Smut Marathon 2019: Voting Round 6

Before we get on to the voting round, I want to direct your attention to our sponsors. All sponsors have now been announced, and thanks to them, the winner and two runners up will receive some beautiful prizes. And don’t forget, the very first prize winner is announced after this voting round: the winner of the rankings phase.

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The assignment

For the sixth assignment, the writers had quite some freedom to craft a story, with some minor restrictions. This was a round where writers could really go ‘out of the box’.

A woman wearing a wedding dress, sitting on a bench.The assignment was:

Wedding dress
~ write a sexy flash fiction story ~

Specific requirements:
– The word combination ‘wedding dress’ should be in your story at least once!
– Tip: Flash fiction is a fictional work of extreme brevity that still offers character and plot development.
– Your story is between 450-500 words. No less, no more.
– Give your story a title of 2-4 words (this is not part of the word count required)

What should you do now?

Read all the stories (44) – you have a week to do so – and vote for the three stories you like best. You have to vote for three – no less, no more. Don’t forget to click the ‘Finish Survey’ button when you have made your choice!

Please note:

  • Writers are not allowed to tell anyone which entry they have written!
  • You can only vote once.
  • The voting round closes on 12 July 2019 at 23.00 CET
  • Results of the voting round will be published on this site on 14 July 2019 and then I will announce the author of each story, and the winner of the ranking phase.

One last thing

I know it’s a lot to read and even more to ask, but it would be lovely if you could leave as much feedback as possible on the entries, or to make it more manageable, please leave feedback on the three entries you chose as well as three entries you have not chose. Make sure your feedback is composed in such a way that the writers can learn something from it. This will be highly appreciated.

Enjoy reading and start voting!

~ Marie Rebelle
Image from Pixabay


1) Something Borrowed, Something Blue

I’ve adorned the bodies of Beaufort family brides for decades, my sleek satin sliding over their skin, clinging to their curves. I still remember the first, the anxious virgin who trembled as her groom fumbled with my long row of buttons as he revealed her body, tentatively touched naked skin.

She prolonged the moment of joining him in the marriage bed by carefully laying me over the chaise, smoothing my long, white skirt.

Their innocent groping was short-lived. He grunted, came, slept. She was left unenlightened about the elemental joys of fucking. I watched her delicate hand slide between her thighs where he’d so briefly infiltrated. Heard her soft, stifled gasp of surprise as she discovered the essence of her womanliness.

Beaufort brides since have afforded me the same privilege, have indulged me in the same voyeuristic threesome. Sometimes I’m discarded on the floor in a frenzy of urgency; sometimes I’m carefully hung on the door but always with the perfect vantage point.

Today, it’s Sophie Beaufort’s softly rounded body I’m caressing as she sits with her groom at the bridal table. She fills out my lines to perfection and has foregone underwear so there is nothing between me and her full, lush breasts and their large dark nipples. Nipples that hardened into tight peaks that protruded through my fabric when her husband-to-be called to whisper, ‘I’m going to fuck you in that wedding dress’.

The scent of her arousal still envelops me from the tiny beads of moisture that trickled down her thighs as she momentarily pressed her hand between them, crushing me against her plump, smooth cunt, her sweet nectar soaking into me. Becoming part of me.

Now, as speeches are being made, he slides his arm around her waist, the warmth from his embrace so delicious. The gentle squeeze of his fingers, a promise to us of what’s to come. Then his hand discreetly creeps under my hem. Sophie’s thighs part as he pushes his fingers in. Guests raise their glasses to toast. He withdraws his fingers, dips them into his champagne and offers them to his bride, a few drops falling onto me.

It seems an eternity until we’re alone in their room, the restraint of the day finally abandoned as Sophie grapples with his belt, and purrs at the sight of his turgid cock.

‘That’s what I’ve been wanting all day.’

Me too.

Scooping her up in his arms, he lays Sophie on the bed, pushing me up along her legs until she’s bared to him. Wet and wanting him. Loving him.

I’m crushed between them, between their heat and desire, my fabric sliding across her belly, against his naked chest as he possesses her mouth and her body. The same soft gasp of pleasure that escaped the lips of that first bride’s lips now sighs from Sophie’s in this timeless ritual.

The joining of man and wife. Cock and cunt. Body and heart.


2) Three Nuptial

“Daaave, it’s bad luck to see the bride right before the wedding.”

“Hey, I’m not the one marrying you. Not officially anyway. That’s Del’s job”

“You and I both know we’re already married. You, me and Del. Just not legally. When we made our vows, I meant them.”

Kay giggled as Dave ran his hands across her shoulders and moved in to whisper gently in her ear, instinctively knowing how to make her knees go weak.

“It does mean that I get to have you now… and Del has to wait a few more hours.”

“How is he? You didn’t wear him out last night did you? I bet he’s a nervous wreck this morning.”

“Oh… don’t worry about Del. He was happy, sated and well rested when I left him.”

Kay chuckled, “You boys. I hope you left some for me.”

Dave ran his hands over Kay’s shoulders and down her chest, cupping her breasts, “I bet he can’t wait to get you out of your wedding dress.”

Kay made a feigned attempt at batting him away, “Then you’d better stop and help me get into it. You do know that the something borrowed isn’t supposed to be the bride herself… Oh Fuck it! We’ve got time.”

Kay turned on the spot, stood there in just her white bustier and stockings and planted her mouth over his. Dumbstruck, Dave took a step back, “Whoa! You look amazing!”

“Shut up and come with me.” Kay took Dave’s hand, walking them to the bed, “I think it’s time you showed me if you really ARE the best man.”

On reaching the bed, Dave gently pushed Kay onto her back, “Mmmm. I want a taste first.”

He settled between her thighs and pulling her silky panties to one side, placed his mouth against her mound. His expert tongue making pointed intrusions and lapping at her nub.

“Mmmmm, you’re soooo good at that. What Did I do to deserve the two of you? Don’t answer. You stay right where you are.”

Dave looked across to the bedside clock, “Damn. We’re short on time. Foreplay is gonna have to wait till we’re all together. Fuck, I need you right now.”

He brought himself up, releasing his cock and burying himself in her cunt with one well practised manoeuvre, only to be interrupted be a knock on the door.

“Are you ready Princess?”

“Bugger! Looks like we’ll ALL have to wait till tonight,” Kay whispered in frustration.

Dave quietly sniggered in return, “Oh, they’ll be plenty of buggery tonight. Well It is your day. You get to decide who gets to be lucky Pierre.”

“I should think so too! Now help me into this blasted wedding dress will you? READY IN TEN MINUTES DAD! JUST TOUCHING UP MY MAKE-UP!”

“Haha, I know what you’re touching up. Tell Dave the Vicar needs to see him.”

Kay’s father walked away, muttering to himself, “Kids these days. Huh, you’d think one husband would be enough.”


3) Something old, something new

The day my divorce is finally settled, I celebrate by desecrating my bridal gown. It could perhaps have been salvaged, even with red wine staining the bodice, and a tear in the long, heavy train, but I can’t face the effort. Besides, it might be just as unlucky for the next wearer as it was for me.

“What the fuck is that?” squawks Chris when she catches sight of the dress spread out on the living room floor. “Honey, you are fucked up” she laughs when I explain. This, in Chris-terms, is an accolade. “I’ve always wanted to do a girl in a wedding dress” she grins wickedly, tugging gently on a handful of my hair “On top of it works just as well”. She clasps the back of my head, kisses me hungrily and hard. “Take off your clothes.”

My knees are patterned in red by the brocaded bodice, my hair tied back with strips of lace torn from the skirt hem, to keep it out of my way while I press my face deep between Chris’s thighs. She stands over me, one hand on my head, the fingers of the other spreading herself for my circling tongue. Her legs tremble and her hips jerk, salty, musky come slicks my cheeks and chin. As she sinks to the floor, I wipe my mouth on a handful of satin, mop her dripping cunt with another. She catches my eye and we giggle like children caught with chocolate-smudged mouths.
“On all fours now, babydoll” she commands. “My turn”.

She slides a finger across my gleaming-wet labia, eliciting a gasp and a shiver of delight from me. I drop my head, arch my back, thrust my aching cunt towards her.

“Stuff that into your mouth” she says, pointing to the ruched and ruffled skirts beneath me. “As much as you can”. While I fill my mouth with fabric, her finger moves in languid strokes, smearing and spreading my wetness with the delicacy of a calligrapher’s brush, then sliding inside me, back and forth. Then two fingers, harder and deeper. Three, moving faster. I’m squirming, moaning into the drool-soaked satin crammed behind my teeth. Another finger, and now her hand is moving in short, hard little jabs, jerking muffled gasps from me; a ventriloquist bringing her slutty life-size doll to life. Relentlessly she fucks me, filling and taking, seeking and claiming. A sudden tearing sound, the fabric of my despised dress ripping under our tension. “That’s it, babygirl” she croons, recognising the tautening of my thighs and belly, the tightening of my cunt muscles. “Make some noise. Sing for me”

I spit out the mouthful of material, shudder, howling at the ceiling and ride her hand over the cresting wave. Hot liquid rains from my twitching cunt, patters onto ragged fabric; my first squirt a fitting valediction to the last traces of my unhappy past. The dress is ruined. I am released.


4) The Elopement

Zoë told me she didn’t mind, but I still wish I’d been able to give her the wedding she’d deserved. One where she’d be able to wear a wedding dress, where she’d circle me seven times, where I’d break a cloth wrapped glass under my foot. Not a wedding where it was just the two of us and a humanist minister huddled together in a hotel meeting room. Not a guestless wedding just far enough across the Scottish border so that we were no longer bound by English marriage laws, where I didn’t have to call her my husband during the ceremony, and she didn’t have to call me her wife.

“I’m sorry”, I say afterwards, as we lay side by side on a Holiday Inn mattress. “I wish it had been better than this. You deserve better than this.”

It’s silent between us for a while. And then Zoë turns on her side towards me, running a hand over my cheek, the ends of her fingers slowly teasing the newly growing facial hair.

“It’s perfect”, she says, voice almost a whisper. “It’s perfect because you’re here. Because you’re my husband Jake.”

She kisses me and to start with it’s almost chaste, her lips press softly against mine. But then she kisses me again, mouth open and wanting, and in her kiss I forget everything except the space in between us.

Describing fucking as “making love” had always seemed odd to me before. It was a word for suburbia, for cisgender couples and their white picket fences and their 2.5 children. For people who had never spent years believing that a partner too ashamed to be seen with them in public was the best they could hope for. Making love was never the kind of thing I thought people like us every got to do.

But when I fuck into her, the cheap neoprene straps of my harness digging into my thigh with each thrust, I think I understand the phrase for the very first time. I have no other way to describe it. She looks beyond gorgeous like this, legs bent back and wrapped around me, my cock in her ass and my left hand pressing a vibrator against her soft clit. Each high pitched squeak of the bedsprings is accompanied by long low moans, her clit leaking clear as I press the vibrator against her more firmly.

Zoë still deserves better than a wedding than the one I gave her. But right now it doesn’t matter, because I’m here in this hotel room with her. With my wife. With her arms curled around my back, the black-blue of her hair pooling around her like an oil spill.

“I love you”, I say as I thrust once more, purple silicone head of my cock pressed against her prostate, coaxing the orgasm out of her. And she comes, dry and still soft, drenched in sweat, legs shaking and clenching around me.


5) The Right Places

“I was kind of afraid to stop here,” Elia said.

“Why? Sixteen cats? Underwear in the chandelier?” Gavin replied. Elia laughed.

“No!” She paused, uncertain, then took a deep breath. “I was afraid you’d see Brooke, and that’d be that.”

“What, your roommate? Leaving as we came in?”

“…Yeah.”

Gavin chuckled.

“Nope. Rest easy, El. She’s not my type.”

“Huh. She’s a frickin’ bridal model, Gav. I’ve turned invisible twice on my own dates with her around. She’s everyone’s type.”

“A willow in a wedding dress? Not for me,” he insisted. “I told you before — I’m an old school pin-up kinda guy. Gimme dangerous curves.” His hands pantomimed an hour-glass, and he made a low “Mmmm-hmmm” sound while his eyes traveled her body.

“Soft in all the right places, baby. And sharp where it counts double.” He tapped his temple.

“Flatterer.”

“You know it’s true.”

Elia paused, eyeing him, then seemed to make a decision.

“Do you?” she asked.

“Do I what?”

She stepped away, to the center of the living room.

“Know I’m soft in ‘all the right places’?”

It was Gavin’s turn to be uncertain.

“Well,” he gestured as if indicating her whole self was Exhibit A, “there was last weekend…”

Elia smiled. That had been nice.

“True. I believe you determined exactly how soft these are,” she said, slipping her dress down to reveal a black bustier that did more presenting than supporting.

Gavin let out an appreciative whistle, hands flexing. Elia’s last insecurities burned away under his gaze.

“But I’m not sure,” she said, fingers finding the zipper at her back, “you have enough empirical evidence.”

Her dress fell away, revealing-

“Stockings and garters…” Gavin breathed, reverent. As she deliberately arched to a classic cheesecake pose, then bent to another, he growled.

“Tell me the show tickets didn’t cost too much.”

“Why?” Elia batted an eye at him over her shoulder, hip canted just so.

“Because we’re missing it.” He reached for her, and she backed away, slinking through the doorway of her room.

“No,” she whispered, loosening the bustier as he followed. “We’re not.”

Their kiss lasted long enough for Gavin to lose his jacket and shirt. She gripped his shoulders as his mouth explored, then devoured her breasts. His hands found and drew her panties down.

“Dangerous curves,” he purred, moving lower as she sighed.

“Mmm-hm. Soft,” he kissed and licked her inner thigh just above her stocking.

“…in all the right places,” his tongue slithered to her slit, and swiped up to her clit.

“Oh!”

“And sweet as can be.”

When he repeated the trip from the other thigh she nearly lost it. When he threatened more teasing meanderings, she grabbed him by the hair and held him in place until she did, completely.

Eventually, languidly, she released him, and sank back on her bed, eyes sultry.

“Your turn, Mr. Pin-up,” Elia grinned.

And Gavin showed her he was hard in all the right places.


6) One Last Time

Carl adjusted the backpack as he hiked into the Suicide Forest. He shouldn’t have come alone, but this was his last day in Japan and he had to try one last time. Wind rustled the branches, but there were no birds to break the silence. He shivered, but pressed forward as his heart thumped wildly. From within the depths of the forest, Carl heard her voice. His fiancée, Claudia, was singing.

If I die young, bury me in satin. Lay me down on a bed of roses.

Her voice drew him forward; off the path and into bushes that scratched his face and arms. Carl had a mindless need to see, touch and be near the voice. He remembered their first date, eating ice cream at an old picnic table back home. When they kissed, she tasted like strawberries.

Sink me in the river at dawn. Send me away with the words of a love song.

None of this made any sense, but in his gut, Carl knew that it was Claudia. The woman who had stolen his heart with a smile and whose touch made his body react. He’d almost given up hope, but she was still here. Not paying attention, he tripped over a root. The singing stopped.

Carl quickly stood up, searching the forest for any sign of her. As he turned around, there she was.

“Claudia?”

Long, red hair curled wildly around her face as she smiled. Her skin was translucent in the dim light beneath the trees and she was wearing a wedding dress. It was the one she’d picked out before traveling to Japan with her friends; before getting lost here, in Suicide Forest.

They raced into each other’s arms. Carl ran his hands over her back, one palm curling behind her neck as he pulled her in for a kiss. Carl lost himself in the pleasure of her body against his. He wanted to touch every part of Claudia and know that she was his again. It had been so long. They pulled at each other’s clothing and they fell to the forest floor. She whispered in his ear,

“Take me.”

She grasped his cock and ran her fingertip over the drop of cum at the tip and put it to her lips. Claudia’s eyes sparkled as she flipped him onto his back. She knelt and took him into her mouth as he writhed beneath her.

Carl almost released with the warm heat of her lips. He struggled to get up, but she held him down. She smiled cruelly as she rammed her fingers into his ass. Carl gasped with surprise and for the first time, he could see her true form. She was creature of the woods, made of bark, branch and flowers and she wanted to keep him and make him part of herself; part of the woods. She spread herself over him and they became one.

As he cried out with release, Carl could feel his flesh change.


7) The End

We looked at each other over the tops of our wine glasses and I noted the lipstick on mine. I wished it was on his lips.

The tension had been growing between us for months. Little remarks here and there that did little except to put the other on edge. A lot of “nevers” and “always”, angry outbursts of yelling followed by icy silences. We weren’t doing well for a couple that prided themselves on being more communicative and thoughtful than the rest.

“Listen,” I started, “Why don’t we –” he cut me off.

“I don’t want to do this anymore.” We’d been talking for hours each night over the course of weeks; I could understand his fatigue.

And then I stopped breathing as I realized he might mean something other than talking and I took another sip, kissing my lipstick on the cool glass, waiting.

“It’s not working. We’re not working. You can’t deny that.”

I shook my head. No, I couldn’t. It really wasn’t.

His hand covered mine on the base of my wine glass and squeezed and when I looked there were tears in his eyes. My heart raced as he pulled me to my feet and into his arms. This was it.

I inhaled the scent of his clean shirt and reveled in the heat of his skin through the cotton, a sob caught in my throat. I pulled him closer and felt a bulge against my hip bone. A shiver ran through me and he made a noise as he buried his nose in my hair.

I turned my face into his neck and nipped at his five o’clock shadow. Without one more word our lips found each other and we kissed long, slow and deep. Our hands roamed unhurriedly, deliberately. I felt every belt loop and thread of denim, every curve and plane.

I broke the kiss and led him to our room. Piles of clothes lay strewn about, proof of my industriousness to clean out our closet. It smelled like our favorite candle: lilacs and vetiver and moss. I also thought it smelled like heartbreak.

We no longer took our time, our movements intense and focused. His cock mine, in my hand and mouth, my pussy wet and throbbing for his searching fingers.

He spun me around and knelt behind me, spread my cheeks and buried his face in my center. His tongue plunged hot and thick and I wiggled back onto him. I clutched at the clothes on my bed and braced myself for him to enter me.

He moaned and took fistfuls of my fleshy hips to move me on him. We bucked and moved against one another; my tits swung and my nipples scraped on satiny fabric. My body turned inside out as my bygone love emptied himself in to me, a searing and messy end to our love story.

As we disconnected, I saw what I had laid beneath me on the bed. It was my wedding dress.


8) Husband and Wife

The train stopped briefly at just gone midnight and I alighted. It was a mistake.

I found myself in an empty street populated by giant rats. They were only paintings on the walls of deserted houses but in the sickly glow from the nearby power station they appeared menacing.

A man stepped abruptly out of a doorway and sucked in the air.

‘I’m just closing,’ he said, as if to a friend. ‘Are you looking for a bed for the night?’

‘Yes. And some food if possible.’

I followed the man into his front room. His shirt was unbuttoned and drenched in sweat.

‘Sit yourself there. I’ve got a lamb tagine somewhere and a bottle of Muscadet. Just the one night is it?’

‘I should think so.’

While he disappeared out the back I watched the television. Volleyball from Uzbekistan. The picture was fuzzy so eventually I got up and banged the set just as the man returned with my food and wine.

‘You can hit it as hard as you like but it’ll have no effect. It’s knackered, just like me and the rest of this town.’

‘This tagine is very tasty. You’re a good cook.’

‘Not me. My wife.’

He passed me a small photo, taken from his wallet, of an attractive dark-haired young woman in her wedding dress. I held it reverently.

‘She’s beautiful don’t you think?’

‘Yes. Very.’

‘Why don’t you tell her yourself. She’s upstairs. She’ll be so pleased to see you.’

‘Are you sure?’

‘Yes. You’ll give her immense pleasure. Now come on.’

She was not as young as in the photograph but vestiges of her beauty remained. She was lying on the bed in her faded wedding dress, propped up by a mountain of pillows.

‘Look who’s here. It’s Julian. I told you he’d come.’

‘Did he fix the television?’

‘Yes. It’s pin sharp now.’

I made to go. I was still hungry and there was a tagine to finish.

‘Don’t leave so soon,’ she pleaded

The man closed the door and motioned me towards the bed.

‘It’s all right Julian. He likes to watch.’

‘But I’m not Julian.’

‘I know. But I call all my lovers Julian. It’s convenient.’

As I wondered how many Julians there had been, she undid my flies and pulled out my cock. Within seconds her adroit sucking had me pimped and ready.

Her husband ambled over and deferentially pulled up her dress. She was wearing no knickers and my cock twitched at the sight of her vulva with its fulsome lips.

He returned to the door and I sank my cock into her cunt.

‘Don’t forget Julian, when you come, I want it over my dress. Just like last time and all the times before. You remember?’

I nodded.

And then, I could have sworn, I heard the door being locked.


9) Congratulating Eve

Eve awoke with a smile on her face before her eyes could even focus on the digital clock next to the bed.

9:04

She was surprised to learn she’d woken so early considering they didn’t make it back until almost five this morning. Reaching up to rub her eyes she spotted a thin piece of white fabric. As she slowly plucked the strip from her arm, thoughts of last night warmed her skin.

It was a beautiful wedding — small, just as they’d planned. An intimate group of friends with whom they wanted to share their union, and of course celebrate after. They’d exchanged their vows on a secluded beach, so secluded that the only person who wore any clothes at the ceremony was Eve, in her soft, white, gauzy wedding dress.

Fingering the strip of gauze, her face flushed as she remembered what happened directly after the ceremony.

Her new husband held her face in his hands and whispered into her ear that he had a special wedding gift for Eve and she was about to receive it. As soon as the words left his mouth, she felt hands gently touching her. Turning to look over her shoulder she found herself surrounded by people she loved, running their hands across her skin, congratulating her, sharing in her joy.

The gentle touching quickly escalated, tearing the fabric from her body, ripping her dress to shreds exposing her naked skin. Fingers pinched her nipples, gripping and squeezing her skin making her groan out in pain and appreciation.

Looking down, now, at her hardening nipples, Eve couldn’t help but touch them and gasp at how tender they still were.

After stripping her, the wedding party laid her down onto a large blanket. Mouths closed over her nipples and cunt immediately, a cock appeared in front of her face and forced its way into her mouth. Overwhelmed by pleasure she felt tears of joy streaming down her face as she sucked and licked gleefully, gratefully.

“Come here, my beautiful bride” Eve heard her lover say and everyone backed away, letting her follow her new husband’s command for the very first time.

She crawled to him as he reclined onto the blanket. Climbing on top of him felt so exciting, they’d fucked a thousand times before, but this, the first time as husband and wife, was special. Eve, slippery from the previous attention, slipped her pussy over his hard cock slowly, easily.

He pulled her to him, wrapping his hands around her neck and whispered again into her ear, words that she was sure she would never, ever forget.

“Lean over me so I can feel these men fuck my wife.”

Eve managed to respond with a groan as she did what she was told, not having to wait long before she felt a hard, slick cock pressing at the entrance to her ass as she rode her new husband. She couldn’t have imagined a better start to a beautiful marriage to a man she loved.


10) Urban Explorers

Viarto paused at the bottom of the stairs. Liana jumped down from the half-landing, bypassing him. He shook his head.

“So sure you’d land safely?”

She grinned, swiping a dark curl away from her eyes. “You’d’ve warned me if the floor wasn’t sturdy.”

“I’d have called it to you as you fell through three floors and broke your neck.”

Unconcerned, she strode ahead, excitement palpable as her torch swept the hallway of the abandoned mansão. “I’ve never found anything before!” she said. “Nothing that wasn’t obviously trash.”

“This isn’t trash,” he promised.

They turned into the room. Nothing was visible from the entrance; he’d relocked the hidden closet door when he left, in case one of their friends beat him back.

Liana bounced on her toes, waiting for him to reopen it. He took his time, teasing her.

“Vee-ar-to,” she whined, swatting his shoulder.

He swiveled his pick with a flourish. The narrow door swung open.

Her torch pierced the darkness and she gasped when their prize caught the light, sparkling with little ‘jewels,’ even under decades of dust.

“Pretty as I said?” he asked.

“Oh!” she breathed, moving past him, her hands hovering without touching the aged material. “It’s not a ballgown—it’s a wedding dress.” Hushed, as if being loud would disturb it somehow.

“How can you tell?”

“How can you not?”

He shrugged. “It’s old-fashioned.”

“And you know fashion?” She frowned, moving to stare him down from over the stump of the dress form’s neck. “I’d look beautiful in it.” She spread her arms to appear around the lacy sleeves.

“You make everything beautiful,” he said, without thinking.

She blinked. Then smiled. “Meu tesouro.”

He grinned but looked away.

She started humming. Her eyes shut, she whirled gracefully around the dress, torchlight spinning, her arms still spread as if holding out the full, jeweled skirts.

He caught her as she danced by him and she opened her eyes slowly to meet his. Still, she surprised him, going up on her toes, kissing him. He wrapped his arms around her, but she caught one of his hands and slid it into her shirt, over the warm swell of one breast.

His cock jumped. He could feel her nipple through the thin cup of her bra.

“What? Here?” he asked.

She giggled, his querida ousada. “Oh, yeah,” she said, flicking her torch off and letting it fall, sliding that suddenly free hand down into the waistband of his jeans.

“Fuck,” he hissed, at the brush of her fingertips.

“Yes…” she murmured, unbuttoning his fly.

He let her, dropping his torch without turning it off, sliding both his hands under her shirt, and then under her bra, pushing it all up so he could hold her sweet breasts in his hands. She moaned at the pass of his thumbs across her tits, briefly fumbling his zipper.

“Oh, meu querido,” she said.

“Darling fiance,” he corrected.

“Meu noivo querido,” she echoed, grinning, her hot hand working him free of his jeans.


11) White Dress

Erik followed Paolo along the rocky path, humidity plastering his t-shirt to his back.

“There!” Paolo exclaimed, stopping abruptly and waving at the tumble of ruined buildings they’d hiked all this way to see. “Isn’t it something?”

It made no sense, the vaguely castle-shaped pile of rocks stranded there in the middle of the Missouri woods, yet there it stood, rooms with stone walls and no roof, archways reaching high overhead that framed trees towering beyond. They stepped inside.

Something flickered at the edge of Erik’s vision. He turned his head; saw nothing unusual through the window arch. Trees, branches, leaves. But wait – there it was. White, fluttering just beyond the wall.

“Paolo–” he said, but Paolo was nowhere to be found.

“Hey!” he called. “Hello?”

He passed through an archway and stopped in stunned silence when he saw who – or what – was there. A white dress, hanging from a branch. A wedding dress.

At least he thought it was hanging. The next moment it was not: the next moment there was a woman standing there in it. Her hair flowed down her back in a red tangle, her skin milky white, her mouth wide and beestung, and her eyes–

Erik thought he would fall into their sky blue depths.

The woman beckoned him. She had been crying, he could see that now. He followed, transfixed. What else could he do?

She moved swiftly, twisting through the woods, oftentimes only a flash of white or red.

Then, suddenly, she was there in front of him. They had reached an expanse of open ground, a high, treeless, bluff. She sat before him, beckoning him with her eyes, with the quiver of her lips. Wordlessly, he approached. She lifted her hair from her neck; presented him with the long line of pearl buttons down her back. His hands trembled as he knelt behind her, began unbuttoning them. Unable to help himself, he pressed his lips to the soft skin his fingers caressed. She leaned into him; the dress pulled away, revealing full breasts. She turned, pulling the dress down and lay back. He couldn’t take his eyes away from her alabaster skin. She reached for his hand, brought it to her mouth. Circled his fingers with her tongue. She opened her legs and pulled him toward her.

Erik groaned with a sudden, fierce need. Desire pounded in him, his cock strained against his shorts; he fumbled to release it. He wanted nothing more than to fall into her, to drown in her.

He heard a shout, felt a hand dragging him back. “What are you doing?” Paolo cried. “Are you crazy?”

Erik blinked, confused. As though waking from a dream, he stared down at the dress, crumpled and dirty in front of him where he knelt at the cliff’s edge. He looked wildly around at Paolo. “I– Where–?”

And then a breeze caught the dress and it billowed up and over the edge, where it drifted, spinning like a body, slowly down.


12) Something Old

It was the morning of the big day. Alexis had been a bridesmaid, so she knew how long a wedding day was. Hours of waiting. She slipped out of bed, too excited to sleep. She pulled off her nightgown and went about squeezing herself into her wedding dress, just to see herself in it again.

In front of the full-length mirror, she turned, holding the unlaced corset in place. She looked like a princess.

She spun when she heard her door open without a knock. Her breath caught when she saw it was Mark.

It had been years. She didn’t think he knew about her wedding. They had been lovers, back when she had just started college. He was part of the world she was leaving behind.

He walked towards her without a word, and she moved back until she was against the wall. She looked down, unable to meet his eyes.

“Should I leave?”

She shook her head ever so slightly, “no”.

“So this is it, my girl all ready to walk down the aisle. Ready to forget all about me.”

“I could never forget you,” she whispered.

He pushed her against the wall and knelt in front of her, growling as he pulled up her petticoats.

“Waxed bare? What a little slut you are for him.”

She felt a rush of blood to her face. The familiar embarrassment that kept her coming back to Mark.

He opened his mouth wide and covered her whole pussy with it. She gasped as the heat of his mouth woke up her still half asleep body. He moaned into her. He’d always loved the taste of her. Then as sudden as he started, he stopped. He stood up and turned her around.

“We don’t have time. They’ll come for you soon, to cover you in flowers and give you away to him,” he spat the last word.

She heard his belt. The memories of his thick cock filled her mind.

She pressed her forehead to the wall and felt her body tense and ready for him. She whimpered in need.

He pulled up her dress again, and she put her hands on the wall. He pressed against her and put one hand on hers. She pushed her ass back against him, aching for him one more time.

He slipped his cock into her, and she yelled into the wall.

Their bodies fell into a rhythm, the rhythm they had both missed. Their bodies just fit together, in a way, neither of them had experienced before or after. She loved his cock, and he had never been with anyone who got so wet.

When she came, it was like thunder. She banged on the wall and cried. Then she pressed back and let him use her until he came too.

Then, somehow, they were both on the floor. They kissed for the first time in so long. When she started to cry, it felt as intense as her orgasm.

“Remember me.”

“Always.”


13) Group shot

‘Was it everything you wanted?’

Erin and Dean swayed in each other’s arms, dancing to the final songs as the band packed up behind them. The skirts of her elaborate wedding dress swung around them as they moved, rustling against the shiny dance floor.

She looked up and kissed her new husband.

‘It was everything, and more!’

‘Excellent! Although it’s not over yet – I have one more surprise.’

Dean led her away from the reception and into another part of the hotel. He opened a door and gestured her to follow him inside.

It was empty except for a low couch in the middle. Following his direction, Erin lay on it, spreading the folds of her gown around her so she could lie comfortably.

‘God, you look incredible. Like a flower unfurling its petals.’ Dean grinned, his eyes shining with love and something else. Something mischievous and enticing.

‘Do you remember when we talked about fantasies last month?’

As Dean was speaking, Finn, his best man, came into the room followed by a couple more groomsmen, some of Dean’s friends who were at the wedding, some who weren’t, and some others that Erin didn’t recognise. In total, around 30 men now stood in a circle around her.

‘Do you remember what you wanted? What you told me you’d always dreamed about?’

Erin looked from man to man and felt a rolling rush of arousal flood through her, flowing out and down her thighs as she realised what Dean had in mind.

‘Yes.’

‘And do you still want it?’

She pressed herself back into the couch, spreading out her dress to make a bigger target.

‘Oh yes!’

One by one, and then all in a rush, the men unzipped their trousers and pulled out their cocks. Lube was passed around and soon these 30 or so men were all jerking off for her.

When the first wetness hit her, Erin gasped. It landed on her collarbone, shot from a man standing above her head and out of sight. She could hear his breathing, hear the slick sliding on his lubed hand on his cock but she couldn’t see any part of him until his cum was hitting her body.

It wasn’t long before the next man came – George the usher who had been looking at her strangely expectantly all day. He was by her side and was pumping so vigorously that he spread jizz right across her stomach, creating delicate glittering trails on the satin bodice. Erin reached up, touching the cooling fluid and rubbing it into the fabric.

Soon spunk began to rain over her, streaking her face and hair, decorating her dress and body. She was drowning in it; drowning in the sounds, the smells. Drowning in their adoration, their desire. Each new splash made her feel more beautiful, each new adornment made her feel more powerful.

She was a goddess, dressed in lace and satin and spunk, revealed on the happiest day of her life.


14) Let’s Make A Deal

“PLEASE HELP!”

Marlene shrieked loudly, as she barely got through the door, carrying an armful of white material, stiff with embroidery, and strewn with pearls.

The young tailor approached and before he could say a single word, the woman started again.

“I’M DESPERATE… I NEED YOUR HELP… PLEASE!” she exclaimed, not as loud as before but absolutely with the same urgency. She extended her arms, offering up the pouf.

“Good afternoon ma’am. I’d love to help, but I’m the only one here, and I’m really swamped.” He took her bundle and examined the torn tulle. If you leave this here, I can have it ready by morning.

“That won’t do,” she urged. “The ceremony is in two hours and this wedding dress is ruined! I’ll pay anything – please help!”

As Josh lay the dress on his work table to assess it further, Marlene heard a woman’s voice emanating from the back, where he initially came from. It was barely recognizable… it got louder… it was moaning! HE’D BEEN WATCHING PORN! Swamped? Really? Panicked as she was, she switched gears and moved next to him.

Marlene was excited about the wedding and was wearing her favorite LBD, that she referred to as her hottie dress. At 48, she looked much younger, and was almost twice Josh’s age. Dark brunette hair pulled up high showcased her slender neckline, and long tanned legs led everyone’s eyes straight to her ankle-strapped stilettos.

As Josh examined the defiled white dress, she touched his arm, sliding down to his hand, like a cougar toying with her prey. His eyes turned to hers, as she whispered a new and pleasant tone, “Please help me.”

He looked at her body as her hands migrated to his crotch. She felt him grow through his shorts, and while she couldn’t believe she was doing this, she knew she couldn’t stop. The middle of a tailor shop was not the ideal setting to perform, but she dropped to her knees, unzipped his fly, and glanced up to see him nod as he mouthed the words, “I’ll help.”

She grasped his cock and pulled it free, guiding it toward her plump red lips. Inhaling deeply, she lowered her mouth onto him. He wasn’t huge, but it felt so good to have a hard cock in her mouth once again. Pausing briefly to release her tits from her dress, she began moving up and down, sucking with purpose until he was drenched in saliva and rigid as a steel bar. He watched her every move.

In less than a minute, his moaning mimicked his porno, and he was close. His breathing was heavy and his cock throbbed as he instinctively thrust his hips forward and backward. She tightened her lips and tasted his hot salty cum. After several blasts he relaxed, leaning against the table to recover. She swallowed as he slipped out.

“W-W-WOW!” he stammered. “Give me 20 minutes and you’ll have your dress, good as new. On the house.”


15) Second Thoughts

The thud of her hotel room door slamming drew Hannah from the bathroom. She walked into the bedroom, surprised to see Miranda standing there.

“Girl, you’re supposed to be getting your reveal photos taken. What are you doing here?” she asked, hands on her hips.

While Hannah was wearing only a red bra and panties, Miranda was wearing a frothy wedding dress. Her hair was swept up into a mass of curls studded with crystal hair pins that matched the tiara perched on her auburn tresses.

Miranda’s lip quivered. “The pictures are done Han, please don’t yell at me. I’m not sure this is a good idea. I love Jason but I love you too. How can you be okay with this? It feels like I’m choosing my lover over my Mistress. I’m about to call it all off. Tell me this is the right thing to do.”

Hannah moved to her submissive. This wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation. She wrapped her arms around Miranda, the woman’s head resting on her shoulder.

“Shhh baby. I know you love me. I also know we both love Jason, and how he feels about us. This isn’t choosing him over me. You two being married makes me so happy. I was there when you fell in love. I’ve been there every step of this relationship. I will be here for all the future steps,” she crooned, gently rocking the trembling bride. She pulled back to look into Miranda’s green eyes. She wasn’t getting through. Her girl needed more than verbal encouragement.

“Miranda. Skirt up. Assume the position. You are going to count, and you will not mess up your hair or makeup. Do you understand?” she said sternly.

“Yes Mistress,” Miranda said with a gulp. She positioned herself on the bed, skirts pulled up to reveal the globes of her ass barely covered by her lace panties. Hannah paused for a moment to admire the view, then shook herself. Now was not the time to think about fucking the girl into a sweaty mess.

“Good girl. I think ten will be enough. Don’t forget to count, or I’ll start over. You don’t want to make Jason wait do you?” she asked before delivering the first stroke.

Miranda jumped, the crack echoing off the walls worse than the actual slap had been. She called out each impact, her body both tensing and relaxing as they got progressively harder. There was a long shuddering sigh after the tenth.

Hannah pulled her upright, smoothing her dress before taking Miranda in her arms again. There was a noticeable change in the other woman’s breathing and posture.

“Now my girl, you have a groom waiting for you, and I still have to get dressed. Don’t think there won’t be punishment if I’m late for the wedding of my favorite people,” she whispered before turning the bride to the door with a gentle push. Miranda smiled over her shoulder before walking out.


16) Citizen XXX

Izzy and Liam married in winter before a small congregation which, at the end of the ceremony, was joined by two stern immigration officers. Izzy had run straight from that church, packed her bag and fled.

Of course, she hadn’t wanted to leave. She’d wanted to fall on her knees and take Liam’s smooth cock – a cock she now co-owned – into her filthy, cuss-strewn mouth. But that wasn’t part of the plan.

Two years and one new government later she waited at a damp railway platform and hoped Liam would still recognise her. She wore the wedding dress from that day, to aid his memory. A passing train forced the thin, white material against her curves.

Her hair was now short and brown, her skin tanned and her character toughened even harder than before. Only the dress and her love for him remained from that previous life. A strap-on dangled from the black-polished tips of her fingers.

Liam appeared, still heart-thumpingly, cunt-throbbingly delicious. He recognised her immediately and smiled that electrifying smile. He’d co-authored this plan and so knew he’d meet her right here, right now.

“Cute dress,” Liam said in his gruff voice, before scooping her into his strong arms, “Oh baby, I missed you so much.”
“Liam Reeves, you gorgeous motherfucker, I…”

A sob choked her words. Tears fuelled by the sorrow of lost years, the anger at deplorable authorities and the joy of reunion, mingled with fresh rain.

“…I wanna fuck you so hard,” Izzy eventually continued, oblivious to the precipitation.
“Thought you might. I got a room nearby.”

It was a room worthy of lovers reuniting after long years apart; distant views over the dripping city and a king-sized bed in front of a massive window. Izzy pulled a phone from her bra and selected her Metallica playlist. She let her betrothed kiss the demon tattoo on her neck, then tore off his clothes and pushed him onto the bed.

“If I gotta put up with your country’s immigration fuckery, you gotta take it up the ass,” she declared whilst stepping out of her dress and into the strap-on harness.
“Yeah yeah, I remember the rule,” Liam replied, handing her some lube.
“Atta boy, now bend over so I can consummate this marriage.”

He turned his muscular body and offered himself to her. The lube-slicked strap-on felt cold between his cheeks, his tight pink aperture offered some resistance before succumbing to her persistent push.

The toy’s base teased her with each thrust and she knew she’d reach ecstasy before him. Watching his longed-for cock and balls swing along with the rhythm she dictated expedited her orgasm. She lustfully stroked him as dizzying joy swept through her.

“You never stopped being mine, my giant, beautiful fucktoy,” Izzy grunted as she slid in and out, willing on more pleasure and hungry to have him inside her.
“I’ll always be yours baby.”

She shed more tears, which pattered on his taut, well-fucked butt.


17) Prenuptial Pussy

“Jesus, Steven,” I groaned, my fingers intertwined in his golden hair. His face was buried between my legs, and his artfully moving tongue was making my clit throb. I squirmed.

They say it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride on their wedding day before the ceremony, but Steven didn’t believe in luck. What he did believe in was making me deliriously horny and deliciously happy. I think he’d eat me out 24 hours a day if he could.

An hour ago I’d felt butterflies fluttering in my stomach. I’d been looking forward to this day for several months, ever since Steven proposed. Whenever I gazed into his deep brown eyes, my heart would start beating madly. I wanted to be his forever.

Lost in thought as I brushed my hair in the mirror, I didn’t hear Steven enter the room, but suddenly I smelled his cologne. Looking up, I smiled at him in the glass as he came up behind me, encircling me with his arms and holding me close.

“You shouldn’t see me yet.”

“I couldn’t wait,” he said, nuzzling my neck. “Sit down. I want to taste you.”

Sliding out of his arms, I moved to the dressing table’s chair. My wedding dress had an enormous skirt that I didn’t want wrinkled, so I gathered up as much as I could before sitting down, bunching yards of fabric around my waist.

Steven knelt before me and slid his thumbs under the sides of my thong. I lifted my hips so he could slide them down.

“I’ll take these for something borrowed,” he said, slipping them into his pants pocket.

I laughed. “I think that’s only for the bride,”

“Slide down a bit.” I wiggled my rear to the edge of the chair and leaned back in anticipation.

Steven’s breath on my shaven mound made me moan, and when his tongue began to caress my clit I felt an electric jolt. I grasped his head and pulled him closer, grinding myself into his face. Steven’s lips closed over my clit and he began to suck gently, then harder, as he could feel my muscles clenching.

I bit back my cries as I came over and over, my body tense, each orgasm penetrating me and filling me with ecstasy. Just as I thought I could take no more, my entire body shuddered. From far away I felt Steven release my clit and begin slowly licking me, bringing me down slowly. I sighed contentedly, loose and relaxed. My hands slid from Steven’s hair and he raised his head.

“I’d best go,” he said, standing up and straightening his tie and jacket. “We’ve got about 15 minutes.” He kissed me on my forehead and left.

I picked up my brush and finished fixing my hair, then checked my makeup. I was ready. Rising, I adjusted my dress and then left the room, just a bit breathless, to where my father waited to walk me down the aisle.


18) The Hitchhiker

Her boot heels made a clicking sound against the hot dry road. She shielded her eyes against the flat harsh sun and licked her lips, tasting salt and dirt. A car motor purred in the distance and she turned and watched as a small blue car swept over the hills and disappeared around turns until finally she could see it approaching, shimmering in and out of the heat waves coming off the blacktop.

“Hey miss, you need a ride?”

“Thank God, yes!” she said as she opened the car door.

The driver had long legs wrapped in faded blue jeans and a worn baseball cap shading his face. Bearded scruff covered his cheeks and he held out a plastic bottle of water. She grabbed the bottle and drank half of it in one continuous gulp, feeling her whole mouth soften as the clear liquid rinsed away the dirt.

“Thank you,” she stammered.

“No problem,” he said with a grin, taking in her long bare legs and dusty cowboy boots. “It’s hot out there. Where you headed?”

“Anywhere else,” she said.

He nodded and drove, the parched landscape sliding by. She leaned back against the seat and idly stroked the soft skin of her thigh, feeling the dust coating her skin. As she looked over at the driver, his eyes followed her fingers. She felt a little jolt deep in her belly and pushed the edge of her skirt up just a little, watching him until his eyes met hers before flickering back to the road.

He chuckled, “That looks enjoyable. Please don’t let me stop you.”

“Keep driving,” she whispered and spread her legs, feeling her nipples harden under her damp cotton dress. Her fingers slipped under the edge of her skirt and found the lace of her panties, wet with sweat and heat. She watched the driver as his eyes alternated between her hidden hands and the long dusty road. The bulge grew in his denim jeans as her fingers found her clit and circled it softly.

Her pussy lips swelled in the tight confines of her panties and she ground down into the seat and her fingers, panting as her orgasm built. She finally used the heel of her hand and cried out as she came, feeling a gush of liquid spurt onto the seat.

“God damn,” he growled, his fingers gripping the steering wheel, steering the car back over the center line. “That was so fucking hot.”

She sighed and stretched back against the seat, dress bunched up around her hips and her fingers covered with her juices. “I’ve been needing that ever since I ran out this morning,” she said.

She pulled her skirt back down her legs, spreading the pink flowered cotton smooth against her damp thighs. “It’s my wedding dress,” she said. “Isn’t it pretty?”

He looked at her but she leaned her head against the window and didn’t say anything more. So he looked back at the road and kept driving.


19) Satin, Silk, and Lace

Charlotte’s fingers ached as the candles threatened to burn out. Her stomach growled but she ignored her discomfort, determined to finish the flounces on the marchioness’s wedding dress. Scarcely two weeks hence, it was to be a magnificent affair; rumors swirled that at least one prince would attend. All the seamstresses were reminded of potential illustrious new clientele. Charlotte was not about to let the opportunity go to waste; as the sole collaborator with the generous and talkative marchioness, her own fortune was tied to the bride’s satisfaction.

She yawned and sewed her tiny stitches into the cream satin. Notoriously difficult to work with, Charlotte was among the few seamstresses in town who knew how to manage it. Speed would yield nothing but mistakes.

“Still here?”

Luckily, Charlotte hadn’t started another stitch, or her startled jump might have created a tear in the dress. Taking a calming breath, she answered, “Yes, Maggie. I’m still here.”

Maggie, a young Irishwoman, was among the best lace makers in London. Her lily-of-the-valley scalloped lace was all the rage among the season’s debutantes. Fortune-hunting bachelors swarmed the shop and spent their precious remaining notes on delicate handkerchiefs bearing the same trim; with her easy laugh, buxom figure, and deep auburn hair, Charlotte also suspected that the gentlemen weren’t merely interested in Maggie’s craftsmanship.

Soft footfalls crossed the room. The hairs on the back of Charlotte’s neck stood on end. She inhaled deeply and was overwhelmed with the heady scent of orange blossom. Delicate, warm breath danced on her neck: “Dear, the flounce can wait.”

The small muscles deep within her core clenched. She closed her eyes and recalled the secret, profane passions they’d shared the previous night: soft lips, silken hair, sensitive flesh. Discipline won out and she pricked the fabric again, completing another stitch. This gown will secure my reputation and our future.

“Much as I wish to taste you, darling, I can’t.”

Warm hands covered her shoulders, easing the aches. The palms were not soft, Charlotte allowed herself to close her eyes.

“You work too hard, dearest one.”

“I do it so we can have our own shop. You know that.”

“And I love you all the more for it. Please, Charlotte. It pains me to see you strain your eyes and fingers.”

Charlotte sighed and stopped her needle in the line of stitches. Letting her hands drop to her sides, she leaned further back into her chair, Maggie’s skirts enveloping her head.

“What if the bride prefers my veil?” came the seductive whisper.

Charlotte smiled gratefully as Maggie’s hand closed over her breast. “Your success is my success,” she replied while inching her hand underneath the other woman’s skirts.

Maggie reached over Charlotte’s shoulder and picked up a large scrap of satin. “I’ve been dreaming about teasing your nipples with this.”

Charlotte moaned and tightened her hold on Maggie’s leg.

The ladies took their pleasure in each other long after the candles burnt out.


20) Late at Night

This late at night, the street was empty. The clicking of Mara’s heels echoed through the dark, and she gripped Rory’s hand tight. They paused in front of a bridal boutique. In the dim light of the street lamps, Mara’s reflection floated ghost-like on top of the wedding dress on display in the shop window. Lace and silk, a fairytale dress for a fairytale wedding. Her thumb found her ring finger, rubbing against its emptiness.

“Isn’t it beautiful?” Her voice was obstructed by something fierce.

“I can almost see you in it.”

She glanced up, quickly. “You can?”

“Well.” Rory stood behind her. He lowered his head, his breath scorching the curve of her neck as he rasped, “I see you just like this in some of my dirtiest fantasies.”

“Oh?” The sound that came from her throat was shamefully high, in stark contrast to Rory’s deep-rumbling voice.

“The idea of ripping all that lace off you, bend you over and fuck you hard in front of the whole wedding company makes me hard as a rock.”

She could feel it. He pressed against her back, and there was no mistaking the hardness there. Mara let his fantasy spin into a story in her mind. He would take her hard, fill her up, and she would beg and moan, a dirty princess with her rough knight. She pushed her ass against him and with a groan he dropped his head and kissed her nape.

“Why don’t you fuck me right here, Rory? We can pretend I’m wearing the dress.”

“Right here on the street, out in the open? You want that?” His hand found its way to her thigh, bunching up her skirt.

“No one’s gonna see us. They’re all asleep in their beds at this hour.” She moved against his palm, urging him to slip his fingers between her legs where she wanted him. When he did, heat flickered along her spine. Her head spun. She wanted to see herself wearing a wedding dress when they had sex, if only once.

“Do you like that? Tell me you want me, love.” Rory teased her hungry clit through her panties. Mara had to push up against the cool glass so she didn’t buckle under the weight of her need. For this, for him. For something else.

“Fuck me, Rory. Now,” she demanded, gasping when he squeezed her tit and pinched her nipple through her clothes.

“Then step apart. I want to claim my bride.”

Rory left no doubt he wanted her. He pulled her panties aside, freed his cock and slid home. Her sweaty palms left streaks on the glass, there and gone again. She came quick as lightning at his fingertips, and Rory followed her, boxing her in between his sturdy body and the window.

“What a wedding that’d be,” he murmured. Mara felt laughter roll through him and smiled. “Yes,” she breathed, her chest constricting. “What a pair we’d make.”


21) A Captain’s Ransom

With a final thrust, James Tildon, officer of His Majesty’s Royal Navy and captain of the HMS Vanquish, moaned his release. Lady Violet Wyndham let out a delighted squeal.
“James!” she giggled. “Do mind my wedding dress!”
“Yes, m’lady,” James panted, rolling off as carefully as a thousand layers of lace and tulle allowed.
Facing the bulkhead, he shrugged his shirt on and held back sigh. Two days to port, then she’ll be back with her fiancé and off his bloody ship. Ransoming damsels kidnapped by privateers was taking up an increasing part of his commission. And each of them insisted on thanking him personally on the voyage back. Refusal, however polite, was out of the question. Word might get back to his crew and there’d be mutiny. No, he would discharge his duty honourably for King and Country and all that. But it was all getting quite tiresome.

There was scarcely time to resupply before he received new orders. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he read the missive.
“Who’s it this time, sir?” His first mate was at his elbow.
Quickly rearranging his features into a glower, James said, “Lady de Grey.” He turned away. “I’ll be in my cabin.”
Alone at his desk, his hands shook as he charted a course for the Vanquish. His mind raced ahead to when he would intercept his prey, the Rosa Blanca, and be faced again by that Spanish bastard, Ramone de Santos. They would cross swords once more and this time, James meant to come out on top. Another successful mission, another notch in his bedpost. He frowned at the thought of yet another nubile noblewoman he’d have to fuck.
The long days at sea swelled into restless nights. James started from hot and haunted dreams, drenched in sweat and other nightly emissions. He began to dread the climax of the expedition.

Across the gangplank on the Rosa Blanca, James held his head high, past her gauntlet of menacing crew and into the cabin of her captain.
“James!” The handsome Spaniard spun to greet him. He was naked save an irresistibly rakish grin. “Didn’t I promise you I’d find a way?”
“Ramone.” James’ resolve crumbled as his cock surged. Casting the ransom aside, he fell into the pirate’s arms and met his lips in a hungry crush.
“So, this is the infamous Captain James Tildon.” A female voice purred from the shadows. “I see why you are so enamoured, Ramone.”
“Lizzie! Meet James.”
Lady Elizabeth de Grey pushed up from the bed, the sheets falling away to reveal her nude form. James’ breath caught, his heart suddenly, loudly pounding in his ears.
“Charmed.” She smiled, flipped the covers off and slinked sensuously over to a chair in the corner. “You boys have fun. I’ll just be reading over here.”
His mind still boggled, James heard himself stammer, “Perhaps m’lady would care to join us?”
Ramone roared with laughter as he dragged the Englishman into his bed.


22) The Dustman Only Comes…

Nanna was statuesque, reveling in the femininity of lace and broad-brims. She protected me growing-up in 60s Coventry, despite my being mixed-race and gay.
I lost too many in this epidemic: her passing remains the most painful.

7.30am, 2nd October, 1992. Packing-up dead-loved-one’s possessions is never relished: doing so alone, dumped for “being maudlin”, is torture. I’m too expert in quickly clearing. With Nanna, I struggled to “preserve the memory, while clearing excess”. Tears didn’t help: one hand a wedding dress, the other ‘Dora’s Kink Journal’, found in a dresser with condoms, lubricant, and an impressive cylinder vibrator.

The doorbell.

“Soz mate. Bin-days changed. Any rubbish?”

A sweaty superhero filled the broad doorway. Stained vest, unruly straw-blond, shoulder-length hair and beard, khaki overalls loosely-tied around his waist. Tan-line-slashes across thick biceps, white imprints where Raybands usually sat across his golden, kind face.

Stood only in white briefs and a Queen T-Shirt, pathetically holding out items that weighed my hands, I responded, “Throwing out Nanna’s things.”
He stepped between my hands… and hugged me.

Nearly a giant. My face pressed against bushy pubes. He smelled of petrol, rubber, cheap-aftershave. I melted into him. His cock grew satisfyingly between his groin and my sternum. Inches flowered-out from the waist-tied overall: girthy, talcum-powder-fresh. I mischievously rubbed with my sandpaper-stubble chin. He let out a sigh. I smiled; the first time in days.

Mouth-wide, I sucked. Spade-like gloves gripped my shoulders tightly. There was bruising cherished for days. I licked down the flexing shaft to his balls.

Dirty hands slid down my back into my white briefs. Oily marks never washed out of my white T-shirt. He cupped my buttocks to lift me, to kiss his chewing-gum-fresh mouth; broad tongue causing my cock to excitedly dribble.

We locked smiling-eyes. I pointed at the dresser-drawer,
“Fuck me.”

My feet didn’t touch the floor until he’d finished with me. He turned me until I was bent over the dresser. I heard drawer-grind. Snap of the condom being applied. Felt abundant lube smeared with two thick fingers, then the pressure of cock on my hole.

The grieving pain abated. Just breathing.

Glove around my crumpled T-shirt, one scooped around my neck, he pressed my throat. I was deliciously helpless, to the massive girth sliding into me.

Hand spread-wide, across my mouth, he got leverage to penetrate deeper. I tasted oil on the glove, the pressure on my throat, frightening and exhilarating. Gradually he built speed over fifteen minutes. I was wide-eyed. Used. I was filled. Bruised. I didn’t want it to end.

I succumbed across the dresser. With glottal-stopping noise, gloved-hand squeezing tighter, I wondered if my neck would crack before he did. I was rewarded with cum that thickly drenched my t-shirt.

He lowered me to face him, awash with relief.

“Thank you.”

“Miss this collection, we’ll take extra bags on 16th,”
Through a grin, “Ditch- dress, keep- diary. Inspiration. The Dustman only comes once a fortnight. But the Recycling Man has a pretty smile…”


23) Little White Lies

“That’s your wedding dress?”

“What’s wrong with it? It’s white.”

I know the answer. The PVC skirt stops an inch below my ass and three inches above my fishnets, while the bodice is sheer voile with two small, strategically placed, embroidered poppies. Well, they might be poppies. A less charitable interpretation would make them nipples.

“You can’t seriously expect your father to walk you down the aisle wearing something you borrowed from a… a… a porn star?”

I love my mum. I do. But she raised me and my sister to be good girls, virtuous young ladies, stalwart defenders of our own chastity in a world saturated with sex.

So, inevitably, I lost my virginity at thirteen. Ruth held on to hers until halfway through high school; she was always a late developer. We’re both self-taught sluts, proud and confident in our sexuality. We fuck who we want, how we want.

Mum knows this. She’ll never admit it, she’ll never like it, but she knows. And if she’s not proud, she’s definitely envious. I found her porn collection years ago, I know what she dreams about. Right now, she’s imagining a groom bending his bride over the altar, and the words “I do” mumbled around the minister’s cock. I’m not the bride in her fantasy. The groom might still be my fiancé, though. She’s certainly very attentive whenever she meets Tom. Very tactile.

“We’ve had this discussion, Mum. Dad’s never given me anything, so he doesn’t get to give me away. I don’t want anyone to give me away. I’m not property, I’m not a gift, I’m entering into a partnership with Tom. It’s 2019, I’m a modern woman and it will be a modern wedding. I’ll wear what I like, we’ll have a ceremony that suits us and I’ll pay for it all myself, even if that means we can only afford four guests, with beer and crisps in the pub afterwards.”

“What on earth is Ruth wearing?”

“I can’t afford a bridesmaid’s dress as well! She’ll wear her old school uniform. It doesn’t really fit any more, but there we are, she’ll just have to make do.”

Mum’s gone quite pink. She’s seeing herself in that uniform, leaning on a bathroom wall, the best man on his knees in front of her while she twitches her little plaid skirt, teasing him with glimpses of lacy knickers until he begs to put his tongue inside her.

“I’m calling your father. Maybe he can talk some sense into you.”

***
I got married at the Winter Palace, in ivory silk, with a train which finished entering the room thirty seconds after I did. One hundred of our closest friends and relatives watched Tom pledge his love to me, then they all joined us for lobster and champagne. Well, ninety-eight of them did. I’m not sure what happened to Mum and the best man.

It was my dream wedding. Daddy paid for everything: I may be a slut, but I’m not stupid.


24) Something Borrowed…?

She slides into the dress easily. Not sure if she will use it or get a new one, Amy turns left, then right as she looks at herself in the floor-length mirror. Her auburn hair is pulled up out of her face and she sees her Aunt Maggie in her reflection. She must have been tall for her time since the dress fits me almost perfectly.

Suddenly she hears footsteps moving quickly up the stairs. Bursting into the room are two women looking extremely similar to her grandmother and other aunt, Natalie.

“Come on girl, we are going to be late! You don’t want to leave Samuel waiting at the alter now, do you?” the older woman says.

Amy’s mouth just gapes open as she stares at the pair dumbfounded.

“Maggie, say something. Are you ready?”

She looks over to her Aunt Natalie and says, “excuse me?”

“Come on, silly, you look beautiful. Enough staring at yourself. Let’s go.”

They pull her along, out of the room and down the stairs to the great room where people are gathered and sitting in chairs. There is an aisle in the middle leading to an arch where a very handsome man and a preacher stand looking her way.

She turns to walk back out from where they came and they turn her around and nudge her toward the men.

~

Finding herself in a bedroom alight with candles, she is alone with the sexy, dark haired Samuel. The dress is being unclasped by his expert hands and he is kissing her deeply.

Her heart is racing. This is not real.

Oh, but if feels so real!

He is sliding his hands down her hips and pulling the skirt of the dress up ever so slowly. Reaching under as he pulls it up, caressing her mound that is wet and aching for him.

Breathing in a ragged breath she says, “This is not happening.”

“Oh it is! This man in front of you, loves you and all day has been keen to pleasure you and make you his.”

A shiver runs down her body as she responds to his touch and sensual words.

He lifts the dress higher and stops at her breasts, kissing and suckling. She moans.

He then slides the dress completely off of her.

~

She is back in the room, in front of the mirror and alone.
Her sister Angie, all of five feet and long blond hair, flounces into the room. “I found the veil,” she says.

“You know, I think I will not wear Aunt Maggie’s wedding dress after all. I will look again for my own.”

She pours herself out of the dress, passes it to her sister as if it were a hot potato and pulls her own dress back on.

“Well, okay.” Angie says baffled, as Amy moves quickly out the door.


25) Night Shift

The weight of the baton feels good in my hand. Its heft comforts me as I walk the dark spaces of the bridal boutique in the middle of the night. My nightly rounds are not exactly exciting, but it can be a little creepy in the dark with all of those mannequins and wedding dresses.

I walk between racks of exquisite silk and damask in the shadowy showroom. The most beautiful wedding dresses I have ever seen are displayed here. Oh, that one is new. The dress is magical, but the mannequin? None of the others have such shiny black hair, deep green eyes, and huh? Did she just move? No way! I must be tired, working nights is catching up to me. I shake it off and continue on my rounds. Nothing unusual happens, and I laugh at the lump still lodged in my throat. I return to the warm stuffy office to wait for my next rounds, but those green eyes haunt me.

I am lost in a raunchy historical fiction novel when the door opens. The gorgeous mannequin with the green eyes stands there, filling the doorway with pearls, sequins, and beads. Sparkling mirrors perfectly accent deep cleavage. A gauzy peach fabric billows below the swell of a tiny waist, and small pink shells peek from its folds.

I open my mouth to speak, but her finger brushes my lips to silence me. She caresses my cheek softly and leans in for a kiss. Her lips are moist, not cold like I imagine a mannequin’s would be. I shiver. She takes the kiss deeper, our tongues entwine and I feel the wetness seep between my legs.

I attempt to get closer, but she backs away and sits in my chair. I fall to my knees in front of her and tunnel beneath the puffy fabric, seeking the treasure between her impossibly long legs. I smell the gloriously musty aroma before I touch what I seek. My mouth finally achieves its goal, and my tongue dives deep between her swollen labia and sucks at her juices like a woman deprived of nourishment.

From deep beneath the dress, I hear her moan. Her hips buck, twist, and press against my mouth, forcing my tongue deeper. I push a finger inside and slowly penetrate what shouldn’t be there to penetrate. I force my finger in and out, faster and faster while swirling my tongue over her deliciously engorged clit. Her moans grow louder and her breathing more erratic as I pull orgasm after orgasm from her. My face is covered in her warm juices, and I finally reach down and touch my own wet folds.

I jump at the sound of my alarm. Groggily I look around, wipe the drool from my chin, and pull my hand out of my pants. Time for my next rounds.


26) The Last Clean Thing

How exactly did I end up here, a pathetic, dirty mess quivering on the floor of an empty shop, a bridal veil soaked in my own come heaped between my spread legs? It was that damn wedding dress. When I saw it, you were all I could think of. The pristine white silk hanging in that shop window was a shock. It might have been the only clean thing left in this dirty broken world. It shined like a beacon of hope, but there was no more hope.

**

My grimy fingers pressed into the glass window, my dirt smeared face, now unrecognizable, stared blankly back. Even the bright shining ring you’d given me was now dull and lifeless. The mannequin peered down her nose at me, her plastic smile taunting me. You were supposed to be me.

A sudden gust of wind picked up the litter that papered the city streets, debris brushed against my ankles. The government flyers were the worst of it; bright red paper omens stamped with thick black letters.

CONTAGION: Stay in your homes! Mandatory quarantine in effect.

The warnings didn’t help though. The disease wiped out most of the world’s population within weeks, killing its victims within hours. The few that survived were alone, too scared to come in contact with other humans, afraid of more sickness or worse.

I’d lost you. Get home now! I’ll meet you there. I could hear the fear in your voice. You never showed. Where were you?

The dress in all its perfect beauty was everything I’d lost. I had an uncontrollable urge to touch it, as if it would bring you back, bring our life back. I felt a twinge, a mixture of pain and pleasure, a rising heat deep inside.

The air inside was stale, dust motes swirled as I moved through the silence. My fingers brushed over the silken fabric. The softness brought memories to the surface of my mind, memories of you, your kisses, your fingertips brushing over my skin, and I shuddered, the twinge becoming more desperate.

The need was like a bomb about to go off inside me, my cunt clenched as your face flashed before me. I snatched the veil from the mannequin’s head and rubbed it to my face, inhaling the now unfamiliar scent of newness. I couldn’t get my pants off quickly enough, my panties stuck to my soaked cunt as I ripped them down my thighs. I pressed the tulle between my legs, sopping up my juices as I fell to my knees on the floor. I pushed it inside me, shoving it in with my fingers, needing so desperately to be filled. I wished it were your fingers, your cock stretching me with rough desperation. Oh, where were you?

I conjured your face once more as I slowly pulled the veil from my cunt, scraping my walls and humping the heel of my hand. When I came, my scream was the only sound in this dead world.


27) White Wedding

I could see the church from my seat in the corner of the pub; with the noon wedding service fast approaching the congregation are summoned by the chiming peal of the bells, milling around outside the ancient church, their laughter and happiness filling the air like the apple blossom in the trees, a spring wedding in an English village, perfect, exactly as she’d always planned it.

I could see the nervous looking groom scanned up and down the road before finally making his way inside, watched as the car pulled up and Lucy, my Lucy, had stood outside the church with her father, a few quiet intimate words together, his hand placed reassuringly on the small of her back as he escorted her inside … the very same place my hands had been less than 12 hours ago, the wedding dress she is wearing so primly now, half undone, bunched to her waist, my heavy rough hands on her delicate smooth white curves as I fucked her from behind on the king-sized bed in the bridal suite, the very bed she’d be sharing with her new husband this evening.

I could picture her as she would be at this very moment, standing proudly in front of her friends and family, hand in hand with her soon-to-be husband – in front of her would be the vicar, behind her, her bridesmaid, her best friend – my wife, and I knew there would be tears, she’d always cried at weddings, especially our own.

Walking across to the church I look again at the text Lucy had sent me last night, “I need us to fuck one more time” … and we had, as urgent and as passionate as ever, but with a powerful, lustful intensity in her eyes that somehow felt different, would it be the last time? I doubted that.

Her wedding dress had been hanging on the wardrobe door when I arrived, I could see it over her shoulder as she’d sat astride me on the floor, the expensive silk lingerie she’d be wearing on her wedding night pulled aside as she lowered herself on me, bouncing and grinded her hips over my eager cock. She had been insatiable, dirty, wanton, it was her suggestion to put the dress on, told me how much it would turn her on to be fucked by me in it, then to wear it in church later that same day – over the years we’d learnt to accept each other, we never questioned each other’s needs and I’d happily played my part in her fantasy.

Pushing against the heavy oak door to the church, the creak of the door followed by the staccato crack of my heels on ancient flagstones catches the attention of some of the congregation as I walk slowly down the aisle, but not the vicar, his clear voice cutting through the silence “If any person present knows of any lawful impediment to this marriage, he or she should declare it now”…


28) Moving Day

Alex looked through the closet, slowly pulling various shirts and pants off of the clothes hangers, tossing them onto the bed haphazardly. Boxes of all sizes lay around, some closed off and taped up, and others still showing their contents to the world.

As he reached into the back of the closet, his hands came across a white fabric. “Huh…what’s this?” he asked quietly, more to himself than to anyone in particular. It took a while for him to get it down, but he finally managed to pull it out. A long white piece of fabric with a zipper in the middle, keeping the dust off of something. Curious, he zipped it down just part ways before a large smile came to his face.

“Find anything good?” his partner, Michael, asked as he came into the room. He stopped as he saw the look on Alex’s face. “What’s that?” he asked again.

“This? This is my wedding dress, remember?” Alex said, zipping it fully open. Dust scattered onto the ground, yet the dress on the inside was as beautiful as it was when they had got married several years before. Small stains near the bottom, from when they had gotten up that first morning after, their dicks spilling both lube and cum over the haphazardly removed article.

“Oh yeah, I remember that!” Michael said a second later. There weren’t many frills to it, mostly just a pure white flow that seemed to reflect more light than there was in the room. “Think you’ll still fit into it? Come on, try it on!” he pressed.

He remembered the day of their wedding, one of the best day of his life, he would say. It wasn’t a sunny day, rather stormy actually, but if anything that had only served them better. To them, it had still been the perfect day, regardless of the turnout, or the weather. The day they had committed their lives to each other.

Alex gave him a confused look before stripping out of his clothes. He hadn’t changed that much, he thought. It took him a few minutes to get it on, the dress flowing over him easily. He held out his hands. “How do I look?” he asked with a grin, giving a neat little twirl.

“Absolutely stunning,” Michael responded, slowly running his hands over the dress at Alex’s shoulders. “You know…I always regret letting you just toss it onto the ground right away. I wanted to fuck you in it, really badly.”

Alex grinned. He bent over the bed, flipping it up and giving his love a shot of his ass. “Well, you can do it now?” he gave a come-hither look. Michael went up right behind him, slowly massaging his ass with his hands and newly-freed cock.

“I think I shall…we can finish later,” Michael said. Their world became one of bliss, their worries and lives forgotten, knowing only each other.


29) Wedded Bliss

With a giggle and a sigh I realize that we may have been gone too long but neither of us care. My eyes meet his and we both smile; his fingers brush away my hair that has fallen and my eyes move to admire the black band on his finger. With a smile I whisper “Husband”. Leaning forward his lips brush against mine and “Wife” is said with just as much reverence as I have for those sacred words. The kiss deepens and his hands glide over my already sensitive skin. I can feel his cock getting hard inside my pussy and he thrusts twice as he pinches my nipples and my back arches. Pulling out he guides me to my feet spinning me around. His fingers quickly pull my hair down from the fancy updo I worked so hard on and then he grips my hair at my scalp with just enough pain to make me moan loudly. His voice in my ear tells me to be quiet. His palm lands firmly on my ass and echoes in the room. My eyes close as he urges me to bend over the altar table.

As my nipples come in contact with that cold sacred table my breath catches and he chuckles behind me. His hand still tangled in my hair makes sure I don’t decide to stand up. With his grip confirmed, his other hand rubs my ass and then promptly smacks me as hard as he can. His red handprint marking the flesh that belongs to him and only him. I can feel his hard cock rub against me and I move against him hoping he will get the hint and thrust into me hard and fast. His fingers touch that forbidden hole, the one place he has not claimed yet. “Mine” is the one word I hear whispered. Anticipation seeps into every cell of my body, I want him to claim this as his. I feel the large blunt head of his massive cock against me. The cold lube he has used makes the way easier as he eases into me. His hard cock fills every space available inside me. When he is almost all the way in, he thrusts hard yelling “MINE”. With a final smack to my ass, he starts fucking me hard.

“I own you now in every way, every hole you have is mine. Every second of pleasure or pain you have I will be the one to give it to you or to deny you. You are mine!” He growls out. “Come for me wife!” At that moment, time stops and the peak of pleasure hits me hard as I obey his command. When time starts again, my eyes open to see my beautiful torn wedding dress laying on the floor.


30) Money Bags

Gypsy loved her consignment shop. It was smaller than a lot of the other ones in the neighborhood, but it got more business because of the high quality donations they received that were reflective of the neighborhood and because people trusted them. There was a show-stopping wedding dress in the storefront window, that made people stop and look. It made a believer out of people who did not believe in love..

And that was the other thing—the stories behind the clothes. Gypsy remembered them all. The wedding dress had belonged to a woman who had long given up on love. But when she met her husband, she wanted everything—the huge wedding and all of the fixings that came with it.

A man walked into the store, with a shopping bag—he was clearly a local. Gypsy could almost smell the money on him. He was extremely handsome, but Gypsy did not look at the men in her shop like men.

They were from the neighborhood.

She did not like the neighborhood, but it was great for business.The only thing she liked was a bar down the street, because she knew the bartender from her own neighborhood. Alex always kept her well liquored.

She was in the middle of her mock flirtation with him, when she spotted the handsome local man from earlier down the bar holding a drink that mirrored hers.

“That guy has been staring at you the entire time he has been here,” Alex said.

Gypsy blinked, but she did not look at the man. He would not be her type, and she would not be his. Maybe he remembered her from earlier? His hand had touched hers briefly…

She shook her head.

“He can look,” she shrugged.

Her bladder was tiny and her two drinks demanded that she use the rest room. She felt the heat of another person, and pressure on her shoulders in the hallway.

“Excuse me,” she remembered his voice from earlier, his polished manners and the way that even this slight intrusion of her personal space did not feel like he was taking liberties. Though she was sure that he had followed her.

She turned around and he was gone.

Gypsy went to the bathroom, and when she walked back to the bar to settle her tab Alex brushed her off.

“Money Bags paid your tab, and here another.”

Gypsy looked around but he was nowhere to be found

Two weeks later, she saw Mr. Money Bags on the train getting off a stop before her. She did not know what she was doing, as she got off the train and pressed her hands on his hips.

“Excuse me…”

He did not excuse her, she followed him home. He was not moneyed after all, and they never made excuses when they touched each other after that run-in.


31) Icing on the Cake

Grooms aren’t supposed to see the bride before the ceremony. Especially not in the wedding dress. But Marc and Vanessa did things their own way. As always.

Rachel sniffled in her corner of her basement boutique, making the last adjustments to the dress’ hemline. She bent low, refusing to turn up the lights so Kelsey wouldn’t see her tears.

Kelsey grazed her fingers along Rachel’s neck. “Still gets to you, huh?”

“Four designers in this town and she picks me.”

“Well, she’s a dick, Rach. But she at least still believes you’re the best. Maybe that’s an offering of sorts?”

“I’d like to offer her a stick of dynamite,” Rachel mumbled. “I thought I could be a big girl and handle—but I can’t even concentrate on—”

“Gimme that,” Kelsey said, snapping her fingers at the dress. “You can’t do proper alterations in your lap.” She wiggled out of her tank dress, twisting her hips to free them.

Kelsey was never shy. But she also never made eye contact when changing in front of Rachel.

“Vanessa had some saggy tits, to be sure.”

Rachel burst out laughing at Kelsey’s massive chest ballooning into the low-cut lace vee of the bodice, nipples poking through the gaps.

“You look much better she did,” Rachel said. “Here, put this headband on too.”

Kelsey stooped an inch so Rachel could reach, gripping her waist for balance. “What have you got on there?”

“Pearls, nitwit.”

Kelsey pulled the headband down and nudged the pearls, noticing only the smaller ones at the ends were basted. “Let’s have a little fun before she gets them.” She ripped them off in one motion, a mischievous grin inching up her face. “Slip off that skirt and put your palms on the platform.”

Rachel did as she was told, grinning as she dropped the skirt. Hoping for a different outcome this morning, she hadn’t worn anything underneath. But at this point, she welcomed the distraction. Calves straining, she pointed her ass in the air.

Kelsey slapped each juicy cheek before easing them apart, lapping Rachel’s hole down to her clit. Sliding her tongue into Rachel’s anus, Kelsey squeezed her ass until she begged for the cool smoothness of the pearls.

Kelsey always carried lube in her purse in case the opportunity of a public quickie came along. She squirted a line along the string of pearls and teased them between Rachel’s cheeks first, then slipped a little extra lube inside with a finger. One at a time, she eased the pearls past Rachel’s tight hole.

Rachel moaned louder with each one, tilting her hips ever higher, demanding more. When nothing but thread remained, Kelsey sucked Rachel’s ass cheek until it bloomed red. She tugged the string slowly, and Rachel came at the pop of the last pearls.

“Stand up,” Kelsey whispered. “Time to kiss the bride.”


32) Black and white

His abiding memory of her has her dressed in black from head to toe. She loved to pair black knee high boots with a delicious mini-skirt that always grabbed attention and she got his that day. It was sunny and bright. She wasn’t. She looked dark, unapproachable and brooding, like she just didn’t care, but she wasn’t any of those things. She was light, she was effervescent, she brought joy everywhere she went. She was the best thing he ever had, however fleeting.

So that day was the day he forced himself to speak to one of the most beautiful people he had ever met. It was the day that changed his life. From that day until the last, he never wanted. She nourished and strengthened him. She brought him to places, literally and figuratively, that he never even imagined he could go. She taught him things and made him better in every way.

She showed him how to beat her in such a way as to give that beautiful, aching, lasting pain that she craved. She let him fuck her like no other woman had; deep, hard, violently almost. She taught him that pain could be pleasure if administered in just the right fashion. Her stamina and energy blew away any stereotypes of gendered desire that had cluttered his brain since adolescence. He could carry her post-session face of satisfaction to his grave a happy man.

She showed him that pleasure came from more than the end of his knob – she was the first to fuck him in the arse. In true fashion she didn’t hold back either. She was gentle at first, warming him up slowly and letting him get used to the dildo but once he was open she fucked him. Properly fucked him. He felt like he was a ghost floating in the room watching as he screamed at her to fuck him harder and harder. She gripped his shoulder with one hand to get the leverage that he craved and he arched his body to help get every inch in. Nobody else on this planet could have made him sing like that. Nobody.

He remembers her face after they finished and were crashed out on the bed, it was full of light and giddy with excitement to be sharing something so intimate and raw with him. She said she was just happy to open the door to him to something so deeply pleasurable.

In his final memory of her she has just told him they were done. She has just left their apartment and she’s walking along the busy street, about to get swallowed up by the crowd. Dressed in that same combination of black mini-skirt and black leather boots as the day they met, she strode forwards purposefully while he stood in the window watching her walk past a bridal shop, the wedding dress in the window in total contrast to her and everything she had been to him. He never saw her again.


33) Last Minute Shopping

How beautiful she was, Mike thought. He lay on his back on the floor of the shop with her on top of him. Her shiny black hair flew around her face, her breasts bouncing inside her tight blue dress as she rode him.

It had come as quite a surprise – but he knew he should probably consider himself lucky. He clenched his jaw, trying not to come as his erect cock slid in and out of her slippery cunt.

Business had been slow for most of that day – in fact, all afternoon the shop had been empty. Bored, Mike had passed the time by rearranging dresses on the racks, occasionally checking his laptop for orders from the online store.

But then, at a quarter to five, she had entered. Tall, confident – and looking absolutely gorgeous in that exquisite blue dress. Mike had flashed his most charming smile. She’d looked like a customer ready to spend good money on a well-made dress or two.

To his surprise, she had grabbed him by his tie with one hand – the other had reached between his legs, precisely locating his testicles and giving them a gentle squeeze. He had gasped.

“Wanna fuck?” she’d whispered hoarsely.

And before he’d been able to answer, she’d pushed him down on the floor with a show of impressive strength. Lying there, he’d sensed how his cock began to swell and stretch. He’d only been conscious of a feeling of shock and astonishment. But it was as if – behind the scenes – some primal urge had taken over his body, preparing his member for sex.

Eagerly, she’d unbuckled his belt and zipped down his pants, freeing his growing cock.

“Wait …” he’d gasped.

And that was about all the protest he had mustered. She’d pushed her panties aside, letting him enter her cunt.

“Yes!” she’d yelled as she began to ride him hard.

The sensation of her slick pussy around his hard shaft was incredible. As she moved up and down on his cock, waves of pleasure rolled through every fiber of his body. He was almost unable to breathe.

She rode him faster now, her eyes gleaming in ecstasy as she groaned with lust. Hopefully she was about to come, because he wouldn’t be able to last much longer.

She arched her back as she climaxed, screaming her orgasm at the shop ceiling:

”Aaah! Aaah!”

“Nng!” Mike replied.

He felt his swollen cock contracting – almost painfully – once, twice. Not until the third contraction he finally felt the hot spunk bursting from his shaft, firing jet after jet of semen up into her trembling cunt.

Panting, she jumped off him and straightened her dress. He swiftly zipped up his pants and got to his feet.

“So, Madam”, he said, slightly out of breath. “Is there anything I can help you with?”

“Yes,” she replied calmly. “I’m looking for a wedding dress.”


34) Thrift Store Find

David found it at the back of the thrift store, hidden amongst tacky prom dresses and outdated club wear; a beautiful creamy white wedding dress. It was heavy when he lifted it from the overcrowded rack, the long, flowing skirt cool and slick across his crooked arm. He held it up to the light, mesmerized by the intricate beading that covered the bodice. A lump came to his throat as he imagined himself dressed in the beautiful garment. He turned to a mirror in an open dressing room and held the dress against himself. It looked perfect; its generous bodice should fit his muscular torso, and the spaghetti straps would pose no problems for his masculine shoulders. He would take it. Not paying attention to the price, he paid and hurried home, the anticipation building inside him.

He carefully hung the dress on the door of his closet, then stripped naked. He hunted through his drawer of carefully arranged underwear until he found the item he was looking for; a pair of delicate white lace knickers. He slipped the knickers on, enjoying the feel of lace against his skin and the secure squeeze of tight fabric against his penis. Next, he carefully rolled a pair of white silk stockings up each smoothly shaven leg. A white lace suspender belt completed his lingerie ensemble, it sat firmly above his narrow hip bones, the four clips pulling at the lace tops of the stockings. He looked at himself in the mirror and nodded with approval.

The dress slid easily down his body, the long satin skirts cascaded like a waterfall over his hips, the beaded bodice was tight on his torso, pulling in his waist to a satisfying curve. He turned this way and that, admiring his reflection and running his hands over the rough beading at his waist, then the smooth satin over his hips and butt. His eyes twinkled and his face was split by a broad smile. He felt beautiful and confident; like he was ready to take on the world.

He heard a knock at the door and rushed to open it. Standing there was Jason, love of his life. Jason looked him up and down, a curious smile twitching at the corner of his lips, before he determinedly marched towards David. They embraced in a lust filled kiss, Jason’s hands on David’s hips, pulling him close and kissing him deeply.

‘You look gorgeous’ he whispered in David’s ear.

David melted into Jason’s strong arms, feeling a tingle as his erection grew beneath tight lace. Jason maneuvered David on to the sofa and knelt between his legs. He ran his hands up the smooth stockinged legs beneath the skirt until he reached the hard bulge trapped in lace. Jason ducked under the skirt and expertly freed David’s erection from its lace prison. David let out a deep primal moan as he felt Jason’s hot, wet mouth envelope his penis. He wanted to feel this good forever.


35) The Price of Love

I’ll do anything for my clients. If it can be sucked or fucked, I’m your man. Their tastes can range from benign to bizarre: a little stroking here, a little choking there, but I’ll do it all. For a price.

The buzzer sounds and I answer the intercom.

“Ricky speaking.”

“Ms. Bardwell for her 12pm appointment.”

“Welcome back, Ms. Bardwell. Come on up.”

“Thank you, Ricky.”

High heels click closer, followed by a knock at the door.

I open it and Steph Bardwell stands in a delicate, silk wedding dress: hair permed, make-up artfully applied.

My mouth slips open.

“Too much?” she asks with a coy smile.

“Hardly.”

I usher her inside and she strides out onto the balcony, manicured nails bright against the balustrade, expression playful as she takes in the view.

“To what do I owe this pleasure?” I ask.

She turns to me, green eyes framed by mascara.

“I’m getting married on Thursday, Ricky. Today was the rehearsal and I couldn’t waste the make-up.”

I take her hand, glancing at the diamond engagement ring.

“And what can I do for you?”

“Fuck me like my new husband should.”

I dip my head in acknowledgement, running my lips over the back of her hand before bringing it to my chest.

“Come with me.”

I lead her into the bedroom and lay her gently on the bed, pausing only to draw the curtains.

“No rose petals?” she quips, one hand lazily circling the quilt cover.

“If you’d given me a bit more notice, I could’ve drowned you in a sea of flowers.”

She laughs.

“That’s no way to treat a bride.”

I trace the edge of her lip with my thumb.

“We’ll see.”

I kiss her lightly on the mouth, tasting first the lipstick, then the champagne and vanilla from the cake trial. She eases back onto the bed and I move with her, flicking my tongue across hers. She shudders and I slide a hand down her back, unzipping the dress.

I try to pace myself, to keep her fantasy going, but I’m wavering. We strip quickly. Shoes and lingerie sail across the room. I enter her, savouring the sharp intake of her breath and the wetness between her thighs. She crushes herself against me and I push back, thrusting deeper.

When I sense she is close to orgasm, I pull out and bend her over, taking her from behind. She screams and I fuck her harder, our bodies melding to my rhythm. She comes, body grinding against mine and I give in to her ecstasy, letting her ride me until I break too.

Satiated, we lay with fingers entwined.

“It’s too bad that this is our last session,” Steph says, beautiful despite her ruined make-up.

“Well, here’s to Thursday,” I reply, “and doing it all again. For real.”


36) The Game Changer

Thankfully I wasn’t superstitious because the moment I saw the wedding dress, lying on the spare bed of our guest bedroom I was captivated. Despite the fact my bride wasn’t in it and it was two weeks before our wedding.

As I approached the white silk gown my desire to touch it grew stronger. When my hands grazed the fabric, my heart pounded in my chest. I told myself it was the anticipation of seeing her in it. Which I probably could have convinced myself off if it hadn’t been for the throbbing erection pushing forcibly against my zipper.

I’d been wearing ladies underwear for years. The sheer fabrics felt luxurious against my skin, the feeling of indulgence always aroused me. It was always lingerie that got me off, never clothing. That dress though? Fuck! That dress was a game changer.

Curiosity had blinded me to many things, not least of all the logistics of measurements. Still, I lifted the dress from the bed, the smooth fabric cool to the touch. It was heavier than I expected and imagining the weight of it against my erection caused an audible groan to leave my mouth.

I undressed, peeling away the mundane, my cock aching with excitement. I stepped into the dress, amazed by the different layers and further aroused by the sensation of the underskirt wafting against my legs. As I held the bodice against my chest with one hand, the other brushed the front of the dress, when it stroked my cock through the fabric I had a moment of panic, an impromptu climax was not the plan.

Having bypassed that near miss, I decided I should act quickly. I let my body relax into the fresh sheets of the spare bed, ready and waiting to accommodate wedding guests. I gathered up the layers of the dress and let the fingers of my left hand nestled into them. My right hand caressed the dress as it travelled down my body. I almost pulled away when my fingers tentatively reached for my erection. I was so hard it almost felt unfamiliar. The dress, the fucking dress, had my hardon raging. Spurred on by the knowledge of just how aroused the dress had me, I was soon pumping away furiously, moaning breathlessly as I imagined myself covered in my own cum whilst the rest of me was covered in such graceful elegance.

Lost in thought, and seconds away from orgasm I was unceremoniously disturbed. Not by the front door closing. I had missed that sound, I didn’t, however, miss the sound of my fiance declaring that white was not my colour. I began to beg for forgiveness but she shut me up with kiss so fierce it took my breath away.

We kept that dress though she never wore it. In truth, it seemed rude to return it after we’d fucked in it. That and the fact my now wife can’t get enough of her slutty little bride.


37) Something New

Michelle smoothed a hand over the dress’s firm bodice and smiled at her reflection. “Still fits.”

“Hmph,” Bruce groaned, wrapping his arms around her waist. “Too bad the marriage doesn’t anymore.”

“We fit, baby. It’s just…” Michelle rubbed the back of her husband’s head, his curls crinkling beneath her fingertips. It was a strange way to commemorate their wedding anniversary by deciding to separate on the same date, but anyone who knew the Clermonts knew that the couple never did anything by the book. In fact, it was Michelle’s idea to reminisce by digging her wedding dress out of the back of their bedroom closet – a space that would soon be hers alone once Bruce had temporarily moved out.

“Are we sure we want to do this?” Bruce asked, his chin nestled in the curve of Michelle’s smooth brown neck.

“Yeah,” Michelle whispered. “We need to at least try being apart for a while. What other choice do we have to prevent from calling it quits for good?”

“Maybe we could renew our vows. I mean, you already have the wedding dress on. All we need is Reverend Green, a couple of flower girls, an organ, and it’ll be 2009 all over again.”

The two shared a short laugh, their nostalgic reflections looking back at them. Michelle dropped her hand from Bruce’s head and turned to face him. “We tried, baby. We really did but—”

“I know.” Bruce dropped his gaze from hers. “I just wish we hadn’t lost the magic.”

Michelle swallowed. It turned her on when he was vulnerable. Had he shown this side more often over the past ten years, they may not have been facing a trial separation. She traced a hand down the front of button-up, tugging at his silk tie. “I don’t think we’ve lost the magic.” Her gentle touch brushed against the stiffness in his slacks. “See? It’s still there.”

Bruce pulled her curves into his brawny frame. “I can’t let you go,” he breathed against her pout before taking her lips into a ravaging kiss.

Michelle broke away from the kiss, stroking Bruce’s beard. “You have to let me go…but not tonight.”

Without a thought to the dress or the memories it held within its delicate lace, Bruce ripped the back of the bodice before recapturing Michelle’s mouth. Michelle moaned into the kiss as the two fell onto their bed, slithering her body out of the garment and onto her husband in one motion. Michelle unbuckled his pants as Bruce took one, then both, nipples into his warm and wanting mouth. Michelle writhed on top of him as his fingers found her wetness. She spread wider for him when he flipped her over onto her back. The dress crumpled to the foot of the bed as Bruce entered his wife, both hoping against hope that they could turn something old into something new again.


38) Liberation

The doors squeak as Betty opens the armoire. The odour of naphthalene is faint but discernible. Three dresses hang in the left part of the cupboard. On the shelves on the right, there’s a pile of neatly folded tea towels. Betty recognises the stiff cloths with the single blue stripe. Her mind lingers on an image of her grandmother sitting at the kitchen table, humming to the radio while she polishes her silverware.

One of the dresses has been put in a garment bag. There’s a green woollen one that Betty has a vague memory of. The third one is a simple summer dress with a delicate flower print. Betty puts the garment bag on her grandmother’s bed. She carefully pulls the zipper and gasps at what’s inside. Like a long-lost present, a wedding dress appears. Betty takes it out of the bag and hangs it on the wardrobe door. She cannot believe what she’s looking at. A dress that cannot be. Her mother had no father. Or at least, one she never knew. A Canadian soldier liberating Amsterdam in May 1945. Celebrating the allied victory by indulging in a young Dutch girl. Betty has never heard her grandmother speak of the soldier. She does know her mother’s resentment that resided in the grief of never having had a father.

A piece of paper whirls to the floor. Betty picks it up. It’s a letter, folded in four. It must’ve been inside the garment bag. She unfolds it.

“Dearest Elizabeth, I’ve missed you so much these last few days that I couldn’t eat. Our parting was too abrupt. It felt like I was ripped away from you. I’ve seen things in this war that will no doubt fester in me for a long time. But not being able to be with you, to spend my life with you, is the most devastating thing that has happened to me in Europe. And yet, you gave me the most beautiful experience I ever had. You opened me up to something I did not know existed. Dare I write it? I still smell your juices. I continually desire to lick you and suck you. Your moans urging me to continue. Your gloved hands on my head pushing me harder against your sex. It was divine, and I admit that I have whispered the word clitoris to myself countless times since just to hang on to the memory of that special rosebud that you acquainted me with. My Mistress, my Lady. When I think of the dress, that most elegant garment of our bonding, I am in pain. To never be able to wear it. For you not to see me in it. Maybe somewhere, in another time our love can flourish unbound. Eternally yours, your boy, your pet, Peter.”

Betty trembles as she places the wedding dress with the letter back into the garment bag. With the other items, she puts it in the moving box she brought.


39) Afternoon In The Sun

A figure sits alone by the window, dust motes dancing around her in the light. If not for the rise and fall of the shoulders, you would easily mistake her for a wax figure straight from Tussauds. Lucinda once careened though life with all the recklessness and verve of youth. No adventure was too bold for her to embark upon and there was no horizon she wouldn’t strive to reach. She wrote about them all; every dark, juicy, sweaty detail would thrust and grind their way into her stories.

One night, one year in Morocco …or was it Lisbon?…. following an afternoon of dance and drink, she allows herself to be led through winding, wet, cobbled streets. Urgent hands pull her onward, two voices – one high, one deep – whispering, laughing, compelling her forward.
“Come on Lucy, just around this next corner.”
Then a darkened stoop, lips and teeth and tongues on skin, flashing eyes and hastily removed clothes. Tumbling through the doorway, barely pausing to slam it before crashing and diving into each other.

She sits, staring wistfully into the waning light of the afternoon, a smile flickering across her face. The memory brings a tear to her eye and a faint thrum to her core. Life is different now. Looking down, Lucinda enjoys the comforting rasp as she casually strokes fingertips across the neatly printed lines of her blank notebook. As she looks, the lines recall her happiest times behind the bars of a cage, when words would drip like honey from her imagination.

Lucinda would sit for hours, collar in place, revelling in the comforting pressure of restraints. In those days, Lucinda would just write – about nothing and everything, injecting ferocious passion into her characters and scenes. Stories of her exploits were famous, and they would meander and wind across the page like a swift river of prose; strong enough to bear even the most stubborn of travellers on its shoulders. Now, that same river slithers dank and deep, if at all. Lucinda sighs and drops her pen to the page.

Rising slowly, she slides her hands down her bodice lovingly, admiring the intricacy of the faded lace. She smiles to herself at the irony. Here was the girl who once swore up and down that she would “never be shackled”. Now Lucinda feels the most comfortable in a wedding dress that never was, wishing only to be bound once again.

The room around her is littered with the detritus of her life. Frozen in time and consumed with memories of esprit. This is all she has now, the stuttering heartbeat of her life. Recollections of pulsing, screaming orgasms and the swish-crack of a cane mingle and meld with voices raised in anger and the sound of a car pulling away forever.

Another day has passed. Lying down wearily, Lucinda closes her eyes against the unforgiving tide. Tomorrow will come with a promise, new and fresh. Perhaps she will try to write again.
Perhaps.


40) 12 Years

On their first anniversary – three months After The Bad Thing Happened – she went home with a man from her yoga class. Spread out on his dining room table, she stared at the ceiling as he used tracing paper to stencil onto her skin all the names she used to love being called. Slut. Tease. Trouble.

The following year, she pulled up a stool at one of the city’s many student bars, and quickly seduced an earnest young man who was only too happy to masturbate into his stripy M&S boxers, before stuffing the soft, sticky cotton into her mouth.

Third anniversaries are marked with leather, and 45 minutes after she’d handed her trusty paddle to the pro domme quietly recommended by her best friend’s brother over a bottle of wine one night, so was she.

By year five, she longed to feel a man inside her again, so she took that same helpful brother to the bluebell wood she’d played in as a child, and straddled him against the base of a tree. His short, thick cock pulled from her a shuddering wave of nostalgia and grief, and she sobbed into his shoulder till spunk trickled down her thighs.

12 months – and another half-dozen, mercifully less emotive penises – later she attended her first sex party, where she gazed in wonder at the bodies writhing in front of her as she dangled in iron chains from a sturdy wooden beam. It was an awakening she’d expected to have in her mid-20s when she moved to the city, and which she’d rather thought had passed her by.

Their 9th anniversary was the first she spent living with another man, in what proved to be a facsimile of domestic bliss. As instructed, he beat her vigorously with a willow cane, though as with so many things in their relationship, he never quite understood why.

After their 10th anniversary had come and gone (Tinder date, aluminium butt plug; less exciting than she’d hoped), she fell into a deep depression, fuelled by grief that suddenly felt as fresh as it had done in those first foggy days in the hospital. 20 years felt so far away. Too far to cope without her annual celebration of everything that might have been.

And then a breakthrough. An idle Google search. Symbols no-one had told her about. Steel for 11 years – a dildo somehow both easier and more intense than the butt plug – followed by silk for 12.

12 years. In her own way, she felt light and sunny again. Nourished by memories that no longer opened the door for aching sadness, and by the love of a man who knew what he could – and couldn’t – be for her. When she pulled up the skirt of her silk wedding dress – faded grass stains still dusting the hem – and bent over their bed, the first thrust of his cock brought everything full circle.

She closed her eyes and smiled. Gave a silent prayer of thanks. And finally said goodbye.


41) The Rehearsal

Chip and Mindy sat at the head table, beaming, staring longingly into each other’s eyes, just like newlyweds were supposed to do. Chip raised one eyebrow and darted his eyes between Mindy’s mouth and his own lap.

“Here? Now?” She looked around at their guests, some chatting amongst themselves, others watching them expectantly.

“You’re all supposed to be ignoring us!” Mindy screamed at the ceiling. “Seriously! I can’t act with these amateurs!”

“Cut!” Mike, the director walked through the set to the head table.

“You don’t have to say ‘cut’ Mike. This isn’t a movie set.” Frida, the assistant director, followed at his heels.

“Mindy, this is our last rehearsal. We go live tomorrow. Can we please just get through the whole script? I understand that a lot of it will be improvised when we have an actual audience, but we still need to have this right or they won’t know when to participate.”

“My name is Jackie, Mike, and why are you telling me this? Talk to them!” Jackie pointed at the rest of the cast, now all staring at them.

“You can be Jackie when we’re done with rehearsal. Onset you’re Mindy. And your new husband just asked you to give him a blowjob in the middle of your wedding reception. Your next line is ‘Everyone will see.’”

“Fine.” Jackie shook herself out, getting back into character. “But everyone will see!”

Chip’s wiggled his eyebrows, giving her a toothy grin .

“Shouldn’t we be the ones to get this party started?” He unzipped his tuxedo pants and pulled out his semi-hard cock.

Mindy grinned and wrapped her hands around it, massaging it to it’s full eight inches. She hiked up her wedding dress, kneeled next to him, and wrapped her lips around the engorged head.

“O.M.G.” Right on que the maid of honor stood next to them. Everyone looked to the front table. “May I join you?” She kneeled on the other side of Chip and the two women took turns sucking his cock.

Around the room, cast members started to follow suit. Women laid down on cleared tables to get eaten out. Mike walked through the room, making sure the ones without partners or groups knew what their jobs.
“I’ll be available for this table of women to suck my cock.”

“I’ll take my dress off and lay down on this table.”

Back at the front, Chip had Mindy bent over their table, fucking her from behind while she sucked a groomsman’s cock in front of her.

Mike looked around and smiled, pleased with the performance.

“This is going to be groundbreaking for the porn industry.”

Next to him, Frida nodded.

“As long as Mindy doesn’t wig-out.”

“Ok everyone! That’s a wrap! We’ll see you back here tomorrow at eight for wardrobe. We go on at ten! Good work.”

“Seriously bro? I didn’t even cum, yet!” Chip continued to rub his cock as Mindy walked away from him and the set cleared.


42) Unwedded Bliss

She was encased in silk and lace. A corset was pulled tight around her torso, leading into an explosion of a skirt, layers and layers of fabric as wide as the door she had just come through. But she was far from a vision in white. Her hair fell messily about her face, having slipped from her intricate bun, and her veil was missing, swept up by the wind during her run here and carried away like a fallen leaf. The hem of the bright white dress was dark with dirt from the street.

“I couldn’t go through with it.”

Her voice was brittle, but resolute.

The man on the sofa watched her silently, stunned, though trying not to show it. He’d been drowning his sorrows before she arrived, pushing any and all thoughts of her nuptials from his mind. He placed his wine glass on the coffee table, and kept his face carefully neutral.

“Why?”

“Because he isn’t you.”

Something warm unfurled in his chest, spreading through his veins. Dozens of images played through his head, this woman in his arms, on his bed, over his knee. The heartbreak he’d felt when she’d left, choosing that stable future, that normal man. Now she was back, panting in a dirty wedding dress. He stood, placed his hands on either side of her flushed face and kissed her.

Pulling back, their eyes met. She was so close, she could see the pink wine stains in the corners of his mouth.

“I want to be with you,” she whispered, so quietly he wouldn’t have heard it if they weren’t almost nose-to-nose. But hear it he did, and his wine-stained lips quirked into a smile.

Gently, he guided her so that her back was to him, and began to undo the many stays on her dress. It was fiddly work, and he got more and more impatient. By the time the pale expanse of her back was visible, he couldn’t stop himself from pressing frantic kisses to her neck and upper back. The love and relief he’d felt at first seeing her spilling out of him, as he dragged his teeth possessively against her skin. She gasped in arousal at the sharp sensation.

The rest of the gown was quickly pulled down and kicked away, leaving her in nothing but her shiny white underwear.

“Get on the sofa.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“Over the arm,” he clarified, still staring at her like he was trying to commit her to memory.

With her hands on the sofa cushion and her body over the arm, her backside was in the air before him. He shimmied down her underwear and caressed her behind, before spanking her hard.

The electricity under her skin sparked, the love in her heart burned and even through her sound of pain she smiled with pleasure. He was smiling too.


43) Random Acts

Silver bangles. Heeled boots. Bourbon. Madeline’s signatures tick through my brain whenever I venture out to this airport and I wonder what she remembers most about me. Nikes. Beer. Thick cock?

Make me cum, Rey,” she’d whispered between the tangle of her brown hair entwined in my grip. For a man whose balls were being tenderly massaged by experienced hands, I’d responded with ridiculous practicality.

“Is Madeline your real name?”

Her chuckle, muffled by soft lips trailing my neck, reverberated down to the tip of my cock.

Ok. No more stupid questions.

I’d grabbed her open bottle of bourbon and swallowed a generous swig before finding my courage. Pulling back on her hair, I’d made her look up at me before pushing her back onto the desk and grabbing her knees. It was my first time drinking bourbon and my first time with a woman in the year since my divorce. I could get used to both.

Driving up and around to the service bay, I gaze into the near distance and smile at the obscured sight of the hotel where we’d met three months ago. I’d made deliveries there before, but had never noticed the trendy swoop of the bar until the afternoon I met Madeline. She was there looking just like the disappearing photos she’d sent me. She was quite the teacher in the art of digital discretion.

“You’re trolling the Random Acts of Muff Dive board and you don’t know the first thing about having an encounter like this?” Her unique brand of chiding disbelief, even via text, was apparent when I confessed ignorance to her questions. Luckily, she didn’t wait for the answer. Madeline wasn’t the first woman whose post I’d responded to during lonely lunch hours. But, she was the first to ever really answer. She’d said it was the way I’d managed to seem hopeful but incredulous that anyone would take me up on the offer of indiscriminate cunnilingus. “First timers are my favorite,” she’d messaged. I’ve never forgotten that appeal.

Two hard bangs to the side of the delivery van rouse me from the memory and I exit quickly, make my way to the back, and unload wedding dress after wedding dress from the metal rods inside. I used to cringe at the irony of a divorced man delivering bridal attire for a paycheck. Now, I whistle as they fly away to destinations unknown, much like Madeline. I know better than to ask where she is when she’s feeling generous enough to call me at odd hours of the day asking her litany of questions.

“Tell me about the latest one, Rey! Was she a face rider? Pillow queen? Did she squeal when you slid your tongue against her asshole?!”

I look up at the darkening sky and figure it’s been a week since I’ve heard from her. Something tells me she won’t go another night without asking her favorite question of all.

“Did I pick a good one for you?”


44) Like an Angel

Eighteen. If that.
No-one comes in here dressed for a funeral. Or alone, for that matter. Mental note: ratchet it back, but make her smile.
“Hey, girlfriend!” I enthuse, and she can barely lift her gaze from her dirty Cons.
“Hey.”
“I’m Gabriel. Like the Angel,” I declare sotto voce with a flourish, though without the handful of rice I normally scatter for effect.
The smile’s stifled, but there.
“Hey-ey, there’s my happy girl. Look at us. Two angels. Champagne?”
“I’m too young,” she shrugs, and I bound to the door to flip the sign. “And…”
“Ooh, and… I like! Dish! Dish!”
She flops into a couch, pulling me close, head pressed into my stomach. Everyone’s experimented, right? Let’s call it that.
The mascara and cheap cologne she’s dunked herself in will irreparably stain my Klein muscle shirt, so I inch a half-step back, tugging it over my head. She collapses again, shoulders jerking while I stroke her dark hair.
She gazes into my eyes, the blue swimming and my heart skips. Her hands roam my chest. Before long, one’s found my butt and the others loosening my trousers.
“Men enjoy this, right?” The voice affirms her lack of life experience, and if I close my eyes – it seems I have – the forwardness is truly something I welcome.
We’re shielded from sight of the passing traffic, extravagant window displays forming a natural barrier to curious grooms on chauffeuring duties.
She grabs my cock from my pants like Queen Bette, and then it’s Britney, bitch! Hands-free. They’re one on each cheek, pistoning me in and out, and I sense discomfort from this unnamed woman. My first in, oh my! Who knows? Hey, don’t they say ‘a mouth’s a mouth’?
“Gentle, baby girl. Don’t choke yourself.”
“You don’t like me?” The sigh of a deflating balloon.
“Feel me build. Start off slow, lips and tongue.”
She complies and I slip a hand down her baggy Ramones T to nestle her swollen pectoral.
A shiver; momentary lapse in rhythm before she resumes, with vigor. Long and slow slurps, a lick around the head and back down the shaft. Deeper, harder, building and pulsing. She wasn’t going to swall… oh, oh!
She holds me until our breathing normalizes, licking nectar at the slit like a hummingbird, and her smile returns.
“Daddy’s forcing marriage, you know. Because he saw me and Ryan like this, and now I’m…”
She rubs her belly, a slow, satisfied smile blooming. “But now, it’s yours in there.”
Oh, honey.
“So you didn’t… fuck?”
“Oh!”
“Ryan didn’t bend you over and stuff his cock between your legs?” I’m disgusting and arousing her. “Pound you until he came?”
“No, he only did what we just did. I’m… a v…”
“You’re intact.”
“Yeah, but now your baby’s in my tummy.”
“Let’s crack that champagne. You don’t need no wedding dress. Not ’til you’re good and ready, sweetheart. Not for Ryan, not for Daddy. Take some time to enjoy yourself. And others.”


21 comments

  1. I thought this prompt was difficult, writing a unique story that was also genuine flash fiction with a plot. I feel like most of the entries were scenes and not real stories. But I liked the first entry “Borrowed and Blue” because the dress point of view was unique and it had some backstory to it. Well done on that.

  2. Again, it was fascinating to see everyone’s take on the theme and the degree of success in meeting the requirement. My votes will always go to good writing, to pieces that grab me from the first few words but also to those writers who have really grasped what was required of them. This round was for ‘flash fiction’ which is a piece of writing that is a self-contained story in itself – not merely a scene. This immediately cut the majority of entries out of contention for my scoring, along with those where the wedding dress wasn’t an integral part of the story. Anyone can write a piece and put two specific words in, but it takes a good writer to ensure those two words actually mean something to the story.

    The pieces that stood out for me as fulfilling my interpretation of what the criteria was are No. 19 (Silk, Satin and Lace), No. 1 (Something Borrowed, Something Blue), No. 3 (Something Old, Something New). As well as being true flash fiction, these pieces were imaginative and beautifully written.

    The pieces that I really enjoyed, but just missed out on my three votes were No. 7 (The End), No. 15 (Second Thoughts).

    While I really loved the writing in No. 32 (Black and White), this was a case of where the wedding dress could have been any white dress.

    I also really loved the story of No. 18 (The Hitch Hiker) but I felt it would have been improved if there’d been just a hint at the very start that she was wearing a wedding dress, maybe a hint of white lace above the boots, or how the white was now dust stained, or if the driver had commented. For me, it seemed the dress was just thrown in at the end and how the character brought it up was a bit contrived and unrealistic. If these issues had been fixed, this would have been in my top 3.

    I really appreciated the structure of No. 40 (12 Years) as it really worked as flash fiction, but I was confused and unclear about what the Bad Thing was and its relevance and whether she was still in the relationship. For me, if I’m confused it detracts from even good writing. I don’t want to have to work at trying to work out what’s going on.

    Some comments on those pieces that I felt didn’t do so well :

    No. 17 (White Wedding) I enjoy first person writing but it’s quite difficult to do without (as in this piece) starting most paragraphs with ‘I’. It takes a lot more writing effort to avoid doing this and its what detracted from this piece.

    No. 5 (The Right Place) This piece had me confused from the two lines. I had no idea what was happening and that put me off wanting to know more.

    Same for No. 22 (The Dustman Only Comes…) No idea what was going on so lost me from the start. Also No. 6 (The Last Time) but with this one I just didn’t understand anything about the story at all.

    Another varied and interesting selection !!

  3. I eventually managed to narrow these down to a short list of just 8.
    Number 1 was easy for me, I loved ‘Something Borrowed, Something Blue’ – original, a very clever idea and beautifully written.
    The other 7 (in numerical order) were: 8, 11, 18, 25, 36, 38 & 40.

    Bravo all…

  4. Lots of creative themes in between the more expected ones. I really enjoyed this round!
    Some of my favorites were:
    9- Congratulating Eve
    15- Second Thoughts
    38- Liberation
    34- Thrift Store Find
    26- The Last Clean Thing

  5. 1. This story was fantastic and it really stood out from the others because it was so different. I loved that you wrote the story from the dress’s point of view. I especially loved the last line!

    3. This was a very sexy read! I really liked the phrase “slutty life sized doll” and the last line was great. I also enjoyed how she experienced her first squirt on the dress.

    6. Very unique idea! The story was beautifully written, dark and sad, but it wasn’t very smutty. Even without much sex, it was still one of my favorite stories this round.

    9. What a great wedding surprise! This story was really hot. I really liked the line about him wanting to feel other guys fucking his wife.

    11. This story was very different from the other submissions. I liked that it was a little creepy, and the ending was a complete surprise.

    29. I loved this story. The dialogue was very sexy, the repetition of the word mine was perfect.

    31. What a sexy way for the character to get her revenge! I loved this idea and it seems like it would feel really good.

    40. This story made me tear up at the end. It was extremely sad but very well told. I’m glad the character was able to find some peace in the end.

  6. 1) Clever, filthy and romantic. Good job!
    4) I think this might be the first trans love story we’ve seen in here this year? And it’s fantastic. More please!
    5) Delicious! I also like the nod to other body types.
    6) I didn’t see that ending coming, but I want to see more!
    7) I love smutty stories that are anchored in dark times and disappointments. That’s a challenge to pull off, but yours is another good example.
    11) Oh wow, what a great fucking story.
    12) Kinda makes me wonder why she left!
    13) This one made me laugh with delight. I equated spunk with streamers and rice. Quite an image you painted there!
    17) I loved this story but the closing with the father took me out of the lusty scene.
    20) That might be one of the best proposals I ever heard.
    22) Perhaps it’s just me, but I had a hard time with the timeline on this one. The language seemed older than 1992. I thought the love scene came on rather quickly.
    23) LMAO!!! Nice twist.
    24) Very clever! I’d like to see this one expanded.
    26) Love it. Sexy and devastating.
    27) You had me rooting for the ex. I was mourning his loss and cheering him on to speak up!
    30) I could have used a little more smut on this one.
    39) Lovely story and prose. good job.
    40) I wasn’t 100% sure what happened in the beginning and what their situation was, but it’s so poetic and full of meaning, I couldn’t help but love it.
    Shortlist: 1, 2, 4, 6, 7, 11, 13, 23, 26, 27, 32, 33, 36, 40, 42.

  7. It may have been the prompt, but there were a lot of mixed genres in these stories which I enjoyed tremendously – there are a lot of talented writers here and not just in erotica. The ‘Something borrowed’ and ‘one last fuck’ theme was repeated often – usually this would have been a negative but the subsequent stories were all so varied and imaginative that it didn’t really matter. It does, perhaps, illustrate a point made in previous feedback that it’s worth having a think about whether someone else may have had the same idea.

    1) Something Borrowed, Something Blue. When I realised that this was written from the dress’s perspective I was gripped. Such a clever idea and such an erotic life you describe.

    3) Something old, something new. This is an excellent way to desecrate a wedding dress. Your story was so packed with hotness I could barely catch my breath – very enjoyable.

    4) The Elopement. Brilliantly written. So sweet yet so smutty – I love it when writers can show that both can intertwine.

    5) The Right Places. “a black bustier that did more presenting than supporting.” – I love this line! Good to see a story where ‘wedding dress’ is barely relevant to the plot. Also, the way in which you describe Elia’s increasing confidence is pure brilliance.

    6) One Last Time. Wow, this is some pretty powerful horror. Really impressive. The jolt from the deeply erotic final few paragraphs back to horror again was just…wow. So good.

    7) The End. This was packed with raw emotion and passion, very well described. I’d have liked to have had an explanation as to why the wedding dress was there.

    11) White Dress. Truly an enchanting story and an imaginative use of the prompt.

    14) Let’s Make A Deal. Very pornographic! An interesting and imaginative concept, although I’m not sure why a tailor is wearing shorts?

    15) Second Thoughts. Great to read a story with a relationship that seems rarely used in erotica. The description of a ‘frothy’ wedding dress was highly amusing!

    18) The Hitchhiker. Such great characters! I liked the quick yet descriptive set up too. Great work!

    19) Satin, Silk, and Lace. Very well written – I was easily transported into this scene. It did, however, seem a bit lacking in smut.

    20) Late at Night. Ohhh Rory, don’t leave the poor lady waiting! Enjoyable, fun and frantic story.

    21) A Captain’s Ransom. An epic story in so few words, great stuff. I loved your story, especially being thrown by the twist and having to re-read.

    22) The Dustman Only Comes…. Your erotic descriptions are wonderful, you clearly have a lot of skill in this genre. You also made it very easy to picture the Dustman. However, the story seemed to skip quite a lot – one moment he’s being hugged by the Dustman, the next he’s got his face buried in his pubes without explanation.

    25) Night Shift. The ending was a bit abrupt (was it a dream?), but other than that this was a highly enjoyable, scorching hot read.

    26) The Last Clean Thing. Really, really like the mixed genres. You’ve masterfully painted this post-apocalyptic world and filled it with an expertly-written story of loss and lust.

    29) Wedded Bliss. Two very long paragraphs which I think could have been broken up, but otherwise a brilliant, erotic story. I particularly liked the introduction of the alter at the end of the first para, completely reshaping my imagination. The description of nipples against cold surface was also very good.

    30) Money Bags. This didn’t seem to contain any smut. Using a prompt as just a small part of your story was brave, which I like!

    31) Icing on the Cake. Gloriously smutty, so much delicious filth in one short story. An interesting premise, although the first paragraph started describing a story which didn’t seem to really relate to the remaining story.

    32) Black and white. Ugh, devastating! Great writing here, well done. I especially like the character of ‘her’ and how she’s described. Also; “blew away any stereotypes of gendered desire that had cluttered his brain” – YES!

    35) The Price of Love. Excellent ending and a breathtaking story.

    39) Afternoon In The Sun. The forlorn nature of this character is described wonderfully. I also impressed at how the pace quickens during the more passionate recollections. Subtly smutty and a captivating story.

    40) 12 Years. Brilliant writing. Packed with sexiness and melancholy. Such a great idea to thread in anniversary materials. The way in which the reader is gently led towards the sad, inevitable ending is pure genius.

    42) Unwedded Bliss. An easily believable scenario thanks to it being so well described. The premise is perhaps a little unoriginal, but the clever way you’ve written it makes that unimportant. I also enjoyed the slow build up to the very sexy ending.

    44) Like an Angel. Both characters were described so well they felt entirely life-like by the end. Daring to have her be so young, but Gabriel’s character showed expertly-written sensitivity. I loved the plot and I loved how you managed to incorporate smut and sexiness despite the other emotions.

  8. Good work on this round, writers – I feel that the quality of the writing, and the plot ideas that are being submitted have both massively improved. I very much enjoyed reading these!

    22 (10 points)
    What I liked: One of my faves – truly original, touching and sexy all at the same time. Plus, it shows great skill in character sketching.
    What I thought could be improved: Not much at all, to be honest. There’s just the odd clunky line like ‘He stepped between my hands.’

    26 (9 points)
    What I liked: Absolutely one of my faves – the thematic contrast between the white of the dress and the dirt of the contagion is super effective, but you’ve delivered on the sexy front, too – ‘a bridal veil soaked in my own come heaped between my legs’ is a great taste of what’s to come.
    What I thought could be improved: I don’t really have anything, to be honest – great work!

    12 (8 points)
    What I liked: I love infidelity erotica, so this premise is a super hot one for me.
    What I thought could be improved: The beginning section is not quite working, in my opinion – what is the relevance of mentioning all the waiting around at weddings?

    1 (7 points)
    What I liked: The point of view, obviously, but also that you haven’t relied on that to stand out – the quality of your descriptions is excellent, too.
    What I thought could be improved: The lack of surprise in the plot – the ending is exactly as the reader would expect, which is something you might want to consider in future rounds.

    42 (6 points)
    What I liked: This is written is very good, confident prose, which made it a pleasure to read, and it’s also very sexy.
    What I thought could be improved: I enjoyed this because it matches my personal tastes and is well written, but you took a gamble, because it’s not the most original premise.

    8 (5 points)
    What I liked: Oh, this is creepy! And because it’s creepy I find it super appealing. I like the detail about the television, too.
    What I thought could be improved: Careful that the dialogue doesn’t become confusing – who is saying ‘It’s all right Julian. He likes to watch’?

    43 (4 points)
    What I liked: Sexy, sexy, sexy. And original. Nice.
    What I thought could be improved: It took me a while to figure out the ending, which could be because I was being slow, but I did wonder if it was because you’ve managed to fit so much into the limited wordcount.

    16 (3 points)
    What I liked: I really like this – it manages to take a serious topic, include some properly funny lines of dialogue and have sexy bits too.
    What I thought could be improved: I was a bit confused as to why they wouldn’t have been able to be in contact at all while they were separated, but this is perhaps just my own naivety.

    4 (2 points)
    What I liked: Technically excellent writing, and description that works. Plus, nice to see characters who aren’t cis and the bit about fucking vs making love is really thoughtfully done.
    What I thought could be improved: Not so much a suggestion for improvement, as a concern. If the author of this piece isn’t trans, I feel a little like it’s not their story to tell, although that is obviously just my personal take, and others may feel differently.

    2
    What I liked: The ending – it’s not sexy, but it is cute and funny, in a way that really works. Also, the effort you’ve gone to to give your bride a distinctive voice.
    What I thought could be improved: I’m not sure how original this premise is – the poly approach is one that a number of writers took, so this doesn’t stand out as much as it otherwise might.

    3
    What I liked: Lots of great descriptions of the dress, such as ‘my knees are patterned in red by the brocaded bodice.’ Very visually satisfying!
    What I thought could be improved: Lots of entries focused on the wedding dress being a way to move on, which sadly meant this didn’t stand out as much as it might have.

    5
    What I liked: I like the bridal model idea a lot – it’s really original. Good work! Plus, that final line
    What I thought could be improved: I know the wedding dress doesn’t have to be the main focus of the story, but I was disappointed that it didn’t feature more prominently.

    6
    What I liked: Good work on the smut front – very sexy!
    What I thought could be improved: I’m afraid I didn’t quite ‘get’ this story – probably my fault, but it was hard for me to engage with it.

    7
    What I liked: Ah, sad sex – always one of my faves – and there are some nice touches, like the bulge against her hip.
    What I thought could be improved: The cleaning out the closet thing feels too coincidental / convenient to me – it would be nice if we knew why she’d been cleaning out the closet.

    9
    What I liked: This is undeniably smutty, which, after all, is a key part of the brief!
    What I thought could be improved: I didn’t find this to be a particularly original premise – sorry.

    10
    What I liked: This almost scored points from me – I like both the dialogue and the setting.
    What I thought could be improved: The fiancé bit confused me – sorry.

    11
    What I liked: This is a nice idea, and you’re the only person in this round to have approached the prompt this way, which is always a good thing.
    What I thought could be improved: For me, this wasn’t arousing – it was more just sad, although that may have been the mood you were going for.

    13
    What I liked: This is undeniably smutty, which, after all, is a key part of the brief!
    What I thought could be improved: I didn’t find this to be a particularly original premise – sorry.

    14
    What I liked: This is undeniably smutty, which, after all, is a key part of the brief!
    What I thought could be improved: I’m afraid I’m confused by the multiple dresses in this story, as well as how the tailor would be able to get her dress as good as new in just twenty minutes.

    15
    What I liked: I liked the dialogue a lot – Hannah especially has a great distinctive voice.
    What I thought could be improved: I didn’t find this to be a particularly original premise – sorry.

    17
    What I liked: I very much liked the bit where he pockets her knickers.
    What I thought could be improved: I didn’t find this to be a particularly original premise – sorry.

    18
    What I liked: I thought you did the runaway bride theme nicely even though it’s perhaps not the most original idea. You have lots of good description.
    What I thought could be improved: I’m afraid I found the bit where she explains it’s her wedding dress a bit clunky – could you have made the reveal a bit smoother somehow?

    19
    What I liked: This is a premise I’m surprised more people didn’t go with because it’s so sexy, I think, although I liked how you added the element of competition to keep it fresh.
    What I thought could be improved: The first paragraph is a little wordy, which means the story takes a while to get into.

    20
    What I liked: This very nearly made my shortlist – it’s an idea I find very sexy and you’ve executed it well.
    What I thought could be improved: There’s the odd typo in this – ‘bend you over’, which can give the impression it was a bit rushed.

    21
    What I liked: I like the scenario – it’s original and it’s fun.
    What I thought could be improved: There was quite a lot going on for such a short piece, so I found it confusing in places.

    23
    What I liked: I liked the paragraph about the possibility of the narrator’s mum having a thing for Tom.
    What I thought could be improved: I found this hard to follow – sorry.

    24
    What I liked: The premise – you’ve tried to do something a bit different with the prompt, which is always a good way to go.
    What I thought could be improved: As with the previous story, I wasn’t quite sure what was happening at points here.

    25
    What I liked: This is a very clever take on the premise, good work!
    What I thought could be improved: Because I couldn’t work out if the mannequin was supposed to have come to life (I guess so), I found it hard to engage with the sexy elements of this.

    27
    What I liked: This is written is very good, confident prose, which made it a pleasure to read.
    What I thought could be improved: I didn’t find this to be a particularly original premise – sorry.

    28
    What I liked: That you put a fresh spin on the idea of finding a dress at the back of the closet – nice work.
    What I thought could be improved: I found some of the dialogue a bit clunky, I’m afraid.

    29
    What I liked: This is undeniably smutty, which, after all, is a key part of the brief
    What I thought could be improved: This doesn’t have much plot, I’m afraid – it would be good if it had more story structure, rather than just being a sex scene.

    30
    What I liked: This nearly made my shortlist – there’s something in the idea of the consignment shop that I found very appealing.
    What I thought could be improved: There’s the odd minor mistake, I think, like ‘and here another.’

    31
    What I liked: I thought your premise was really nicely established in the first couple of paragraphs.
    What I thought could be improved: Once the sex began, I felt like the story became a bit generic – I’d have liked to see you maintain the originality of the beginning.

    32
    What I liked: I liked the way you opened with someone dressed it black – it makes your story memorable, for sure.
    What I thought could be improved: There are a few issues with the sequence of tenses, such as ‘she has just told him they were done.’

    33
    What I liked: That this has a clear plot, with a good reveal at the end.
    What I thought could be improved: it’s a little predictable what the reveal will be, sorry.

    34
    What I liked: I liked the buying of the wedding dress wasn’t planned – it was quite touching how your character was drawn to a dress he wasn’t expecting to come across.
    What I thought could be improved: I think it’s unfortunate for you that this round saw more men in wedding dresses than I would have predicted, certainly, but because it occurs a few times, this feels less fresh than it otherwise might.

    35
    What I liked: Some of the dialogue, such as ‘I couldn’t waste the make up,’ is really nice.
    What I thought could be improved: I’m not a massive fan of reveals where it turns out to have been the character’s partner all along, sorry.

    36
    What I liked: This is written in good, confident prose, which made it a pleasure to read.
    What I thought could be improved: I didn’t find this to be a particularly original premise – sorry.

    37
    What I liked: It’s a peculiarity of mine, but there’s nothing I like more than a story about an unhappy couple
    What I thought could be improved: I’m afraid I’m not sure the actual sex in this scene is particularly sexy, because of phrases like ‘he entered her.’

    38
    What I liked: I really like the opening paragraph – it paints the scene very clearly, without wasting any of the limited wordcount.
    What I thought could be improved: I think it’s unfortunate for you that someone else in this round wrote about the death of a grandparent, because it is an original idea – it’s just that I found your take on the topic more touching than smutty.

    39
    What I liked: This is undeniably smutty, which, after all, is a key part of the brief!
    What I thought could be improved: I’m afraid I thought this was too tangentially linked to the prompt, sorry.

    40
    What I liked: Another of my faves – it’s subtlely, but assuredly written, and it left enough space for me, the reader, to fill in the gaps using my own imagination, which is fantastic.
    What I thought could be improved: I did wonder if there was anything you could have done to make the unfolding of the plot more surprising – after the first few anniversaries, it’s fairly obvious where it’s going to end up.

    41
    What I liked: This is a fun take on the idea of a wedding rehearsal – nice
    What I thought could be improved: Personally, I couldn’t relate to your characters, and so I found it hard to find this erotic, sorry.

    44
    What I liked: This is undeniably smutty, which, after all, is a key part of the brief!
    What I thought could be improved: Careful with your formatting – you should either indent each new paragraph or have a line break between them.

    1. Hi writers,
      I’m so sorry – it’s been *a week* and as a result, my top 10 above are not accurate regarding the votes I actually submitted to Marie. My correct voting order is as follows:
      10 points – 22. The Dustman Only Comes…
      9 points – 26. The Last Clean Thing
      8 points – 40. 12 Years
      7 points – 1. Something Borrowed, Something Blue
      6 points – 42. Unwedded Bliss
      5 points – 8. Husband and Wife
      4 points – 43. Random Acts
      3 points – 16. Citizen XXX
      2 points – 4. The Elopement

      Sorry!

      Charlie

  9. Despite so many similarly titled pieces, I felt that these were much more varied than last round. There were very few with the same premise, so good job everyone!!!

    1. Something Borrowed, Something Blue- beautiful piece of flash from the POV of the dress. Very sensual!
    2. Three Nuptial- Love that the father knows and jokes about it in the end! Great little twist on the prompt that Kay is married to 2 men!
    3. Something Old, Something New- nice climax at the climax!
    4. The Elopement- I had to read this twice to really get it… not because of your writing, but because of my ignorance. I think you did a good job showing a non-cis couple and captured what they might be feeling on their wedding night in a way that everyone can sympathize with. Good job!
    5. The Right Places- I love the new relationship and appreciation for curves you show here. As a curvy girl myself, I cherish stories like this!
    6. One Last Time- very eerie, spooky story! I’d love some more back story on why they entered the suicide forest in the first place!
    7. The End- well that’s one way to end a relationship! The wedding dress kind of seems tacked on at the end.
    8. Husband and Wife- I really liked where you were going with this up until the last line. It would have been more impactful if you just said the husband locked the door. I think you should definitely try to continue this story after the competition! It’s got great potential!!!
    9. Congratulating Eve- Hot! Sounds like my kind of wedding 😉
    10. Urban Explorers- this has the makings of hot, but you stop right before you get to it! Love the setting and your take on the prompt!
    11. White Dress- interesting ghost story! Great setting. I would’ve liked to see more smut!
    12. Something Old- this is definitely a hot idea, but for me, it left more questions than answers… how did he know about the wedding? How did he get in? Where is she that no one else is there and hears them? I think this will work really well as a longer piece… you should definitely continue working on it!
    13. Group Shot- while I know this is a major fantasy, it is not one of mine. That said, you wrote it well! Good imagery throughout.
    14. Let’s Make a Deal- Ha! Very hot little scene here! I would’ve loved the last line to be something more like “already paid in full” or something like that!
    15. Second Thoughts- I love the idea of a a woman marrying a man and being allowed to keep a female dom on the side. Would’ve liked to see more than spanking!
    16. Citizen XXX- while I love the premise, I think you explain too much in the beginning. The sex scene is hot and different (bravo!), but the last word being “butt” kind of took me out of the story.
    17. Prenuptial Pussy- hot! You might want to use a thesaurus when you’re writing (I like to keep one open in a separate tab on my computer) because you used “slide” and “slid” at least 4 times, which is a lot in such a short piece.
    18. The Hitchhiker- Very teasing scene! I like the premise that she was running out on her wedding! Great idea!
    19. Satin, Silk, and Lace- this had the makings of a hot scene, but sadly ended before we could see any real action!
    20. Late At Night- the last line kind of threw me a little because it almost makes it sound like they aren’t going to get married. I think making it “we” instead of “we’d” would be clearer, but that’s just my opinion.
    21. A Captain’s Ransom- you tried to do a lot here and I think you pulled it off rather well! Still, I think you should expand this into a longer smut story! Would definitely be a fun read! Very unique take on the prompt!
    22. The Dustman Only Comes…- I’m not sure if this was a little choppy or poetic… possibly both! Sometimes leaving a story for a day or two to look at it with fresh eyes will help you distinguish what you wrote and what you MEANT to write.
    23. Little White Lies- clever girl! Very smart, unique piece! I like how you weaved smut in by having your MC imagine her mom’s thoughts!
    24. Something Borrowed…?- interesting take on the prompt. I would’ve liked to see some more heat!
    25. Night Shift- Very interesting take on the prompts. I like that you made it a fantasy rather than try to pull it off as real.
    26. The Last Clean Thing- Love the setting of this! The set-up was nice, too. There are a few points where you could have cut words to tighten it up and make your prose more impactful.
    27. White Wedding- I love the irony of the title and the last line is perfect! I’m not sure if you meant the first few paragraphs to be run-on sentences, but it took me out of the story a bit. The impact would have been better for me if they had been separated into sentences.
    28. Moving Day- I like that this was two males, but I don’t buy that Alex wouldn’t remember the dress in the closet right away, especially if it was only a few years ago. And the response from Michael is equally as unbelievable.
    29. Wedded Bliss- Fucking on the altar is a nice twist! Again, I feel like the wedding dress was just tacked on at the end, even though it could’ve easily been woven in earlier.
    30. Money Bags- Interesting take on the prompts, but I think this needed another read-through to smooth things out. It jumped a couple times and then ended just as the smut was about to start!
    31. Icing on the Cake- I take it that Vanessa and Rachel used to be a thing? I think you could tighten up the beginning to make that clear. Most of the first paragraph is unnecessary, as only the bride is alluded to again. Starting with the couple is confusing, because that’s not who the rest of the story is about.
    32. Black and White- You do a really nice job of showing his feelings throughout this piece up until the very end. I’d like to know what he was feeling as she walked away! I think you could clean up some of the perfect tenses to make room at the end.
    33. Last Minute Shopping- Very hot scene.
    34. Thrift Store Find- This is very well written and while I would’ve liked the sexy part to start sooner, last longer, I really appreciate what you did here.
    35. The Price of Love – This is a very hot piece. The last line makes it seem like they are marrying each other.
    36. The Game Changer- This really felt like it was written by a woman and I’m anxious to know if I’m wrong! I like the bending of gender norms in this. Another read through might have caught some of the errors.
    37. Something New- I really like the last line of this. Very vulnerable piece, nice job!
    38. Liberation- The letter was a nice touch. I’d like to see her reaction at the end instead of her putting it in the box.
    39. Afternoon In the Sun- This was beautiful and rather poetic. While I would have liked a little more action, I loved the style and voice of this.
    40. 12 Years- This was quite beautiful and different and heartbreaking, yet hopeful. I enjoyed this one!
    42. Unwedded Bliss- I liked the story, but you ended just as it was starting to get hot!!!
    43. Random Acts- “Muff Dive board” hahaha. This one was fun.
    44. Like an Angel- Wow… I’m not really sure what to say about that ending. I don’t think I followed it completely. There are a few parts that are choppy or unclear to me.

  10. The assignment said the flash fiction tale should contain the word Wedding Dress. When I started reading I wanted to find original content. Not particularly about a bride and groom at their wedding. I think my final choices reflect that. I said last month on my blog that last year one of the judges gave a great piece of advice – think of your first idea and then abandon it as if you have thought of itso many others would have too.

    At this stage the writers have come a long way . So I am just going to tell you why I liked my final four.

    1 – Something Borrowed, Something Blue
    When I read this first story I knew it would be in my top 3. A great idea and flows beautifully. It is not an easy thing to do, write from an objects POV. I remember doing it last year when I was in the smut marathon. This entry impressed me for tackling such a task and pulling me in from the start.

    8 – Husband and Wife
    This tale is dark, dingy and dirty. What not to like! A good use of dialogue and the writer described the scene in all its disgusting glory. At the end I really wanted to take that wedding dress off her and give it a good wash!

    18 – The Hitchhiker
    I found the scene depicted in this story really hot. I could imagine it clearly and liked the setting of the tale. The other reason I chose this entry was because there is a whole other story behind this one that we don’t know know about. This was a moment in time for the hitchhiker.

    The above were my final 3 choices but if I could have chosen a fourth this would have been it –

    38 – Liberation
    What is more sexy than a dirty love letter. I really liked this flash of mystery and the era it looks back to. I was probably drawn to it because a similar thing actually happened to me regarding a dead uncles letters from the past.

    Looking forward to the next round 😉

  11. So many great stories but here were some of my favourites.

    1. Something Borrowed – Interesting to get a story from the dresses point of view.
    6. One Last Time – The desperation of trying to find a lost love only to be double crossed by a malevolent wood sprite. Loved it.
    23. Little White Lies – This was a great turnabout and a sneaky way to get the wedding of your dreams.
    26. The Last Clean Thing – I was drawn to the desolate nature of this dystopia and there being only one good thing left in it. The last line was chilling.
    29. Wedded Bliss – The idea of claiming and the repeated “mine” rang true for me here. Irrevrently smutty and evocative.
    35. The Price Of Love – Again I thought this was a good twist on things. Great writing!

    Good luck to all the writers this Round.

  12. I loved this prompt. I think it really lends itself well to writing something sexy and there were a lot of different and unique stories here. There were a number of people who made the mistake of a too complicated or convoluted story for 500 words. They were good ideas but they needed 1000 words to do them justice.

    Full feedback below…. if anyone wants to chat to me about their story feel free to get in touch’

    1) Something Borrowed, Something Blue 10 points

    Writing from the point of view of an object is really tough to pull off, but oh boy you have nailed it with this story. I love how you have made the dress part of the bride’s family history. I really do love this story; it is sweet and tender but also full of lust and sexual tension. Watch out for repeating words though.

    “the anxious virgin who trembled as her groom fumbled with my long row of buttons as he revealed her body, tentatively touched naked skin.” too many ‘as’ the first one could be a ‘when’

    “The same soft gasp of pleasure that escaped the lips of that first bride’s lips now sighs from Sophie’s in this timeless ritual.” too many lips “The same soft gasp of pleasure that escaped the lips of that first bride, now sighs from Sophie’s in this timeless ritual.”

    2) Three Nuptial

    I like it; it definitely rattles along and is a fun happy story. Maybe a bit too heavy on the dialogue and it just feels a bit rushed to me. Also why would the best man be with the bride and not the groom? I know it is minor plot point but made it hard for me to enjoy the story. Also be careful with silly errors like capitals in the middle of a sentence

    “Well It is your day.” and “What Did I do to deserve the two of you?”

    3) Something old, Something new – 6 Points

    The sex in this is REALLY hot.

    These are two great lines in particular.
    “spreading my wetness with the delicacy of a calligrapher’s brush”
    “jerking muffled gasps from me; a ventriloquist bringing her slutty life-size doll to life.”

    The destruction of the dress really works in this piece, it feels right but also fucking sexy. My one negative point is that I really wanted some more reference to the past marriage. Just one line that summarized why it was so shit would have completed this story nicely.

    4) The Elopement

    Not sure about this one. I realised that it was not a hetro couple near the beginning but I will admit to being really confused by her leaking clit, it was only the prostate mention that made things click for me.

    However I like this story.

    Although this sentence doesn’t really make sense

    “Zoë still deserves better than a wedding than the one I gave her. ”

    should it have been?

    “Zoë still deserves a better wedding than the one I gave her.”

    5) The Right Places

    Nice little twist on the prompt. “A willow in a wedding dress? is a great visual line. The only bit I didn’t like was that he says they are missing the show, she says no and then does nothing to support that. It feels distracting to the story whereas maybe a vague reference to being late to dinner or something would have set better within the piece.

    I love the final sentence though.

    6) One Last Time

    I am confused about what is actually happening here? Is he committing suicide to join her?

    And watch out for missing words

    She was creature of the woods” needs to be ” ” She was A creature of the woods”

    And this is totally me and a very subjective thing but released just doesn’t sound sexy to me

    “Carl almost released with the warm heat of her lips.”

    7) The End

    Totally get break up sex but this literally goes from nothing to fucking in a blink of the eye and I just didn’t buy it.

    8) Husband and Wife

    This is weird and creepy and there is nothing wrong with that but it just feels too far from the norm to explain why this is happening. It just feels all a bit random.

    9) Congratulating Eve
    Great idea for a story and I this is definitely how weddings should be in my opinion, however where is her husband now? There is absolutely no reference to waking up with him and I find that odd. Also watch out for the long sentences and word repetition. For example “Eve, slippery from the previous attention, slipped her pussy over his hard cock slowly, easily.” too much slipped and slippery. slippery could have been ‘sticky’ or ‘wet’.

    10) Urban Explorers
    So the risk with using foreign language is that you lose either some of the meaning of the story or the flow as people go off to google translate. Because I was judging I did the latter but I suspect many people did the former. I know now what the words mean although google translate says the last one means “My fiance wanted?” So I am not really sure what that last sentence really says.

    11) White Dress

    “her mouth wide and beestung” great line

    Not 100% sure what is happening, I assume the dress is meant to lure men to their deaths? It is actually a great idea for a story but it needs another 500+ words to flesh it out and turn it into a real fantasy/fairy story where the ‘dress’ is fully explained.

    12) Something Old
    Why? There is absolutely no explanation for why she is not marrying him and they have not seen each other in years and yet instantly he is going down on her? Just couldn’t buy this scenario at all.

    13) Group Shot – 7 Points
    This is utterly filthy in so any ways. I am big fan of the idea of bukkake but that is pretty hard core destroying your wedding dress in the process but I love that the whole thing makes her feel like a goddess my only issue really is that the husband basically vanishes from the story the moment all the other men get their dicks out. Her mind does not turn to him once, not even at the end but you could easily edit that in to connect it back to them as a couple. Also really liked the play on words with the title.

    14) Let’s Make A Deal

    There are some plot issues in this one for me. Why is the dress ruined? Why is she happy to suck this guy off on her wedding day? Does not seem like the first thought a bride would have in this situation and why is she all dolled up in a LBD if she is about to get married?

    15) Second Thoughts
    I found this a bit confusing. I had to read it a couple of times to work out who was the bride and who was the mistress. Also not completely clear on the dynamic? Are they a triad? If so is she the Dom to both of them? And finally what on earth are reveal photos, I thought that was something to do with baby showers?

    16) Citizen XXX

    When you marry someone you become the co owner of their dick? Also I really don’t understand their plan and why they were apart for 2 years? None of that part of the story really makes sense to me which sadly means I feel too disconnected from it to find anything particularly arousing or sexy about it

    17) Prenuptial Pussy

    There is just nothing much to this story.

    18) The Hitchhiker 2 Points

    This is good writing. I can totally picture the place and the heat and the driver and her masturbating for him and him just watching is definitely hot but even though it was sexy I was left feeling like something was missing and I think that is the WHY. Why did she run away? Her actions just needed some context.

    19) Sating, Silk and Lace

    Yay for it being f/f but I am confused by what is happening physically,

    If she has rested her head back on her skirt and Charlotte is behind her how has she managed to put her hand up her skirt and be holding her leg?

    20) Late at night

    I love the idea for this story and a daring public fuck is always hot but this piece just doesn’t really flow for me and some of the wording is just odd

    “Then step apart. I want to claim my bride.”

    Then step apart just seems like the oddest thing to say.

    For this, for him. For something else.

    What does this mean, what something else?

    21) A Captain’s Ransom
    This absolutely has potential but I feel like this is one of those pieces where this is a summary for a longer story. I wanted to know more about this relationship between the two men and then the connection with the woman at the end. With another 500+ words you could really flesh this out and turn into a great piece.

    22) The Dustman Only Comes… 5 Points

    This is such strong writing. It is all visceral. The short snappy sentences really work so well and you have used it to such great effect, too deliver a punchy but complete story. I love that you referred to him as superhero, not the usual for a bin man but that makes it all the more sweet. Such intensity and the driving out of the grief through physical sensation is very relatable. However I was a bit confused by the height difference as for him to hug the tall guy and have his face in his pubes means he would have needed to be like 8ft tall.

    23) Little White Lies 4 Points

    There is some very strong writing. I like the interaction between the Mother and daughter and how it was threaded with her Mother’s smutty secret desires. Whilst maybe not the most explicit there is something deliciously taboo about the straight laced Mothers fantasies weaved into their time together. The weak part of the story is the ending though, her change from independent woman to what happened almost felt disappointing to me however Mum, who is the star of this piece, left me smiling.

    24) Something Borrowed

    I like the premise of this story. A dress that shares it memories with the wearer, but this is another one that feels like it would really benefit from another 500 words. The flashback needs to be longer, there needs to be more and the jump back to the present day really feels like it happened because you were running out of words rather than at the right time in the story. There needed to be a trigger that caused that shift in my opinion and for me personally I found her decision to abandon the dress sad. Maybe it could have afforded her other experiences too.

    25) Night Shift
    Found this piece hard to connect with and she slips into the fantasy too easily and there is no connection between them that makes this feel erotic to me.

    26) The Last Clean Thing
    This is well written but it doesn’t work for me. I feel like her thoughts are too cogent for someone in her situation. She seems to calm and in control and that makes me feel like she would be searching for food and water not wanking with a wedding dressing. Her thoughts needed to be more chaotic and desperate, more deranged and wild, the loss of all reality and inhibitions doesn’t really come across. Also I have to say that “scraping my walls” made me winch sadly and as that is right at the end my final thoughts as I read was ‘oh no’

    27) White Wedding. 9 Points

    Ohhhh great cliff hanger and wonderfully filthy smut too. Fucking the bride the night before her wedding in the bridal suite is definitely taboo and this piece really captures the throbbing lust of something that dirty. I really like how you wrote it from ‘his’ point of view as an observer of the wedding and a participant in the sex. It really does flow as a story.

    28) Moving Day
    This piece has potential. I love that he wore a wedding dress, that was a sweet twist on a m/m coupling but the writing needs to be tighter so that there could be more of the sexual interaction between them. You could cut out most of the paragraph about finding the dress and not knowing what it was. I mean do you really not remember your own wedding dress until you unzip the bag? That bit didn’t work for me. You could have just had him reaching in and pulling it out as his partner joined him and that would have freed up some words for you to play with to make a more satisfactory ending.

    29) Wedded Bliss

    These are just faceless nameless people. We know nothing about them apart from they are newlywed but without some context to them it is hard to engage with them and so the sex feels impersonal as a result.

    30) Money Bags
    I found this story really hard to read. You use the word Neighborhood far too much and the action lurches from the shop to the bar and a train with no real explanation for why and the wedding dress if completely incidental to the story

    31) Icing on the cake
    Why is she crying at the beginning? Who are Vanessa and Marc and why do we care about them? Clearly there is an issue between her and Vanessa but we have no idea what. Also the relationship to Kelsey, it is hard to fathom if they are regularly lovers or this is a 1st.

    32) Black and White
    Opening paragraph has some contradictions in it.
    She looked dark, unapproachable and brooding – she brought joy everywhere she went.
    That does not work.
    The wedding dress is completely incidental to the story. It really has nothing to do with either of the characters. And her just up and leaving is so random, why if everything was so magical?

    33) Last Minute Shopping
    So a woman walks in off the street grabs a guy by his nuts and they fuck. Why? There is absolutely not explanation or reason for this behaviour and it not exactly everyday occurrence. Without some context to the woman’s actions it just feels too random and farfetched without that.

    34) Thrift Store Find – 3 Points
    I really like the first 2/3rd’s of this story. His discover of the dress and his exploration of putting it on is sensual and sexy and absolutely captivated me. You have really captured his kink for the dress and the underwear is beautiful however I feel like that eroticism that has been built up between him and his purchase is somewhat lost when the partner shows up. That transition needed to be smoother. But the last line, brilliant.

    35) The Price of Lone

    There are some inconsistencies in this story that I found jarring. He lays her gently on the bed but then he is sliding a hand down her back and unzipping her dress. Also who wears their wedding dress to the rehearsal and if he is the groom why was not at the rehearsal?

    36) The Game Changer
    I like the premise for this story but some bits just didn’t work for me. Mainly that two weeks before her wedding she ditched that dress. Not only did that not ring true but it would actually have been far hotter if she had worn it, knowing full well that he would be the one wearing it on the wedding night.

    37) Something New
    Not sure about this one, something about it just doesn’t work for me. I get break up sex but neither of them seems to want to break up. In fact the end completely contradicts that.

    38) Liberation
    This is a bit confusing. I found myself having to read it a number of times to work out who the Canadian soldier was and the Dutch girl. How does she know about her if Betty never spoke of her? I feel like there is potential for a really interesting story here but you just didn’t have enough words to do is justice.

    39) Afternoon in the Sun
    Also confusing. She seems not to be able to write any more because she is not in her collar and restraints but why is she in a wedding dress that never was. I just don’t really get what happened here I’m afraid.

    40) 12 Years – 8 Points
    This one definitely grabbed my attention. I wasn’t exactly sure what was happening but the ending was beautifully and brilliantly done and sent me back to reread the whole thing again knowing that it was her journey through grief to a final homecoming to happiness again. There is a wonderful rawness and desperation to much of the sex but it felt like a much stronger and better story once I knew the ending. Maybe knowing that at the beginning would have given more context to her actions and bought out that rawness and sadness even more.

    41) The Rehearsal
    Some mistakes in this that I found affected my reading. It is cue not que. massaging it to it’s full eight inches – should be its. “making sure the ones without partners or groups knew what their jobs.” I think there is a word missing from the end of this sentence as it does not make sense.

    It is a fun and different idea for a story though but I didn’t find it sexy or hot.

    42) Unwedded Bliss
    The opening paragraph of this piece is excellent. It really grabbed me and pulled me into the story but despite that promise it never really hit the high spot for me. I found the fact he just instantly accepted her back without any commentary about her decision a bit odd. Also stays on a dress are the boning in a corset or even the garment itself. You can’t unbutton stays. I know it’s a minor thing but it totally took my head out of the story.

    43) Random Acts
    There is no explanation as to how they went from a onetime hook up to her basically picking women for him. It’s not bad writing I just feel like it is missing something plot wise.

    44) Like and Angel
    This is disjointed and really hard to read.
    “She grabs my cock from my pants like Queen Bette, and then it’s Britney, bitch! Hands-free.” I have no idea what Queen Bette means or the reference to Britney.
    There are other parts of this story I just get either because of the slang terms used and there are also quite a lot of grammatical errors.

  13. I was curious to see what writers would do with the prompt of ‘wedding dress’ and whether they will choose cliché settings (bride and groom fucking before the wedding, fucking the priest, fucking the best man or bridesmaid) or would surprise us with totally different settings. Also, I hoped writers wouldn’t turn the ‘wedding dress’ prompt into a BDSM setting, despite me loving to read BDSM stories. Like someone said in a different round, when you instantly have an idea for the assignment, throw it away and look for something else, as someone else might have thought of that idea already. That said, I was surprised at the different settings that were used in this round. Well done, everyone!

    1) Something Borrowed, Something Blue: I absolutely love this story and it might even be my favorite from this round. I love that the writing is from the perspective of the dress, and love the descriptions in the story and how the story flows. Love the last line too! Well done!

    2) Three Nuptial: I have read this story several times now, and still don’t know whether I like it or not. Somehow the dialogue feels to forced and I would’ve liked to have seen less of that. I like the general idea of the story, but it just didn’t work for me. Sorry.

    3) Something old, something new: First off, I like the setting of this story, and the girl on girl action. Please check your story for punctuation with your dialogue. Sometimes you use the period inside the dialogue punctuation, sometimes outside. This tend to take me out of the story, especially in this phase of the competition. Except for that, good story.

    4) The Elopement: I do love the original setting of this story. It’s written well, except that there were one or two places where I had to go back and re-read to make sure I understood correctly. This is more me than the writer.

    5) The Right Places: Just like with number 2, the dialogue here is too much, which takes me out of the story. I would’ve liked to see more narrative to tell your story.

    6) One Last Time: I like the original setting of this story, and it started out really strong, but felt weaker towards the end. Maybe this was intended because Carl is overpowered by the wood creature? My feeling is that the end of your story should’ve been stronger, maybe by bringing a vision of Claudia back as he felt himself change.

    7) The End: There is so much sadness in this story. It gripped me from the beginning. Well written.

    8) Husband and Wife: This is a bizarre setting for a story, and that’s exactly why I like it. It’s written in such a way that I could totally picture this scene in front of me, and where in two earlier stories the dialogue felt forced, or took me out of the story, here the dialogue worked perfectly. Definitely one of my favorites for this round.

    9) Congratulating Eve: A beautiful story, and I like the way they celebrate.

    10) Urban Explorers: Another story with more dialogue than narrative, and yet another where I feel there should’ve been more narrative to make the story stronger. Clever use of endearments in Spanish (?? Portuguese??), since these were easy to understand without having to look for a translation, which could take your reader out of your story.

    11) White Dress: What happened to Paolo? Why did he disappear and not answer, and why did he suddenly re-appear again? Why did the wedding dress seem to cast a spell over Erik? I like the idea of the wedding dress casting some kind of spell, but there are still too many questions unanswered in this story.

    12) Something Old: My first question when I finished reading this story was why she would even go through with the wedding? They have obviously missed each other, and to me it seems they belong together? A well written story, but just a snippet of what happens on a wedding day, and not really a full story, as it leaves me with too many questions. Sorry.

    13) Group shot: This is a strong story, and I like this version of a group shot, despite the fact that it will never be my fantasy to have a lot of men come on me.

    14) Let’s Make A Deal: One thing I don’t like in stories is sentences in capital letters. The first time is okay, but the second time could’ve been left out, as you are already using the dialogue tag ‘exclaimed’. The third time could’ve been left out too, as you have used an exclamation mark, which already emphasizes the words. LBD? Yes, little black dress, but in stories it’s better to write it out, than to use abbreviations. Okay, that said, I do like the setting of this story, and this not being another story about a wedding.

    15) Second Thoughts: I am in a D/s relationship, which means I also like to read stories about BDSM settings, but I have so hoped that this round would be one where no one writes about dominant and submissive. Your story definitely isn’t bad. This is me, not you. Sorry.

    16) Citizen XXX: This story is one of my favorites. It’s well-written, has an original setting and I like the way this marriage is consummated.

    17) Prenuptial Pussy: I like the balance between narrative and dialogue in this story. Where this story is well-written too, I would have liked to see an more original setting than sex between bride and groom right before the wedding.

    18) The Hitchhiker: I really like the setting of this story, and the runaway bride. I think you could’ve left out the last paragraph of the story, and have stopped with “Isn’t it pretty?”
    To me it seems the last sentence has little purpose.

    19) Satin, Silk, and Lace: I appreciate that the writer has moved away from any possible cliché settings. I like the time setting here, the idea of princes and princesses, but then the story is about the seamstresses and not about the royals. Well done!

    20) Late at Night: Another story with no cliché setting and a good balance between narrative and dialogue. I like it.

    21) A Captain’s Ransom: I do like how officer James sacrificed himself to do what the ladies wanted him to do, while all he wanted was Ramone. A great idea, and a story with potential to be expanded. One sentence I really liked: “James’ resolve crumbled as his cock surged.”

    22) The Dustman Only Comes…: Another story I love because of its original setting. I like the way you have mixed in some sadness and nostalgia with lust and sex.

    23) Little White Lies: I. love. This! I just love this! Everything about it! What a story!

    24) Something Borrowed…?: I like that even though in the beginning it seemed like this will be a story with a standard setting, it was not. I like the bit of ‘spookiness’ in this story. To be honest, I would actually have loved it if in the end she had decided to wear the dress, despite her experience.

    25) Night Shift: At first this story made me thing of the 80’s movie ‘Mannequin’, which is an absolute favorite of mine, but the further I read, the more I had to really do my best to read on. The writer tells too much and shows too little, and too many sentences start with ‘I’. Sorry.

    26) The Last Clean Thing: Yet another story where I like that the writer has come up with an original setting. I also like the tinge of sadness in this story.

    27) White Wedding: Your first paragraph already made it difficult for me to read this story, as it’s one long sentence, and I had to read it a couple of times. Then the second paragraph – one long sentence again. What I liked here is that it is written from a different perspective than that of the bride or groom, but with a variation of sentence lengths, there would have been better pacing of your story and your reader wouldn’t have been confused. Also, watch out with starting paragraph after paragraph with the same words.

    28) Moving Day: I like this! Another original setting which made me smile.

    29) Wedded Bliss: Just like I said with a previous story, I would’ve loved for this not to have a tinge of BDSM. Also, the setting is a bit cliché. Sorry.

    30) Money Bags: I’m sorry, but this story confused me, as it seems there are several story lines here which is too much for such a short piece. One moment she’s in the shop and the next she was in the bar? The transition is confusing.

    31) Icing on the Cake: I like the setting of this story, but to be honest, I was confused by the first paragraph once I have read the second. I think you could’ve left the first paragraph out and just called Vanessa ‘the bride’ further on in the story?

    32) Black and white: I like this story, the fact that it’s about ‘her’ and the contrast of her black clothes and the white wedding dress in the end. The title is well-chosen too.

    33) Last Minute Shopping: Somehow the first four paragraphs all read like different introductions to your story. I think you could’ve combined those all into one. Your story might even have been stronger had you started out with ‘wanna fuck?’

    34) Thrift Store Find: Another story between two men including a wedding dress, and these are the kind of settings I like. This one is one of my favorites of similar stories, because of the way he prepared himself for his partner, and the way his preparation was appreciated.

    35) The Price of Love: I love the twist at the end. You might have wanted to cut back on a bit of unnecessary dialogue, but other than that, this is a good story.

    36) The Game Changer: Another story I really like because of the original setting.

    37) Something New: I like this original break-up story, the way the story is sexy but with a sad undertone to it.

    38) Liberation: The nostalgia here makes this story special. A way to have made your story stronger was to use words from the letter from way back then between paragraphs of what’s happening now, and by that way telling two stories intertwined with each other.
    Only now that I do the feedback I noticed you have used a one word title, while that wasn’t in the assignment. I will pay better attention in the next rounds.

    39) Afternoon In The Sun: Another story filled with nostalgia and a tinge of sadness. The way you have mentioned the cage, the shackles, and the cane is subtle and beautiful, and also the way you mentioned her writing then and not writing now, but keeping the hope to write again tomorrow… I like it.

    40) 12 Years: I don’t know why, but this story brought a lump in my throat. Only one thing: I would have liked to know what the ‘bad thing’ was that happened, but even without that knowledge, this is a good story.

    41) The Rehearsal: I’m sorry, but where I like the setting here, I just couldn’t get into the story, despite reading it several times.

    42) Unwedded Bliss: I like this story of a runaway bride, like how you have balanced the narrative and dialogue, and like his reaction too. Only thing I wouldn’t have mind if it was left out, is the spanking in the end.

    43) Random Acts: I love he question at the end, like the memories shared, and like the way the story is told. You managed to give me a good image of Madeline without telling me what she looks like, but showing it.

    44) Like an Angel: I have no idea what to say about this story…

  14. #1 This was one of my favorites! I loved the personification of the wedding dress. The best line was “she was left unenlightened about the elemental joys of fucking”
    #3 Using the dress to symbolize the end of her marriage as well as having some hot sex was an enjoyable combo!
    #7 While reading through this I worried that you’d forgotten the requirement, but having the wedding dress mentioned last was perfect
    #8 Your story was perfectly creepy and I’d love to know more about the Julian fuckery going on with that husband and wife. Why did they lock the door? Will he die after she has him? Or will she keep him for a while?
    #9 Of all the stories, this one seemed incredibly hot. I’m not sure whether it was Eve having her wedding dress torn to shreds or getting fucked by the wedding guests.
    #11 I’m fond of ghost stories and this one was a doozy. You did a nice job setting up the scenario and drawing the reader into Erik’s vision of the woman in the white dress. The final image of the dress was perfect!
    #12 The use of “Always” as the final word reminded me of Snape from the Harry Potter series. It would be intriguing to read more about these two characters and find out why they aren’t together.
    #13 I thought you wrote this well, but having a bunch of men cum on a bride on her wedding day doesn’t seem like much fun for the bride. But, that may just be me. I would’ve enjoyed having them fuck her instead.

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