Dripping Wet Brides: Emma's Video

Matty burst into the bridal suite like the devil himself was on his heels.

He wasn't. Just his groomsmen and father followed, and Emma gave a short scream. 'Matty!' she yelled. 'I'm practically naked!' Grabbing a white silk robe with the word 'Bride' embroidered on the back, she wrapped it around herself with clumsy haste.

'Why would you care, you dirty fucking whore?' he spat. 'You'll happily get naked and fuck a couple of strangers for the whole world to see!'

Emma's world shattered. The robe wasn't properly tied, but she let the straps fall anyway. Her fingers wouldn't work to hold onto them anymore. 'What are you talking about?' she said, rallying with a prayer.

He can't have seen it,

she begged.

He just can't. Please, please, let it just be a rumor I can lie to him about.

Striding across the room, he shoved his phone in her face, the video already playing.

Pain shot through Emma's knees, and it took her a moment to notice her legs had given out and she was now kneeling on the floor.

'Yeah,' said Matty bitterly. 'On your knees, right where you belong. Begging me to forgive you.'

The regrettable scene played out before Emma's eyes, and she couldn't seem to look away. She'd been fully aware and consenting when it was created, but she'd felt too guilty to watch it the next morning, so this was her first viewing.

On screen, her low-cut dress had been pulled even further down so the neckline sat under her bare breasts. The bottom hem of the fitted garment had been pulled up around her waist, leaving her effectively naked. She was on her hands and knees, grinning and blushing as one of the strippers from her bachelorette party pounded at her pussy from behind. A crowd of her friends were clearly shown standing in a circle around the spectacle on the floor, cheering and egging her on.

Her heart sank further as the grin onscreen was interrupted when the other stripper knelt in front of her and guided his erection into her mouth. Now she was taking it from both ends and her friends began chanting her name.

'Em-ma! Em-ma! Em-ma!' the voices repeated, over and over again.

Pushing the phone away, Emma began trying to talk her way out of this. 'Matty,' she said, her voice quavering. 'I'm so sor—,'

'Keep watching,' he hissed. 'All the way to the end. If I have to watch it, so do you.'

He shoved it back in her face again and Emma's eyes filled with tears. They began to fall, clearing her vision so she could watch the amateur porn playing out on screen.

There wasn't much else to see. Not until the end, anyway. The man behind her pumped away like a jackhammer, clearly uncaring that he was ruining two people's lives. He probably banged as many affianced women as would take him at these events, no matter who was watching.

The man fucking her face was just as detached, obviously accustomed to the irony that he was the one being paid, but the bride-to-be was the one being used. Emma suspected he and his business partner had done this numerous times.

The man in Emma's pussy gave an almighty grunt and pounded faster for a few seconds, before relaxing as a satisfied smile spread across his face. He pulled out of her and the person holding the camera shuffled to the side to get a shot of his cream leaking from her.

I should have at least made them wear condoms,

thought Emma forlornly, marshalling her arguments.

Matty is never going to forgive me.

As the other man fucked her face, it became clear he was approaching his climax as well. The chant changed and hearing it on video, Emma cringed as she remembered what came next.

'On her face! On her face! On her face!' yelled the girls, clapping and stomping to make their point.

He didn't disappoint. Stepping back so quickly video-Emma swayed, a white stream erupted from his dick and splashed onto her cheek, followed by another on her forehead.

The crowd roared as the men pulled Emma to her feet and the trio took a bow, Emma with an abashed smile on her dripping face.

The video ended there and Matty finally put his phone away.

The room was silent. All four groomsmen and Matty's father stared accusingly at Emma, but it was nothing compared to the rage on the groom's face.

Emma finally spoke. 'Matty,' she said, her voice breaking. 'I didn't mean to. We smoked some weed and then the girls gave me this pill... I don't know what it was, but I was completely out of control. I would never, ever—'

'Never ever,' repeated Matty, bitterness creeping in amidst the anger. 'Except you did.'

'It was the drugs!' she said urgently. 'That wasn't me!'

Matty snorted. 'You're clearly consenting,' he pointed out. 'It's not like they roofied you. You just thought it would be fun to be a whore and figured I wouldn't find out.'

She shook her head. 'No! It wasn't like that,' she explained fervently. 'You saw the video. I didn't even get off. It was just a stupid mistake.'

He stayed silent, so she kept talking.

'Please,' she begged, beginning to sob. 'Please, please forgive me. I love you so much. I'll do anything — anything at all — to make it up to you. Just please...' She didn't want to complete the sentence. If she said it out loud, it might put the idea in his head.

Just please don't leave me,

she finished silently.

Matty still said nothing, but a couple of his friends shifted restlessly behind him.

'Matty,' she tried again, but he spoke up before she could say anything else.

'Take the robe off.'

Confused washed through her. 'My robe? I— why?'

'"Anything", you said,' he repeated through clenched teeth. 'And I am telling you to stand up and take the damned robe off.'

Emma belatedly realized the top half had been gaping down to her waist this whole time anyway. She'd been too distracted to tie it up properly. But take it off altogether?

Standing slowly, she undid the tie and let the white silk fall to the ground.

They probably saw everything when they entered the room anyway.

She remembered the video, cringing internally, and accepted that they'd likely seen her with two dicks in her as well.

Matty took his phone out of his pocket again and held it up towards her. It took Emma a long, confusing moment to understand that he was filming her.

She was not dressed for any video with a claim to propriety.

The teddy was one layer of loosely woven lace, and it left nothing to the imagination. The straps of the halter neck never actually met at her cleavage, instead plunging all the way down either side of it, until it thinned to two shoestrings that framed the sides of her pussy. This barely-there border eventually curved under to caress the outside edges of her ass cheeks. At the front, the flimsy halves were held together in the middle by two inch-long clasps, one just under her cleavage, the other just above her pussy. A single thin strap hugged her hips horizontally, holding the outside edge of the lace into place and giving the vertical pieces something to attach to at the back. The design left her freshy waxed pussy on display, with only the landing strip on her mound to show there was ever any hair there. Her breasts were technically covered, but the open weave barely obscured her nipples.

She may as well have not been wearing it.

'Good girl,' said Matty, and a kernel of hope blossomed in her stomach. 'Turn around and show us the back.'

She did as she was told, not daring to question her fiancé when she might be on the path to forgiveness. Her ass cheeks were bared in all their glory, but it couldn't be helped.

'Bend over and spread your legs,' said Matty, and she tensed. 'Show us your pussy.'

Staring at the wall behind her, Emma's mouth fell open. She realized what was happening now.

What the actual fuck? We aren't alone.

This was a game she and Matty played sometimes, where he gave her dirty instructions about how to pose and what else to do, and she meekly complied. It turned them both on. But they'd never done it in public.

Trembling, she moved one leg perhaps a foot to the side, and then thought better of it. If Matty was testing her to be sure she would really do anything he asked, she needed to do it properly. She widened her stance and then bent at the hips, tilting her pelvis to push her peach out behind her.

In for a penny, in for a pound.

The room was silent. Six men stared between Emma's parted lips and at the innocent pucker above for a full minute without saying a word.

It was the longest minute of her life. The objectification of the game she usually played with Matty turned her on, and she was frightened that this was too. It would be absolutely mortifying if her pussy nectar was slowly slicking her crevice, proving to these men that she was indeed as big of a slut as that video suggested.

'Stand up,' Matty finally told her. 'Go lie on the divan.'

The piece of furniture in question was a luxurious work of art, made with dark, polished wood and creamy silk. Emma had been planning to have some of her wedding photos taken while she reclined on it, but she hadn't meant for any of them to be while she was only wearing this.

She did as he told her though, positioning herself according to his instructions when he spoke again. When she was finally arranged to his liking, Emma lay with the back of the sofa to her side, a cushioned armrest under her head, one knee bent and leaning against the sofa back, and the other leg opened as wide as her hips would allow, with her foot on the ground.

She didn't know what to do with her hands. The stance made her peach the focus of the vignette and she didn't want to annoy Matty by resting them on her body and ruining his vision. She settled for placing them on the soft surface below her, trying to not to clutch the upholstery.

Matty took the worry from her with his next words, replacing it with a bigger one. 'Play with yourself,' he told her, his voice hard. 'Give us a good show.'

She baulked. Many, many times, their naughty interludes had resulted in this request — sometimes even with Matty filming her getting off — but she'd never dared to imagine that he'd want anyone else to see.

The seconds stretched out. All the men in the room had obviously already seen the video. Surely watching her take two cocks and two loads of spunk was worse than masturbating? She wouldn't need to be any more embarrassed than she already would be once she got around to thinking about anything other than securing Matty's forgiveness.

I didn't orgasm in the video,

she reluctantly acknowledged. While it technically lowered her culpability (in her eyes, anyway), its lack meant she hadn't lost control either. She hadn't been lying — her friend Marissa had provided her with the pill an hour or so before the video had been taken — but Matty was right. Her inhibitions had been lowered significantly, sure, but she was still in control of her decisions.

Masturbating in this room full of men represented not one, but

two

losses of control, she realized.

The first had to do with her voluntarily ceding her will to Matty. Everyone present knew she was backed into a corner, and that she hadn't chosen to do this on a whim.

The second was more complicated. As arousal ballooned inside her body, she would become less and less command of herself. She'd get into it. Her pussy would drip onto the pretty couch, her nipples would harden, her face would flush, and she'd probably make noises. The vulnerability would put her at a distinct disadvantage to all these fully clothed and calm men.

As her hands crept towards her peach, Emma accepted that this was the only way. If she wanted Matty to get past this, she had to convince him that she was completely at his command.

If he wants a show, I'll give the best damn performance I can,

she decided

.

With her legs arrayed like this, her lips were stretched apart too, but she used one hand to spread them further.

Matty wants everyone to see.

She couldn't hide even the tiniest bit of her self-pleasure between the folds. She deliberately took her time getting her other hand into place, wanting to butter up Matty by ensuring everyone saw how selflessly she was showing them her secret places. He had to be aware that she was shamefully turned on. She'd had trouble getting her fingers into the appropriate V-shape because it was so slippery.

Her pearl was already coated with natural lubricant, but she slid two fingers down to her hole and penetrated it to collect more. Matty liked that. He'd be keen for everyone to see.

Ignoring the tendrils of bliss unfurling inside the slippery tunnel, Emma took a deep breath and took stock of her audience to ensure they were appropriately mesmerized.

Ashton, Matty's younger brother, didn't appear to realize she was looking at him. He was completely engrossed in his sister-in-law-to-be's pussy, his lips parted as he took in the unbelievable scenario. Emma didn't blame him for being so incredulous. The boys had entered the room less than fifteen minutes ago, and now she was fingering herself for them. It was ludicrous.

James (Matty's older brother) looked similarly impressed. He had a smile on his face, and his eyes shone with suppressed glee.

I've been in his spank bank for years,

Emma acknowledged.

This is a dream come true for him.

Xavier surprised her. He was her best friend's husband, and she'd have had him pegged as 'most likely to be uncomfortable', but he didn't appear to have a care in the world. His eyes crawled over her body — up to her breasts, back down to her peach, even further down where he might be able to see her asshole, with her legs spread this wide — but never as high as her face.

I'm not a person to him right now,

she acknowledged.

Just a fuckable body.

Charlie actually did look uncomfortable. He was coupled up with one of her friends too, and Laura would be livid to learn he was witnessing this. Partly because of the injustice to Emma, but mostly because she was the kind of girl who was jealous of her man watching porn.

Come to think of it, that's probably how Matty found out. She refused to watch when that video was being made. If she managed to get her hands on a copy of it...

Matty's father was licking his lips like he'd enjoy a taste, which was a surprise. He'd always given the appearance of quite a staid middle-aged gentleman. Emma would have assumed this would be too much for him.

Matty himself had an unreadable expression, which felt dangerous. Emma had pitched herself wholeheartedly into this scandalous scenario — she'd do

anything

for Matty — and he was supposed to be enjoying it.

She certainly was.

It might feel different if Matty had actually

forced

her to do this, but the implied ultimatum technically left her with an alternative. And Emma had always enjoyed being told what to do when lust overtook her. She'd fantasied more than once about intensifying her helplessness with an audience. In some ways, this was just as much of a gift to herself as it was to Matty. She got a chance to play out her fantasy without having to take any responsibility.

Well, not a lot of responsibility, anyway. She was technically doing it of her own free will. The distracting feelings at her g-spot were a much-needed way to smother the guilt and embarrassment she felt at having complied with this heinous request.

Sliding her fingers all the way out, she fought her blush as a string of nectar connected her digits and her hole for an excruciatingly long second. She'd just meant to innocuously ensure everyone saw how wet her fingers were, but that was something else. The slippery world between her legs was obviously as primed for this as her perverted imagination, and without her hangups to boot.

Beginning to rub her clit, Emma let out a shaky breath as pleasure washed over her. Usually, it took a few minutes before the sensations had this kind of gusto, but the elaborate circumstances had magnified the effects of her lust. If it had just been her and Matty, she'd have been hard-pressed to not babble out loud about how sensitive it was already. As things stood, she was extraordinarily aware of the path her fingers took. There were no careless strokes wasted here — every tiny movement was lovingly traced over and over again to maximize her enjoyment. And Matty's, she supposed.

Still videoing, her fiancé distracted her by whispering something to his father and handed him the camera. Now the man that would (hopefully) be her father-in-law in a few hours was filming Emma masturbate. She'd officially reached rock-bottom and for some shameful reason, it excited her even more. She wrenched her attention back to the strokes of her fingers and tried to concentrate.

If Emma were honest with herself, one of the reasons she was paying so much attention to doing it exactly right was that she wanted to finish up quickly. She was technically enjoying it, but... well, aside from wanting to get to the part where Matty forgave her, this was mortifying. All of these men were a big part of her life and the memory of Emma abasing herself was going to be something they thought of every time they saw her.

Plus, her bridesmaids would be here soon. She needed to be done already.

Matty was whispering to everyone now and Emma watched their reactions curiously. Xavier's eyebrows climbed up practically to his hairline, but he quickly recovered, looking back at Emma with a stupid grin. Charlie blanched. Lust blossomed in his eyes a second later, but a pallor of anxiety stayed as well. James looked like all his Christmases had come at once — as did Ashton, although not before a thoughtful frown had marred his forehead. Edmund (Matty, James, and Ashton's father) had obviously heard as well and shook his head in what appeared to be mock disappointment. Whatever he was judging Matty for, he didn't look too concerned about it.

Emma's curiosity was shelved (or perhaps satisfied) when James and Ashton approached her. Distracted, her insatiable strokes slowed to a stop as they went either side of the divan and reached for her.

Just like that, James unhooked the clasp below her breasts, and they repositioned her lingerie so that the material was pushed either side of her boobs.

They could already see them anyway

, Emma reasoned.

This is just to make me feel more defenseless.

One of her breasts was covered by James' warm hand seconds before Ashton began massaging the other, and panic shot through Emma.

Matty is letting them play with my tits?!

It was going to be difficult enough to live this down without the memory of their hands on her. She had to put a stop to this, but how? The whole point was to completely humiliate herself and reassure Matty she'd never do a thing like this again. She had to do anything he wanted, or risk that she'd wake up single tomorrow.

A knock sounded on the suite door, and she froze altogether. That would be her bridesmaids. They were ten minutes early, but she couldn't exactly tell them she was masturbating and to come back later. And she especially couldn't tell them she was doing it in front of a couple of their husbands and her future in-laws while Matty had her filmed.

The knock sounded again. She had to do something.

Fortunately, Matty was a step ahead of her. 'Where's your phone?' he whispered loudly. 'They'll call next if you don't answer the door.'

Not trusting her voice, Emma nodded through the open door to the bedroom, where her phone was attached to the charger. Matty strode on silent feet towards it, and she watched him flick the button. Mere seconds later, a quiet, regular buzzing sounded. He calmly waited for the call to end, watching the screen. It felt like years, but eventually it rang out and Matty began typing a text.