Chapter 01 – The Wedding (2004)
Ashly was just the kind of girl every man dreamt of, except for one thing: she loved sex. She drank it in like a fish in the ocean. She has more curves than the autobahn and makes supermodels look sickly. Her breast stick out too far, and her ass was made for power-fucking while on her back or on her hands and knees, something a man couldn't help but to bounce off every time he made contact with it or pumped down into her sweet, tight, closely shaved almost-bald-and-constantly-wet pussy.
Her life had been the adventures men read about in Letters to Penthouse and she was more obscene than the nastiest porn starlet around. Life, like sex, had few limits or taboos, and at her friends' wedding, she knew she'd make another adventure occur. Her escort, a tall, hulking gent named Dave, was cheerfully moving about with her in his rented tuxedo. His grey vest, tails and striped trousers reminded her of the
Ask Jeeves
logo from the internet. And he couldn't help staring at her ample curves wrapped up in a Grecian style gown, tapered at the waist, flowing to her feet in spiked heels, the slit on the leg showing creamy skin and a wonderful muscle tone from swimming and dancing. She alluded to having danced on a pole or stage, teasing Dave, making sure to grind gently against the handsome man when the bridal party was called out for the march into the center of the dance hall.
Dave had trouble not staring at Ashly. Her gown had dipped low in the back, showing off her spine as well as the curves, making her skin glow under the romantically dimmed lights. The dress cut low at the front, and her natural figure kept the breast high, the cleavage a noticeable item, her body swaying like maracas in a samba singers' hands. As they moved closer for the dance, spinning her gently into his arms, Dave whispered, "Ashly, you look great. But ... what are you wearing to keep your boobs so high?"
Ashly blushed, her coloration almost unnoticeable in the room, dancing close, keeping her arm around Dave and grinding gently against his belly, making his trousers tent gently with inner excitement.
"Actually", she purred, pressing herself as close as humanly possible on the dance floor, "I'm only wearing pasties. And those
barely
cover my nipples. The harder they get the more
likely every man
will see I am
braless
under this gown."
Still dancing, Dave gulped hard, gasping under his breath. Then Ashly moved tighter, hugging him and letting him feel the 38 double-D's barely contained in her gown. She whispered, "Oh, and I also forgot my panties too."
Stock-still, Dave stood, watching Ashly move and sway to the gentle beat of the music, and then turn, rolling into the crowd of other bridesmaid's, walking off for the toast with the bride and groom. Dave finally moved slowly, but after her, when his cock calmed down and he was able to move without poking anyone with his blunt spear. His eyes blurred, burning as he noticed her amazing figure encased and wiggling like a stripper on stage, shaking, and he wondered, whose attention was she trying to get?
A glass of champagne later, and Dave and Ashly were wiggling and moving to a disco beat, enjoying themselves immensely. He moved, spinning her, then bringing her back as often as possible, making sure she landed square against his body. And every time it happened, she groped his neck and arms, amazed at his biceps, purring softly, grinding her pelvis against his, and trying to encourage another hard-on. As the song ended, and the band announced a break, Dave took Ashly by the hand, walking them past the bar, and getting a red wine and beer for their thirst.
The DJ came on, and the kids poured onto the dance floor, wiggling and grinding, dancing and spinning like mad creatures. Many of the adults watched, giggled and even joined in with the pulsing madness of the wild unfettered motions, the gyrating and wanton, but (somehow still) innocent displays done by the teenagers.
As Dave sipped his beer, Ashly leaned close to him, whispering, "I'd love to suck your cock right now."
Her fingers danced along his leg, making him spit a little brew, and then gulp down the rest, trying to stay calm amid her arousing touch. Ever so calmly, she sipped her wine, watching the cavalcade of teens and others moving about badly, trying not to giggle at their dancing and his reaction. She whispered, "I love dancing Dave. Even when I was on-stage I loved dancing for a crowd, hearing their reactions, seeing them loving my movements."
"Ballet?"
She smiled. "No. Definitely not ballet."
The band came back, and Dave found himself, taking Ashly by the hand, creeping past the dance floor and down the hall of the convention center. Another turn down the halls and the music dimmed into the distance. Ashly hung on to his hand, feeling the strength, the urgency, admiring the fact he never asked her a thing; he just
took her
with him. No questions, no protest, just immediate flight, and possibly, gratification. Dave pulled a small padded envelope from his jacket, removed a feeler and tensor, and began working to open the lock of the small closet.
"Aren't those
burglar's tools
Dave?"
"Aren't you a
cock-tease
Ashly?"
Both smirked, and Ashly said, "Only when the lights are on."
The lock snapped open, and Dave tugged her into the darkness, saying, "Then don't bother touching the switch sexy."
A twist and Dave found Ashly pulling the door closed behind them, the lock snapping shut. She moved against him hungrily, kissing his mouth, reaching down, her hand squeezing his cock through his slacks, groping the growing hard-on and sliding her fingers along the length. She moaned, pressing her amazing tits on his chest, his hand moving back under the long dark hair, reaching into the snaps of the halter top, opening it, and releasing them to his mouth. His head dipped down, licking then biting one nipple, before switching with the other one. As his hand left the wet nipple, his fingers pinched the previous one, making it turn and twist gently in his grip. Ashly dug her nails into his neck, groaning loud, holding his head against her breast, feeling his tongue wrapping itself all over her beautiful breast, loving how the skin tasted on his mouth. With a practiced precision, her fingers unzipped the standing man, making him need to lean back against the shelves of cleaning products and excess materials. A few bottles shook and clattered down to the floor, but neither one cared. All that mattered was that passionate embrace and the pleasure they could gain from one another.
Dave felt his cock freed, her long fingers stroking the shaft from the underside, making him moan, releasing the nipple from between his teeth. Ashly loved having a man lose control, placing her in charge, making him putty in her hands. Pulling the slit to one side, she knelt down, kissing the tip, licking the precum off the cock head, making Dave moan again. His fingers stroked her head, running through her hair, moving her closer down the shaft. Ashly loved the feeling of a man trying to get her to choke, but this time, with his dickmeat, Dave may be one of the few to make her actually gag. She opened her hungry mouth, a small suction bond made on the length, keeping him inside her, the drool and saliva stroking and massaging the length of his dick again and again. She bobbed up and down quick and hard, moving fast, the balls on her chin, his base against her palm, trying to jack off and stimulate what she couldn't immediately suck down her throat. Slurping noisily in the small closet, Ashly tried getting Dave off in her mouth, making him her pet, his loss and the thrill of the somewhat dull wedding.
"Ohhhh", shivered Dave, his hips rolling to fuck her mouth as deep as possible. "You're a practiced cocksucker aren't you Miss Ashly? Former stripper, dick-sucker and all-around wanton
slut
. Your
pussy
runs the show doesn't it? And I'll bet it's gotten you into some tight fucks hasn't it, you wicked naughty girl?"
Ashly could only mouth a gurgled affirmative. She knew he'd figured her out, and he was pumping himself down her hungry throat as quickly as possible with each stroke of her wet tongue lapping the sides, slurping the saliva back, tasting his precum on her palette. She moaned, and with her free hand, began stroking her own pussy, rubbing the clitty in small, smooth circles. Ashly was in heaven: a man who knew her desires and had the cock to fuck her into a stupor, and the nastiest mind she could imagine next to her own.
Within moments he lifted her quickly by the arm. She was worried they'd been caught or he was going to give her the bum's rush after cumming, so she let her mouth linger on his length before it finally slid out with a
'pop'
sound as the wetness escaped her sealed lips. She stood up, her dress half off, the pasties on the floor, chewed up by his hungry mouth, her slick fingers still moving between the petals of her labia, fingering herself. In the sparse light, Dave could see her masturbating, his cock jumping without any contact, the scene erotic beyond all belief. She moved closer, then pulled the fingers from her wet hot cunt, and lifted them to her mouth. A steel grip caught her wrist, and she watched Dave pull the fingers away from her lips and into his starving mouth, licking the fingertips, sucking the nails, keeping her aroused and breathing faster, the double-D's bouncing against her ribcage as she watched him devour every drop of her sex sauce on his lapping tongue.
Quickly, he pulled her against him as she had on the dance floor. Dave kissed her hard, sucking her tongue into his mouth, licking her neck, plastered to her body. His hard-on fought to stay in his trousers, and Ashly kept trying to grope him, getting him a little more anxious with each bit of contact. A smile, and she noticed the glimmer in his eyes even in the graying of the room. "Hands on the wall bitch. You're not getting off
without getting me
off."
