Wicked Wedding

by Sawyer Bennett

  My hand jerks against my cock, and I start stroking again.

  My breath catches in my chest as I watch Brynne masturbate. She slides down into the chair more, legs falling wide open, and she starts to move her hand faster inside her panties while the other plucks and twists at her nipple.

  “I wish my face was between your legs right now, Brynne,” I mutter as I roughly jerk myself off.

  Moaning, she pins her eyes on me through the camera. Her hand has pulled out a bit, which tells me she just has her fingers on her clit, mostly assuredly soaked with the juices she pulled out when she was fingering herself.

  My balls tighten as her hips start rotating to give herself more friction, my mouth watering as I remember her sweet taste.

  “I’m going to come,” she whispers, her hand now moving so fast it’s practically vibrating.

  As am I.

  Heat bubbles up from my balls, my abs crunch up tight, and I dig my heels into the mattress. With one last rough stroke, I let loose. Warm cum shoots over my stomach and chest as I let out a bark of relief, and then another quake of pleasure tears through me as Brynne also cries out, her hips shooting off the bottom of the chair as her hand goes perfectly still against her clit so she can be swept away by the rush of her orgasm.

  Her body shudders and another blast of pleasure overtakes me, and fuck if another load of semen doesn’t let loose on me. Christ, I’m not sure if that was an extended orgasm or I just came twice, but whatever it was, it feels fucking awesome.

  Brynne raises her head, slowly pulling her hand from between her legs. She pushes up from the chair, breasts still hanging out of her dress, one nipple still pebbled as she walks closer to the phone camera. Taking it from the shelf, she brings it in closer, so I can see only her face.

  “Thank you,” she murmurs.

  I feel strangely exposed still reclined back with my legs spread, my cock spent, and my stomach and chest covered in a huge load of my own jizz.

  “No, baby,” I say with a smile. “Thank you.”

  She blows me a kiss into the camera, then says, “Can we do that again sometime?”

  “Tonight,” I promise her.

  “Until tonight,” she says with a smile, then she disconnects the call and I’m staring at blank screen on my iPad.

  I stretch my legs out and lean my head against the headboard, contemplating this woman and how quickly my life has changed since meeting her two days before.

  I know the rest of this week is going to drag by until I can see her again.

  CHAPTER 8

  Brynne

  The knock on my front door causes my heart to pound, and I take a last look at myself in the mirror. I had wanted to greet Andrew naked, but I chickened out, opting for a sexy silk robe that hit at mid-thigh instead.

  I tighten the belt, more from nerves than anything else, and head out of my bedroom. Because I’m more excited than nervous to see him, I trot through the living room.

  When I throw the door open, I find him standing there in a pair of faded jeans, Vans, and a Metallica t-shirt.

  His eyes lighten to the most delicate of grays, and they move all over my body in appreciation. Andrew is someone who appreciates subtlety, so I’m thinking I made the right choice. I’m sexy and inviting without being whorish.

  “I’ve dreamed a lot about you this past week, but nothing is as good as seeing you in person,” he murmurs, stepping over my threshold without invitation and shutting the door behind him.

  Before he reaches me, I pull a piece of paper from my robe pocket—tri-folded—and hold it out in front of me. He sees it, grins, and reaches in the back pocket of his jeans. Andrew holds out a paper I know yields identical information to mine, but his is folded into quarters.

  Over the course of this past week in between FaceTime sex, and even longer conversations afterward on the phone, we’d gotten around to talking about the long term. While I don’t think either one us is in the space where we are thinking white picket fences, we both know we want to keep seeing each other.

  That means we want to continue our sexual exploration, and I’m the one who brought up the fact I am on birth control pills. It seemed natural to be so logical about this, given our medical and scientific backgrounds.

  Andrew suggested we take each other at face value regarding our health, but also said let’s do this right and get tested.

  So we did.

  I called in a favor with my OB/GYN. Since I treat her and her family for their dental needs, she tested me and expedited the results, but only after I told her about everything that happened at the wedding.

  Andrew called in a favor from a buddy in DC, as he has far more medical contacts than I do.

  We both shared the results with each other this week over the phone, but I think it’s hilarious that we both thought to show the papers to each other first thing.

  Or at least, sort of show them.

  Andrew flicks his to the side, and it goes sailing over the back of my couch. He then takes my test results from my hand and drops them to the floor, indicating to me that he trusts my word and the proof isn’t needed for him.

  I feel the same way.

  Then his arms are around me and his mouth is devouring mine. While video sex is great, nothing compares to the feel of his strong hands on my body or his tongue moving against mine. His smell is unique and delicious, and I get wet as my hands roam the muscled planes of his shoulders and arms.

  With a growl, Andrew tears my robe off and spins me so my back is to the wall that borders the entryway from the dining room. One of his hands fists in my hair, the other delves between my legs, which go shaky the minute he starts to slide his fingers through my wet folds.

  Groaning, I fumble with his belt buckle and finally get his zipper opened. Freeing his beautiful arousal, which has a large vein running down the underside, I moan, wanting to trace my tongue down it. I start to drop, but Andrew presses two fingers inside me and pushes upward, bringing me almost to my tiptoes.

  He twists his face to the side, rips his mouth off mine, and growls in my ear. “Arms around my shoulders, legs around my waist.”

  I don’t hesitate, making the leap while he still has his fingers lodged deep inside of me. They jam in deeper when my body slams against his, and I wrap my legs tight.

  My body takes over. To my surprise, I pull up on his shoulders and start to ride his hand. Grunting in appreciation, he drops his head to watch.

  I gasp as he twists his hand, then brings his thumb to press against my clit. Using his other arm to support me under my ass, he presses my back into the wall for more leverage.

  “Get yourself off, Brynne,” he murmurs as he watches me fuck his hand.

  I don’t need any encouragement. Sucking in my breath, I rotate my hips, concentrating on that thumb pressing the sensitive knot of nerves and the fullness of his fingers inside me.

  I gyrate, pump, and thrash in his arms. My vision goes dim, stars suddenly exploding as I orgasm with a sharp cry. My entire body convulses, and I’m vaguely aware both of Andrew’s hands are now at my ass holding me against the wall. When he dips his legs, my hand guides him to my entrance.

  The head of his thick cock breaches me an inch, and another ripple of pleasure takes hold of me. I groan and he surges upward, pushing past any resistance to lodge himself deeply inside of me.

  My arms lock tight around his shoulders. Andrew dips his body again, causing his cock to slide almost completely free, before he surges upward. He rams into me, pressing me into the wall and making it difficult to breathe.

  But who needs oxygen at this point?

  I’m filled with Andrew.

  He unleashes a torrent of powerful thrusts, his panting breaths in my ear. I drop a hand to his ass, wanting to press him deeper into me, loving how the muscles contract on each inward push.

  My belly tightens, a throbbing ache hits me dead center, and I explode again.

  “Andrew,” I yelp in surprise over the unexpectedly
quick second orgasm.

  Only grunting in response, he relentlessly pounds into me. The Will Rafuse painting on the wall beside my head rattles from the force.

  Andrew slams in and holds still, his fingers digging into my ass. His forehead drops onto my shoulder, and I feel his release rumble through his body into mine.

  “Brynne,” he breathes in a mixture of relief and exhaustion. His hips twitch and then punch toward me, another shudder running up his spine. “Fuck, that’s good.”

  “Yeah,” I whisper, bringing a hand to run through his short locks. “Really good.”

  He lifts his head and grins before glancing over his shoulder at my living room. Then he’s spinning us away from the wall. Before I know it, I’m dumped on the couch and he’s kneeling between my spread legs.

  Hands settling on my thighs, he gives a gentle squeeze before letting his gaze run down my body. It locks onto my pussy.

  To my utter shock, he dips his fingers inside of me. I groan as he goes knuckle deep, pauses, then curls them inward. He holds for another second before sliding them free, his fingers now dripping with his own semen mixed with my juices.

  There are no words that are even appropriate as I watch him smear it all over my inner thighs. He dips in, gets more, and rubs it onto my breasts, dragging his thumbs over my sensitive nipples. Despite two massive orgasms, I’m incredibly turned on again.

  My voice sounds like a frog as I croak. “What are you doing?”

  Jolting, he raises sheepish eyes to mine, his fingers going still on my breast. He gives a tiny shrug. “I don’t know. Just wanted to see me on you, not just in you.”

  My belly flutters with a sensation I’ve never felt before. Like I just became “his” in a way that I’ve never belonged to anyone.

  The thought of it isn’t off-putting in the slightest. In fact, I feel incredibly safe and secure for some weird reason.

  Andrew smiles at me, brings his hand back down between my legs and he dips his fingers back in again. This time, however, my entire body goes rigid with shock and pleasure as he grazes the tips of his wet fingers down past my pussy to my butt. The tip of one warm finger presses against my hole, and I lift my hips to give him better access.

  He chuckles, his smile turning into a wicked grin. “We’re going to play back here this weekend, okay?”

  My entire body flushes hot, both from desire and embarrassment. Andrew had dirty talked to me this past week about anal sex, and got very descriptive about the things he wanted to do to me. I admitted I had no experience with it, and he said he’d remedy that when he saw me next.

  Since then, I’ve been fantasizing about it, along with experiencing a healthy dose of fear. It’s not something I ever considered before because honestly, Jesse was sort of freakishly big.

  Big… but he had no idea what to do with it.

  He was the type of guy who thought just having a big dick would satisfy a woman, but I never once got off on his cock alone. I always needed my hand to help myself along. God knows, Jesse never tried to help me. In hindsight, I think he must have thought he owned every one of my orgasms when in truth, they all belonged to me.

  Jesse wasn’t overly long, but he was thick and wide. I could have never taken him back there.

  But Andrew maybe.

  He’s substantial in his own right, but perfectly proportioned length to width. He’s got a cock that women dream of having in them. Even better, he knows how to use it, along with every other weapon in his arsenal. Hands, fingers, teeth, words, and sounds. They all complement his dick skills.

  I snicker out loud over my internal musings.

  “What could possibly be funny after that amazing sex and with my finger against your most secret place?” Andrew’s eyes sparkle with playfulness.

  Swallowing, I give him a coy look. “I was just having really dirty internal thoughts about you.”

  “Oh,” he drawls with sincere interest as he moves his hand away from my ass, then drops his body down onto mine. “Tell me all about it.”

  “I will,” I assure him as I bring my hands to his face to pull him down for a kiss. “But let’s get a shower, then go out for some lunch first. I’m starving.”

  “Me too,” he says, but it’s in a way that doesn’t make me think he’s craving a cheeseburger.

  This is proved when he slides down my body, roughly pushing my legs apart. He uses his fingers to pry me apart, giving me a brief glance before he starts to descend.

  My hands shoot out, grab the sides of his head. “Wait.”

  “What?” he asks, slightly exasperated.

  “Let me get cleaned up first,” I say lamely, and I’m sure that killed the mood. “I mean… I’m all covered up and filled with—”

  Andrew cuts me off by dropping his mouth to my clit and sucking. I shriek from the warm contact, surprised I’m so overly sensitized.

  Lifting his gaze to mine, he murmurs. “That’s you and me together, and we taste fucking delicious.”

  My body trembles from the truth in his words. Through a dry and parched throat, I croak, “Then by all means.”

  “Thank you,” he says smartly with a wink, then proceeds to bring me to another shattering orgasm that totally wrecks me and yet makes me feel more whole than I have ever been in my life.

  ♦

  Andrew’s body collapses onto mine, and he huffs out, “Okay. I’m done. I don’t have anything left in the tank.”

  I glance at the clock to see it’s almost midnight, but I get where he’s coming from. Outside of a short trip out to lunch, he and I have pretty much been in bed all day and through the night. We made a trip to the fridge, demolishing the leftovers from lunch—carne asada tacos and Spanish rice—before we tumbled right back into bed.

  Almost twelve hours of touching, tasting, fucking, and talking. I’m exhausted, and I know I’ll sleep deeply tonight.

  “Want to take a warm bath?” Andrew asks sleepily as he shifts off me only to gather me close in his arms.

  Snuggling deep into him, I murmur, “No, I’m good.”

  “Sore?”

  “A little,” I admit, but that won’t stop me from letting him back into my body whenever he wants.

  “I’ll give your cunt a break tomorrow,” he promises darkly. “It will be all about your ass and my mouth tomorrow.”

  “God, Andrew,” I murmur through a haze of lust and awe. “You say all these dirty things to me, and it makes me want to bark like a dog or something.”

  He laughs, and it rumbles through his chest into me. His arms gather me in closer and his lips go to my head where they feather a kiss. “You’re adorable when you doubt your own sexuality.”

  “What do you mean?” I ask, not daring to pull my head back to see his eyes. I want him to be utterly truthful with me.

  “You are a deeply sexual woman, Brynne. If anyone led you to believe otherwise, they were very wrong and completely masochistic to ever let you believe that.”

  “And yet my fiancé could only get his rocks off by having a threesome with my best friend and his best friend,” I say bitterly, but then immediately regret my words. I rip myself out of Andrew’s embrace, come to my knees at his side, and gaze down at him. He lifts his head, raising a brow at me curiously as I put my hands on his chest. “I’m sorry. I should have never brought that up. It’s in the past, and I don’t want you to think I’m mired in anger or sadness about it.”

  My hands become engulfed in his, and he brings them to his mouth to kiss the tips of my fingers. “You can tell me about your frustrations anytime, sweet Brynne. Yes, we’re fucking, but I care about you. You have a safe place with me—to talk or whatever. We are more than just sex, okay?”

  Letting out a gush of air, I say, “No. I really am okay with the wedding being called off and all that. I guess I just can’t wrap my head around the level of his debauchery. I mean… what do people get out of threesomes? Sex is so intimate it should only be shared between two people who care about each other. The
thought of inviting another person into this bed with you makes me sick to my stomach.”

  Andrew’s jaw tightens, and I bet he’d like to ring Jesse’s neck right now for being the cause of this discussion between us. He pulls me down to him, presses my cheek against his chest, and holds me.

  “I would imagine,” he finally tells me softly, “that what Jesse and Tara did was only about feeling good sexually, and it had nothing to do with true intimacy.”

  “So what you’re saying is that people who do things like threesomes aren’t really intimate with each other? They don’t care for each other. It’s more animalistic and about release?”

  I don’t get a response right away, but his hand rubbing my lower back is soothing so I wait.

  His voice is a little flat when he says, “I know there are some people who exist just fine in three-way relationships. But I would think there would have to be some serious trust and care going on to make it work for the long term.”

  Taken aback, I can feel my face scrunch in disbelief. “Well, I couldn’t do it. I’d never share you with anyone.”

  “Trust me, Brynne,” he says, and the flatness in his voice is gone. “I wouldn’t ever share you with either a man or a woman.”

  And without thought to my past and the way I’d been brokenhearted by two other men, I believe him when he says that.

  CHAPTER 9

  Andrew

  Brynne shrieks as I straddle her, drumming my fingertips across her ribs. She’s so freaking ticklish, and her laugh is contagious.

  “Admit it,” I order, grabbing one wrist and using the other to attack her ribs again.

  “Stop,” she cries out, thrashing her head back and forth and bucking against my weight. Tears are leaking out of her eyes as she laughs and snorts. “I’ll admit it. I swear I’ll admit it.”

  “Good girl,” I praise, taking both wrists now and pressing them into the mattress above her head. I hover over her while she collects herself, my inner thighs tight against her hips and my spent cock resting against her belly. “Now admit it.”