El baile del padrino

The marquee lights strung across the barn's wooden beams flickered, casting honeyed shadows over the dance floor. Dust motes swirled in the warm July air, mixing with the scent of spilled champagne and wildflowers. I spotted her across the room, laughing at something the groom's uncle said, her auburn hair swept up to expose the pale curve of her neck.

Maya. Five years since we'd ended, and she still knew exactly how to stand in a dress.

She caught me staring. A slow, deliberate smile spread across her lips as she excused herself from the conversation. The crowd parted for her like water around a stone, and I felt my throat go dry.

"Marcus," she said, stopping close enough that I could smell her perfume. Jasmine. She always wore jasmine. "I was wondering when you'd stop pretending not to look at me."

"Maybe I was enjoying the view."

"You always did have good taste." Her hand found my tie, fingers playing with the silk. "Dance with me."

It wasn't a question. The band launched into something slow and bluesy as she pulled me onto the floor, her body pressing close in a way that was entirely deliberate. Her hip brushed against my hardening cock, and she laughed, low and knowing.

"You're not wearing anything under this dress," I murmured against her ear.

"Took you long enough to notice."

The song ended. Neither of us moved. Her hand slid down my chest, fingers hooking into my belt loop.

"The bridal suite," she whispered. "They won't miss us for twenty minutes."

The suite smelled like roses and fresh linen. She pushed me against the door before it fully closed, her mouth crashing into mine, hungry and desperate. I tasted champagne and something sweeter — her. Her hands fumbled with my belt, and I groaned as she freed my cock, stroking it firmly.

"God, I missed this," she breathed, dropping to her knees. "I missed how you feel."

Her mouth took me deep without warning, her tongue working the shaft as she swallowed me to the base. I tangled my fingers in her hair, not guiding, just holding on as she fucked me with her throat, spit glistening on her lips, tears at the corners of her eyes. The sight of her like this — my former love, now someone else's wife, devouring me with such desperate hunger — sent a jolt straight to my balls.

"Enough," I rasped, pulling her up. "I need to be inside you."

I turned her around, bending her over the edge of the king-sized bed. Her dress bunched around her waist, revealing that perfect ass, bare and already glistening. I positioned myself and slammed in with one brutal thrust.

She cried out, a mix of pain and pleasure. "Yes — fuck, Marcus — yes!"

I set a punishing rhythm, my hips slapping against her skin as she pushed back to meet me. Her pussy gripped me like a fist, wet and impossibly tight. I reached around to find her clit, rubbing in circles as she whimpered and moaned into the duvet.

"Cum for me," I ordered. "I want to feel you come on my cock."

She shuddered, her whole body tensing as she climaxed with a strangled cry. But I wasn't done. I pulled out, spun her around, and lifted her onto the bed, spreading her legs wide.

"Round two," I said, sliding back inside her. Her legs wrapped around my waist, heels digging into my ass as I drove deeper, slower now, savoring every inch. Her eyes rolled back, her mouth open, breathless.

"I'm close," she gasped. "Marcus, please —"

I came inside her with a guttural groan, spilling hot and deep as she climaxed again around me, her walls milking every drop. We collapsed together, sweaty and trembling, my face buried in her neck.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. Her fingers traced lazy patterns on my back.

"I should get back," she finally whispered. "They'll notice."

"Let them."

She laughed softly, kissing my forehead. "Same time next wedding?"

I couldn't help but smile. "I'll be there."

CATEGORIES: [Hotwife, Wedding, Just the Two of Us, Ex-Girlfriend, Cheating]