It was at my wedding reception that one of my strangest fantasies came true. I had just married my high school sweetheart. We were both eighteen. We had been together for four years, and never in that time had we gone all the way. It wasn't that I didn't want to, it was that we never had much of an opportunity. Both of our parents watched us like hawks. The only times we had ever gotten close were when Jeff's dad drove us places. We could sit in the back of the van, and Jeff's dad was oblivious to what we did as long as we remained clothed. Actually, I had often wondered what would have happened if we had taken off our clothes. He might not have even noticed then.
Except I had a funny feeling sometimes that he was watching us. Just last month, a few days before graduation, he gave us a ride since neither of our parents trusted us enough to go to school by ourselves. It was a little ridiculous since we were both seniors, but that didn't matter. We would be graduates soon, and we could fuck our brains out as soon as we got married. That day, I was wearing a short skirt with a button-down shirt. I scooted into the backseat next to Jeff, who put his arm around me. Since it took about twenty minutes to get to school, we had plenty of time to snuggle. Jeff almost immediately started kissing me, deep kisses that left me breathless. Jeff's dad made some kind of smart alecky comment about keeping the slurping sounds below one decibel. Jeff released my mouth to laugh, but he simultaneously started unbuttoning my shirt. I looked nervously into the rearview mirror to see if his dad was watching. He wasn't. Jeff started pinching my nipples through the thin fabric of my bra, and I arched my back. Jeff put his mouth next to my ear and whispered, "God, I've been waiting to squeeze these tits ever since you left last night." A flutter of pleasure went through me as he lowered his head to bite at the stiffening nipples. Even through the fabric, it felt amazing. He unsnapped the front clasp and paused a moment to stare at my exposed tits. I thought I felt more than one pair of eyes ogling me, and I looked at the rearview mirror. Jeff's dad was looking away, but I thought I had caught a glimpse of his eyes darting to the side just as I looked. The idea of him watching me made my knees go weak. I watched the mirror from the corner of my eyes as I slowly shook my tits for Jeff. I swear I saw his dad look.
Jeff, oblivious to my experiments, pulled me onto his lap so that I was facing the front of the van. My legs were spread on either side. Jeff's dad was conscientiously watching the road as Jeff thrust his hand up my skirt and plowed two fingers into my cunt. I stifled a gasp of pleasure and surprise; usually Jeff engages in more teasing before he gets to the satisfaction. And I realized with a blush that if Jeff's dad looked in the mirror, he would see not only my softly bouncing tits but also his son finger-fucking me. The idea made me moan softly, and I purposely hiked my skirt up farther so Jeff's dad could have the full view if he looked. Jeff whispered for me to shh as he pounded his fingers even harder into me. When the moan came, through my lidded eyes I distinctly saw Jeff's dad look. He didn't look long, but he definitely looked. I came in shuddering waves, humping Jeff's fingers so vigorously that I hoped the back of the van wasn't shaking.
A month later, at my reception, I found myself dancing with Jeff's dad. It was a little awkward. He was the object of my fantasy, and it was difficult to do anything as mundane as dance with him. I liked to think of him as an idea, not a reality. We had been dancing for just a few minutes, making small talk, when he leaned down and murmured, "You have amazing tits." His hand was on my shoulder, and he dipped his thumb down unobtrusively to graze the exposed flesh inside the scoop-neck shirt I was wearing.
I swallowed. "Excuse me?" I asked. My breathing was becoming ragged with the insistent stroking of his thumb, but I attempted to muster some semblance of indignation.
He smiled and pressed his other hand against my lower back, nestling my stomach against his hardening cock. "I've been looking at them for the past four years. Sometimes I dream about squeezing them around my cock and fucking them."
I tried to look shocked, but I felt my hips betray my growing arousal as they involuntarily bucked once against him. "I don't know what you mean," I said breathily.
"Right, the innocent virgin." He smirked. "That was no innocent virgin in the back of my van. You wanted my son to fuck you right there where anyone could see. And you know what else? You especially wanted him to do it where I could see."
My face was on fire. "Why do you think that?"
"I watched you look at me. Then you shook your tits while you looked. I saw you spread your legs for me. You didn't have on any panties, either, and I bet that was for me, too. I can't wait to fuck that sweet virgin cunt you flashed me." I was mortified. Mortified and on the verge of cumming. His hands were inside my shirt now, squeezing my tits rhythmically. I shook myself. "Oh God, someone's going to see..."
"No they're not," he said. I looked around. He had maneuvered us into the bride's dressing room. "But even if they did, you would like it more." He abruptly released my tits, and I stood gasping for air.
"I can't do this," I said.
He pushed two fingers inside my skirt and stopped just short of ramming them into my saturated pussy. "Well well," he commented, "you don't have any panties on today, either. Some people might think that makes you a little eager."
My body answered for me as I impaled myself on his fingers. I bucked against the rigid fullness of them, gasping and moaning more loudly than I had ever been able to do in the back of his van. He was crooning things to me that made me buck harder against his immobile hand. "Yeah, you can do this, honey. Fuck my hand. Show me how much you want it. I want to feel that tight little cunt clamping on my fingers." My breath came in ragged pants. I looked up into his face and saw the heat there, heat that made my pussy spasm again and again against his unyielding hand.
"That's better, isn't it?" he asked calmly, wiping his hand on his jeans. Then he reached for the fly as he continued. "Now, I've watched you put that mouth on my son's cock a couple of times. He always looked like he enjoyed it. Why don't you show me how much?"
I looked away from the length of flesh he was pressing toward my face. I wanted to wrap my lips around it, but suddenly Jeff's face flashed into my mind. "I can't," I moaned.
