Two Weeks Before the Wedding

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32


On Christmas Day I was only really interested in Steve’s phone call. Luckily it came early, and I looked at my mobile through bleary eyes just after six.

“Wake up, sleepy head.” His soft, west country burr cut through my foggy brain and I smiled.

“I was asleep.”

“We’ve been up for hours here.” He said. He probably had- he was one of five children, two were still kids themselves and two had kids of their own. “Don’t you want to see what Santa has brought you?”

“Well,” I said sitting up in bed, “it’s not quite like that here. There are no kids. It’s just grown ups. Grown ups with a Jewish dad. It’s not very… C hristmassy.”

“Well, Miss Scrooge. I have a surprise for you.” Steve said. I absent mindedly gazed down at my engagement ring, which was on my right hand due to the secrecy of the arrangement, but had been tenderly placed on my left hand two nights ago by Steve. It was a gold band with a ruby in it, it had been his grandmothers and though it didn’t quite fit, I was besotted with it. “You’re outside right now and you’re coming up to bed with me?” I said, leaning back on the pillows. He laughed.

“I wish, Miss Minx. No. How do you fancy being Mrs. Minx on the 20th January?” I scowled. What?

“Sorry?” I said. I didn’t understand.

“I’m saying,” Steve said, “that me and you get married on January 20th.” I was speechless. Only a week ago Steve had been my housemate I had group sex and secret sex with, behind his girlfriends back, the girlfriend who, complicatedly I had also had sex with. Even more complicatedly, the three of us had often engaged in threesomes. And now he was suggesting we get married within the month.

“You must be kidding.” I said. Even on the other end of the phone line, I could hear he was crest fallen.

“I thought that was dead romantic.” And it was. But how could I get married? I was 21. We had only been together for a week. Until last week in fact, our whole arrangement had been friendship and house sharing incorporating a friends-with-benefits situation. It was a short, sharp road into a messy divorce.

“Oh Steve!” I exclaimed. “It is. It really is. But…. Really? I mean, it’s not….sensible is it?” He conceded that it was not.

“But January 20th is the soonest we could do it. We’re back in town on January 6th. We give notice to marry then and two weeks later that’s the date we could get married. I looked into it.” He sounded like he really meant this. I promised to think about it and he seemed satisfied that this was a good idea. In the meantime, we agreed I would go to Devon for new year to be with him, and that I would have an answer for him then.

Christmas came and went as it always did, and as well as it ever could with a Jewish father and an agnostic mother. My mind was elsewhere, but suffice to say, we did sing some carols and we did eat some mince pies and my dad kicked off about Hanukah once or twice, but soon calmed down when a Baileys was put in his hand. It was standard.

Greeting me at the station on new years eve, Steve was holding a sign that said, sweetly, ‘The Future Mrs. Phillips”. Clambering off of the train and onto the platform I laughed.

“You’re Mr. Determined, I see.” He kissed me deeply and took me in his arms.

“Just want to make you Mrs. Determined.” He wrapped me up in his arms, that were covered in thick winter coat. It was freezing and there was sleet in the air. “I told my mum and dad we were together now.” I rolled my eyes.

“I thought this was a secret?” I exclaimed, my tone very much telling him off.

“And it is back in London, back at uni. But here…. Here. You are mine.” I smiled. I hadn’t told my parents, but told my best friend Jenny, who said, without doubt, that I was insane. She had met Steve a lot and liked him, but as she put it ‘He tried to make me have a threeway with your two! He isn’t marriage material’. Despite this, I really thought this had changed everything. He was a new person, I could see that.

I was glad to see however, that he wasn’t so changed that the first thing on his mind wasn’t a damn good fucking.

“Absolutely everyone is away.” He said gleefully, behind the wheel of his mums car. The snow was coming down in buckets now, and we could barely see out of the windscreen as we drove along at 5mph. “They’ve all gone to my aunties in Newquay for a blow-out party. We were invited, but I thought you’d prefer….” He broke off. I did prefer. I squeezed his thigh.

“You thought right.” I grinned. He grinned back.

“So with that in mind, the house is all ours and I am all yours and I’m going to lock you in and make you my prisoner.” I liked this idea immensely.

Soon, although not as soon as either of us would have liked, we were behind the thick wooden front door, in the warm and shedding our layers. The house was beautiful.

“You never told me you were the child of rich parents.” I said, easing my coat off. Absent mindedly Steve came and started undoing the buttons on my dress. He kissed me and pushed me against the dining room wall. He groped my breasts.

“I’m not.” He said, between kisses. “They just brought in the boom years.” I could feel his erection against my thigh. He pulled canlı bahis off his own jumper and unbuckled his jeans. “Lay on the table.” He gestured to a vast, oak dining table.

“So keen today?” I teased, doing as he asked. He smiled and eased my tights and knickers off. He touched me. I was already ready.

“I can’t promise,” he said, pulling his hard penis from his jeans, “that this will last very long.” He kissed me long and deep. I groaned with desire. He opened me with his fingers and eased himself gently in. We both moaned at the perfect fit. “God.” He whispered. “God.” I just groaned in agreement. He thrust into me and opened my dress, exposing my bra-clad breasts. He pulled them free from the cups and sucked on a nipple. “I really do think you’ve got the perfect body,” he panted, “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you this past week,” he was still keeping up his rhythm, “every night,” he said breathlessly, “I’ve wanked myself raw thinking about your tight little cunt.” This tipped me over the edge and I felt myself starting to cum for him. I cried out and he silenced me with a kiss. “And every night, all I’ve wanted is to do be able to do this….” I felt his cock suddenly expand inside me and knew he was close. “All I’ve wanted, is to fill your with my hot, thick, aaaah.” And his face contorted, half with pain half with pleasure. We both collapsed on the table, panting and giggling. “Well, well, well, Miss,” he began, withdrawing from me, “I did warn you that that wouldn’t last very long.” I laughed, kissing his forehead as he pulled his trousers back up.

“I’m a very lucky lady. The second he gets a ring on her finger, he unleashes hell.” He laughed and kissed me back.

An hour later we were drinking champagne, in the big bath in his mum and dads en suite. Well, I say champagne, it was cava, but it was fizzy and we were in the bath and there were candles. It didn’t matter what we were drinking. He washed my back absent mindedly with a loofer while I got merry on wine. The water was warm and luxuriously full of bubbles and bath salt and whatever else he could find on his mums side of the bathroom. He kissed a trail of tiny kisses up my back and I shivered with pleasure. It was as intensely erotic an experience as I had ever had.

“So, Miss Scrooge,” He began, “Have you considered my offer?” The truth was, of course, that I hadn’t considered much else but. Jenny had agreed with me that if I did it I was looking at divorce before I was 25, but I couldn’t deny too that I wanted to do it. I wanted to marry this silly sod in two and a half weeks time. I wanted to be Mrs. Phillips and I wanted it now.

“Well….” I started. “It’s a stupid thing to do if we do it.” I turned around in the bath. “I’m not saying I don’t want to, but we will end up divorced. Divorced before I’m 25 and before you’re 30!” I said, echoing Jenny’s words in the pub a few nights before. He smiled wickedly and kissed my mouth.

“We would never get divorced.” He cupped my face in his hands. I had to fight his craziness.

“Half of all marriages end in divorce!” I exclaimed. He kissed me again, harder, more urgently.

“Not ours.” I tried to break away from the kiss, but now he was holding me to him. “It’s too right.” I yielded to the kiss. “We know each other. We’ve lived together for three years…” I interjected

“With your girlfriend!” He smiled.

“Details!” I giggled. “So as I was saying, we know each other, we’ve lived together, the sex is truly amazing…” I had to concede that point. “And we just… get on. We wouldn’t get divorced.” I wanted to believe what he was saying. “Just marry me. Be my wife. No one needs to know until graduation anyway, and then we’ll spring it on them… surprise!” I laughed out loud at that point. I wondered who would be most shocked out of all of our housemates.

“People will know something’s up when we suddenly stop having sex with everyone we meet.” I said.

“We’ll say we both developed a horrible sexually transmitted disease.” He stood up and stepped out of the bath, laying a white, fluffy towel on the carpeted bathroom floor and gestured for me to join him. He laid me on the towel. “We’ll say doctors orders, we both got syphilis!” I was really laughing now.

“You’re crazy. This will end in disaster.” He was on top of me now, kissing down my neck and shoulders.

“Can I take that as a yes?” He asked, nibbling my ear. What the hell.

“Go on then.” He squeezed my hand and hotly whispered in my ear

“The three little words every man longs to hear. ‘Go on then’.” We both giggled. “Can I do terrible things to you now?” He bit my neck.

“Go on then.” I replied. He groaned.

“Oh, you minx!” He kissed down my stomach and to my pussy, where he gently coaxed his tongue between the lips and into my hot little sex. He lapped at the clit and I pulled at his curly, brown hair. He eased three thick fingers inside me and I groaned out with pleasure. “Can madam take a fourth?” he enquired. I nodded in agreement and he slipped a fourth finger in. I felt myself dilating around his fingers and a peculiar pressure building inside me that was quite new but wonderful. He sucked at my sensitive nub and I bahis siteleri groaned. “Am I hurting you?”

“No, no…” I urged him on. “It’s just ….. new.” He smiled and moved his fingers around.

“I want to fist you.” He said. I hadn’t ever been fisted. “Come into the bedroom, my darling.” He withdrew his fingers gently and lead me into the bedroom. “How have you never done this?” He asked, switching on the bedside lamp. I laid down. He laid beside me and kissed me deeply on the mouth.

“I don’t know.” I admitted.

“You’ll love it.” He assured me, and I remembered the first time I had ever experienced anal sex and the way that Steve had been gentle and caring and made me enjoy it. I nodded. I trusted him. He rummaged in a drawer and pulled out a bottle of lube. He squeezed some onto his fingers and eased them into me. “You need to be nice and wet.” He kissed my neck. “If it hurts at all you tell me and I’ll stop straight away.” I knew he would. He pushed the three middle fingers of his right hand into me easily and I groaned. The pressure was back and it felt amazing. He left them there for a few moments and using the fingers of his other hand, he rubbed my clit until I was ready to cum. “If you cum now,” he whispered, “it will be easier to get the rest of my fingers in.” but I barely heard him, all I could feel was the approaching orgasm. It hit me like a bright light and I cried out.

“Oh Steve! Steve!” He continued frigging me and eased his little finger into me. “Oh God!” I said. “Fuck!” I could feel my convulsions around his fingers and feel the pressure building. He didn’t miss a beat, taking my hot, sensitive clit between his teeth and gently nibbling on it. One orgasm blended effortlessly into another and I felt as though I was floating. I could feel liquid seeping out of me and onto his fingers. I had never been so turned on and I never wanted him to stop. I said as much, breathlessly and hornily. He didn’t take his mouth away from my mound but hotly murmured that I was the sexiest woman he’d ever been near. As a third huge orgasm paralysed my limbs and made my heart beat out of my chest he pushed his thumb into me, his hand balled suddenly into a fist. I cried out, partly in pain, partly in agony and the pressure that had been in the background somehow became part of my orgasm, my whole vagina now dilated beyond its normal size, convulsing and spasming around Steve’s fist. I came for what felt like minutes, for what could have been minutes and hot, sticky liquid came from inside me, out and down his wrist and onto the bed.

When I had finally stopped cumming, Steve gently withdrew his fingers, one at a time and, with me still flat on my back, straddled me, kissing me all over my face.

“That was amazing.” I said. He kissed my lips.

“You’ve got the most beautiful pussy I’ve ever touched.” He breathed into my neck. I felt his cock, hard and urgent at my side.

“Let me suck you.” I said. “I want you to cum in my mouth.”

“I want to be inside you, though.” He said, still kissing me. “I love fucking you.” I moaned as he kissed my shoulder blades.

“Let me do something for you.” I said. He continued kissing me and firmly rolled me over.

“Get on top then.” He smiled, rolling onto his big, broad back. His cock stood, proud and thick against his stomach. I sat up and wanked it in my hand for a moment, savouring the hard softness of it in my fist. Balancing carefully, I straddled him and placed the head between my legs. We both groaned as I sank down onto him and began to ride his prick, slowly at first but picking up the pace. I placed one foot on the floor and Steve made a noise like he’d been punched. “Oh my God.” I felt him bottom out inside of me and I went for it in earnest, determined to make him cum quickly, urgently. As he edged ever closer, I too felt an orgasm approaching and gasped,

“Cum with me. Cum with me.” He grabbed my hips and rocked me back and forth. Just like that we came together, his cream filling me and my pussy gripping him.

So new year came and went and soon we were kissing goodbye at the station on January 3rd, planning to meet at Richmond Registry Office in three days time to put in our notice of marriage. It was madness, but brilliant madness. On new years day we had gone out and Steve had brought me a plain, gold wedding band to wear and one for him to wear after graduation. We had them engraved inside with the date he had proposed, 23.12.06, and already I couldn’t wait to wear it. He squeezed my bum as we kissed goodbye and I wiped away hot, sad tears at the thought of having to pretend we weren’t together, back in London.

“Don’t worry.” He assured me, wiping away my tears. “It’s not forever.” I sniffed. “My little wife.” I kissed him again, but I knew I had to go and catch my train.

“Love you.” I said. He squeezed me tightly.

“And I love you.” We parted at the ticket barrier and I cried all the way back to Oxford.

True to form, Steve was late. I looked at my watch and tutted. Our appointment was at two o’clock. I peered across the bridge and saw a figure running in the distance. He waved. I waved back. I stepped inside, just in case anyone we knew was passing. bahis şirketleri He quickly appeared and pecked me on the mouth.

“Sorry, sorry.” He said. I rolled my eyes. “I couldn’t find my birth certificate!” He exclaimed. “Or my passport!” I sniggered.

“Figures.” He scowled.

“Shut up, Miss Organisation.” I patted him on the bottom.

“Did you get your essay in for 20th century drama?” I asked. We were both doing joint honours degrees and had English in common.

“Alright,” he said, “walking ahead of me into the registry office, “we aren’t married yet!” I laughed.

“And never will be with this attitude, matey!” He smiled. I lowered my voice as we walked in. “You nervous?”

“Not at all.” He said boldly. Then he lowered his voice. “A little bit. Are you?” I squeezed his hand quickly, just in case anyone we knew was around.

“A bit. What if they say we’re not…. Qualified?” It was Steve’s turn to laugh.

“I don’t think there’s any qualification other than age.” He replied. “Come on, Mrs. Phillips to be.”

In fact the whole process was scarily easy. If the woman putting the details into her computer thought we were a bit young or a bit stupid, she didn’t say so. It was all done in fifteen minutes and walking out onto the street it felt alarmingly like we’d got away with something. Our wedding was set for Tuesday 20th January, we didn’t need any witnesses, they could do all that, and I needed a new dress.

“And one day, not long from now, we’ll do it properly.” Steve assured me, as we walked home across the bridge. “I’ll give you the wedding you deserve.” I smiled.

“Don’t worry about that.” I said. And I meant it. This was romantic. Okay, so I wouldn’t be in a big, fancy frock, but I didn’t care. We had a secret. And that secret was delicious.

We’d agreed to walk into the house together, as sneaking about in that respect was unnecessary and would likely arouse suspicion if we were suddenly and apparently never hanging out. If anyone asked, we’d say we’d come from uni. But we knew that no one would. Everyone was back today so I expected the house to be loud and chaotic, and wondered about Louise. How had she really felt about the break-up? Would she be okay or would she be ignoring Steve? It was literally impossible to call.

Walking up the path, I glanced at my engagement ring, on the wrong hand, and felt sad for a second. Steve must have caught my glance, because he squeezed my arm quickly.

“Whatever happens in there,” he nodded towards the house, “whatever we have to do or say in there,” and I knew he meant in regard to Louise, “it’s me and you babe. Me and you. I’m always thinking of you and I always want to be with you.” I nodded.

“Same.” I replied.

As it happened, we had been in the house for about twenty seconds when it all royally kicked off. Cathy, Louise, Danielle and James were all in the front room, and Giles and Olivia were in the kitchen. As soon as me and Steve walked into the house, which opened directly onto the living room, the air turned blue. Louise got up from the sofa and stomped up the stairs. I sat down awkwardly and Steve just stood up, being stared at by the three remaining members in the room.

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” Cathy yelled. Oh God. It was directed at Steve. “What are you fucking playing at? That girl is in BITS!” Steve was quiet and solemn, and spoke evenly.

“With all due respect, Catherine, I’m not sure this has anything to do with you.” I stared resolutely at my shoes.

“It does when we have to live with it, Stephen!” She exclaimed, the emphasis on his full name. I winced as Cathy stomped after Louise. Danielle and James looked as awkward as I felt.

“Who wants to go next?” Steve said, slumping miserably into a chair by the door. Giles and Olivia crept in.

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you were right to do it.” Giles said, almost in a whisper he was so quiet.

“Giles!” Olivia scolded. Giles looked at his girlfriend.

“No Liv. I do. They were always rowing. It’s for the best.” I nodded.

“I agree.” Steve didn’t even look at me. Danielle and James, the other couple in the house, mustered up the courage to speak. Danielle went first.

“You’ve got to do what you want.” I nodded and wondered if I should lay off the agreeing. James nodded too.

“We’re here for you mate. She’ll be alright.”

It didn’t seem that way though. As the afternoon drew into grey, January evening, Louise’s sobs could be heard from everywhere in the house. I was online, looking for a dress to wear at the wedding. My phone buzzed with a text. “Think I’m going to have to move out, babe. Xxx” it said. It was from Steve. I clicked reply: “she will be ok. Just early doors. Come to my room? Xxx” I waited for a few minutes, Louise’s sobs were louder than ever. I could hear Cathy’s Welsh accent comforting her in the bedroom two rooms along, on the floor below. “Too risky, babe. Even though that’s all I want to do. Xxx” I sighed. My room was right at the end of the house, on the top floor. Totally alone and free from risk. When they were together Steve and I had fucked in here whilst others were in. It was far less risky now for him to just come up and chat. “No funny business. Just talk. Xxx” I texted back. Within minutes he appeared silently at the door and came in, locking it behind him. I slapped shut the laptop so that he wouldn’t see the dress.

Ben Esra telefonda seni boşaltmamı ister misin?
Telefon Numaram: 00237 8000 92 32

Yer işareti koy Kalıcı Bağlantı.

Bir cevap yazın

E-posta hesabınız yayımlanmayacak.