The expression on her face! Frisked on her wedding day. There had to be a story in that picture to tell. A sexy one? Perhaps she’s not as alarmed as she appears. Here is my 500 word story….
The only mistake I made on my wedding day was giving Betsy one of the rings Clive and I planned to exchange.
Before we left for church, my bridesmaid thrust the ring at me for safekeeping. “Bathroom.” Betsy has an titchy bladder.
Gripping both my skirt and posy, the ring nearly slipped between my fingers. I stuffed it down my cleavage. It felt right having it there, next to my heart.
With all the excitement, I forgot about the ring until halfway up the aisle. In front of the congregation, I couldn’t go hunting for it. Clive, resplendent in his suit, smiled. Nervously, I beamed. The ceremony began.
The priest collected one ring from the best man, then held out his hand for mine.
“I’ve lost it,” I whispered, mortified.
“Lost it?” mouthed Clive.
Betsy went pink. I grimaced.
Clive slipped the ring on my finger. We didn’t mention his.
We kissed, everyone applauded. With our family and friends parading behind, Clive escorted me out of the church. The photographer waited with her tripod. Clive winked at her. “Excuse me, folks, I need a private word with my wife.”
He marched me round the back of the old church. “What happened to the ring?”
“Betsy gave it to me and I put it down here,” I pointed at my cleavage. “For safe keeping. Except it slipped.”
He rolled his eyes to the skies. “I’ll search you.”
I gripped the bouquet tighter. “Everyone’s waiting.”
“They can wait a little longer.” He spun me about. “Up against the wall, arms spread.”
The perils of marrying a cop. He frisked me from my shoulders down, following the contours of my tight bodice. My toes curled up. In the cool shadow of the building, I felt hot. Real hot.
He knelt and scooped the skirts. “It could be caught in your panties.”
I squirmed as he tickled my calves and squeezed my eyes shut. “Honey, please, I’ll buy you another.”
“I chose that one specially.” He skated his hands up my thighs, reaching my ass. Two fierce smacks and I yelped. Moving around my hips, he dove between my thighs. I shivered as he slipped his fingers inside my panties.
“Is it in here?” He glided along my wet slit with his finger and poked my pussy.
I shook my head and balanced on tiptoes. Riding his hand up and down, I fucked his fingers. Unashamedly, I spread my hands along the wall and humped two of Clive’s fingers while my ass burnt with the sting of the slaps.
“No, it isn’t, is it?” He held up his other hand. My ring! “In your bouquet. Must have leant forward getting into the car.” He continued fucking my wet channel with vigour.
“Don’t come. Save it for later.”
I groaned, but answered obediently. “Yes, sir.”
Opening my eyes. Standing a few feet away, was the photographer, her camera snapping away.
“For prosperity, sweetheart,” murmured Clive in my ear, “A picture just for us.”
Within a few hours of posting this picture prompt, speedy Mira Brooks posted her story on her blog. You can read Mira’s post here. Thank you Mira for taking part and sharing your enthusiasm. If anyone else wants to join in, post your link in the comments. If you don’t have a blog, you can send me the story and I will post it on my blog.