The Bride's Speech

The wedding reception was a blur of champagne and bad music, but all I could see was Elena. My boss. Three weeks into the job, and I'd already memorized the way she crossed her legs in meetings, the sharp click of her heels on the marble floor. Now she was in a deep green dress that clung to every curve, and she was staring at me from across the table.

"You're staring, Mark." Her voice cut through the noise, low and amused.

I felt heat crawl up my neck. "Sorry. It's just... you look different outside the office."

"Do I?" She took a sip of her wine, her eyes never leaving mine. "Less terrifying?"

"More." I didn't think before saying it.

She laughed, a real laugh, and my cock twitched in my slacks. The dance floor was packed, the bride—her best friend—was spinning in a white blur. Elena leaned in, her perfume hitting me like a drug.

"Follow me."

She didn't wait for an answer. I watched her ass sway as she walked toward the hotel's back corridor, past the restrooms, past a locked supply closet. She stopped at a door marked "Private" and pulled out a key card.

The room was a storage space—boxes of linens, a stack of chairs, a single dim bulb. She locked the door behind us and turned to face me.

"I've wanted this since your interview," she said, stepping closer. "The way you licked your lips when you answered my questions. You think I didn't notice?"

My hands were on her waist before I could think. "Fuck, Elena..."

She grabbed my tie and yanked me down, her mouth crashing into mine. Her tongue was hot and demanding, tasting of wine and something sweeter. I groaned against her lips, my hands sliding down to cup her ass through the thin silk.

"Pull my dress up," she ordered, breathless.

I didn't hesitate. The fabric bunched around her hips, revealing black lace panties, wet already. I could see the dark stain on the crotch. She hooked a finger under the elastic and pushed them down her thighs.

"Touch me."

I slid my hand between her legs. She was soaked, her pussy lips slick and swollen. I circled her clit with my thumb and she gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders.

"More," she whispered. "I need more."

I pushed two fingers inside her. She was tight, hot, clamping down on me as I curled them forward. Her head fell back against the door, a low moan escaping her throat.

"That's it," she breathed. "Right there."

I worked her fast, my palm grinding against her clit, my fingers plunging deep. Her hips started rolling, chasing the friction.

"I'm close," she panted. "Don't stop, please, don't—"

She came with a shuddering cry, her body clamping around my fingers, her juice running down my wrist. I pulled my hand out and brought it to my mouth, tasting her.

She watched me, her eyes dark. "Your turn."

She dropped to her knees, her fingers working my belt. My cock sprang free, hard and aching. She wrapped her hand around it, stroking once, then leaned forward and took me into her mouth.

"Fuck," I groaned, my head falling back.

She sucked me deep, her tongue working the shaft, her hand twisting at the base. The sounds she made were obscene, wet and hungry. I tangled my fingers in her hair, not pulling, just holding.

"I want to fuck you," I said, my voice rough.

She pulled off, her lips wet, her eyes glinting. "Then do it."

I spun her around, bending her over a stack of boxes. Her dress was still bunched at her waist, her ass bare and perfect. I lined up and slammed into her.

She cried out, a raw, guttural sound. "Yes—fuck—yes!"

I fucked her hard, my hands on her hips, pulling her back onto my cock with every thrust. The boxes scraped the floor, the light swung. She was so tight, so wet, and I couldn't get enough.

"Harder," she begged. "Please, Mark, harder."

I grabbed her hair and yanked her head back, my other hand smacking her ass. The sound echoed in the small room. She moaned, her body shuddering.

"Look at you," I growled. "My boss, bent over a supply closet like a whore."

"I'm your whore," she gasped. "Now fuck me like it."

I drove into her, relentless, my balls slapping against her. She was dripping, her legs shaking, and I felt her clench around me again.

"I'm going to come," I warned.

"Inside me," she begged. "Please, fill me up."

That was all it took. I exploded, my cock pulsing deep inside her as I spilled everything. She came with me, her body convulsing, her cries muffled by her arm.

We collapsed together, panting, sweat cooling on our skin. She turned her head, a lazy smile on her lips.

"Monday," she said, "you're getting a raise."

---

The next morning, I woke up in my own bed, the scent of her perfume still on my skin. My phone buzzed. A text from Elena:

*Coffee? My office. 9am. Wear something nice.*

I grinned, my cock already stirring. The wedding was over, but something told me this was just the beginning.