The Wedding Present

Eventually though, the bliss of erotic love making runs out of energy. Even such as Simon and Tamara had just shared in as they dramatically turned this corner of their lives.

He lifted his body up on his arms and looked at her quizzically…..So she quizzically looked back at him.

“I don’t know what you planned to have on…..y’know….under the dress, on our wedding day? He said furtively, trying to capitalise on the moment.

“You can’t know that babey!” “That’s for the bride to know, and you to find out.” “For….your….self, on THE big day.” She states, running a finger down the bridge of his nose. “Oh and while we’re at it.” She says with just a hint of annoyance in her tone. “It is Thursday y’know…..THE big day!”

“Yea Thursday I know.” Protests Simon.

“Well don’t you think I’d ‘ave that side of things covered, along with EVERYTHIN’ else.” She said, mildly frustrated, trying to remind him that this ‘far off event’ was looming pretty imminent and not the far off distant speck it had remained for so long.

“Coarse, yea.” “But.” He continued. And shuffled slightly.

“But.” He continued. “I had this thought, well, I thought….”

“Yee…ss.” Where was he going with this, she pondered as he drew on some courage.

“I’d like it, VERY much (he carried on slowly as he lay on one elbow and fingered the duvet cover with his free hand) if you were to wear the same thing you had on last….” He had to think. “Friday?” “Yea, last Friday, Saturday, whatever it was.”

Tamara suddenly had the dirtiest look in her eyes, yet she also fidgeted embarrassedly at his suggestion. The very idea made her wet.

“Ooh, your a naughty boy Simon!” “Aren’t you!” “But I think…” And then her mind flashed back to the morning after the hen do, of her humiliation at the hands of Amelia in front of the other girls that had felt beneath the surface, like a locker room slut shaming.

“Yea I think I threw them out.” She said snippily. “Cheap tat anyway.” She ended with just a touch of regret, for the idea had actually sent a thrill up her.

She looked suddenly at Simon who now sauntered across the room naked to reach inside a draw.

Straightaway her brain registered the colour from a flash of red material in his hand, and as he flicked his wrist a pair of familiar knickers whizzed up into the air before abruptly slowing, the light material unable to gain purchase against the seemingly solid air mass of the bedroom. They landed slightly crumpled onto Tamara’s naked stomach and slid down on the cover.

She snatched at them instinctively, a look of incredulity on her shocked face.

“How?” She mouthed the words out loud. “You little sod!!” She threw at him. “You’ve….how did you get these?” She demanded. Her mind, back again to the b+b and Amelia’s little stunt. She suddenly raised her voice.

“Amelia!” “Did you get these from Amelia!” “Did you get these from her?”

Simon laughed nervously.

“No, please don’t blame her!” “I literally had to beg as a one time life’s favour for her to get these from you, and somehow she did!”

Tamara’s mouth was agape. Somewhere in there, she felt flattered that an item of such intimate significance to her (given what she’d done in those slutty, tramp knickers) could be so desired for him to be this crafty, but that was buried deep. She was embarrassed, and the fury she felt over being betrayed and humiliated spurred her to action.

“You little swine Simon!” She uttered as she advanced on him. It was payback time, Amelia could wait, would wait she told herself. She could deal with her collaborator in chief, and she would!

She dropped the pants where she was and stretched out a big, angry thigh before lifting up off the bed to stride purposefully towards him.

She was a strong woman which Simon admired, and a few stone heavier too. Her larger build was much sexier than some lithe model to him, but the way she was coming at him now, her angry and purposeful movements filled with intent, made him cower, her big thighs rippling from the physical shock as she walked and that thick, dark and tangled mass that protruded up around and above her groin, seemed bushier than ever with her temper flared up like this, it was an imposing sight.

Revenge came swift for Tamara. She was not a girl to be messed with, and she didn’t like the way she’d been made a fool of.

Remembering her teenage judo classes was going to come in handy here she thought swiftly. Simon was strong and fit for his size, but he wasn’t a big guy and being compromised from the off it didn’t take much for Tamara to get him on the floor, bending his wrists back she slowly forced him down, way down….

As she straddled his body she took him all the way to the ground, the heels of her feet chaffing him as she inched up alongside his torso before being forced to let go.

“Don’t you dare try ‘n move!” She warns him and his arms drop back behind his head in submission as she settles back on her haunches, her knees coming abruptly into his line of sight and as she moves up, they pass his ears, thighs brushing the sides of his face she squishes his cheeks with their weight and superior strength.

“Lie back!” She orders him, her voice demanding, even cruel.

He tilts his head back, surrounded by her thick, heavy thighs, that seem now like a huge and suffocating, impenetrable wall, the smell of her sex the only escape route on offer.

“Get, down and eat me, Simon!” She commands him as her dirty and hairy sex pushes into his chin. She inches forward, and then positioned right over his face, she lowers herself onto him and buries him in the forest.

“Uh…smell my cunt y’ little, bugger!” “Go on!”

“Ooh, that’s it.” “G’ y’ yea!” “Get lickin’ that bush!” “That’s what y’ want in’t it.”

“Oo…a!”

His tongue through the tangles he slides himself over her wetness, gloopeyness seeps into his throat. She lowers herself further down, pushing her weight onto his face, riding him, grinding herself onto him, using his face to get off.

“Oooh y…ea!” “That’s good.” “Lick it for me!”

“Taste…it!” “Ooh yea!”

“Mmm, you’re gonna make me cum!”

“Are you enjoyin’ that babe?” “That, ta’ste….”

“Been imaginin’ me in my slutty underwear ‘ave you? Wonderin’ what I got up to eh?” “Well now y’know!”

“And you like bein’ down there don’t you?” “His, cum still ‘side o’ me.” Her excitement suddenly builds up.

“It’s ‘is cum inside o’ me now!” “You’re lickin’ it, y’ are!” “You’d like that wouldn’t you, y’ dirty little bastad!” “Ooh, god!”

Although Simon was catching the drift of most of what Tamara was saying to him it was a muffled and rambling shpeel to him, tempered by the fact that he was losing oxygen, drowning in the sputum of their hot love making and he was swallowing to survive as she slid her hot pussy against him.

And Tamara, fantasising about a thick cock…almost twice the size of Simon around, stretching her and filling her, sliding in and out of her pussy, felt her climax start to build, as her clit rubbed up against his nose. She wallowed in the feeling of being on top and in command and she pushed herself as hard as she could onto his face, thrusting herself against him, fucking him.

He tried to ask her to stop, but the muted cry died in his mouth as the need to breathe dominated all else.

Then she reached in and frigged at herself and his nostrils sucked for his life.

“Yes I’m gonna cum!” “Y…es!” “Oh god!” “Flamin’ ‘eck, shit!” A great tension came over her and with her other hand she pulled him by the back of his head, into her.

“Lick….me….you fuckin’, bastard. Oh!” “How dare you….humiliate me…Simon!”

Simon was frantically licking at her wet hole, he had to make her cum, he just had to make her relinquish her suffocating hold of him.

A great tension came over her then and she couldn’t help but slide herself again more fully over his face than before. Now he really was struggling and a panic came over him, making him twist and writhe. But this only excited her more, her whole weight bore down against his desperate face as she enveloped him between those thick shuddering thighs.

“Oh, I’m cuming!! She cried out. “Ooh…!!” It came deeper now. “Nnnnn….” She was there.

Simon, practically in a battle for his life, flailing arms slapping at her huge thighs, all he can think, ‘must breathe, must breathe!’

She finally breaks out of her mania as the peak subsides, and heeding her poor frightened lover at last, pulls herself reluctantly backward and rests her groin on his slimy chin.

A rush of cold air it seemed to him, comes whooshing in, up through his nose and into his desperate lungs. He breathes deep, fills his mouth as the panic subsides.

“That’s enough.” Tamara say’s and moves herself forward once more, this time covering his nose with her open cunt, slurpy wet juices pushed up inside as she slides forward then back, no longer able to breath through his nose though he tries, the wet stuck up there uncomfortably but his mouth wide and the air around her ass free.

Wiggling her hips while his nose was inside was nice for Tamara, she slapped him and laughed, before hefting over him one big thigh but then paused and instead drove it up into his cock…..rubbing. She pushed herself into him, rubbed him against her knee, it’s small black hairs taunting and teasing his hard cock.

Then she climbs off but unexpectedly takes her hand to his throat. He hadn’t been expecting to choke again so soon…..his face reddens once more.

“Do y’ like it babey?”

“Do you like it when I can take away your breath?” She looks at him with a hard stare and taking a hand to his cock she slides along its length, wrapping and twisting around him. Letting go of his neck before plunging her wet tongue deep inside his mouth.

“Mmmm…” Comes her throaty murmur before she pulls off of him, and smiles, her eyes betraying her delight at this turning of the tables, at his complete submission.

“I’ve got you haven’t I now?” She asks him. Pulling his cock in a steady, squeezing rhythm from base to tip, keeping her gaze on him. Then brings her face closer while she wanks his him.

“Hmm…?” She asks. Then raises an eyebrow to him. “Got you completely haven’t I?”

“Y..es!” He replies quickly, heatedly.”

“Good.” “Cause I don’ want you steppin’ out’a line on me again do I?”

“No..!” he says, breathless once more.

“Mmm, ‘love it don’t you?” She grins salaciously, wickedly.

“Yess!!” His face tight with strain.

“Cum on me then!” She orders. “Cum on my tits!” “Now!!” She wanks faster, harder. Her rhythm becomes erratic, her lips curl as she leers at him. Quicker and quicker she goes, waiting for him to finish.

He groans deeply.

“Spunk on mi tits!!”

“Oh!!” He shoots himself over her. Splodgy smears rub into her breasts as she cavorts with him on her chest and up her neck. She sucks him into her mouth and tastes him, then sitting herself up pulls his head into her swaying fruit, face into her bosom, he licks her.

“You taste it too!” She tells him. “Taste that man’s cum on me!” “Y..ou lick’it up you..” And he does, he licks those tits all over, slobbering and careless.

“You’re a good boy now, aren’t you.” “Simon.”

He is silent, only the sounds of his swallowing returned to her.

“Gonna be more dirty knickers for you…there is.” His mouth sucks softly and gently at her right nipple, soothing, calming himself through her bust.

“I’m gonna get ’em ‘lot mor’ dirti for ya from now on.” Make you….sniff’em!”

“C’mon, that’s enough.” “Time I ‘ad a shower, ‘n you better get one ‘n all….dirty sod!”

Simon lies back, wasted. Pizzled and piffed at her claiming of him, her enjoyment of him. A subjugated male, sated, sort of reformed even. Tamara is calling the shots now, and he knows it. He follows her to the bathroom, humbled shall we say, feeling like some dirty cloth needing to be rinsed, and he seeks out her affections as if he is a subordinate member of some troop of monkeys, her favour is worth investing in, his happiness depends on her favour, that little bit of arrogance knocked from him, he just wants acceptance, her love and trust restored to him.

And in that warm soapy interlude he finds it, in the folds and humps of her soft skin as he soaps her down, and she relents and relaxes her command as the tranquility of the steamy warmth steals away the final outposts of her madness. A violet hue parades her mind.

“Sorry.” She says.

“What for?” The pistol whipped boy responds.

She laughs back gently, attentively.

“Come ‘ere you soft, ‘nana.” And and holding his face lovingly, delivers her soft kisses to him.