The Wedding Dress Surprise

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My name is Laura. I’m 5’3″, light skinned and blonde, lean with muscle definition. I am married to a white man named James but also have a secret latin lover named Ramoñ.

Ramoñ loves when I behave like a whore. He eggs it on and wants to hear about all the sexual adventures I have, far from my husband’s eyes. Every time I mess around with other men, I send him pictures, video, or audio while I’m doing it, to drive his imagination wild. And then I write the story for him so he knows every detail of my whoring. These are those stories.


It all started with a text at 8:30 on Wednesday morning. “I like married women,” Ramoñ texted. “No, you like married whores,” I reply.

I quickly rummage through the closet and find my wedding dress. He wants a whore, I’m going to show him how much of a whore I can be. I pull off the cleaning bag and put the dress on. “Hmm,” I think. “It’s a little big on me now but it still fits decently well. Eleven years later.” I chuckle.

A strapless white lace dress with intricate beadwork, still as beautiful as it was the day I married James. I look for the silk bow that went around my waist but it is nowhere to be found. Then I remember… I left it hanging from the bedpost of the honeymoon suite on my wedding night. Hmm. I quickly grab my phone and google Joann’s Fabrics- a store I know well because I can sew like the good little suburban wife Ramoñ knows I am. Joann’s opens at 9am. I quickly do time calculations… If I go right then, I could get a new ribbon and still get to work at a decent hour.

Then Ramoñ texts again: “I’m lying in bed naked right now.” I weigh my options. I could text Ramoñ nasty things right now, or I could get the ribbon and have nasty sex in person later. I vote for nasty sex over nasty texts, and I write him back: “I’d love to help you masturbate but I’m headed out the door.” I know I disappointed him, but I’ll make up for it later.

After getting the ribbon, I go to work. Talking to people and sending emails are a pleasant distraction, but my plans for the afternoon are still in the back of my mind. At 10:45 I check my email and I see that Ramoñ sent me one: “This is so us. You send a sweet good morning email. I love it but gotta snark it a little bit. You respond with an asshole email. Then you tell me you have cookies for me. So sweet. I melt a little bit. Send a nasty text. All by 8:48am. This is US.” And I smile when I read it, but then I think about my wedding dress in my car, and about “us”, and I email back, “Oh, there’s far more to us… I hope you’re ready for 3 PM.”

A few hours pass and I’m ready to get out of my office. I’m trying to move through my last meeting as quickly as I can but the student wants advice on applying to grad schools. “You’re not going to get into grad school, sweetheart,” I want to say, but I don’t. I struggle to be nice, but I am so impatient. I am not sure why I am so impatient, since I know Ramoñ won’t be done with his meeting until 3:00 anyway. But I still just want to get done with my meeting and get to Ramoñ’s place right away, as if it will make him get home faster.

Finally the student leaves my office and I look at the clock. 2:33. I text Ramoñ, “Heading over. Sooooo wet.” I jump in my car, drive to Ramoñ’s place, and think to myself that I better give his sweet dog Angie a long belly rub before I put on my wedding dress because otherwise she’ll jump all over me and the dress. She’s almost as demanding as Ramoñ when it comes to having my hands all over her, I think, smiling. I enter his apartment and give Angie as much attention as she wants. Then I head into the bedroom and I start texting Ramoñ.

“Can your boss tell how badly you want to get out of that meeting and fuck another man’s wife?”

“How much you want to push another man’s wife onto her knees”

“In front of the mirror”

“Pull up the back of her dress”

“So you can see her wet pussy”

“All ready for you”

“Waiting for you”

“Still his ring on her finger but your dick in her pussy”

“Your red handprint on her ass”

“Your mouth on her lips”

“Your tongue in her mouth”

“In another man’s wife”

“You know how his wife likes it better than he does”

Little did he know that while I was texting him, I was standing right in front of his bedroom mirror, imagining what I’d look like on my knees in front of it, my dress pulled up to my waist, my husband’s ring on my finger, his dick in my pussy, his red handprint on my ass. I was looking right in that mirror, with my wedding dress on, while I texted him. Then finally he responds, “I want you. Just finished.” I smile. Finally, his meeting is over and he’s on his way home. I text back:

“I’m ready for you”

“Waiting for you”

“Like a good little married whore”

I’m hoping it makes him walk a little faster to his car. I roll my eyes thinking about how slowly he walks. Walk faster, I silently demand of him. I keep texting, urging escort service him on.

“You LIKE fucking another man’s wife”

“You like her mouth”

“You like her pussy”

“You like her ass”

“You like her on her knees”

“On your bed”

“On your terrace”

“On her back”

“On top of you”

“In front of you”

“In your apartment”

“In your car”

“In her office”

“You LIKE fucking another man’s wife”

Then I see his texting bubbles pop up on the screen. They’re up for a while, and I’m impatiently waiting for his text to come through. Either someone must be talking to him while he is writing the text, or he’s driving, because it’s taking a while for him to respond. Finally, it comes through:

“I like owning her”

“His wife belongs to me”

I smile as I reply,

“Better claim your stake then”

“Because he had the last bid last night”

He’s driving home, can’t wait to see his whore. I go out onto the terrace, waiting. He walks in the door, and sees his dog Angie run in from outside. He wonders how she got out, but before he can finish the thought, I appear at the terrace door in my wedding dress, the beadwork flashing in the sunlight, my red painted toes drawing the eye to my strappy white heels. His eyes go wide at the sight of me. “Wow,” he says.

He knew I was horny but he was not expecting this. He has no idea how to react, but he gets a smile on his face a mile wide, like Christmas suddenly came early. “Wow,” he repeats as he walks to the bedroom and drops his workbag. “I heard you like married women,” I remark. “I heard you want to fuck another man’s wife.” His smile gets wider, and he shakes his head with a chuckle, as if he can’t believe I’m standing there in my wedding dress. “This is a first,” he responds, and because it IS a first for him, he isn’t even sure where to start. With me on my knees? On all fours? Rip the bow out first or keep it there? He can’t wait to fuck me in the dress I married another man in. It’s such a deliciously nasty fantasy.

He can’t resist touching me. He wraps his arms around me, runs his hands down my back, over my ass. A million thoughts go through his mind but too fast for him to process them. He leans down to kiss me, and I tilt my head up, and I can feel the passion in his lips, I can feel his hands run down my back and over the curve of my butt, then back up, over my wedding dress. He’s trying to decide where to start and he is buying yourself time to think, but his thoughts are scrambled everywhere and he can’t process them.

He goes into the bedroom and beckons me to join him. I walk in, right in front of the mirror, thinking about how I stood in front of a mirror just like that one in that same dress 11 years ago, on my wedding day to someone else. I took my vows in that dress, to love and to cherish as long as I might live. Then I see Ramoñ in the mirror. He still has that ridiculously happy smile on his face, still a little chuckle of disbelief when he looks at me. The whore he’s always wanted. I can’t help but smile.

He sits down on the edge of the bed, begins taking off his shoes. He has an almost astonished tinge to his voice when he says what a nasty fuck I am, how he loves it. I kiss his neck and his arm, running my fingers down his back as he takes off his shoes. The whole time he’s smiling like a fat kid who just got served dessert but he isn’t sure whether he wants to start with the cake or the ice cream first. I tell him that I had to run out that morning to get a new ribbon for my dress, since the one I wore on my wedding day was left tied to the bedpost in the honeymoon suite on my wedding night. He groans at that display of whorishness, squeezes his eyes shut.

His shoes finally off, he stands up and undresses, and I think to myself that was probably the fastest I’ve seen him undress. And I’ve seen him undress many times. I look up at him as he straightens up, and I notice that suddenly the ridiculously happy smile is gone and his eyes have gone hard. And I think to myself that I’ve seen that face before. My lover is gone and my master has now taken over. Almost like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. I smile up at him knowingly. He just looks back at me, orders me to get on my knees.

I slide off the edge of the bed, smooth my dress, and drop down to my knees. He towers over me, looking down at me, and holds his dick out. I slide it between my lips as he watches me in the mirror, and he groans. He grabs my head and shoves himself down my throat hard. He’s not wasting any time. He’s ready to fuck this whore hard in her wedding dress.

He watches me in the mirror as I gag on his dick, watching as my back arches when I gag, straining the bow on the back of my wedding dress. He releases my head and I start bobbing my head on his dick but as soon as I get into a rhythm, he suddenly changes his mind. He wants to see me gag again. He pushes my head back down. He watches my back arch again, london escorts my bow strain again, as I gag. I vomit in my mouth but swallow it.

Then suddenly he pulls out of my mouth, orders me to suck his balls. I obey my master’s command. He rubs his dick on my face as I suck his balls, telling me I’m a good little bitch. That James’s wife is a good little whore. I look up at him and take my mouth off his balls just long enough to ask if he wants to take a picture of James’s wife being a good little whore for him. Oh, he’s not going to pass that up. He immediately orders me to stand up as he grabs his phone from the bedside table.

He tells me to pose for him, first the back then the front. He tells me to go to my knees and pose again. He orders me to open my mouth, ready for a dick to enter, while he takes pictures. He’s going to save those pictures. He’s going to look at them over and over again. Thinking about that makes him want to do even more nasty things to James’s wife, and his mind goes wild.

While I’m still on my knees, he turns around, ordering me to lick his ass, pushing my head into his butt cheeks. He wants me to lick his butthole while wearing my wedding dress. I don’t even hesitate. I grab his hips. I want to please my master. I immediately start licking, grabbing a handful of his butt cheek and squeezing while I lick. I like touching him. I grasp his butt and leave my hand there as I reach between his legs with the other hand and grab his dick. MY dick.

I start moving my hand up and down the shaft while I shove my tongue into his asshole. If my master wants me to be a dirty whore then I will be the best dirty whore he’s ever had. But suddenly he pulls away from me again. He changed his mind again. He wants something else now. He wants James’s wife a million different ways at once and can’t decide what to do next. He wants it all.

He orders me on all fours in front of the mirror. I know what’s coming, and I make sure I’m close enough to the mirror to use it for leverage. He pulls up the back of my dress, the same dress I wore when I was announced to the church congregation as Mr. and Mrs. Grady. The tip of his dick touches my pussy and it is oh so wet for him. Just dripping. He pushes in easily. I look in the mirror, and I think, yep, this is exactly what I imagined when I was looking in the mirror and texting Ramoñ less than 30 minutes ago. Then I lose my thoughts as he wraps his strong hands around my hips and start pushing into me.

I love the way he feels inside me. I love the way Ramoñ’s hands hold my hips, firmly steadying them as he sinks in each thrust. I meet his eyes in the mirror and I suddenly see his hand raise up in the air, and as it swings down, I brace myself for impact. SMACK. SMACK. SMACK. Again and again and again. Then the other side, then back to the left side. He favors the left. He likes to look down at my ass when he smacks it, watch it tense with each hit, watch it bloom red under his hands.

I reach between my legs and start tickling his balls. He moans, “That’s right, touch my balls like a good little whore.” I start thrusting back on his dick, trying to bury it as deep as I can. I want to feel every last millimeter of it inside of me. He grabs my hair, yanking my head back, watching my face in the mirror as my breathing gets quicker, my neck fully thrown back. I slide my hand off his balls and start touching myself, my fingers quickly getting drenched in my pussy juice.

Then he takes over and starts thrusting hard into me, and I can’t keep my balance. I pull my hand off myself, put it on the mirror for leverage, smearing pussy juice all over it. I push back, harder and harder, his dick going so deep I can feel his hips slam against my ass. I feel his hands grip my hips hard and see his face screw up in the mirror as he grunts loudly and gives one last thrust, growling as he comes. Then suddenly he drops on my back, one hand on the floor next to me, his breathing ragged.

With the other hand, he reaches down between my legs. He fingers me, his dick still inside me, still filling me up. He tells me what a good little married bitch James’s wife is, what a nice whore I am. His fingers work their magic as he watches me in the mirror, grabbing my hair and pulling my head up so he can watch my face as I moan and whimper, soon coming on his fingers and sinking my shoulders to the carpet.

I’m spent, but there is no rest for the weary. Ramoñ likes to get all three holes every time. He pulls out of my pussy, about to push into my ass. But that last orgasm was a hard one, and it did him in. He sits back on the edge of the bed, and demands I suck him hard again. I immediately turn around, sit back on my ankles, and slide his pussy-juice soaked dick into my mouth, like a good little whore.

I can smell myself all over him, taste myself all over him. He shoves my head down, sinking himself into my mouth, gagging me. He tells me what a good little bitch I am, and I stop sucking london escort just long enough to pull my head up, meet his eyes, and say, “I’m well-trained by my master.” As I slide my mouth back down over his dick, I can feel the effect my words had on him. Instantly he is harder. “I’m training you,” he says. “I’m going to train you to be a good little bitch. A good little bitch for other men.”

I can feel him getting harder in my mouth as he talks. Then suddenly he grabs my hair and pulls my mouth off of him. He demands I get on all fours again, in front of the mirror. Again I know what’s coming, and it’s going to come hard, so I make sure to be close enough to the mirror for leverage again. He pulls the back of my dress up, wets the tip of his dick on my pussy, positions himself at the entrance to my ass, grabs my hips, and pushes in. I yelp at the first thrust.

He slides in, out, in again, slowly, letting me adjust, but on the very next move he pushes in hard, making me squeal aloud. He pulls halfway out and then pushes in hard again. He likes to hear me squeal. I put my hand on the mirror and thrust back against him, burying him in my ass. “That’s a good little whore,” he says. “James’s wife is a good little whore for me. A good buttfuck.”

I keep thrusting back into him, making sure I take as much of him as I can in my ass, making sure I squeeze my asshole closed so every thrust feels tight for him. The way a good little whore should. He grabs my hips and starts thrusting into me again, spanking me again, and it stings deep when he hits the same spot he hit before. Then suddenly he can’t take anymore and he comes hard in my ass, grunting as he fills me. I watch in the mirror as all the muscles in his shoulders and neck tense, his teeth clench, his eyes screw shut as he comes.

As his orgasm subsides, our eyes meet in the mirror, and I can tell he isn’t done yet. He’s not satisfied yet. His eyes are still hard. There will be more to come. He breaks eye contact and pulls out.

I’m still on all fours, my ass ready and waiting in case my master needs more. He picks up his phone. “I want another picture,” he says. “Move back.” I crawl backwards on my knees and obediently look up at the camera on his phone. I open my mouth and lick my lips. “Good girl,” he says as he takes a few photos. He wishes he had come on my face before he took those pictures. He puts the phone down, sits down on the edge of the bed. “Come here,” he says.

I crawl back to him, position myself between his legs. I know it’s time for the third hole. He pushes my head down and holds out his dick. He wants to come in my mouth, score himself a trifecta while I’m in my wedding dress. I slide my mouth onto him, and he pulls my hand over to take hold of his dick while he watches me work him hard again. He pushes my head down, but I don’t gag this time. “Good girl,” he says, groaning. He shoves my head down again. Still, I don’t gag. I’m getting much better at taking it deep.

I can feel him getting harder in my mouth again. It’s amazing how he can keep going, over and over, a seemingly endless supply of come. He lets go of my head and puts his hands beside himself on the bed, basking in how good the wetness of my mouth feels. Then he grabs my head, pulls me off of him. He lowers his face to mine. “You’re MINE. You belong to ME,” he says, as he kisses me hard. “You belong to ME.” I nod. “Yes, master,” I reply.

He pushes me down towards his dick again, using his hand to guide it back into my mouth. “Gag yourself,” he demands, and I do, pushing my head as far down as I can, until his dick is firmly in my throat, cutting off my breath. “Do it again,” he says, and I do. I’m an obedient little whore. I tickle his balls and he pulls me back off his dick, meeting my eyes with his.

“Who do you belong to?” he asks. I smile at him, knowing he knows the answer. “Who do you belong to?” he asks again. “You, master,” I say. “Always you.” He looks at me for a long second. He isn’t satisfied. He has a look in his eyes that says he wants more. He wants everything. He wants it all, all at once. He keeps ahold of my hair until I reach for his dick and slide it between my lips again. When he lets go of my hair, it’s almost reluctantly. He rests his hands beside his legs, and lets me take care of him. “That’s it. That’s what I like,” he says.

He’s exhausted the nasty sex for now. He is ready for some loving. Then suddenly he says, “Do it the way your husband likes it,” and I smile inwardly as I change my mouth movements into slow and steady swirls, licking around the tip of his dick while my hands move up and down the shaft. James’s wife is kneeling between Ramoñ’s legs, in her wedding dress, James’s ring on her finger, giving Ramoñ a blowjob the way her husband likes it.

“That’s a good little bitch,” he replies, but I can tell he doesn’t care for the swirling licks. It’s not his style. After a minute or so I go back to the tight, fast thrusts into my mouth, as if he is fucking my mouth like a pussy, and immediately he starts groaning. That’s Ramoñ’s style. That’s what he likes. He likes it hard. “Choke yourself,” he demands, and I do. Once. Twice. Three times in a row. He groans, and I can feel him get harder.

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