Some months had passed since I proposed to Sandra...I often smiled to myself as I remember the moment I asked her to be my wife. I had been on the point of ejaculation, my cock pushed deep into her sister Jules' mouth, Sandra fucking her up the ass at the same time with the aid of a strap-on...as I'd shot one of the biggest loads of my life into her sister's throat, Sandra had accepted. How romantic.
Now it was the day of the wedding. Sandra had asked both Jenny, her daughter, and Jules to be her maids of honour, and had gone to every length to ensure the wedding would be a spectacle. The girls' outfits had been designed by Sandra personally, and she had overseen every element of their manufacture. The theme was pink.
Sandra had taken many polaroids of the girls' fittings, and had 'carelessly' left them on her bedside table, something I'd been grateful for...one image of Jenny skirtless, with her back partially to the camera, played on my imagination. She looked oblivious as the assistant adjusted her white stocking-tops, her ass enhanced by the skinniest white g-string, and a translucent, pale pink blouse encasing her massive bust, her blessing from her even-more-massive mother. Her shoes were of course totally unacceptable for a wedding, but were typical of Jenny's tacky taste, being 6-inch white stiletto heels. I hope all the girls had them for the big day.
Another photo, one of Sandra's sister Jules, was of her applying her makeup, leaning forward toward a mirror which must have been just next to the camera. She had only partially dressed at this stage, and wore a tiny top which, as she leaned forward, revealed a huge amount of slightly freckled cleavage...I could just imagine how her tits would've wobbled at the time, as acquainted as I was with their pendulous size, naked. The thought of their teasingly-obscured, drooping forms, combined with the image of Jenny's ass was almost too much to bear.
I had opted for no best man for the service, but had considered Eva, our new glamourous she-male friend. The thought of her probable outfit tickled my imagination no end...but I would be too distracted. It just wouldn't look right. At the reception however...perhaps she could help me out with some duties...we'll see, I thought. So the assembly at the altar would consist of Jenny, Jules and the titanic Sandra.
Finally the big day had come. I'd had many hours of preparation in the morning, lots of phone calls, driving...as did Sandra. The last I'd seen of her she had been arranging the delivery of flowers to the service. She'd been standing with her back to me on the phone, one hand on her hip, semi-attired in her bridal outfit...well, I assumed so under her black silk gown, judging from the pink hi-heels and stockings I could see. As I left her, I heard her giggle and softly murmer 'naughty boy'. I shook my head: she was an incurable flirt.
- - - - - - - - -
I was adjusting my outfit in a rear, secluded room behind the main room where the service was to be held in an hour or so, when I heard an echo of that giggle that I'd heard in our lounge room in the afternoon. I stopped and listened. There it was again. I shrugged and assumed it was one of the other girls, perhaps Jenny. I then thought it would be wise to check that the flowers had been delivered.
Opening the door to the adjacent room, I was at first confused by what I saw, as it looked like Sandra and a young man were in a heated debate about something...I could only see the top half of the scenario, my view obscured by stacked up seats and boxes. The man had his back to me, while Sandra looked up at him, seeming to misunderstand something...then her expression changed. "Oh, it's so big!" It suddenly clicked: evidently I had just witnessed the moment of penetration. I knew that expression very well.
