Simon is downstairs talking with relatives at the reception, it's been sometime since he heard anything.
Trying to quell the immersive, all encompassing feeling that is a heady blend of betrayal and arousal, suspicion and suspense, apprehension, and above all, longing.....It's just too much to bear all alone when he is so publicly exposed. But he has to, there's no other way except to force it all down, squashing everything he is feeling and wondering, beneath the perfunctory shield of the occasion. It's not that he doesn't like most of the people he's engaging with, only the context of it when everything in him is being suppressed to satisfy this social construct he is trapped within, even the clothes feel strange and alien to him now, the novelty of the smart dress just an itch to be scratched away to get to what's really happening inside himself. But he mustn't let it show, mustn't fidget or think about what she's doing, up there.
After what has felt like the longest time the wait feels suddenly almost over as he spy's Amelia in the distance straightening her dress, and heading over from the lift.
As she sidles past tables he watches her and her patient demeanour. He holds his nerve. Waiting, to perceive some knowledge from what lies behind those blue eyes, to know before he really can know just what has transpired and to be with his wife.
A flick of the eyebrows from her and he is finally, on his way up, meandering through the tables, trying to ignore faces, trying to walk in these shoes, these clothes, and the lift, forget the lift. He makes for the stairs, the cold emptiness of the stairwell, movement that feels like freedom, pushing out the bullshit layers that infringe on his being, to pull against the banister and work his neglected legs for a time.
He comes to the corridor, composes himself. Allowing the excitement now to enter his fibres and spread out, steadying his nerves.
He knocks gently at the hard wooden door of the bridal suite. His wife is only moments away and he must have her, be with her.
He hears her coming to the door. It opens slowly, a crack, and then some more, enough to let him in and together they shut it swiftly.
Her arms open to him, her face comes to kiss, passionately, her lips on his. She pulls back.
"Come in the room." And leads him in.
She turns to look at him. "Have you noticed somethin'?
"You, you look...you smell different."
"You smell of a guy."
She turns up the seduction, her smile is quiet but beaming from inside
"That's cause I've been with a guy." She offers And kisses his face, lips. Her arms holding him.
"And sucking cock." She pulls him tighter, slips her tongue into his mouth. He grabs her head, clasping, now in her mouth, and she moans softly.
"You like that I've been sucking cock?" She says softly.
"Yea!" He responds breathlessly, sounding his approval.
She groans, smiling. "That's good."
His hands feeling her beneath the dress, grabbing her arse, kissing her face, her neck, smelling her warm skin. Her giggling.
"Unzip me!" She urges him, her voice quickened, impatient. He hauls it down by the zipper and breaking herself free of her confines goes for his shirt.
"But have you had a good time?" He thinks to check in with her.
"I've had a FUCKING good time now stop bein' so flippin' considerate will ya!" She smiles at him lovingly for a moment then breaks her tongue out all over his, salivating over him, entering him, owning his mouth.
"Did he fuck you good Tamara?"
She smiles, such a look on her face.
"I've been a dirty, slut Simon!" She says, kissing him.
"Just how you like me to be". She says, her eyes twinkling.
"Yea!"
"Can't you tell?" "I've 'ad SPUNK, all over my face!" She says aggressively.
"Yess!"He says under his breath as she holds up her chin to him and he kisses her all over her cheeks, revering her like a queen as his lips pay homage to her, little licks too, tasting the salty cum on her, on his goddess.
"I love you being a dirty slut!" He tells her, reassuring her of his love and approval.
"A real...dirty....slut?" She questions him.
"Yea!" He answers feverishly.
"Good." She says.
"Cause I didn't just fuck one guy, I 'ad two!"
He pushes her back onto the bed and climbs onto her, his mouth on her skin, on her tits, sucking at the nipples, pulling her dress up.
"Wait, just a sec, let me get this off." She says sitting up. "I've 'ad it on all night."
"Really!" Returns Simon excitedly.
She smiles at him. "They wanted to fuck a bride in her weddin' dress." "There's spunk on it, somewhere." And teasing him even more whilst feeling his cock. She stares him dead in the eye.
"I'll make you suck it off for me!" "Before I tek it t' dry cleaners."
"Oh, shit!" He exclaims,, and she laughs softly to herself while she pulls him off, taunting as she drives him close.
"They both fucked me with my dress on Simon!"
"They both USED me." "Fucked me!" "In the arse as well!"
"Oh yea!"
"Ye'ea...."Loved it in my arse tonight, all tha' SPUNK mmm!"
"Look, got my slutty knickers on for you!"
"You love me in these don't you?"
"Yess!" He responds feverishly, then moving down her stomach she opens her thighs to him and he dives between them, she smells so beautiful, soaked in spunk and her own cum. Smooshing his face against her nylon covered bush he breaths her in, smelling and ingesting the ripeness of her, wanting to lick her but holding off, rubbing himself against her, before giving way and running his salivating tongue over the coarse fabric.
"Lick me Simon!"
"Yes."
She lifts her bum up and pulls her knickers down over her legs. His tongue comes in on her, salivating as he slides over her, licking her clit, diving into her entrance, pushing his face hard up against her, she pulls him by the back of his head tight between her thighs, loving him down there after all she has done tonight. He pulls back and she lets him go.
"You love that babey?"
"Yes!" He says as he comes up on her, tongue going in her mouth, their lips smooshing.
" Oh I love tha' smell, on you!" "...incredible, tha'is!" She says.
"I 'ave t' fuck you, now Tamara!"
"Oh yea you do!!"
