Speaker 1: The private karaoke lounge was pumping like a second heartbeat,
all distorted, low end and shrieking pop vocals. I pressed
my thighs together on the velvet banquette and watched Maya
stumble through the chorus of some nineties throwback, her plastic
tiara slipping sideways through her blonde curls. The rest of
the bridal party shrieked encouragement, waving champagne flutes, their matching
satin robes gaping open over sequined mini dresses. She's so drunk,
murmured a voice beside my ear. I turned. Harrison Sterling
had materialized in the empty space next to me, the
bride's dad, a big broad man that I'd secretly had
a crush on for years. He was close, y, close
enough that his thigh pressed against mine through the fabric
of his slacks, close enough that I caught the scent
of him, whiskey and cedar and something sharper underneath, something warm.
She's getting married in two days, I said, not moving away.
She's allowed to be drunk, and what about the maid
of honor? His mouth hovered near my ear, not quite touching.
The words vibrated through my skin. Is she allowed to
be drunk? I turned my head. The movement brought our
faces inches apart. His eyes were dark in the karaoke
lounge's neon glow, blue swallowed by pupil. A faint smile
played at the corner of his mouth. We've never talked,
I said, who gives a fuck about talking? He whispered,
I've seen the way you've looked at me for years.
I've seen how you've le looked back. My pussy pulsed.
Let's throw caution to the wind. He uttered, Fuck your boyfriend,
fuck my wife, fuck your friend, the bride, my daughter.
It is about you and me and us fucking my
cunt instantly ached, I bit my lip, looked at him
with a smoldering glare. I leaned in close to his
ear and said, fuck yeah, you dirty, old bastard. The
elevator of the hotel was mirrored on all three sides.
I watched myself from multiple angles as Harrison pressed me
against the brass, railing, his mouth on my throat, his
hands rocking up my dress until the sequins bunched around
my waist. I looked like a stranger. Lips parted, cheeks flushed,
the mate of honor. Sash crumpled and twisted across my chest.
I've thought about this, Harrison said, against my skin at
Derek's engagement party. At the rehearsal dinner, during the fucking
cake tasting, for Christ's sake, my head fell back. The
elevator chimed seventh floor. He grabbed my hand and pulled
me into the hallway, passed closed doors and do not
disturb signs until we reached room seven one four, his room.
He fumbled the key card, swore under his breath, and
I laughed, a real laugh. Surprised out of me, romantic,
I said, shut up. The door swung open. I had
maybe half a second to register the room, generic hotel
art king size bed, Maya's wedding invitation still pinned to
the corkboard near the desk, and then his hands were
on my hips, and my back hit the wall, and
his mouth was on mine. Finally, the kiss was not gentle.
There was nothing exploratory about it. His tongue pushed past
my lips, and I met it with my own, and
the wet heat of it sent a pulse straight down
between my legs. I moaned into his mouth. He swallowed
the sound, and answered with a growl low in his throat.
You have no idea, he said, pulling back just far
enough to speak. How many times I've gotten hard watching
you at wedding events, the way you move, the way
you laugh, the way you look at me, like you
know exactly what I'm thinking. Maybe I do know what
am I thinking? Right now? I reached down and palmed
him through his slacks. He was already rigid, already straining
against the fabric, and the contact made his hips jerk
forward into my hand. And you're thinking, I said, squeezing
that you want to fuck me so hard I forget
my own name. Close his voice dropped, I'm thinking, I
want to fuck you so hard you forget every other
man you've ever been with. Starting now, he spun me around,
pressed me face first against the wall, my cheek against
the cool plaster. The sequins on my dress bit into
my stomach. One of his hands pinned my wrists behind
my back. The other yanked my underwear down to my ankles.
Step out, he said. I obeyed. The carpet was rough
under my bare feet. Spread your legs, I did. My
skirt was still bunched around my waist. And I was
acutely aware of how exposed I was, bent forward, with
my ass tilted back, my cunt bear, my thighs already slick,
the metallic rasp of his zipper, the crinkle of a
condom wrapper, the wet sound of him stroking lube over latex,
then the blunt pressure of him against my entrance. Tell
me you want this, you little whore, he growled. Tell
me you want it rough. I want it rough, I panted.
He pushed inside, not slow, not tentative, one hard thrust
that seated him to the hilt and tore a cry
from my throat. My wrists strained against his grip, My
inner muscles clenched around him in shock, a stretching, filling
pressure that bordered on too much, and somehow still wasn't enough. Fuck.
His forehead dropped to my shoulder. Fuck, Violet, don't stop,
I grunted, Fuck my dirty little cunt. He didn't. The
pace he set was punishing. Each stroke drove me forward
against the wall, my hips colliding with plaster, my breath
coming and punched out gasps. He released my wrists and
grabbed my hips instead, fingers digging in deep enough to bruise,
and something about being held that hard while he fucked
into me made my vision blur at the edges. You
like this, he said, not a question. Yes, you like
being bent over and fucked like a stranger. You like
how my cock feels splitting you open? Yes? Say it?
Say what you are? Uh? My voice broke as he
hit something deep inside me, something that made white sparks
dance behind my eyes. I'm a slut, I cried, a
dirty slut. Who's slut? You're slut, the bride's daddy's slut,
I shouted. He pulled out, turned me around. I caught
a glimpse of his face, jaw, tight eyes, wild, sweat
beating at his temple before or he lifted me by
the thighs and slammed me against the wall, My legs
wrapped around his waist. His cock found me again, buried
to the root, and I screamed, good girl. His mouth
was at my ear, his breath hot and ragged. Scream again.
Let the whole goddamn floor here. He fucked me against
the wall with short, brutal strokes that hit my clit
on every thrust. The pressure built low in my belly
too fast, swelling and coiling, a pleasure so sharp it
blurred into something almost painful. My nails raked down his
back through his shirt. My head fell back. Look at me,
Harrison commanded. I dragged my eyes to his Come on
my cock now, I want to feel it. The command
tipped me over. My climax seized me like a fist closing.
I clenched around him, a long shut during contraction that
made my whole body shake. The sound I made was
somewhere between a sob and a wail, muffled against his
shoulder as my teeth sank into the fabric of his shirt.
Harrison drove into me through the aftershocks. Three more thrusts, four,
and then he pulled out with a groan, tearing the
condom off and fisting his cock. Fuck this condom shit,
he bellowed, then sunk his bare dick in me. I
screamed in flesh on flesh pleasure. Time to breed with daddy.
He fucked me bare, raw and fast, his old balls
slapping up towards my asshole because he was so deep
in me. Then he bit my shoulder and unloaded the biggest,
hottest load of coum up my hole i'd ever felt. Fuck,
old man, come sure was thick and good. I licked
his neck and ear. He stuck a finger up my asshole,
pulled it out, and made me suck it clean. Beautiful,
he moaned, then kissed me, sharing the taste, his whole
body trembling. For a long moment, neither of us spoke.
My legs slid down until my feet touched the floor.
I was still pressed between Harrison and the wall. My
dress a crumpled wreck around my waist, my inner thighs
shone with my own wetness. Well, I said, finally, my
voice wrecked. That's one way to break the ice. Harrison laughed,
a breathless, disbelieving sound. He rested his forehead against mine.
The wedding is in two days, he said. We have
two days of rehearsals and dinners and family obligations. I know,
he smirked. So let's get some of your little bridesmaid
friends drunk. Get them up here, and you can help
me breed with them. I nodded, smiled a dirty smile.
I knew there was something I liked about you, daddy,
I whispered huskily. He winked at me, said that's my girl.
I hoped you enjoyed today's Sexy Story. If you love
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