[F]ucking the Best [M]an at my Daughter’s Wedding

**I’ve been having an upsurge in my sex life in recent months and I just wanted a place to put it out there, just as a way of reliving the moment. I’m not a professional writer, so this is more going to be a rambling confessional than a well put together piece. It’s also a bit long. Without further ado…**

Recently, I attended my daughter’s wedding. Despite the buzz and good sentiments all around, I have to confess I wasn’t exactly thrilled by her choice, if only because he reminded me a lot about my ex. But, that’s my own personal issue I suppose, not to mention its not something you can talk a headstrong young lady of 21 out of. If I was doing the choosing, I would have preferred she had tied the knot with Paul, who’s been a friend to both of them and has seen Liz (my daughter) through thick and thin, and even been there to provide a shoulder to cry on.

A bit on the tallish side, but not at the six foot mark I think, he’s a dark-haired, dark-eyed gentleman of an individual who’s probably in his early- to mid-twenties. He has the calm, intelligent features of someone who knows what he wants in life and where he wants to go, but I’ve really always been taken by the contrasting twinkle of mischief that always seems to tug at the edge of his eyes. I suppose what I really like the most, though, is that I can look at him and not be reminded of my ex-husband – and that’s not something I can say for a lot of men.

Anyway, with the vows and everything done, I can finally sit down and start to relax a bit, especially once all the congratulations and pleasantries have been exchanged and everyone had moved on. Probably seeing me sitting by myself, prompted Paul to come over and we had a few drinks and snacks whilst making small talk and making jokes about the newlyweds, though I was grateful when the conversation steered away from the wedding and marriage in general. I like to think he was reading the mood and that’s always been a plus in my books, as far as getting my attention is concerned, not to mention, he was among the few that volunteered to stay behind to help start the clean up process.

By that time, we had both had a bit to drink I think, so it doesn’t surprise me that some light flirting started up, though I am curious to know who threw the first stone. I hadn’t really engaged in it for a long time, so I was giggling like a schoolgirl. Finally I decided to send everyone home since I was starting to feel a little bloated from snacking one too many times and more than a little tired from all the drinking. Paul checked in to see if I would be fine, which made me aware of how close he was standing, at which I felt the first real pang of consideration.

I finally decided to shoo him off, telling him should go and see to his girlfriend, just to poke some fun at him, at which point he confessed he was currently single and no one was waiting for him. At that point, I suddenly felt really hot and stuffy, and I was almost certain I could feel the heavy thudding in my chest. Mustering my resolve, which was probably braced by alcohol, I put on my most convincing expression of mock-seriousness (or tried at any rate) and told him that he should then go home and take care of things himself, closing the door in his face and letting him take it for what he wanted. By myself at last, my self-restraint broke down and I was a giggling wreck as I went about trying to make a little more order out of the disorder that was currently my home.

Once I gave up, I headed for the shower to freshen up before I could head to bed. As I stepped out of my panties, I involuntarily breathed out an embarrassed “Oh god” as I actually saw the broad, slick patch in it. Stepping into the shower, I stood there for a while before finally willing myself cleaning up. I was hoping to collapse in bed and be asleep quickly, but unfortunately my intoxicated state had been dispelled. Just not the giddiness. It also didn’t help that with a clearer mind, I was actually recalling more of what had actually been happening between Paul and I for much of the late evening, which was now just leaving me aroused and annoyed.

Some time later and I still wasn’t sleeping, especially since I was realizing the immensity of the silence and that I had the whole house to myself for the first time in… well, ever really. Finally, after procrastinating, I finally told myself that I was in the privacy of my own home and the world could go fuck itself for that. After listlessly fingering pussy for a few minutes, I finally fished out my wand and decided I needed some serious work. No points for guessing who I was thinking of at that point. Honestly, I was feeling guilty and embarrassed, and yet so unrepentantly horny – I guess you could say reason was out of the window. I’ve always been able to admire Paul’s good looks without it being sexual, so it was really pissing me off this had all seemingly come out of nowhere and hit me with the impact of a goddamn freight train! I had never tried to picture him naked or that he might even have a cock, and now it was all I could really call to mind. Conflicted as I was, all I ended up doing was edging for god-knows how long. I told myself all I had to do was cum – and cum hard! – and I could put the matter to rest, go to sleep, and none would be wiser. I just couldn’t.

It was nearly 5 am when I reached for the phone and made the call, surprised by how quickly he picked up. I’m not a prude, and I’ve had a few flings since my divorce, but you can be sure as hell I’d never done anything like this – my lips felt dry and my voice unreliable – so much so that when I confessed that I couldn’t sleep it almost came out like a whisper. There was a moment of hesitation, during which I thought he might be thinking I was in a drunken stupor or something, but then he replied that he was pretty much the same. Another small stretch of silence before he asked me, a touch uncertainly, if I wanted to know why. I was really glad he couldn’t see the smile on my face at that point or I might have died of embarrassment (really minor now that I think about it, considering I was completely in the nude). I bit my lip and told him to tell me.

“I’m stroking my cock for you, Carol,” he breathed back unsteadily after few more moments. Hearing him use my name, rather than the usual Mrs. had my nipples stiffening as I squirmed silently on the bed; I closed my eyes as though a jury had just condemned me and the judge was passing my sentence. At the very least, I felt like the weight of the world was bearing down on me.

“Do you want to come over?” I asked, whilst telling myself I wasn’t thinking clearly and I should just hang up and apologize later.

“Now?” he asked. I would have loved to see what kind of look he had on his face.

“Now.” I hung up as soon as I finished the word. It seemed like my heart had started beating again, as I half wondered what I had done. Suddenly everything didn’t seem right. I had a fit of straightening the sheets, another shower to wash away the sweat from the past hour or two, moving things around and other things that were completely irrelevant. I’m old enough to know that when pussy is on offer, men usually don’t care where its at, but I was really having a hard time reconciling the fact that I had just called over one of Liz’s closest friends for sex – a buck, ostensibly, almost half my age.

Lights pulling up in the driveway send me into a half-panic. I’m still naked and I’m still not certain I’m ready. I figure I should grab my nightgown, but I don’t think I can look him in the face. Fuck. I mean that for a curse of frustration, but it also reminded me of what my entire body seems to be craving, and, for some reason, that thought helped put me in control of myself. Just a bit.

I hear the car door open and, as quickly and quietly as I can, I unlocked the front door and retreated back to bedroom. Honestly, it funny to think about it now: nothings coordinated, but Paul won’t know a thing about how messy it all was unless I tell him. Which I won’t.

The door bell rings. After the third time, my phone lights up as a text comes letting me know he’s here (as if I wasn’t aware!). Rolling onto my belly, I text him back, letting him know the front door is unlocked and that he can come in and find me. I’m not sure why, but now that he was there, I suddenly felt teasing him again. I try and compose my hair into a seductive mess and lie face down. I was telling myself I want to give him a good view when he comes in, but it was also really because I didn’t think I could meet his face at that moment in case my nerve broke. My heart is hammering as I hear a door open somewhere in the house. And then another.

The sound of the door to my room opening makes me jump, and I can feel goosebumps running down my back and legs. In the long silence, I’m left wondering if I shouldn’t have spread my legs open a little or if I should taken a more demure pose. I quickly forget about it as I feel the mattress depress near my feet. For a wild moment, I’m set to panic as I wonder if its really Paul.

“I’m here Carol.” Shivers run down me again as I listened to the firm tone of his voice, like some unspoken promise that he was here to take control. With less hesitation that I had earlier on, I roll on my side and watch as he starts taking his clothes off. I secretly felt kind of bad at the moment, because he easily has one of the best body I’ve seen in a man that I’ve met personally, and I felt kind of frumpy at that point. But I love the fact that there’s no disapproval or judgement in his eyes, and a few seconds later an infuriating sly smile is tugging at his lips and making me wet. His cock is already at half mast and is the first circumcised one I’d be intimately dealing with. I couldn’t restrain myself any longer and I just had to reach out and take a hold of it.

He got hard instantly, which kind of left me a little breathless as I started to stroke him. Watching the expression on his face was such a turn on, whilst the firm heat of his cock was just leaving me aching to having him climb onto me and press me into the sheets.

I tugged at him until he start moaning my name, at which point my hand and his shaft were both a slippery mess. Soon enough, he caught my wrist to stop me, and I figured he was probably near his limit. I scooted back and lay down on my back, tugging at him to get on top – at that point I was aching to be fucked. So it really came as a surprise when he got between my legs as intended and then went down on me. Well, embarrassed really, since I hadn’t thought to shave for the occasion. After I tried to subtly nudge him away, he took hold of my wrists with hand and held me prisoner whilst he went to town. I lost track of time.

My body was on fire and I was cuming like crazy. I couldn’t escape his hold, however much pulled and that just made it so much more intense. Sweat was stinging my eyes and running between my breasts by the time him he let go of me. I was a complete, horny mess, and I was completely ready for him. I sat up and took a hold of shaft and started pulling him towards me. Placing his swollen head against my opening, I fell back and pulled at him. His cock slipped and wedged itself between us. Fuck, I almost cried out in frustration, but we had a laugh and he quickly took hold and guided it back.

I couldn’t help but moan as I felt him push. I was so wet at the point there was almost no resistance, and the feeling of my walls stretching to accommodate his girth almost pushed me into cuming again. He gathered me in his arms and started to grind me. I pulled back my legs and cradled his head in the hollow of my neck as our bodies heaved; as far as I was concerned, my pussy was his and he could do whatever he wanted with it. Only a few moments after he stopped grinding and started ploughing me with deep, firm strokes, I came.

After so many orgasms from having my clit teased, cuming with his cock lodged inside me was so. fucking. satisfying. I had been on a dry spell for a few months, but this more than made up for it. We stopped for a little while, breathing deeply and catching our breaths.

Then, he planted his fists on both sides of me and started to pound me. Hard. Our hips were clapping heatedly with every thrust, and watching the hot, naked need on his face had me spreading legs wider.

“Carol,” he moaned my name suddenly, sending an electric thrill through me. “I’m gonna – fuck – I’m gonna cum.”

“What?” Okay, I was being a tease again. I heard him perfectly well, but I want to hear it rolling off his lips again. Most of my partners are usually fairly wordless.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he almost whimpered. God, I loved hearing those words. Up till then, I had just wanted him to cum, but at that moment, I wanted to make him blow his load.

I thought I’d a few more sexy words out of him, but I guess he reached his limits. We locked hips and I hissed as I watched him clench his eyes shut and start to pump his hot semen into me.

A knot of tension I didn’t know I had inside me seemed to dissolve and I felt as if my limbs didn’t have any more strength. I can honestly say it was the best sex I’d had in years.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/d09ox2/fucking_the_best_man_at_my_daughters_wedding