Wedding Heat

The hot July evening wrapped around my skin like a blanket, and I could already feel her full thighs pressing against me under the table. Lena sat next to me in a tight dark-blue dress that barely contained her lush tits and wide hips. After that stupid fight two weeks ago, we'd barely spoken, but tonight at her best friend's wedding, everything changed. I didn't know she'd overheard every word I'd said to my buddy on the phone.

"You look especially... appetizing tonight," I whispered, sliding my palm onto her knee beneath the tablecloth. My fingers immediately sank into soft, warm flesh.

"You think I didn't notice you staring?" she replied quietly, but there was a daring smile already creeping into her voice. Her hand covered mine, pressing it harder against her. "After that fight, I almost walked out, Seryozha. Then I heard you tell him... that you love me like this. Fat. That my rolls drive you fucking crazy."

I froze. My heart hammered. She knew. All this time.

"Len..." I started, but she cut me off, leaning in closer. Her lips nearly touched my ear.

"Shh. The music's playing, nobody can hear us. And I want you to prove those words. Right here."

Her fingers slid over my zipper. My cock reacted instantly, swelling against the fabric. All around us, glasses clinked and guests laughed, while we sat in the semi-darkness at the far table where the string lights barely reached our faces.

"You serious?" I breathed out, feeling her palm already working the zipper down.

"Absolutely. I want to feel you fuck me while everyone's dancing. Show me how much you love my fat ass."

I glanced around. Nobody was watching. The music blared, and I made my decision. I hiked her dress up higher, under the table. My fingers found the already-soaked slit between her full thighs. Lena let out a soft moan, biting her lip.

"Fuck, you're already dripping..." slipped out of me in a whisper.

"Because I've spent two weeks imagining you wrecking me. Come on, Seryozha... put it in me."

I pushed her panties aside. My cock sprang free, hot and hard. She shifted slightly, then lowered herself onto my lap, back to me, like she was just cuddling up for a dance. The dress covered everything. Slowly, tentatively at first, she sank down. Her wide, soft ass wrapped around my shaft, her slick lips parting to take me all the way in.

"Ohhh... fuck, you're so thick tonight..." she whispered, starting to move in slow circles. Each thrust produced a quiet, wet sound that drowned in the music. Her big ass cheeks slapped against my thighs almost silently, but I could feel them trembling, her belly rolls jiggling in rhythm.

I grabbed her hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. Thrusting up, deeper. She pressed back harder, her spine arching.

"Harder," Lena breathed. "Fuck your fat wife. I heard you say you wanted to cum in these rolls... so do it."

The pace picked up. She stopped holding back, moving bolder, almost bouncing on me. Her pussy was hot, wet, gripping my cock tight. Every time I buried myself to the hilt, she let out a quiet whimper of pleasure. The scent of her arousal mixed with flowers and champagne.

Suddenly she leaned forward, bracing her elbows on the table like she was admiring the cake. I pushed up harder, driving into her from behind. This wasn't a hidden position anymore—this was real fucking under the noise of the wedding. Her full thighs shook, her ass slapped louder, but it all vanished into the laughter and music.

"I'm gonna... cum..." she moaned, clenching around me. Her body shuddered, her pussy pulsing, squeezing hot juice down my cock.

I couldn't hold back. I gripped her hips tighter and slammed in deeper, flooding her hot cunt with my cum. The convulsions lasted forever, me pouring out everything I'd stored up over those two weeks.

We froze. She slowly slid off me, smoothed her dress down. Sat back beside me, breathing heavy. A satisfied, slightly embarrassed smile glowed on her face.

I took her hand. My fingers were damp.

"I'm sorry about that fight," I whispered into her ear. "I really do love you like this. Every roll, every soft curve."

"I know," she said quietly, pressing her cheek against my shoulder. "And I love when you look at me like that... hungry. Even when you're pissed. Especially then."

The music slowed. Guests started drifting out into the garden. We sat there, fingers intertwined, whispering in the post-orgasm silence like we'd truly heard each other for the first time in ages.

"Let's sneak out early," she suggested with a sly grin. "I'm not done with you tonight."

"Only if you wear that dress at home... no panties," I replied.

She laughed softly, and in that laugh, there wasn't a trace of resentment left.