The Forbidden Dance at Someone Else's Wedding

"You're looking at me like that again..." I breathed out as his palm settled on my waist, just a little lower than propriety allowed.

Lena's wedding was blasting through the old countryside restaurant: the smell of grilled meat, loud music, camera flashes going off everywhere. Mark and I had come together only because we'd promised our friend. After three months of cold war at home, this was the first time we'd been in the same space for longer than five minutes.

His fingers tightened slightly on the thin fabric of my dress. The skin beneath them instantly flared with heat, like he'd touched a raw nerve. I felt my nipples harden and rub against the lace of my bra.

"We agreed," he reminded me quietly, leaning close to my ear. His voice was low, a little raspy. "This doesn't mean anything. Just... a dance."

"Then why is your hand already under my skirt?" I whispered, feeling a tremor run through my thighs.

We moved slowly through the dimly lit dance floor. His body pressed closer than necessary. I could feel the hard bulge of his cock through his pants. It pushed against my lower belly, and with every sway of our hips, the pressure grew more insistent. My panties were already soaked.

"Because you're the one pressing into me, Mia," he breathed against my temple. "I can feel how hot you are... even through the fabric."

I didn't answer. Instead, I ran my palm across his chest under his jacket, feeling how fast his heart was beating. We were ex-spouses who hadn't officially divorced yet. And right now, this forbidden heat between us was both terrifying and exhilarating.

"Let's go outside," he said suddenly. Not a question. He just took my hand and led me through the crowd toward the side exit.

Beyond the door was a small, dark hallway leading to the service areas. The smell of dust, old wood, and his cologne. He pressed me against the wall so abruptly that I let out a soft gasp. His lips found mine immediately. The kiss was greedy, almost angry. Our tongues tangled, and I moaned into his mouth.

"We shouldn't..." I whispered when he pulled back to breathe.

"You're the one who said it doesn't mean anything," he replied, already hitching up my dress. His fingers slipped under my thin panties and found my slick slit. "Fuck, Mia... you're so wet, like you've been waiting for this for months."

Two fingers slid into me easily, all the way to the knuckles. I arched my back, gripping his shoulders. He started moving them fast, rough, almost punishing. My legs were shaking.

"Mark... deeper..." escaped my lips.

He spun me around to face the wall, hiked my dress up to my waist, and yanked my panties down to my knees in one motion. I heard him unbuckling his belt. A second later, the hot head of his thick cock pressed between my ass cheeks.

"Tell me you want it," he demanded, sliding his cock along my wet slit.

"Fuck me... please."

He entered with one powerful thrust. I bit my lip to keep from screaming. His cock filled me completely, stretching my walls. The heat of skin, the tremor of his thighs, the sound of our bodies slapping together—it all blurred in my head.

At first, he moved slowly, deeply, like he was savoring every inch. I could feel his balls slapping against my clit. Then the rhythm quickened. He grabbed my hair, pulled my head back, and started pounding into me hard, almost ferociously.

"That's it... just like that, yeah?" he growled in my ear. "You're mine, even if we're fighting. You feel how I'm stretching you?"

"Yes... harder... don't stop," I moaned, bracing my palms against the wall. My tits had spilled out of my neckline and were bouncing with each thrust. My nipples scraped against the cold plaster.

Suddenly, he pulled out, spun me around to face him, and lifted me by the ass. I wrapped my legs around him. He entered me again, this time looking straight into my eyes. That look—hungry, angry, and tender all at once—finished me completely.

We fucked standing up, like two desperate people who hated and wanted each other at the same time. His cock went so deep I could feel him hitting my cervix. My pussy clenched around him, dripping juices down his thighs.

"I'm gonna cum..." he gasped, speeding up.

"Inside me... cum inside me," I groaned, feeling my own orgasm building.

His body tensed. Hot streams of cum shot deep inside me. I screamed, clenching around him, and came too—sharp, bright, until my legs shook.

We froze, breathing hard. His cock was still pulsing inside me. Cum started slowly leaking down my thighs.

He pressed his forehead to mine.

"That was..." he started.

"Nothing," I finished, but there was no conviction in my voice.

He slowly set me down. Straightened my dress. I felt his seed still trickling out of me, staining the inside of my thighs.

We returned to the hall separately. But when our eyes met across the table half an hour later, I knew: this was only the beginning.