“Hi, yes, my name is Katherine Bennett — I have a 4:15 to see Jess.”
“Of course, Ms. Bennett. Right this way. Jess is just wrapping with another client. May I offer you anything? Tea, juice, a sparkling water?”
“Oh, nothing for me, thanks. Could you please let Jess know I’m in a bit of a rush? I’m meeting my fiancee in Marylebone, and need to be on my way if I’m to make it on time.”
“Certainly Ms Bennett, thank you so much for your patience, I’m certain she’ll just be along.”
“Thank you.”
I hate to be the posh demanding bridezilla — especially as a result of my own poor planning — but if they’ll accommodate me out of my own mistakes, I might as well take advantage. I’m certain Pippa would understand, even though she’s not about today. Hopefully no one says anything to her; I’d hate her to think me a bitch. She’s a sweetheart, and it really is a lovely shop.
“Kate! It’s so good to see you again. Ready for the final-final-final?”
Jess is my bridal consultant extraordinaire. Over the past 4 months, she’s tolerated my emotional spasms as I do my very best to select the most elegant wedding dress Chelsea has ever seen. Okay, okay, she’s helped me find a dress I love that makes my very large behind look lovely for the man of my dreams, and will be one of the more solidly mediocre dresses Chelsea has ever seen. But who can live up to their expectations?
Jess leads me back into the gallery where my dress is on a rack, waiting for my final approval. it’s a very simple, elegant satin dress, with a low, plunging neckline and shoulder straps that thin me out nicely. I look beautiful in it. I *feel* beautiful in it.
“Ok Kate, If you just wanna zip that off then, we can make sure those final changes to the bust and hem line are to your liking and you can be off! I’d not like to keep you any longer than I have to.”
“Thanks Jess. I’m sorry to rush you, it’s all my fault. Thank you so much for understanding.” I offer, trying my best to sound truly grateful.
“It’s no trouble at all. I’ll be back once you’re settled in.”
No matter how many times I do this, I can’t get used to it. Bridal galleries are big rooms — much larger than your average dressing room. Every time I strip to my unmentionables in here, I feel totally exposed.
The dress slides on easily enough, and seems to fit just as it should, though I’ll need Jess to zip me to be sure. Looks like the changes to the bust and straps worked just as I’d hoped! They cover my bra straps just as they should. I can’t believe I had a £30,000 dress altered to accommodate a £40 brassiere.
My fiancee, Rory, loves this bra and panty set. I wore it on our first date together. He didn’t find that out until later, of course, when I rode his lovely cock while wearing them in the back of his Land Rover on our fourth date — before we’d even gone out for the evening. We couldn’t keep our hands off each other the night prior, so we picked up right where we left off first thing.
I spent that evening with Rory and his mates at the pub, watching a football match with his cum running into these panties, and down my leg. He didn’t seem to mind later when he lifted my legs up over my head and buried his tongue in my cunt for the first time — even after my pussy had sat in a pool of his sticky load all night.
I knew then that I’d marry him.
Over time, I’ve come to know what Rory likes me to wear for him, and just how much he enjoys me in cute, sexy things. But we both still have a special place for that plain, lacey white bra and panties. What he doesn’t know is that I’ve bought a brand new set just for him to defile on our first night as husband and wife. It’s my little wedding present to him. And it only cost me forty quid.
I practically had to sneak them out of the house this morning to wear them here to make sure they fit, and the dress hides them appropriately. Had he seen me, he would’ve called off and had me properly fucked all morning long.
Standing here, in the dress I’ll wear to marry him, concealing the lingerie I’ll wear to fuck him, thinking about my husband properly shagging me has drenched my pussy.
I don’t think I’ll wash them before my wedding day.
—————
The tube at rush hour is a distinct hell that you cannot truly appreciate until you’ve experienced it first hand. By the time i’ve managed to get north to Marylebone and walk to the Prince Regent, it’s already half-six. I should have been here quite some time ago.
The PR is our favorite pub in this part of London, an over-the-top Victorian space with eclectic decor and a light atmosphere on the high street. They also make a killer gin & tonic. As much as I would love one of the cask ales on pour here, I need to ensure I’ll fit into that dress, so gin it is.
As I nestle into an overstuffed royal purple settee with my drink, my ass begins to vibrate. It’s Rory:
“hey babe. running late at work, tube will be shite. i’ve sent you some company until I arrive.”
Looks like I’m not the only one with punctuality issues tonight.
“Kk. Everything alright? Who’s coming?”
“yeah, everything is fine. just need to wrap up a couple of things and it’s taking longer than i expected. see you soon. love you.”
“You too”
Once my disappointment subsides, I find myself in a lovely conversation with an older gentleman and his wife and their friend about married life, and the virtues of cooking with proper lard. I almost completely forgot that i’m to be expecting someone, until I feel a strong hand cup my ass and squeeze tightly. Startled, I turn to find Ian standing next to me. As he leans in for a peck on the cheek, he utters
“‘ello, love. You look great.”
I’m wearing jeans, flats, and an off-the-shoulder drawstring peasant top. The straps of my new frilly things are showing. I guess I do look great.
I politely introduce him to the group I’ve been chatting with. We continue our idle banter until Ian excuses himself to order a drink at the bar, and I seize the table opening up in the corner near the window. After what seems like forever, Ian returns with a pint of lager and another gin & tonic for me.
This is, well, slightly awkward.
Ian is Rory’s co-worker, and his bi-sexual playmate. Rory and I both find cock to be very hot, and I told him some time ago that he could have a free pass to fool around with guys, so long as I got to hear about it. A few weeks ago I caught them at their first time having proper sex instead sneaking around car parks to jerk or suck each other off. We all had a great night together, but we didn’t do a lot of talking, so I still don’t really know anything about this boy. Except that he’s ginger (my favorite), and his cock is thick and magnificent. This boy made me cum in ways I never have before. Ways Rory never could.
“How’ve you been, then?” he asks, after gulping down a third of his pint.
“Busy. Wedding, and all. You know…” I reply. I need to focus on Rory; on us. I don’t want this guy getting the wrong idea.
“Yeah, Rory’s mentioned. Excited, eh?”
“Very. I can’t wait to be done. Once it’s all over, and I’m on a plane to a honeymoon where there are no flowers, no meals, no dresses, no headaches, you know? Just rest and relaxation.”
I laugh nervously, desperately trying to keep the conversation light. I have no idea what I’ll do if he tries to get more personal.
“And fucking.” he replies.
So much for that.
“Ha ha, yeah, I’m sure there will be some of that, too.”
More nervous laughter. I glance at my phone. Where the fuck is my fiancee?
“I’ve been meaning to thank you for handling things so well. Most birds would’ve lost the plot, but you were amazing, and a great shag to boot.”
Focus. Rory, us. I must be the color of the velvet chair I’m sitting in.
“I-I’m glad he’s found a nice cock to service… I mean a nice person with a fat cock… i…”
Fuck.
Ian laughs sheepishly “Heh, like my cock, then, Katie?”
Only Rory can call me that. Where the fuck is he? I fumble to text him that very question.
“You have a very nice cock, yes. I think Rory likes it very much.”
Rory, us.
“I think you liked it very much.” he proclaims. This wouldn’t be such an issue, except that he’s not wrong.
“I had a good time, yes. Pleasing Rory is something I really enjoy, so it was fun. Tell me again, what do you at work again?”
“Fucking you was better. Seemed to me you’re seriously underfucked, Katie. Rory even said as much… he thanked me many times for shagging you so well — while I fucked his throat until he swallowed my cum.”
I didn’t know what to say. He didn’t even seem to care that i was purposefully short and trying to change the subject. My cunt was soaked.
I quickly excused myself to the ladies room.
As with all of these old buildings that were never meant to be pubs, the facilities are upstairs, downstairs, outside, down the alley, behind the bar, in the barkeep’s pocket — never anywhere normal. The ladies room at the Prince Regent is no exception. It’s up the narrowest flight of winding stairs you’ve ever seen, and the only room to be found at the top of that landing. Unlike most of these old pub restrooms, it’s larger than a single water closet, more like a modern restroom with several stalls. I chose the last one, shut the door, and sat down to collect myself.
I didn’t even need to use the facilities, I just needed to get out of there and breathe.
Check my phone, no response from Rory. I texted again: “?”
I hear the door open and some chatty girls going in and out, prattling on and on about typical vapid bullshit.
I collect myself, breathe deeply, and stand up to leave. I love my fiancee. I would never cheat on him, even with a man I’ve already fucked with his blessing. What the hell was he thinking sending Ian here anyhow? It’s almost like he wanted this to happen.
Rory; us.
I open the stall to step out, and in an instant I’m spun around, grabbed tightly around my arms and midsection, and a hand is cupped over my mouth. I’m ushered back into the stall I just tried to leave.
“You’re going to do exactly as I say, and you’re not going to scream. Do you understand?”
I nod feverishly. The voice was Ian’s.
“I’m going to take my hand off your mouth, and you’re not going to scream. You’re going to turn around, drop to your knees, and suck my cock. Is that clear?”
I nod again.
“I want to hear it. Say ‘yes.’”
“Yes.”
My stomach fluttered, my knees buckled. I don’t think I’ve ever been so wet in my life.
—————
Ian took his hand off my mouth, spun me ‘round, pushed me up against the wall, and then down to my knees — hard. He held my arms tightly above my head with one of his massive hands. His grip was so intense that it kinda hurt. Before I could even whimper the slightest complaint, he had unbuttoned his jeans and shoved his cock right down my throat. He wasted no time driving the length of his shaft all the way down until my lips had reached the base of his dick.
He held it there for what seemed like ages, and then pulled out. I tried to catch my breath.
Ian filled my throat again, making me gag slightly.
He began to thrust, pushing my head to the wall and pinning it there with his powerful cock in my mouth, forcing it as far as he possibly could, over and over.
With my throat full of this boy’s gorgeous, thick cock, and my nose buried in the mound of short ginger hair at the base of his shaft, I can hardly breathe. I try to wrestle my hands away, which only steels his grip. He forces my hands back up against the wall where my head is already pinned by his cock.
“You want this.”
I do my best to shake my head “no” with a mouthful.
“Yes you do. You’re a lovely bride-to-be, but deep down, you’re a little slut who needs to be fucked hard, and told just what to do.”
Again, I shake my head “no”, but the truth is that he’s right. I do want this. I want it so badly that my pussy is drenched, and if I had a hand free, it would be pummeling my clit while he gags me with that dick.
“I’m going to fuck you, Kate. Hard. I’m going to fuck you like I fuck your soon-to-be-husband. I’m going to fill your womb with my seed, and your belly with a little ginger baby. I’m going to take your pussy from you, and you’re going to like it. I am going to use you for my pleasure, and when you’re done I’m going to leave you here dripping with cum.”
I start shaking my head “no” feverishly. Tears well in my eyes. Because I can’t breathe, because my wrists hurt, because he’s gagging me with that cock, because I’m being unfaithful to the man I love…
Because I’m enjoying it.
Because I want this rock hard dick inside me so badly I can’t stand it.
Ian yanks me off the floor and spins me around again, pushing me against the wall. I begin to protest and he claps a hand back over my mouth.
“Do you want this cock inside you?”
With his hand on my mouth, I can only manage to make some sort of unintelligible noise in response.
“What did you say?” he asks, removing his hand.
“Yes ” I offer meekly.
“Take off your jeans, bend over and put your hands on the wall. You’re not allowed to cum until I give you permission. Do you understand?”
“Yes”
I unbutton my jeans and drop them to my ankles. I feel Ian’s strong, rough hands pull aside my panties and slide the full length of his shaft into my cunt in a single, masterful stroke.
It’s all I have not to wail in pleasure.
His cock is sublime. It fills me completely with it’s massive size and incredible heat, and I *love* it.
Ian holds his dick deep inside me for a second, no doubt savoring the spasm of my pussy around it, and teasing me, building my anticipation. He grabs my waist just above my hips, and slowly withdraws the length of his shaft, and then slams it back into me.
Again. And again.
If I bite my lip any harder, I’m going to draw blood.
Again. And again.
I can already feel the tingle radiating from my cunt into my legs. There’s no way I’m going to hold back an orgasm. His cock simply feels too fucking good.
Again. And again. And again. And again.
With a final thrust, Ian pushes his cock all the way into me, and drives us both up against the wall. He pulls on my curls with one hand, and cups one of my tits with the other.
“Don’t you dare cum, Kate. Don’t you dare. if I so much as think you’re going to cum before I’ve given you permission, I’ll take this cock away from you.”
Holy shit. That sentence almost made me cum right there. He begins to pound me against the wall. Hard. Slamming into my ass with each thrust. Hitting just the right spot with the head of his amazing rod.
“I’m going to cum inside you, Katie. I’m going to fill your little cunt with so much hot, sticky cum that you’ll be with child.”
His grip tightens on my hair.
“Is that what you want?” he asks.
“Y-y-yes.” I managed to stammer out.
“Say please.”
Oh fuck. I’m going to cum. I can’t cum. Don’t cum. Don’t cum.
“P-p-p-please. Please. Please!”
He rhythm slows a bit and he’s as deep as he can go. I can tell from his breathing that he’s close. Jesus, I need him to tell me I can cum. I’m going to anyway. I can’t help it. I decide to ask permission.
Breathlessly, I ask: “May I please cum now? P-please?”
“No. When you feel my cock pumping you with cum, you may ask me again.”
Oh. My. God. I can’t hold it off anymore. I start to become light headed as the pressure wells up in my groin. He’s pounding me deeper than anyone ever has, and it feels unbelievable. I can’t stop. God I hope he doesn’t stop.
Again. And again. And again.
Just then, I feel it. He’s filling me up. Oh god, his cock is shooting into me.
“Please may I cum please?” I’m totally out of breath now.
He pulls my hair so that my ear is right next to his lips.
“Yes, pretty girl. You may.”
My knees buckle completely and I collapse, supported only by the wall I’m shoved against, Ian’s grip on my body, and his dick inside me. I have never, ever had such a powerful orgasm (that didn’t make me pass out). Both of my legs shake in spasm as I feel wave after wave of pleasure emanating from deep inside my pussy, while this lovely ginger boy pumps me full of cum.
After a time, I manage to collect myself, and support my own weight again. Ian withdraws the length of his manhood, and replaces my panties over my cunt. His cum is already leaking.
He gives me a kiss on the cheek.
“G’night, love. Sweet dreams.”
Before I manage to pull up my jeans, I become acutely aware of two things:
1. Ian is already gone.
2. My panties are utterly drenched in my own juices, and now full of Ian’s cum.
Oh fuck. My panties are full of cum. Another man’s cum. The panties that are sacred to Rory and I. That I bought specifically to wear as I walked down the aisle to marry him. The little white panties that I am now leaking ginger seed into.
As I begin to panic, my hip vibrates. It’s a text from Rory.
“Did he make you cum, baby? ;)”
—————
It’s a good thing my mobile doesn’t work on the tube. It forces me to collect my thoughts instead of rapid-firing angry texts at him.
What were you thinking?
You told your friend to essentially rape me?
You knew I would like it?
You knew I would cheat on you?
Why? Why would you do that to me? To us?
I was so pissed. Mostly at myself. I can’t believe I let that happen. I’m a bad person, a horrible girlfriend, and an even worse bride-to-be. Maybe he just asked him to keep me company, and was only kidding about making me cum? Maybe he didn’t know Ian would fuck me within an inch of my life? He hasn’t responded to any of my text messages, and I’m buried in silence for at least the next thirty minutes. Silently leaking sticky pleasure.
He better be home when I get there.
I was glad to find the lobby empty when I got there. Normally there’s someone here until eleven o’clock, and it’s only half ten. Just as well, I’m not in the mood for polite conversation.
When I get to the penthouse, the hall light fades on to welcome me home. The rest of the house is dark.
“Rory..?!”
No response.
I make my way to the bedroom so that I can strip out of my clothes and shower before he returns.
He’s just laying on the bed watching TV.
…!
“Hey baby, sorry I couldn’t make it, work was hell. John asked me to stick around and get a couple things sorted. How was your night?”
I didn’t know what to say. Should I tell him? Does he know already? Was he responsible? Even if I tell him, should I be honest about how fucking *good* it was to be fucked like a whore in the ladies room of one of our favorite pubs?
“Did he make your little pussy feel good, my love?”
He knew. He fucking *knew*.
“Did you do this? Did you ask him to do this?” I snapped back.
“Yeah. I saw the way you looked when he fucked you that day you caught us. You enjoy his dick. Maybe more than mine. I wanted to give you one last fling… one final transgression before we tied the knot.
“Was it good?”
I was furious and elated at the same time. I decided to give him a taste of his own medicine.
“Yes, it was.” I reply as I take off my top, leaving me in only my little white undies and lacy bra. The set I bought for our wedding day. New ones for that special day. Just for him. Except now they are soaked with cum. Both mine and Ian’s.
Rory noticed immediately. This outfit does something to him. He loves the bright, virginal white on my pale skin. The little pink bow between my tits, and just above my cunt. Wrapped up like a little present.
I’ve got a present for him.
He begins to get up, and I push him down on his back, and put his arms above his head. I can see his boxer-briefs stretch as his dick gets harder and harder.
I climb up on top of him, and scoot my self up to his face, kneeling over him on top of his arms, pinning them to the bed.
My cum-filled panties, covering my full pussy, are inches from his face.
“Yes, it was.” I repeat.
“It was the best sex I’ve ever had. He used me like his slut, and I took his cock like a good girl. Then he filled my pussy with his sticky load. And now you’re going to lick my dirty cunt. Do you understand?”
“Yes, darling.”
I lowered myself onto his face, and I felt a broad, flat stroke of his tongue up the fabric of my crotch, licking the sex from my pretty little panties. Then he did it again. And again.
“Do they taste good, Rory?”
“Mmm-hmm”
I’m probably not going to cum again, not after the night I’ve had, but I’m going to make this boy eat my dirty pussy until it’s clean for what he’s done. I pull my undies to the side and expose my leaking cunt, and his mouth was on it instantly, covering it completely. He sucked my whole cunt lightly while running his tongue from the entrance to my sex, up to my clit, and back again.
I could feel Ian’s cum running out of my pussy. Rory didn’t stop. He kept sucking, licking, probing. He began to fuck my hole with his tongue, each time it darts into me, a bit more of Ian’s cum leaking out.
God that feels good. Before I know it, I’m fucking his mouth. Bucking my hips like I’m riding a dick, except I’m riding his tongue.
“That’s right, good boy. Eat that hot, sticky, ginger load. Do you like eating cum from my pussy, darling? It felt so good to feel his huge cock fill me with that load. I came harder than I ever have in my life. Is that what you wanted, baby?”
“Mmm-hmm”
There’s so much cum, and Rory doesn’t seem to mind at all. He’s intently focused on my cunt, licking, sucking, darting as I slowly and rhythmically rock back-and-forth on his face.
I shift my knees off of his arms. The domination of making him eat me was hot, but it’s become uncomfortable and distracting.
As soon as his hands are free, I expected him to start to jerk his swollen gland. He doesn’t. Instead, he surprises me by removing my pretty little brassiere and cupping my tits. Pinching my gumdrop nipples. Occasionally sliding his hands down my body to my hips to pull me into his face even more, then back up to my tits. Each pinch jolting my clit even more than his tongue alone.
Fucking his face, I’m smothering him as much as Ian smothered me. Grinding on his tongue, making him eat his friend’s cum, I start to feel it. He is gonna make me cum.
“I’m going to cum in your mouth, Rory. Don’t stop. Don’t stop licking that dirty pussy. Don’t stop eating my dirty cunt. Yes… yes. Oh god, yes.”
He begins to hold one of my nipples tightly between his thumb and forefinger as he presses his tongue flatly against my clit, driving me closer and closer to orgasm.
I can still feel Ian leaking from me.
“Can you taste him, darling? Do you taste your friend inside your bride? Do you like it?”
I close my eyes and drift into orgasm. I clench down and begin to quicken my breath as I squeeze his head between my legs. It’s my second orgasm of the night, and the second time I was pushed over the edge by the thought of that ginger boy’s cum. This one is significantly less intense that the one I had earlier, but it relaxed me. Put me at ease. It wasn’t as powerful, but it still felt really, really good to cum on my fiancee’s tongue.
As my orgasm subsides, I notice that Rory’s cock is still rock hard. I climb down, and take my panties off. I tell him to remove his shorts, and then I drape my cum-soaked delicates over his rock hard member.
“Jerk.” I demand.
He wastes no time using my moist panties to rub the tip of his cock just the right way. I suck on a finger and begin to tease his asshole with it. In seconds he’s shooting cum high into the air with a long, loud moan.
I scrape some of his cum off of his tummy and lick it off of my fingers.
Then I give Rory a deep, cum-filled kiss.
“Good night, darling.”
—————
It’s been weeks since that night. We haven’t spoken about it since, and all seems well. Next Saturday, I’ll walk down the aisle and marry my soulmate. And when I do, I’ll be wearing those dirty panties.
With a ginger baby in my belly.
Source: reddit.com/r/eroticliterature/comments/6vvc66/mf_stalls