"I do," replied Melanie, her throat suddenly as dry as her eyes were wet. Her sister was pulling up the thong and standing. Melanie waited until she was fully stood, her hands clasped in the brunette's before she said, "I pronounce us woman and wife."
She paused and waited for her sister to say the next part of the service they had agreed, "You can kiss the bride," said Grace happily
The mouths moved together for a passionate kiss, longer than ever, their mouths moulded together so that even as their lips moved they did so in unison, as their tongues pressed and touched and probed. Eventually they both broke for air and Melanie reached for the champagne, "A glass Mrs Hooper?"
"Yes, Mrs Hooper," her sister smiled back.
Melanie filled both glasses to near the brim, passing one to her sister and raising her own in a toast, "To us both and to having the sexiest sister-wife any girl could want."
Giggling giddily, even without the alcohol, her sister toasted her back before taking a gulp and tittered some more as the bubbles popped against her tongue. Melanie took her hand and led her to the white bench, repainted just the last weekend by her father, and which now had a couple of balloon bouncing from each handle, together with a series of love hearts dangling from it. The two sisters, now wives, sat down side by side, holding each other's hands as they sipped the champagne, in between the drinks their lips pursing up and tenderly pecking forward in a series of loving kisses as they squeezed at each other's hands.
They carried on, refilling the flutes with champagne as they went, until well into the afternoon. In one way Melanie could have continued sitting here forever, kissing her sister-wife, sipping the bubbly, enjoying the day. But a rumble in her stomach reminded her that whilst love can conquer most things, it can't conquer the body's physical needs. She broke, reluctantly, "We should eat."
Her sister nodded her agreement, taking her sister's hand to stand and not letting it go as they walked into the kitchen. It was a shame there wasn't waitresses to bring it through, thought Melanie, but having anyone else involved would have complicated things and might have led to rumours getting back to their parents, to say nothing of the cost. The two teens heated up the food and spooned out some vegetables before Grace took it in as Melanie went to get the half-drunk bottle of champagne from the garden. She returned to find her sister had served the food and was sitting waiting for her; Melanie refilled the glasses and joined her.
They fed bits of pie to each other, smiling and giggling, their hands often reaching out to stroke the other's. It was the most romantic meal Melanie had ever had and she knew if she thought that her sister would think it even more. The meal finished, they gently kissed a few more times before Melanie stood up and gave a speech, which rolled in a best man's jokes, a few comments her Dad would have made about his eldest daughter if she was getting married to anyone but her sister and finally a few heartfelt words of her own, about how much she loved and desired her sister and how glad she was to marry her, even if no-one would ever know but the two of them. She was looking down at Grace as she said it and could tell she was hitting the right chords from her sister's reaction, a hand over her heart and a lovey-dovey expression, then a few sniffs and blurred eyes as she got o the most sentimental section.
"I love you for now and ever, my sister, my wife," she finished the speech.
"I love you too," sniffled Grace, dabbing at her eyes with a cloth napkin.
"I think it's time for our first dance as wives," said Melanie, reaching down for her sister, who nodded and smiled, before taking it and standing up.
The song for the first dance was one of their few arguments when planning the wedding. Melanie had taken the quiet logical point, that as neither of them liked melodic ballads it was daft to go for 'Lady in Red' (she could have added that neither of them were in red, but hadn't). Her sister had countered that the first dance is supposed to be a slow, romantic smoochy dance between two recently married lovers, not a banger in a nightclub. Melanie had dug in her heels for at least a week, until one evening when their parents were both working late, Grace had spent an hour persuading her younger sister (mainly by licking her out for most of that time, with a few arguments thrown in when she paused to let Melanie calm down from her orgasms). However, as the music started she realised what her sister had meant, it might not be a song she'd play in the car or in her room whilst studying, but it was perfect when her sister was standing in her prom/wedding dress in front of her, looking gorgeous and shining so bright.
She stepped forward and took Grace in her arms, one hand on the blonde's waist holding it tight, the other on her butt squeezing it. Her sister held her back, resting her head against Melanie's shoulder and sighing happily as the two of them began to glide round the room, holding each other close. Melanie wished the song would never end, so much so that when it did she only broke their dance long enough to restart. Twice more they went round the room, until Grace stepped back, a smile on her face, "We should try another song this time."
The next one was a faster number, more for the clubs than the dance floor, and the two sisters switched their moves, so that they were gyrating around each other, Grace standing in the middle as her sister sexily rubbed herself against her, the blonde purring like a very contented cat. The next one had them jiving and jitterbugging like they were in the fifties before a return to the slow dance, holding each other tight as they swayed. They continued dancing for the rest of the afternoon and into the evening, only breaking to drink some more wine and nibble a few sandwiches and cocktail sausages on the couch, before returning to the centre of the room for a sensual smooch and a dance.
As what was to be their last song stopped Grace looked up with a smile, "I think it's time I went to bed," she smiled sexily, "Come and join me in ten minutes."
"Ten minutes," Melanie replied, "That sounds like eternity."
"It'll be worth it," her sister cooed sexily, before slipping out of her sister's arms. Melanie licked her lips as she watched her go, before doing a little bit of clearing up and then heading up the stairs. She checked the bathroom was free before cleaning her teeth and giving her short brunette hair a quick brush. She looked at the clock on the landing wall, nine minutes. She forced herself to wait that final sixty seconds before walking down the hall to their parents room and its big double bed. Knocking, she asked, "Are you ready?"
"Yes, come on in," her sister said sexily and Melanie opened the door.
Grace was lying on top of the bed, curled in a sultry pose with her head resting on her hand as she looked at the doorway. She was wearing a one-piece night-suit, dark black where it covered her pussy, see-through over her stomach and open so her titties were out as it reached the top. As her sister entered the teen moved upwards to sit on her knees, a finger going under one of the straps on her shoulder and sliding it downwards, "Do you want to help me out of this?" she giggled.
"In a moment," Melanie replied, removing her own jacket and tossing it to the chair in the corner. Her blouse soon followed and then her bra, her tits bouncing as free as her sister's (even if they were a smaller ones). She undid her skirt, briefly paused on deciding what to do with, before throwing it on top of the jacket. Her thong was last, as she turned away from her sister and bent down sexily, wiggling her ass seductively as she peeled the underwear down and stepped out of it. She turned back towards Grace, who was eying her younger sister greedily, and sashayed sexily towards the bed, deliberately swinging her hips and waist so her breasts jiggled and swayed.
