipped on it as she returned to whatever was annoying her on her iphone. I don’t think she had more than that one glass. The rest of us definitely did while she kept her distance still.

The only things of note that came from the ceremony later, are that she has a daughter (the flowergirl) and a husband who couldn’t attend (asked a friend about daddy upon flowergirl revelation). That meant she was ‘hands off.’ After all, I was only a year older than her sister, so I’d need to work some expert charm in even if she was available and I’m not actually a pickup expert despite the smooth move earlier.

I am ~~a~~ THE wedding machine; the life of the dancefloor; the charmer of elderly tablesitters; the peer pressure to let your 16y/o have a beer; and basically the person you invite to ensure your wedding will involve joy. I fuckin’ love weddings, and because of this tomfoolery I didn’t even see her at the reception.

After the reception, though, the wedding party was scheduled for a party bus to go rage downtown. Once the reception started wrapping up, we all started rendezvousing to do go when a girl I’d been dancing with was asking if she could come on the bus with me. OUT OF NOWHERE, Maid of Honor swoops in, taps my shoulder, and says she needs my help with a box and pulls me aside.

She went right for it… “Hey, I’d planned to go back (to bride’s mother’s house) and put (flower girl) down, but if I’m going downtown I need to give (flower girl) to her grandma ASAP. I’m not going, though, unless I have a date and a bed to sleep in.”

I was shocked, wondering about sister/bride approval… “I’d love to be your date we just have to think abou…”

She cuts in… “That means I’m sharing your bed and you don’t have hotel roommates tonight.”

Me still worried about repercussions of this in front of the wedding guest network… “So your sister and everyone aren’t stupid and I don’t want to get you in trouble. We can be discreet about it.”

Her with zero remaining Maid of Honor bridezilla fucks to give… “I don’t want to be discreet. Nobody going on the bus knows my husband (who she didn’t know I knew existed) well here except my sister. She’d never tell because she’s “one” my sister and “two” pissed he skipped coming today as I have been all week. You were so charming this morning and tried to cheer me up. I want more; so much more that it’ll be worth any amount of trouble I get in.”

It was ON from there. We were among the stragglers to walk over to the black-lighted disco-ball-twinkling bass-thumping party bus (standing room only at this point with poles etc to hold onto). I had followed in behind her and it was so cramped we had to be close – which became an excuse for us to get as close as possible and right up against one another. Her hands grabbed back at each of my pockets and pulled me hard against her ass. It felt even better than it looked: toned but with plenty a perky handful to grasp in each hand later. For now each mound was perked up and pressed squarely on my crotch. She felt my cock wedged up in-between them and began grinding as hard as she could back onto me – CRAMMING it more firmly in her ass’ gap.

As I looked around and caught her sister’s eye (they non-traditionally didn’t do a sendoff and came with us) and despite my fears gave me a thumbs up. MoH saw her sister’s approval and (without breaking the motion of her grinding through our clothes into my now-at-capacity erection) yells over the sound system to her,
“his penis is bigger than (absent husband’s) – I can feel it on me and I think a divorce would be worth it.”

I was the most horny I think I’d ever been in that moment – not everyday you get to hear a compliment with that kind of debauchery. And that sentence also erased any moral questions I was asking myself – the fact that it was so fucked up just meant I needed it.

Everyone left the bus when we got to the bars. But we stayed, and everyone saw us start making out primally as they left. Even the bus driver left and closed the door. We needed to pound it out and could have cared less about anything else but cumming on and in each other.

We were groping each other filthy-like and skipped any semblance of foreplay; I threw my pants down around my ankles and sat back into the bench that surrounded the bus facing inward. She positioned to sit back onto my exposed upright dick. I folded her dress up around her waist. Her ass was genuinely the best I’ve ever seen. I reached to pull her thong aside, which was already soaked along with her pussy and inner thighs. I gave her pussy a hard slippery rubbing before she backed closer to my lap, gripped the base of my cock with her hand and folded herself open with my tip.

It was shockingly tight, and right as I was going to tell her to take it slow she dropped down hard and took it all. She whimpered and quivered staying firmly down around me for a while; she loved it but it hurt and wanted to get the stretching over with.

Then she went insane on it. Grinding all around in every direction – getting prodded deep from every angle. Her grip was unreal, and she ground out two orgasms by the time it stretched enough to stop hurting me. But once it did, I took over and flipped her flat face down on the bench seat and got up in her hard with her ass clapping and cushioning the blows. I needed to cum, and started to pull out (condoms weren’t a thought). She wanted me to cum in her and did almost immediately. I stayed pressed in her while she rubbed herself until she squirted all over us (my first squirter).

We caught our breath and opted against going into the bar with the party at all, and went strait back to the hotel to rehydrate and get back at it.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/6ukhae/the_maid_of_honor_milf_pt_12_mf_longdescriptive