Taking the bride for a spin – Part 2 [noncon][m30][f30][slowburn]

[Part 1](https://www.reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12qa9w6/taking_the_bride_for_a_spin_part_1/?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android_app&utm_name=androidcss&utm_term=1&utm_content=share_button)

I hovered over Sarah’s pale white body, which radiates in what little light snuck past the blackout curtains. Her legs open, our bodies pressed into each other like a snug puzzle. I pressed further into her groin, eliciting a moan. A small, quiet moan that hit my ears like thunder.

As I thought how to proceed, I knew I had two options. I could take her and use her body as I wanted. A rough fuckdoll meant only for my own pleasure. Ruining her wedding night, ruining her life with my cock. There’s a high chance of getting caught, surely she’d eventually protest and resist. Police may be involved. Evidence may be collected. But worst of all, she’d be seen as a victim. Turning my ultimate pleasure into a sob story for her own benefit. Cunt.

I started formulating option two. It was slow, romantic, and pleasurable – for both of us. There was a low – well, lower – chance of getting caught, as long as I could get out before Matt awoke. But I frowned at the thought of her pleasure. Her lack of emotional pain. A perfect end to her boring, middle-class white girl wedding.

But then an even more sinister thought entered my mind. She may enjoy it. In fact, I hoped she did. Because while being aware that someone was forcing themselves upon her may break her spirit, making her cum on her rapists cock would break her soul. The girl who saved herself for marriage, torn open not by Matt, but by me. Even if she never knew what happened, the satisfaction I would gain from this secret knowledge was worth 1000 lifetimes of pleasure. And her poor cuck of a husband. The thought of his confusion amused me. “I must have been really drunk,” he’d think, half correct in his thought.

The lengthy conversation in my head only took a few seconds in the real world. Option 2 it was. I was ready to feel her. To penetrate Matt’s bride. To force my ship into Sarah’s uncharted waters. To steal what she so delicately locked up all these years. To take what was rightfully mine.

“But first,” I thought to myself, “a souvenir.” The outcome of this newly devised plan, if successful, may be more evil than the act itself. This was prompted, I should note, by the short burst of rectangular light that I spotted on the bedside table. It was within reach, and I quickly grabbed what I hoped was Sarah’s phone. As evident by the PIN working – which must have remained unchanged for years – proved this to be true. At light speed, I opened the phone’s camera into night mode. I kept it pointed it away from my face to avoid spoiling my identity in the phones midnight glow – a risk for sure – but one that would be well worth it. I pressed record. The whole scheme was complete in under 10 seconds, and the camera disappeared into the darkness. Sitting on the bedside table, positioned at what I hoped would prove to be a worthwhile angle. If Sarah was confused or concerned, she didn’t show it. She may have thought I was just turning it off to focus on her. Either way, I didn’t care, as the camera, though unseen, recorded every inch of her smooth, untouched, perfect body.

My attention was now on my bride. Not Matt’s bride – but mine. I would say the feeling of our thighs rubbing together combined with the sinister thoughts running through my head caused my cock to stiffen, but if I’m being honest, I’ve been rock hard since the moment that hotel door closed.

As I stand between her legs, I put my hands on her hips. My index fingers catch the line of her panties on both sides. She was never a thong girl, and I appreciated that. I loved the innocence of panties. They fit her “god’s perfect little Christian” attitude perfectly. I gently start to pull down, but the big reveal is interrupted. Suddenly, I feel her hands on mine. Though inebriated, she’s still quite aware. I feel a slight tremble. I feel her anxiety. This is a big moment for her, after all. “Thank you,” I hear her say, softly but truthfully, “for being so patient. I know how hard it was to wait. But it’s all finally worth it. I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” I say back, masking my voice amongst the anonymous sound of a barely inaudible whisper. I feel terrible. This girl thinks she’s about to give her body – her soul – to her husband. I know this is wrong. I should stop. I should leave immediately and let true lovers reunite. I think all of these noble thoughts as I pull her panties down, slowly past her thighs, slip them past her feet, and let them fall unsympathetically to the ground.

I feel a slight but intense panic. I have no knowledge of their physical relationship. Any ground rules that they’ve established. If they’ve talked about how or where. This by itself could reveal me as an imposter, but then the scent of her perfect exposed pussy hits my nose and brings me back. As she lays on the edge of the bed, I kneel down beside her, between her legs. I use them to guide me, slowly kissing up each of her thighs. And finally, I reach the summit. I can feel the heat radiating. As I kiss around the edges of her sex, I can tell it’s already soaking wet. Ready for her new husband to please her in the ways she’s been fantasizing about since she was a teenager. This perfect, virgin pussy, saved just for Matt. And yet, it was my tongue that struck first. Claiming her most personal possession for myself.

My tongue glides across her clit, and Sarah’s body reacts as I had hoped. Moans, trembles, spasms – everything that accompanies the first time sex between two people in love. I waste no time in escalating. I use my tongue play with her clit, occasionally switching to full length licks. Though she has no point of comparison, the sounds coming from her mouth and the squirming that accompanies each swift movement shows how much she likes it.

“Oh my gosh,” she cries out. “How are you so good at this!?” I’m amused that even as she is getting tongue fucked nonconsensually by her not-husband, she refuses to use the lord’s name in vain. I suspect her question is rhetorical, but I up the intensity anyways to ensure she’s lost in her own pleasure. My hands pull firmly on her hips, using them as handles to pull her body deep onto my face. Her legs wrap around my head in comforting suffocation. I remove one of my hands, again use her thighs to guide me, and slowly enter her with my finger. She’s tight for sure, tighter than any woman I had ever been inside. My finger is drenched after a few shallow thrusts and I continue the dual action of gently rubbing her g-spot while suctioning her clit with my mouth.

From Sarah’s perspective, it was the perfect start to her first sexual experience. A few hours ago, she stood in front of her friends, family, and God to marry Matt. She celebrated with delicious food, a live band, and hours of dancing. And now, she had her legs wrapped around the love of her life as he made her feel as she had never felt before. She did it. She followed the rules, put in the hard work, and got exactly what she wanted. She didn’t know if her life could be any more perfect in this moment.

Sarah had her first orgasm, bucking wildly and cumming hard, on the tongue of the man pretending to be her husband.

(To be continued)

Source: reddit.com/r/Erotica/comments/12rgppq/taking_the_bride_for_a_spin_part_2