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- Herausgeber: QNY
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
Sarah knows that the second she gets married she'll never get laid again. And that's a problem.
She's had a fantasy for as long as she can remember, and it's the one thought she can't get rid of before her wedding night. Sarah wants to be taken by men. Six of them, and all at once. She wants to be used and abused, and no matter how hard she tries, it's always by exactly the wrong six men.
When the six groomsmen walk in on her getting dressed the day of her wedding, she's not sure if she can resist. And when they approach her one at a time to offer her gifts from her husband she knows it's over. As Sarah gives in to her lust and desires (that means she has sex with them all right before the ceremony) she finds her heart may be stronger than she thought.
Full of passion, love, and hardcore unprotected sex, All the Groom's Men is a very dirty book intended for adults who like this sort of thing.
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Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017
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YOURS,PRONOUN¶
ALL THE GROOM’S MEN
The Bride’s First Menage
Guy New york
QNY
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All rights reserved. Aside from brief quotations for media coverage and reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or distributed in any form without the author’s permission. Thank you for supporting authors and a diverse, creative culture by purchasing this book and complying with copyright laws.
Copyright © 2017 by Guy New york
Published by QNY
Interior design by Pronoun
Distribution by Pronoun
ISBN: 9781508077237
TABLE OF CONTENTS
All The Groom’s Men
About The Author
More by Guy New York
ALL THE GROOM’S MEN
Sarah was getting married.
Like for real. After eighteen months of engagement, six years of dating, and more pressure from her family then she knew what to do with, it was finally going to happen. And she was terrified. Marriage meant everything would change. It meant excitement would lead to complacency and passion would dissolve into resentment. She’d seen it so many times with her friends, not to mention her parents, that it was simply inevitable.
She was going to get married, her vagina would dry up and she’d never have sex again. Sure they might have a baby or two, which meant she’d get laid at least twice, but it was over and she knew it. Goodbye blowjobs in the car, so long making out in the movie theater, and sayonara to fucking till the sun came up.
Three days before her wedding, she decided to confide in someone.
“Marriage is going to kill me,” she texted her maid of honor, Rachel.
“Stop being such a drama queen, you whore. You’ll be fine.”
“I’ll never get laid again.”
“Maybe not by your husband…”
“You’re a total bitch.”
“Slut.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“Tonight’s the bachelor party. What should I do with myself?”
“Watch porn and then bury your libido in the back yard.”
“I hate you more.”
They texted for an hour before Sarah got up off the couch, made her way to the bathroom and ran the water in the tub. She poured in bath salts, lit a candle, opened a bottle of wine and slipped into the warm water, hoping it might at least calm her down.
The problem was that Mark was fantastic. He was sexy and smart, and he fucked her like mad. He was kinky and silly all at the same time, and their sex life was more than good. He listened to her without rolling his eyes, he scolded her when she was being a brat, and he held her and let her cry into his shoulder when she needed it most. He was fantastic and perfect. It was the worst combination imaginable, and she didn’t know what to do with herself.
The water was hot as she slipped in, and she let out a sigh of release as she felt the heat slowly begin to dissolve the tension in her muscles. She let her hands moved up and down her body, and everything felt good. She touched her leg and noticed how soft her fingers felt against her skin, and when her arms brushed her nipples they hardened in surprise and delight. She shifted her body, arched her back and looked down at her stomach to the small tangle of curls about her cunt.
Mark didn’t like her to shave completely, and for a while, she didn’t mind. She twirled her fingers through the hair before moving her hand down firmly and pushing two fingers inside herself.
As always, Sarah let her mind wander as she touched herself. When she was younger she was wracked with guilt over her fantasies, but at a certain point she just let them in. She learned the difference between reality and daydreams, and once she turned twenty she let her mind take her where it would. Some of the places were sweet, and some were dark, but they always lead in the same direction. One hand would be replaced with two on her body, followed by another and then another. From her earliest days, it was always the same. The men varied depending on who felt the most “wrong” at the moment, but there was always six of them, and they did delightful and terrible things to her body.
In high school, it had been the soccer team, including the coach, and in college, it was professors and an ex-boyfriend. After she met Mark it was his colleagues or boss, and the more wrong it felt, the harder she came.
She pushed three fingers inside herself as she reached her other hand down to her clit. In her mind, she was trapped in an empty office with the guys Mark liked the least. She sucked their cocks one at a time and she begged as they shoved her between them, using her body like a toy and fucking her however they chose. Her fingers moved faster as she pictured them in her mind, and when Mark’s boss walked into her dream she nearly came.
He pushed the men out of the way and threw her onto the ground, pulling her ass towards him. Without a word, he fucked her from behind as the others stood around her, their cocks hard in their hands as they watched. He fucked her faster and faster, as her hands moved in the water, and the end was always the same.
She felt him coming inside her as the men around her let loose as well. She opened her mouth and begged them for more as they came and came, covering her body.
She shook beneath the water, her hips bucking against her strong hands, and the old hint of guilt made her come even harder. She clenched her thighs around her fingers, moaned out loudly, and finally collapsed with a deep breath of satisfaction.
“Well, I guess I’ll always have my mind,” she said. “And my fingers.”
She spent the rest of the evening reading and finishing the bottle of wine, as she periodically checked her phone for messages from Mark. They started at a bar, and within an hour his messages were more blurry than normal. When they moved to the strip club he tried to send photos and promptly had his phone taken away. One of his groomsmen texted her later to say everything was fine, and she laughed as she pictured them prying the phone from her drunken fiance’s hand.
She woke up on the couch to the sound of men trying to be quiet. And failing.
“Hold his head up!”
“I got his legs, I can’t get his arm.”
“Fuck, we’re going to drop him.”
“Sarah is going to kill us.”
“Whatever. He’s just drunk. At least that girl didn’t blow him.”
“Dude, I had no idea that’s what happened back there. I just thought…”
“Shut the fuck up and get him to the couch before she hears us.”
That was when Sarah decided to turn the light on. The six guys looked like deer in headlights as they stood by the front door with her fiancé in their arms. He was passed out drunk, and they didn’t look much better as they struggled to carry him into the house.
“Put him here,” she said, standing up from the couch and clutching her robe tightly around her.
“We are so sorry, we didn’t mean to wake you up…”
“It’s fine, just put him on the couch. It looks like you’ve taken good care of him. I mean, he didn’t even get that blowjob.” She smiled as they stared at her, and she wondered for a moment if it was her mouth or her tiny bathrobe that caught their attention.
“You weren’t supposed to hear that.”
The guys put him down on the couch and one of them pulled a blanket up over him. He was snoring and drooling, but at least it didn’t look like he vomited on himself. Sarah waved a finger at them to follow her upstairs, and with their heads held down, they did as they were told.
She led them into the bedroom, sat them down, and then plopped herself down on the foot of the bed.
“So?” she asked.
“We were just having a good time.”
“I can see that,” she said. “I mean, tell me what happened. Did he have fun? He’s clearly drunk, but did you show him a final good night of partying before I cut his dick off and he never gets laid again?”
Three of the guys cringed, and one laughed nervously.
“Oh come on, like you weren’t making those jokes to him all night.”
“Yeah, but when you say it …”
“What?”
“You make it sound serious.”
“I am not going to cut my husband’s dick off. What use would that be? Who would I get to fuck me every night if he wasn’t up for the task?”
She looked back towards the door and the hallway that leads to the stairs.
“Not that he’s up for the task tonight, but you know what I mean. Just tell me he had fun, and he didn’t catch anything.”
“He was fine. You know Mark. He hardly looked at the strippers without mentioning you, and I swear the only reason he let us take him there was so he could tell you about it. That boy is so whipped it’s not even funny. He was a perfect gentleman. Well, a perfect drunk-ass gentleman, but he’s fine. Just let him sleep it off.”
Sarah looked at each one of them in their jeans and sweaters, and for a moment she flashed back to the tub. She rubbed her eyes and nodded her head as she stood up.
“Well, thank you for bringing him home, even if he can’t walk. If he pees on the couch one of you is paying for it. Now let me walk you out so I can get some fucking sleep before this goddamn wedding.”
“You sound so excited about it.”
“Happy as a peach, Jack. I’m happy as a peach, now get the fuck out of my bedroom before I call the police.”
They were out and down the steps before she could count three, and she locked the door behind her with a sigh. She walked back to the living room, kissed Mark on the forehead and tucked him in. She made her way up the stairs, dropped her robe onto the floor and climbed into her warm flannel sheets.
“Well, that could have been worse,” she thought.
As she was drifting off to sleep her fantasy kept playing back in her mind. Each time she remembered something the vision changed, and as she finally slipped into dreamland, she couldn’t remember if the fantasy had taken place in an office, or right there on her bed with six handsome men who she absolutely, most definitely, under no circumstances, was allowed to want.
“You have to wear something under your gown,” Rachel said as they stared at the dress hanging in the corner.
“I hate all that white stuff. I don’t want to wear it. Besides, I like not wearing undies.”
“Sarah, it’s your wedding, you’re supposed to wear pretty little lingerie, so when your soon-to-be husband undresses you he gets a pleasant surprise. Not just your naked-ass body he’s seen a million times.”
“You’re a big fucking help, you know that?” Sarah said, looking over at her maid of honor.
The wedding was in three hours and she was still pouting. This was too tight, and that was too loose, and did they really have to say all those things about “forsaking all others?” Couldn’t they just imply it or something? Or better yet, just leave it out altogether. Maybe add something about “except for vacations once a year when we don’t ask any questions.”
Rachel took her job seriously, though, and she kept them moving despite the protests along the way. She got her to her hair appointment, answered the caterer’s questions, and took last minute phone calls for directions.
“Don’t these people know how to Google?” Sarah screamed after the last call. “I’m getting married here, and they don’t even know how to use their fucking cell phones. If we called it a funeral for my vagina they’d never be so crass.”
“Yes, dear, they’re the crass ones, now why don’t you have a glass of wine to calm you down while I go make sure the limo is on time, okay?”
“I don’t want a glass of wine.”
“Yes, you do.” Rachel handed it to her and raised it to her lips before Sarah took the glass and drank half of it in one gulp.
“Thank you, Rachel. You know I love you.”
“Of course I do. Now try to relax, and I’ll be back soon.”
As the door closed Sarah leaned back in her chair with the glass of wine in her hand. It was red and rich, and she had been instructed to keep it as far away from her dress as humanly possible. To her credit, she was still in her bathrobe, but while her white wedding lingerie hung next to her dress, she refused to put anything else on.
She took another sip of her wine and her mind began to wander. She drifted back to the other night, and a shiver ran through her body as she let herself think. She was suddenly back in her room and Mark’s friends were standing around the bed with their cocks in their hands staring at her as she opened her robe.
“What the fuck am I thinking,” she mumbled as she stood up and finished the last of her wine. “I’m getting married in three hours and here I am wishing I was getting gang-banged by my fiance’s best friends. I’m fucking crazy.”
She walked over to the mirror and set her glass down. Her hair looked perfect, but her makeup was still to be done. She smiled as she undid her robe and let it drop to the floor behind her. At twenty-eight she felt old and looked stunning. Her body was firm and soft all at the same time, and she ran her fingers down her stomach to her completely smooth cunt. It was her wedding night goddamnit, and she was going to do what she wanted. Mark would groan when he saw her, but he’d fuck her all the same, and she loved the way it felt.
It was a flash in the mirror that made her realize the door had opened, but the gasps behind her made her realize who it was. Without so much as a knock, all six groomsmen stumbled into her dressing room with small boxes in their hands.
Sarah turned and stared at them, and she fought every instinct she had to pick up her robe.
“Can I help you?”
“Um, we, um, have presents from Mark.”
“Well, come in and close the door,” she said walking towards them. Each one had a small blue box that was so distinctive it meant only one thing. They had presents for her, and they were going to be shiny. Sarah loved presents.
“Well, what are they?” she asked.
“Shouldn’t you put something on?” one of them asked.
She knew his name, but she liked to pretend to confuse them. It gave her a strange pleasure to see them flustered, and when she called him Jason he didn’t even bother to correct her.
“If you knew anything about weddings Jason, you’d know that I can’t wear a thing until I put on my dress, and I can’t put on my dress until my makeup is done, and my makeup very clearly is not done. Capiche?”
“Um, yeah, Sarah. Fine, if you want to stand here buck-ass naked it’s no problem with me.”
“Presents?” she said, looking up at them again.
The first one stepped forward and opened the blue box in his hand. It held a single pearl earring; he took it from the box and held it in his hand.
“Do you mind? Mark said I was supposed to put it on.”
Sarah leaned forward as the tuxedo-clad man with the scruffy beard and hidden tattoos fumbled to fit the Tiffany pearl earring into the tiny hole. She put a hand on his shoulder as she leaned in, and she could feel his breath as he finally succeeded in his task.
“Next,” she said, standing up straight again. This was way too much fun.
The left earring was followed by the right, which was followed by a bracelet and then a necklace. The last two opened their boxes at the same time and delivered two perfect hairpins with small pearls that shone even in the dim light of the room. They stood back and stared at her; every one of them was in awe.
Standing in front of them was a stunningly gorgeous naked woman with only pearls and silver adorning her body. She twirled in front of them, her hands moving from one gift to the next as she basked in her new gifts.
“Is there anything else?” she asked when she realized they hadn’t left.
“Um, sort of?” one of them replied.
“What do you mean sort of?”
“I mean, Mark told us to give you something else.”
“And what was that?”
“Just say it, dude,” one of them whispered to the other.
“You say it, asshole.”
“Just tell me what he said before I throw you all out.”
“He said, to give you whatever you wanted,” one of them blurted out.
Sarah walked up to him as he backed away trying to avoid touching her naked body. She took the lapel of his jacket in hand and pulled him close.
“Say that again,” she whispered.
“He said we should give you anything you wanted.”
“That’s all? Nothing more specific?”
The six men blushed but stood their ground. She looked at them one at a time and she felt shivers run through her body. Anything? Could he really mean that? Did he know, or did he expect something completely different? Fuck, this was too much for her. She could feel herself getting wetter by the second as she stared at the six handsome men in front of her, and the more she looked the harder it was to turn back.
“Tony, what would Mark do if he thought you were flirting with me?” she asked.
“He’d fucking kill me, Sarah. I mean, he’s a nice guy, but he’d kill me.”
“Charles?” she asked, looking at another.
“Dead as a doornail.”
“And if he knew that you all just stood her putting jewelry on me while I was completely naked?”
“But you said it was a wedding thing …” actual Jason mumbled before getting interrupted.
“He’d kill us for that too, but …”
Sarah walked up to him and leaned against his chest. His breathing was quick and when she moved her knee between his legs she could feel his excitement.
“But what?” she whispered.
“Sarah, there was no way in hell any of us were going to walk out of this room after seeing you like that. I mean, holy fuck, you are so goddamn hot …”
“Shut the fuck up, dude,” someone interrupted; someone else coughed.
“He said anything I want?”
Six heads nodded in agreement. Sarah looked down the line and her gaze honed in on the bulges quickly growing down their thighs and up under their belts.
“So, he’d be horribly disappointed if you didn’t do what I asked, isn’t that so?”
They simply nodded again as she positioned herself between the two men in the middle. With a finger, she waved them in until they formed a circle around her, and she was shaking in anticipation. There was no going back now, and she knew it. Fantasy was one thing, but this was another, and this needed to happen. Now.
“Here’s what I want,” she whispered as they all leaned in around her, nodding their heads.
“I want each and every one of you to fuck me, and I don’t want you to stop until you’ve covered my body in cum. Do you understand?”
They were silent as they stared at her, and she could see their minds working. Was this what Mark wanted? Was this what he expected them to do when he offered her anything?
When Sarah knelt on the floor in the middle of them all, none of that mattered. She could see six hard cocks through the thin fabric of their tux pants, and nothing was going to keep her from them.
“But if you so much as touch my hair, let alone come in it, I will kill you first and then let Mark kill you again later. Understand?”
They looked down at her, but understanding wasn’t what their expressions held. They looked more like hungry animals who were terrified of their meal. She ran her hands up two legs, and as if on cue, all six men moved in closer to her.
“Don’t. Touch. My. Hair. Now, who wants to fuck my mouth first?”
She had no idea who the brave soul was that unzipped his pants, and she didn’t care either. She closed her eyes as she wrapped her hand around him and took him all the way down her throat in one gulp. He moaned loudly as she sucked his cock, her other hand reaching up for more zippers and belts. A second later she had another hard cock in her hand, and this one her hand barely fit around.
Without pausing she moved from one cock to the next and with each passing second, she felt more lost and more found than she ever thought possible. She marveled at their differences, she handled them with care, and she worked her fingers, lips, and tongue over each one. On occasion, she looked up into their eyes and all she could see was lust and want on their faces.
When the first one came in her mouth, she nearly choked in surprise. There were so many moans and grunts in the room, that it was impossible to tell who was getting close. But Sarah, always up for a challenge, swallowed every drop, and she squeezed the base of his cock until he nearly collapsed on the floor next to her.
“Chair,” she said, standing up between them.
Someone pulled it over to them, but they looked at her with questions in their eyes.
“Someone sit on it,” she growled.
“Who?” Paul asked.
“I don’t fucking care. Someone sit on the goddamn chair because I need a cock somewhere other than my mouth.”
She didn’t have to ask twice, and she straddled the still dressed groomsman with as much ease as anticipation. She looked down into his eyes as she held his hard-on in one hand. She rubbed it against the soft smooth lips to her cunt and she smiled.
“Are you ready to fuck the bride?” she whispered.
His only answer was to pull her to him, impaling her on his cock so quickly that she lost her breath. Her lips were on him in a second, and if he cared that she tasted of his best friend he didn’t say a word. The other men surrounded them, their hands moving over her body with more and more need and far less fear. She screamed when fingers pinched a nipple, and she moaned as she felt two mouths open on her neck.
The cock inside her felt amazing as she grabbed two more with her hands and every daydream came flooding back to her at once. They were the soccer team and her professors. They were colleagues and celebrities, and best of all they were exactly who they were. They were the last six men in the world she should be fucking, and when she leaned down to take another cock into her mouth her first orgasm rolled through her.
She clenched around the cock inside her as she sucked harder, and her entire body tensed and twitched as she came around someone whose name she didn’t remember. Seconds later, one of them exploded onto her neck and breasts, and she didn’t pause as she moved to his cock and swallowed the rest.
When two strong arms lifted her off the chair she only let out a small moan of protest. They held her up, her legs wide open and before she could think another man was between her legs, fucking her again. In a blur of motion, he was replaced by someone else, and she realized that one of them was holding her while the others took turns. They weren’t trying to come, and they weren’t trying to get her off; they were just fucking her cunt, over and over again, taking turns like she was a toy they were sharing.
“Oh, god, fuck me you bastards. All of you, keep fucking me. I’ve wanted this for so long, you have no idea.”
She could hardly speak as they continued pounding into her and she lost track of who was whom within seconds. All she knew was that each cock was slightly different, and each hand that held her belonged to someone else. All she knew was that she had cum on her breasts and her neck, some on her lips, and before she knew it, another one was coming as he fucked her.
He pulled out after he began, and he covered her stomach and shaved cunt for what felt like minutes.
“Come on me,” she whispered. “Come in, and on me, all of you. I’m the biggest whore in the world, and I need it all.”
Unaware of how it happened she was leaning over the chair while they took turns fucking her from behind. On occasion, she had a cock in her mouth, but the number of hard dicks was decreasing each time someone came on her naked body.
“Wait,” she said, looking back at the eager face of the man behind her.
“Should we stop?” he asked, suddenly shocked out of his dream world.
“Not if you want to live,” she said. “Because I want it up my ass. Get my purse and get my lube.”
Two seconds later there was a warm slick finger with pressing into her ass as she sucked the biggest cock she had ever seen. She wrapped her hand partially around it as she worked her lips over it, and when she looked up at his face he was grinning at her. The bastard knew he was big, and he wanted to see her try.
She opened her mouth wide and pushed down around him just as she felt someone new against her ass. She pulled back and screamed as he entered her, and it was all she could do to keep standing.
“Oh, fuck,” she cried as he pushed deeper inside her. “Fuck my ass, you bastard. Fuck my ass like you mean it.”
That was all the encouragement he needed, and before she knew it she was moaning in ecstasy as he pulled her hips back onto his cock with so much force she nearly fell. She opened her mouth again and took the thick cock between her lips, pushing herself down on him as much as she could. His moan gave her more satisfaction that anything and she was gone.
“Suck my cock, you filthy little slut,” he growled. “Suck my cock while you take it up the ass. You are the worst fucking bride ever.”
Those words and that thought started her second orgasm, and this one was new and different. She had been fucked up the ass a few times, but it never made her come and it never lasted long. Her whole body tightened as she tried to focus on the cock in her mouth, but before long the room began to vanish as tremors moved through her muscles; nerve endings she didn’t know she had burst into action.
She held the cock in front of her as she bit her lip, and she could feel the tears running down her face. The cock inside her didn’t stop as she kept coming, and her moans were so deep and long she didn’t recognize her own voice. Before she knew what was happening the big man in front of her starting coming as well, and this time she didn’t bother with her mouth at all. She pulled him to her and arched her head back, letting him cover her chin and neck as she shook violently around the cock in her ass.
“Oh, fuck, I’m coming,” she heard in her ear, and then it was over. She felt him explode inside her, and her knees gave out completely. Luckily she was still surrounded by strong men, who held her up as she lost all control. She moaned in protest when the cock slipped out of her ass, but somehow they positioned her back on the chair as she slowly regained her ability to move her limbs.
One of them was kneeling on the floor next to her, holding her head up and looking into her eyes.
“Sarah, are you okay?”
“Holy fuck,” she mumbled.
“Is that a good holy fuck, or a what-was-I-thinking holy fuck?”
“It was a thank you.”
The guys were standing around her nervously, looking at her on the chair, and there was real concern in their eyes as they suddenly realized what had just happened. Sarah looked up at each one of them, and the smile on her face was so big she almost laughed. She did let out a giggle when she saw them shifting their feet and zipping up their flies, and she slouched down into the chair in utter exhaustion.
“You can go now. I have to get dressed for my wedding.”
“Are you, um, sure?”
“I’ve never been so sure about anything in my life,” she said to no one in particular.
She hardly noticed as they filed out the door one by one, and even when it closed behind them it took her a while to realize she was alone. She moved her hand over her body and she could feel everything. She felt spots where bruises would rise from hands and fingers that held her in place. She felt warm cum on her skin and she rubbed it into her body as she felt every sensation at once. Her mouth was tired, her cunt was sore, and she was completely and utterly at peace.
“What the fuck happened to you? Did you go a little crazy on the lotion?”
Sarah looked up to see Rachael standing next to her, and she just smiled at her best friend.
“I just fucked the groomsmen.”
“And I just fucked the pope, now tell me what happened so we can get you fixed up.”
“I honestly, sincerely, and without a doubt, did, in fact, just fuck all six of Mark’s friends. And every single one of them came all over me. Well, a few in me as well, but you get the point.”
Rachel knelt down in front of her and looked her up and down. She reached a hand out and touched her wet skin with two fingers.
“You’re not lying, are you darling?”
“No,” Sarah said, shaking her head. “Do you think I’m the worst person ever?”
“Let me get a washcloth.”
Sarah grabbed her arm before she could leave and asked her again. For some reason it felt important, just this once, to know that someone she cared about didn’t think she was insane for finally getting what she wanted.
“Worst? No. Sluttiest? Maybe. But let me get a warm towel so we can clean you off, and you can tell me every single fucking detail of it.”
“Really?”
“Oh, god yes. And don’t leave anything out. This girl needs something to think about on lonely nights.”
A few minutes later Rachel came back with a towel and began to wash the cum off her best friend’s skin. She looked her up and down, and even stood her up, so she could wipe her clean, and for a long moment, she stared at her face.
“What?”
“They didn’t fuck up your hair. How is that possible?”
“I told them I’d kill them. Twice.”
“Huh, it seems to have worked. Now tell me the details you dirty bitch.”
“Well, they walked into the room, and I was standing here completely naked ...”
The minister was going on far longer than expected. Mark and Sarah were holding hands on the altar, and it felt like they had been standing there forever. They smiled at each other and whispered back and forth as the voice behind them droned on and on about love and marriage.
“You’re wearing my presents,” Mark said.
“I love them,” she whispered back.
“Are you wearing all of them?”
“All six, darling. They’re the prettiest things I could imagine.”
“Was it just six? I’m not good with numbers.”
Sarah’s stomach jumped, but Mark smiled at her and she closed her eyes.
“Are you ready, love?” he asked her as the minister started his closing words.
“I am so perfectly ready and so wonderfully happy, I don’t know where to start.”
“So, you’re sure you want to get married?”
“Surer than I’ve ever been about anything.”
Behind them, the minister stepped forward and took their hands in his. He said more words as they exchanged their vows, and when the time came, Mark and Sarah exchanged the sweetest, longest, stickiest kiss in the history of weddings.
The End
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
GUY NEW YORK IS A bestselling erotica author, designer, and degenerate who spends most of his time either writing about sex or having it. Sometimes he does both at the same time, much to the chagrin of his partners. With more 35 titles to his name, including two full-length novels, six novellas, and numerous short stories, his books have been widely read and often burned. Visit his author site at www.guynewyork.com
For hundreds of free erotic stories and photos please visit www.quickienewyork.com
You can follow him on Twitter @quickiesnewyork
