John Clayton - Practice does it

He maneuvered his lips into her cunt once more and again added his tongue to the titillating probing. He soundly massaged her clit with his wet tongue.

"Oh, my God, Davey! You're an animal, but don't you dare stop!"

Her fingers were touching his shoulders. She relaxed her frantic grip and touched them tenderly. Davey's cock was rearing its head again.

"Darling, fuck me! Oh, fuck me, please! I can't stand it any longer," she pleaded as she wiped perspiration from her forehead.

Instantly he was on top of her and moving her up the bed. Her legs were wide apart and quivering when he brought his ramrod-hard cock to the opening of her cunt. He slid its fat head in slowly. He inched it in farther. She sighed and held her breath. He pulled back.

"Ah!"

He drove it over her tender cunt-flesh and she caught her breath. He started sliding still farther. His cock's extra-wide girth rubbed every part of her inner chamber. Kay was breathing in fast short gasps. He let it slide into its hilt. Her whole cunt was burning on every side, her clit mashed against his cock's hard surface. He poked a little. He slid back a long way and then slid forward with a long even stroke.

"Oh, you're so sensational."

Her aroused clitoris felt the long enlarged expanse of his cock slide over it and Kay shuddered with ecstasy. Back and forth his long organ rubbed, picking up speed like a locomotive. Her hips rose and fell to meet his strokes. Their lips were sealed on each other's. Their hands were everywhere they could reach and still they kept their hips rocking in unison. Kay grew dizzy. He was fucking faster and all his muscles seemed tight. Every dozen or so strokes he would run his cock around in a circle and Kay would thrash in a delirium of passion.

They grunted like animals. Her body felt throbs and the throbs were getting closer together and more intense. They were closer, much closer. They were – OH! Kay screamed. Her body flopped helplessly under her husband's. Davey knew she had reached a climax and he continued his forceful fucking with the intention of making her feel as good as he could.

Kay had barely recovered from the orgasm when she felt it starting again. All the things she had learned from the cab driver, from Bill in the hay loft, from her cousin, from that man at The Pit Stop, from Vince the policeman, even the things she'd learned in her doctor's office, none of them, not any, could compare to this Davey was it for her.

Unaware of her silent prayer of gratitude, Davey drove his massive cock, swollen now with excitement, harder into her pink flesh. Its dark tone contrasted with the paleness of the woman under it. He threw it into her as hard and then as gently as he could, alternating and varying his strokes by instinct alone. She was building up to another climax and he dropped his lips onto her breast. Her climax washed over her and she was uncontrollably sighing and moaning. His firm young body kept fucking. Again she was overcome with the ecstasy of passion as her orgasms crashed one on another.

The heat in the furnace of her cunt was too much for Davey to resist. His organ was aflame with the cum generating in his balls. He felt her heat, heard the sighs his fucking was making her utter, felt the tender touch of her young beautiful hands on his flesh as he looked down at the willing bride so trustingly opening her whole self to him.

"I'm yours, Davey, I offer me to you."

That was the last temptation. He could hold back no longer. He gave in to the passion and without warning his cum swam through his cock gushing out the swollen head and splashed deep inside her cunt.

He fucked while his copious quantities of cum flowed unchecked out of his body into hers. He fucked triple-time so as to give as much pleasure as he was getting.

"Oh, darling, darling. Oh, I love you so." They lay locked in each other's arms and breathed pantingly, less desperately, more normally, quietly, stilly, peacefully.

Time was not real to them but eventually Davey spoke.

"Don't you think we ought to go back down there and say good-bye to our guests? Or do you think any of them ever want to see us again?"

"I think they won't leave till they see us; we've certainly given them a wedding to talk about."

"Hurry up, get back onto your gown, we'll thank them for coming and then cut out. My Aunt Bridget is dying to throw a handful of rice."

"Oh, my God!"

"What?"

"We didn't cut the cake."

Frantically, the still sweaty couple dressed. Kay's hair was best described as disarrayed. They helped each other dress, giggling like school children, and hurried downstairs.

Kay's mother spotted them coming toward the reception room and quickly moved to the door to speak softly in her daughter's ear.

"How could you! Is this how you start your married life, shirking your responsibilities? Your grandmother is furious."

"Mama, grandma eloped."

"Get in there and cut that damn cake, the band's ready to leave. Your father will have to pay for another six hours if they stay after four. How could you?"

The bride and groom, red in the face from exercise, giddily happy and excited, quickly drank their toast, cut the cake, posed for the photographer and accepted more congratulations.

The buzz from the assembled guests almost drowned out the four piece band. Kay's father was more drunk than sober and thought the whole disappearing act was funny. Her mother tried to look dignified and Davey's parents looked sick.

Years later when they were looking through their wedding album Kay nudged her portly greying husband and said, looking at the group photo showing her hair hanging sloppily on one side of her forehead and the disdainful faces of the wedding party, "Now that's what I call an unretouched wedding picture!"