“David, oh – fuck yeah,” Jen was panting hard, her legs wrapped around my waist, as I drove my cock into her relentlessly. I was trying not to make too much noise, fully aware that it was the middle of the afternoon and we were fucking in the cubicle of a public toilet. Jen, as always, didn’t appear to give a shit who walked in or what they heard.
Our relationship together had been built on a dare, and from that very first encounter – when Jen, then a stranger, had convinced me to masturbate for her on a public bus – everything about our six-plus months together had been daring.
I’d never stopped to consider if I’d entered into a highly sexualised codependent relationship with another addict because we’d been too busy fucking each other’s brains out.
Sex with Jen required a minimum of two people; it could take place at any time, in any location, with no limit yet set on the levels of kink in which we could engage. Most women wouldn’t try anal sex, but Jen demanded it. She was a twenty-year-old University Senior, who was willing to do ‘arse-to-mouth,’ which was something that I only believed happened on porn sets, but Jen seemed to get off on the pure depravity of the act.
Fucking in public, as we were again now, was so commonplace in our relationship as to be an expected norm; she would dare me, I would dare her, and neither of us would back down or cry off. We’d been caught and hadn’t stopped. We’d been openly watched and made a point of putting on a show. We’d been walked in on and invited participation.
The first time Jen sucked my cock after anal sex, it had been her college roommate’s arse I’d been fucking, and she hadn’t hesitated. After that night, I thought this would be the limit of how crazy things would get between us, but it had only been beginning.
Jen kissed me fiercely, our faces separated by mere millimetres, when she pulled back to whisper to me, “David, I have a Dare for you?”
I kept on fucking her; I could guess what was coming; Jen was going to ask me to ejaculate inside her pussy unprotected. I’d cum in her arse and mouth more times than I could count – and I’d tried to count – but we’d always taken the precaution of a condom when I’d ejaculated in Jen’s pussy, no matter how spontaneous the sex had been.
“OK,” I answered, sparing half a thought for finding a pharmacy selling the morning-after pill as I fucked her harder against the stall door. The rhythmic knocking of the door in its frame was now evident to even my overwhelmed senses. Any man walking into the bathroom would certainly hear us now, and so I fucked Jen harder still to make sure that anyone listening in would have a real story to tell.
“David, I’d like you to come with me to my cousin’s wedding,” Jen said, looking me right in the eye. If she was focusing to judge my reaction, she needn’t have bothered with the eye contact because I stopped thrusting with my cock buried fully inside her.
In the sudden silence, I heard a chuckling from someone outside the cubicle, who’d incorrectly interrupted the finality of my last movement as an orgasm; the sound of the bathroom door opening and closing followed as the person left without waiting for us to appear.
“What,” I said, sounding blunt, rude and loud, given the precariousness of my current position.
Jen tried to grind her hips against me, but she was pinned completely against the stall door by the weight of my body.
“Don’t stop, David; I’m going to cum,” her voice had also returned to its normal conversation level as she entreated me to push on.
Instead, I stepped back, lowering Jen’s body and allowing her legs to drop, with my still hard cock springing free, as I stepped back and the hem of her skirt dropped down to just above the knee.
Repeating Jen’s question, I asked, “You want me to come to a family wedding?”
“I knew you’d be surprised; that’s why I waited until…” she smiled devilishly, punctuating the look by grabbing my cock.
“We’ve been seeing each other for almost the whole academic year; my parents are sure something is going on, and I think it’s better to head them off with a lie,” that we were having a traditionally chaste Anglican relationship, “rather than let them jump to the right conclusions.”
I’d met Jen’s parents on the same evening I’d fucked her in the arse while they were waiting on their dinner to be served in the bar that I managed. They’d been told that the dinner was free, but their daughter had paid in full for every part of it.
Whatever fears they had about Jen having an active sex life, they weren’t fearful enough; few women were as enlightened as Jen, and if they had any true idea what exactly was going on, a family wedding was the last place I’d be welcome.
“Turn around,” Jen said, bringing me back from my introspection. “You’re too hard to think clearly.”
I didn’t resist as she turned me around to face the toilet bowl, automatically moving carefully with my Jeans around my ankles as Jen stepped behind me, kissing my neck and gripping my cock firmly.
“Mmmh, oh yeah – I always love how big your cock feels in my hand,” Jen purred into my ear as she started wanking on my shaft. “Look, going to weddings is something normal couples do; you’d be doing me a favour, coming along as a respectable date, and I, in turn, will be very happy to repay that favour in a less than respectable manner on some later date.”
“Jen, nothing about our relationship is respectable,” the handjob she was currently giving me in a public bathroom perfectly highlighting the point. “I’m not complaining; we’re almost a perfect match, but what if your family see the way I look at you.”
“That’s a fair point,” Jen said, and I heard the wicked edge her voice took when she was about to do something really kinky, “you do always look like you’re about to rip my clothes off – I like that about you.”
I felt her running a finger up and down the crack of my arse, which was sweaty from the excursion of holding Jen’s weight as we’d fucked, standing against the door of the stall. Her index finger slipped further down my crack and found my arsehole.
“Jen, I don’t think…” I started to protest as I felt her fingers teasing me.
“Oh, shush – you’re such a baby; if I can take this up my arse,” I felt her grip my cock a little harder as she continued to wank me, “I think you can manage one finger.”
I wasn’t being asked a question nor given a right to reply; Jen’s finger had already pushed inside to the first knuckle before I got the chance to say, “OK, do it.”
The feel of Jen’s finger was strange, but the way she was wanking my cock, like a woman being paid for the service, was a great distraction.
“Ooh, you like this,” Jen purred into my ear, “I can feel your cock swelling in my hand – you want more, don’t you, you little slut?”
Jen’s finger slipped deeper into my arse, going for my prostate, and I felt my cock pulse as if being inflated further from within. Jen knew what she was doing, and I could hear the smile on her lips, “So, will you come to my cousin’s wedding?”
She was now finger fucking my prostate as her handjob continued hard and fast. I’d been close to coming minutes before, as we fucked, and I was right back on that edge again now.
In an attempt to prolong the feeling and stop myself blowing, I asked, “When is the wedding?”
“Two weeks,” Jen answered, beating me off faster. “Will you come?”
I was about to cum, and Jen knew it, which was why when she released my cock I moaned a complaint far too loud for a public location. “…Jen…”
“Will you come?” Jen repeated as she roughly fingered my arse, deliberating stimulating my prostate, which managed to push me over the edge into an orgasm.
“Oooooaaahhh,” I moaned louder, looking down at my cock, as it flexed and strained by itself, with cum dribbling from the tip so slowly as to be almost painful; it felt like an orgasm, but I wasn’t cumming properly.
I reached for my cock, desperate to draw the cum out, but Jen batted my hand away, “No, leave it, just focus on the stimulation in your arse,” as her penetrated finger continued massaging my prostate.
We both watched on as my cock strained, my orgasm continuing, but the cum only flowed as a dribble. I could feel my balls straining and arsehole tightening around Jen’s finger, my body desperate for more stimulation.
My cock sagged a little, yet still fully erect, signalling to Jen that my orgasm was over, and she gripped the shaft lovingly, gently beginning her masturbation again.
Kissing my ear, she asked, “Will you come to the wedding?”
What she was doing was a form of torture, and I could only answer, “Of course I’ll come.”
Jen kissed my neck again, saying, “You’re such as good boy,” and she began to aggressively wank my cock again, all the while continuing to finger my arse and prostate.
“Jen, I don’t think I can…” but she didn’t pay the slightest attention to my words, concentrating only on jacking my cock off.
The sensation, so close to my first orgasm, was something different, but the motion of her finger brought me straight back to the point of no return. I’d not cum back-to-back so quickly since masturbating as a teenager, and this time Jen was relentless and beat me off in an agricultural fashion.
I felt my balls constraining as I sprayed a full load of cum all over the bathroom stall, with Jen seeming to make every effort to get it everywhere and despoil the dirty bathroom stall even further.
“Mmmh,” Jen purred, before raising her voice to full volume, no doubt for the benefit of anyone who might have come into the bathroom while I’d been distracted, “I think we’ve found someone else who likes it up the arse… now piss for me; I want to hold your cock and make a mess as you do it… oh, and I dare you not to cum again until the day of the wedding…”
****
As well as demanding a two-week abstinence, Jen had given me strict instructions for the day of the wedding itself: a dark suit and shirt were required, underwear was not; a return train ticket to some previously unknown village in Shropshire should be purchased, a hotel room should not; I was to follow her lead in every social interaction, with nothing more than a held hand between us.
The wedding of Jen’s cousin – Courtney – was taking place at some historical stately home, the former residence of a Duke if the website was to be believed, which had now been converted into a country house hotel, with its expansive grounds still beautifully maintained, and obviously intended to be part of the wedding venue experience.
Your didn’t need to work in the hospitality industry to realise that this venue must have cost a bomb, five minutes looking on Google was all the education you’d need, which was why I wasn’t surprised that they’d hired in a taxi company from a nearby town, to ensure any guests arriving by train in the village wouldn’t have difficulty getting to the venue.
I’d texted Jen as the taxi pulled onto the access road of the venue, and she was waiting for me, smiling on the front steps of the large ornate venue, which looked so perfect on this lovely sunny Saturday that it could’ve been a picture drawn from a postcard – it was a most perfect venue for a wedding.
“You made it,” Jen said, smiling, being careful for our bodies not to so much as touch as I stepped from my taxi.”
“Sorry, the train was a little late,” I said, looking Jen over; perfectly toned as always, her hair had been professionally dyed down to a light blonde again, and she was wearing a very conservative full-length dress, which had been created with soft material in a flowing shade of light blue.
I’d splurged on the best new suit I could afford and was glad I’d gone to the effort, if for no other reason than it mirrored the quality of Jen’s dress and surroundings to which I had been invited.
“That’s OK, all you’ve missed is the small talk,” she said. “Come on, the ceremony is about to start in the hall; we’ll have to take a seat at the back so we don’t disturb anyone before Courtney comes in with Uncle Tom, you can meet everyone later, though.”
“Sure, sounds good,” it actually sounded perfect because I still hadn’t figured out exactly what I was going to say to Jennifer’s parents and family.
****
Working my way along the reception line, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries with members of the wedding party, I kept the comments to the standard, “Nice to meet you” – “You must be very proud” – “What a great day for it.”
The groom – Jack – looked well-watered, and I fancied him to be a fair drop along in a bottle of wedding day Whiskey. His tux was beautifully cut, clearly custom-designed for the day, and he had the aura of a man who came from real money.
As we shook hands and exchanged pleasantries, it was clear he had absolutely no fucking clue who I was, and I would be forever filed among the plus-ones who had attended his wedding day.
Courtney, the bride, was something else. To say she looked amazing as she walked down the aisle wasn’t much because I’d never attended a wedding where the bride didn’t glow throughout. Now, though, as I approached her in line, it was clear that she was a beautiful woman on any day.
She had dark hair, which was also Jen’s natural colour, was in her late twenties, had irises of deep brown and was whip skinny, with the exception of her breasts that seemed incredibly large on her slight frame. She could only be a new mum with an amazing personal trainer to have such a body shape.
Jen hadn’t mentioned that Courtney and Jack had kids, and the impression she’d always provided of her extended family had made the idea of children outside of marriage seem completely ridiculous.
Still, what did I care, however Courtney ended up with her breasts, they were spectacular, and her dress had clearly been designed to make sure that you saw every curve of her body. The sleek gown looked tight enough to have been sewn on, and there wasn’t a single crease or line showing, surely indicating that Courtney was completely nude beneath the thin layer of silken fabric.
My thirty seconds with the groom had now passed, as had the older man who was in the lineup before me, so it was time to step along and meet the bride. I brought a smile to my face and tried to formulate a suitably neutral salutation.
“Nice to meet you David,” Courtney said, smiling very warmly. I went for a hand shake, but she surprised me by puling me in for a hug, which I felt compelled to reciprocate.
Our heads were together for only a moment, but it was enough for Courtney to speak in an undertone, “Jennifer tells me you have a big thick cock,” words all spoken in the instance that her head brushed by my ear.
I tried like hell not to let the colour rise to my cheeks as we stepped back from each other, keeping my voice steady as I answered, “Oh, I’m sure she’s exaggerating; Jennifer doesn’t get out of the University much.”
Courtney burst into laughter, which drew the attention of the groom and the guests around us in the reception line, “She was right, you are funny! Well, I’m pleased to meet you, David; I hope I get a chance to see some more of you later.”
Her choice of words was unusual but delivered with ease and so passed muster in polite society, and I responded in kind, “It would be a pleasure, Courtney; congratulations again on your wedding; I don’t ever remember seeing a more beautiful Bride.”
Free from the line, I headed straight to where Jen was waiting for me with two glasses of champagne; taking my flute from her before making sure we couldn’t be overheard, I said, “Please tell me you didn’t bring me here to fuck your cousin on her wedding day?”
Jen smirked at that, clearly having some idea of what prompted my question, “You’d love that, wouldn’t you.”
Looking Jen up and down, she was stunning in her pale blue dress; Courtney only had the edge on her because it was her wedding day, and she was surrounded by a supernatural bridal glow.
“Courtney and her partner… sorry, her husband,” Jen corrected herself, “have been trying to get pregnant for a while now; I just mentioned you to her and told her you’d be happy to help them have a baby.”
“What?!?!” I coughed, choking down half a mouthful of champagne. “Jen… look, I know you…” but words died at the look on her face.
She positively burst into laughter as I caught up with the joke, “The look on your face!
“I invited you because I wanted to introduce you to my family and because I needed a date for the wedding.” Jen glanced back at the reception line, to where her cousin was still shaking hands with the guests as they filed into the room, “She does look great today, I’d totally want to get with her if I were you.”
I measured my words carefully, given the potential for other guests to overhear us, “She…