They say every man has his quirks. Rodrick’s no exception. He likes to be called Red, even though it was never his nickname. He won’t drink any alcohol except top shelf Manhattans. He’ll never let me pay for anything except ice cream. And he likes to fuck me in my wedding dress. I mean sure, he likes to fuck me naked, or nearly fully clothed, just pulling my pants and panties down far enough to allow him to stuff his cock into whichever hole he fancies at that particular time. But when I wear my wedding dress, it’s another level. The intensity, the drive, the ferocity of his thrusts are like nothing else. He’s not just fucking me then, he’s taking me. like he did on my wedding day itself, and I feel it in my bones. I feel it deep inside when he roots in me and cums hard.

I told my husband I donated the dress to charity, but I hadn’t. I’d given it to Red. Sometimes, he brings it with him when we meet. I don’t know how he keeps it so clean, given the mess he makes of it, and of me when he sees me in it. But when he does see me, he gets that look in his eyes, same as the first time I saw him. A look that made me weak, made me forget everything, even then, when he made me forget I was imminently going to be walking down the aisle in that dress to marry another man. It was that look that had me on my knees, and then on my hands and knees literally minutes before my ceremony. I spent the majority of the actual wedding actively holding his cum in because I hadn’t had a chance to visit the bathroom after he left and before the maid of honor came to get me, and I never forgot how that felt.

By the time he’s finished with me on our weekly-ish visits, I spend the next few hours holding him in, as best I can. His loads seem to be getting bigger, harder to keep from leaking out. Maybe it’s because I told him my husband and I have started talking about starting a family soon. I’m not quite sure what to do about that yet, but it’s also true that I’ve never cum harder than when I imagining that Red’s spurting cock is flooding my ripe womb with his seed.

Categories: Cassie Andra, Erotic Fiction, The Wrong AlphabetTags: , , ,

Cassie Andra

Old enough to know better and not care. Vanilla on the outside. Vanilla through and through, except for the mind. You don't want to go there, but I'll give you peeks. Be warned: erotica themes include standard fun, but also the taboo-est of the taboo. Coming of age, infidelity, family relations, dubious and non-consent. Every throbbing inch of it is, however, fantasy, and should be treated as such.

Share your thoughts.

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.