The Paul & Jenny Stories Pt. 15m: Another June Wedding Part 13
(Copyright 2001 by Paul. All rights reserved).
All events and characters are fictitious.
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Somerset 1972.
Jenny Wagstaffe.
We left the Marquee in the walled garden at Paul's grandfather's cottage at seven o'clock. We walked hand in hand across the lawns and up the terraces to the French windows with Millie, Paul's dog, bounding around our legs. Saying thank you to our guests and receiving their congratulations in return.
Paul had made his speech at the wedding breakfast after Steve and my father had made theirs. I liked the last part best of all.
"And to those who wish to know why I choose to get married I can tell you." He'd said. He'd looked down at me and I'd held his hand. "It's because I love her."
He sat down, put his arm around my waist and kissed me on the lips. I'd wished we'd been alone at that moment.
We were now.
We climbed up the stairs to his bedroom. I led the way. I could imagine him watching my ass cheeks as they moved beneath my wedding dress. He didn't need to. It was my intention that he saw an awful lot of them that night.
As he closed the door to his bedroom I turned to face him and with my arms around his neck, pulled his mouth down to my own. Our lips touched then opened. I could feel the tip of his tongue against my teeth and gums and touched it with my own. We fenced for a second then I pulled my tongue back drawing his further inside my mouth.
His hands were roaming over my back reaching down to my ass cheeks. There was far too much material for him to feel them properly. I broke our kiss and looked him in the eye.
"We had best get dressed ready to leave." I could feel his prick, hard against my belly.
I ran my fingers down his cheek.
"You know your mother." I continued. "She'll have the stop watch out knowing to the second how long it should take us to get ready."
"You're right." He agreed with a sigh. "It's just that I haven't seen you alone for days."
"You'll see a lot of me tonight." I kissed his chin. "I promise you that."
I turned my back towards him.
"Here." I said over my shoulder. "Unzip me please."
I didn't appreciate how constricting the bodice of my wedding dress had been until he slowly pulled down the zip. I could breathe.
He picked up my dress after I'd stepped out of it and hung it on it on a hanger from his wardrobe as I pulled my slip over my head and undid the heavy under-wired bra I'd had to wear. I rubbed my breasts to restore the circulation.
Paul stood in front of me watching. He rubbed his prick through his trousers.
"You have to get changed as well." I told him.
It must prove that a man loves you if he can see you in your tights and still want you.
I peeled off my garter from my left thigh and dropped it into my small suitcase that held my overnight things and a change of clothing for the morning. That night we were going to the best hotel in Taunton. We would then be driving up to London and staying overnight in the flat and catching the plane to Malaga on Monday afternoon.
I peeled off my tights and stood there in only my panties. Should I give him the full view? Better not. He'd want to have me here and now and I wouldn't put up too much of a struggle.
Oh no. He was moving closer. He'd taken off his jacket and waistcoat. He was wearing braces on his trousers. He slipped the straps off his shoulders as he walked towards me. His fingers were at the fastenings of his trouser top. He was undoing it, unzipping himself. I could feel myself getting wet. Not moist, wet.
We did have time for a quick one if he really wanted it. I knew I did.
He kissed my cheek and walked past me to where his clothes were hanging over the back of the chair by his small desk. He stepped out of his dress trousers and threw them onto the bed, his shirt followed. He was wearing white 'Y fronts'. He was picking up his checked shirt and putting it on.
I wasn't having that.