Meeting Her Match

JEWEL RODRIGUEZ

Weddings turn me on. I didn’t realize this right away. What happened was that I started being asked to participate in my sorority sisters’ weddings. There were so many, one after the other. I experienced countless fittings for the pretty, pastel chiffon dresses. I attended engagement parties on yachts, in parks, even at a bowling alley. I drank more champagne than anyone has a right to. At some point, while one of my fellow “sisters” confessed that she dreaded yet another extravaganza, I realized how much I loved every moment.

Maybe that’s because I always managed to hook up with a hot groomsman. I had a knack, I suppose, of picking the perfect single friend of the groom to pay attention to. By the day of the event, I’d have my chosen man wrapped around my finger and raring to go. Then all I had to do was wait for the proper moment—generally right after the nuptials—to pounce. I’d snag my groomsman, and we’d go at it at in an alcove, or a limo, or out behind the hall. I was not particular as long as I got to say, “Oh yes,” after the bride said, “I do.”

Last Saturday was my twelfth time as a bridesmaid. I made eyes at Gregory the whole week leading up to the big day. I danced extra close to him at the Jack-and-Jill bachelorette party. I stroked him under the table during the rehearsal dinner. On the morning of the wedding, I was surprised to find him outside my hotel room door.

“What are you doing here?” I asked, confused.

“Don’t tell me it’s bad luck,” he teased. “You’re not the bride.”

I was already in my melon-colored chiffon strapless gown. Gregory had on his sleek gray suit. Of all the men I’d met at weddings, he was by far my favorite. He had a dirty sense of humor, a sly way of looking at me to make sure I’d gotten his double entendres. I liked his style, and his charming attitude with the rest of the guests—with that special sexual undercurrent he seemed to save for me. But I hadn’t expected this situation. This was the first time one of my flirtations had gotten out of hand. I’d always been the one in charge, but not now.

He backed me into the room, and said, “Take that off. You won’t want to rumple it.”

I didn’t say no, because the sight of him had made my panties wet. I didn’t say anything except, “We have to be at the church in less than an hour.”

“Then we’ll have to hurry.” He was in motion, carefully pulling my dress over my head, pawing at my undergarments. I’d been imagining our impending tryst, so when he reached into my panties, he found that I was positively drenched.

“Weddings turn you on,” he said, and he wasn’t asking, but I nodded as I dropped to my knees. He undid his fly and released his thick, fat cock. I started to suck him, thinking about how in less than sixty minutes I’d be standing across from him, looking as sweet and innocent as ever. That made me work him extra hard, and he moaned and braced himself with his hands on my shoulders.

“Tell me why?” he queried, but how could I with my mouth full of his cock? He seemed to understand my predicament, because he pushed me back and then had me get on the bed. In seconds, he was between my legs, pulling off my panties and starting to go down on me. “Tell me,” he insisted in between licks of his tongue against my juicy snatch. “What’s the big turn-on?”

I didn’t know what to say. Nobody had ever figured me out before. How had Gregory guessed that I was a wedding slut? I managed to murmur, “I like the pomp and circumstance. All the preparations feel like foreplay to me.”

He pinched my clit as a reward for my confession, and then he drew hard on that swollen button and made me come. I shivered on the bed, lost in the bliss he was creating for me with his magic mouth. While the sweet contractions were still pulsating through me, Gregory rolled me over and got me on my hands and knees. I felt the fabric of his slacks against me as he prepared to fuck me doggie-style.

“How many weddings have you been to?” he asked.

“I’ve been a bridesmaid in twelve,” I panted. His cock was long and thick, and he managed to hit me in all the right places. I wondered how many times he would make me come before we had to sprint to the church. He knew exactly how to take me. He drove his cock into my pussy, and he ran one hand under my body to lightly stimulate my clit at the same time. I rested on my elbows, pushing my ass higher in the air as he rammed me. He timed our orgasms precisely, rubbing my clitoris harder as he fucked me faster. In what felt like seconds, I was coming again, and this time, Gregory climaxed with me. I felt him shooting deep inside me, and then he pulled out and I whipped around, slurping all my copious juices off his cock.

He hadn’t expected that, and he groaned as I licked him. I was so turned on by his surprise visit that I made it my mission to get him hard once more. It didn’t take long. When he was ready again, his dick as hard as steel, I told him to get out of his clothes. He stripped quickly, and then I pushed him onto the bed so he was on his back. I climbed astride him and began to bounce up and down on his dick. He palmed my breasts and told me how pretty I looked, how he’d been raring to fuck me from the first time he’d caught sight of me.

“And then when I realized you liked weddings…” he said.

“How did you know?”

“You just lit up every time anyone talked about the ceremony, the dinner, the limo…most guests glazed over, but you hung on every detail.”

“Speaking of hung…” I grinned at him. I loved the way his big dick felt inside me. When he reached for me and pulled me toward him, I was rewarded with the dulcet sensation of his mouth kissing and licking first one nipple, then the other.

I came, grinding my hips against his, moaning with the ecstasy that flooded through me. He pulled out and flipped me around, and this time, he gave me a pearl necklace, shooting all over my chest and tits.

“I have to go to a wedding next weekend,” he said as we showered together, noting the fact that we were due to the chapel in only minutes. I could feel the tingles start at my toes and begin to work up my body. “Would you be interested in being my date?”

“Oh, yes,” I sighed with heartfelt enthusiasm.

“In fact,” he said, “three of my frat brothers are getting married this summer. Maybe you’d like to be my date for all of the weddings.”

“I do!” I told him. “I mean, I would.”

“But you can’t fuck another groomsman,” he said, “only me.”

I was fine with that, so fine.

Now I’ve found a groomsman who loves weddings as much as I do. And who knows? Maybe someday the wedding we fuck at will be our own!