Delivering the Virgin

By: Cassandra Dee

So I went for it. I was too desperate, too horny, and needed to sate myself, needed to get myself off as best I could using what was at hand. And if my new husband woke up midway, it’d just be an amazing surprise right? Any guy would die to be in his place.

So I crawled onto the bed, moving up his big body slowly, stealthily, careful not to disturb him. I crouched in a kneeling position, my legs spread over his face and braced one hand on the headboard for balance. With my other hand, I swept my panties to the side, baring my sweet cunt, my nether lips engorged, already dripping with cream and slowly, oh so slowly, lowered my pussy onto Gary’s face. I know I was taking advantage of him, taking advantage of a drunk man who could hardly protect himself, but still, what new husband wouldn’t die to wake up like this? It was like a dream come true, most dudes would eat it up, literally and figuratively.

So sinking down on my knees, I pressed my kitty against his face, wiping the soft flesh all over his cheeks, chin and mouth. And fuck, it felt good. Gary was snoring slightly, the air whistling between his lips, blowing a stream of cool air onto my cunt, and when I ground my pussy hard against his nose, he let out a honking snort, his eyes even flickering slightly.

I held my breath, going completely still. But Gary was too drunk to wake up, so I kept going, circling my kitty on his face, wiping my juices all over him, my little hand trailing across my clit as I ground onto his mouth, nose, and chin. And the magic started, a sizzling sensation began to burn deep in my snatch, emanating in waves out to my pelvic region, making my knees shiver, my tummy clench and shake with ecstasy.

And I let go then, both hands clutching the headboard as I threw my head back and screamed, boobies bouncing.

“Fuuuuck!” I shrieked. “Oh fuuuuuck!”

My pussy was creaming like mad now, there was so much juice that it was literally gushing all over Gary’s cheeks, his face completely wet and shiny from my cum, the nectar oozing down over his chin, seeping into his tux collar. But I didn’t care. This was my wedding night and I intended on having sex with my husband even if he couldn’t participate. So I came and came and came, grinding my kitty against him, drenching him, feeding him my nectar while he slept.

And Gary, that fucking slob, didn’t stir at all, not even a little bit. He was a dumb dunce, what guy doesn’t come to when your new wife pounds her pussy against you, yelling and screaming like a banshee, coating your nose and mouth with her honey? But Gary is a stupid fuck and just kept snoring, his eyes shut tight, probably dreaming of video games or some other lame shit. In retrospect, he was probably dreaming of his mistress but at that time, I had no idea about the betrayal to come.

So I just helped myself to a huge orgasm, grinding onto the handsome man’s face again and again. And after it was over, I shook myself off, spraying him with a few last droplets of cream before getting off and padding to the bathroom, my pussy satisfied and loose, but not quite loose enough. I wanted it loose from dick, from having a huge monster inside and hopefully my husband would be lucid tomorrow to really get it on, dick in twat style.

But there was no tomorrow. The next morning when Gary woke up, he groaned, sitting up, clutching his head like it was pounding.

“What’s that smell?” were his first words, his voice hoarse and raspy.

“What smell?” I asked innocently, blinking my eyes like a doe. I was already up and awake, dressed in a silk robe sitting at the small table in our suite, eating room service. “Maybe my eggs and bacon?” I asked, forking another bite into my mouth, savoring the mouth-watering Canadian ham. Our parents had gone all out, treating us to the honeymoon suite and I was enjoying the entire package.

But Gary groaned again, shaking his head, lifting the collar of his dress shirt to his nose for a sniff.

“No, that other smell,” he croaked again, eyes bleary. “It’s pungent but aromatic, really, really …” and his eyes widened suddenly.

“What is it?” I asked again innocently, biting into another forkful of egg. Mmm, this omelet was done just right, fluffy with a bit of cilantro for spice.

“Fuck, Laurie,” he growled, his eyes growing dark with rage. “Did you? Did you really …?”

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