by Vivian Ward
She’s always busy with work, especially now that it’s so close to our wedding. Being an over-achiever, she is making sure she has all of her ducks in a row so she can relax on our honeymoon. Lord knows if she realizes there’s one loose string that she forgot to tie up, she won’t be able to relax and enjoy herself.
It’s just the type of personality that she has. Everything has to be perfect, and it has to be done Piper’s way, but I cherish and admire her. If it weren’t for her, I might not have finished law school. She’s my rock.
Like a sexy goddess, she materializes from seemingly nowhere.
She’s wearing her business suit with the skirt that I love so much. The royal blue material clings to every beautiful curve of her body and accentuates her long, tanned legs that peek out beneath her matching stockings.
“Right here,” she says, swinging around the kitchen door frame.
Donning a huge grin, I find myself wishing that she was only wearing her gorgeous smile with her stockings. I don’t know what it is about her pantyhose, but I love it when she wears stuff like that. It’s so sexy to have that thin, delicate fabric hugging her skin.
“Guess what? I’ve got the biggest news,” I say to her.
Tilting her head, she continues to smile and waves me into the kitchen.
“Yeah? Come tell me about it while I check on dinner,” she says.
The aroma of sweet, honey-glazed chicken fills my senses the instant I begin walking in her direction. My mouth begins to water from the smell while my stomach slightly grumbles.
“You’ll never believe this,” I begin. “You know the annual party that Ford has at his place?”
She nods her head, “Mhmm.”
“I got invited to it!”
I remove the envelope from the breast pocket of my jacket and present it to her.
“Check it out,” I say, handing it to her.
Excited, she takes the envelope from my hands and begins opening it. She knows that getting invited is a big deal, but she doesn’t realize how big.
“Congrats,” she hands the invitation back to me.
“Piper, you don’t get it! The firm is looking for a new partner, and everyone knows that they only invite current partners and those whom they are considering. This means that Ford has his eye on me.”
Her eyebrows arch as her emerald eyes grow into giant saucers.
“What?! Babe! That’s awesome; I’m so proud of you!”
She throws her arms around my neck and squeezes me tight before she lets go of me.
“Let’s celebrate! I’ve got a bottle of the good stuff,” she says, running her finger along the buttons of my shirt. “You grab the glasses.”
Watching her trail off to the wine cabinet, I study her round, bubbly ass as it sways back and forth. Teasing me and lulling me, I want to sink my teeth into it.
“Here we go,” she sets the bottle on the counter.
An hour later, we’re sitting down to a delicious meal with our glasses of wine, still talking about Ford’s party. Neither of us can stop talking about the endless possibilities that might come to me making partner.
“Do the other guys know?” she asks.
“Who? Parvo and the molester?” I laugh. “Yeah, they both know and they’re jealous as hell. They were giving me shit about it all morning long.”
She pierces her chicken with her fork.
“I don’t like those guys. I’m glad you got the invite and not them, and not just because we’ll benefit from it but because they’re creeps.”
“You have no idea.”
I’ve never told my wife about the manilla-boner folder or even half of what goes on at the office. Her only encounters with them have been company parties like our Christmas parties and the summer picnics that Ford always hosts at our local park and baseball field.
“I’m proud of you. I know you’ve worked so hard,” she flips her long, straight brown hair over her shoulder and tucks it behind her ear. “So when is this party again?”
Taking a drink of my wine, I pick up the invitation from the table and look at it again. It still feels so surreal to be holding it in my hand. I’m still in a bit of awe.
“It’s Saturday, on the 25th,” I answer her.
Her mouth pops open as a look of shock washes over her face.
“I’m sorry,” she says. “But I won’t be able to go with you to Mr. Ford’s party. It’s not possible,” she shakes her head from side to side.
“What? Why?” I ask.
Piper is always by my side. We do everything together so for her to say that she can’t come with me—to what might be the most important party besides our wedding reception—it’s a bit of a slap in the face.
“Logan,” she reaches across the table, taking my hand in hers. “Don’t you remember what next Saturday is?”
It’s hard for me to concentrate as her soft, petite fingers caress the palm of my hand, but I try to focus on the date. When she touches me, all of the blood rushes from one head to the other, and I can’t help it. You would think that after being together for five years, her touch would’ve worn off but it hasn’t.
When she touches me, it’s like a spell comes over me that I’m unable to break regardless what I’m doing or what I’m thinking.
“I’m sorry, Piper. I’m drawing a blank. What is next Saturday?”
“My bridal shower,” she sounds surprised that I don’t remember.
I might be crazy at times, but I thought she already had one. She and her friends were all giggles about it.
“Didn’t you do that a few weeks ago?”
The loud sigh and the way she pushes my hand away tells me that this was the wrong answer, but I remember her and all of her friends wearing a bunch of skimpy shit when they all stayed out until dawn.
“Really, Logan?” She shakes her head. “You don’t ever pay attention, do you?”
“What?” I ask. “What did I miss here?”
There’s no way that I forgot about that night. I remember watching her getting ready for her party. She wore a tight little white dress that rode up the back of her ass with a pair of stockings that cut off at the thigh, with a lacy cuff at the top of them.
The dress was almost see-through. I could tell that she wasn’t wearing a bra by the way her nipples peeked through the thin material of her dress and she was wearing an ivory thong that I couldn’t stop staring at.
They were going to a few bars and then a strip joint for ladies, and I thought for sure she was going to get banged by the male dancers. Her friends assured me that the male strippers are usually gay, but with the way she looked that night, she could’ve made any gay man turn straight while she was dressed like that.
Of course, it didn’t stop me from jacking off twice while she was gone. I kept picturing her drunk, slurring her words while sucking dick at the stripper place.
Just thinking about it now is getting me aroused under the table. Taking a healthy drink from my glass of wine, I try to shake the image out of my head, but it’s almost impossible.
“What do you mean? I never had a bridal shower,” she sighs and lets out a small laugh. “You’re thinking about my bachelorette party.”
“Your bachelorette party?” I ask.
Is there a difference between the two?
“Are you drunk? How much of that wine did you drink?” she giggles.
“No,” I shake my head as I loosen my tie. “What I do remember is that you were wearing that white dress. You know the one. It’s that ‘come fuck me’ dress of yours that I love so much.”
I wink at her and take another gulp of wine from my glass as I tell my dick to mind its own business, but it’s useless because my cock is uncomfortably pushing against the zipper of my trousers. It’s aching to be inside of her.
“Yep, that’s the one,” she smiles.
She’s so proud of herself. My fiancée knows exactly what she’s doing to me, what kind of sexual power she holds over me.
“
I didn’t think you were going to be able to keep your hands off of me that night before I left,” she takes a sip of her wine.
She’s only on her second glass, but I can tell that she’s already getting tipsy. Piper’s never been much of a drinker but once she gets a little alcohol in her, watch out! She’s likely to claw my damn pants off—which I don’t mind one bit.
I prefer it.
“You almost didn’t get out of the house on time. If I remember,” I stand up and walk behind her. “I was trying to get a piece of ass before you walked out the door.”
Brushing her hair aside, I plant a soft kiss on the curve of her neck. I watch her nipples grow erect beneath her white silk blouse, and it makes my cock jerk.
“Mmm,” she moans.
Placing my hand on her knee, I slowly slide it up her thigh, tracing the lace of her stockings with my fingertips. The delicate material sends the rest of the blood in my body rushing to my dick.
Wasting no time, she lets her knees drop to the side when my hand disappears beneath her royal blue skirt.
Craning her head with her eyes closed, she exposes the length of her neck to me; her long caramel-colored tresses cascade down her arms. She looks like a fallen angel who’s come to deliver me from my sins, but all I can think about is making her halo dirty.
If there is a heaven or a hell, I can’t wait to spend all eternity with this woman. She ignites my soul and gives me the oxygen that I need to continue burning in her blissful paradise.
I am nothing without her, and if I could only love her for one lifetime, it wouldn’t be enough.
My lips crash down on top of hers, kissing her as I slip my fingers past her thong and work toward her entrance. She’s already wet, allowing me to easily slip them inside her.
Sucking in a deep breath of air, she gasps and allows me to pump them in and out of her while my tongue traces circles along the soft skin of her neck, nipping along the way.
“Take me to bed,” she whispers. “I need to feel you inside of me.”
Scooping her out of the chair, I carry her to our bedroom and throw her down on the bed as I climb onto the mattress with her.
Unbuttoning her white blouse, her breasts peek out at me, perfectly cupped inside of her pink bra. Instead of wasting years in marketing school, she could’ve become a model with a body like hers.
But I got lucky. My baby has brains and beauty, and it doesn’t get any better than that.
Kneeling between her legs, I tower over her as I take in her appearance. Her long, floaty hair fanned out on the soft floral comforter, her full breasts rising and falling with each breath, and her long legs wrapped around me reminds me that she’s all mine.
This beautiful woman belongs to me, and in a couple of weeks, she will be mine forever.
Dipping down, I trail kisses from her neck to her cleavage. Her nipples turn to hardened pebbles beneath the lace fabric of her bra. The small rose buds contrast against the light pink shade of her lingerie, aching to be sucked on.
A moan escapes her mouth, and she squeezes her legs, tightening their grip around me when I pull down the cup of her bra and take one of her nipples into my mouth.
Her arms above her head, she arches her back when my mouth moves south, heading straight for her sweet spot. I know she has been wet since before I carried her in here, but as I get closer, I can smell her sex.
The light musk scent floats in the air and makes my cock stir. Still throbbing to be inside of her, I unzip my pants, letting my cock spring out of them.
Piper watches me; her eyes dilated with excitement as she spreads her legs wide open for me.
Giving her clit a thorough tongue lashing, she whimpers and begs, pleading for me to be inside of her, but it’s too much fun teasing her.
Biting her lip, she smiles as I make my way back up to her lips before I kiss her. She loves tasting herself on me, and I can’t say that I blame her. She’s my favorite flavor.
Pushing my cock inside of her, I give her a minute to accommodate me, and then I begin fucking her. Raw, passionate fucking as I picture her wearing that slutty white dress of hers.
“That’s it, babe,” she moans. “Fuck me hard.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. Picking up my speed, I work double time. The bed springs sound like they could collapse at any moment but that doesn’t stop me from giving it to her.
“Are you my naughty little slut?” I ask her.
“Yes,” she hisses. “Harder.”
Leaning down next to her ear, I suck the lobe into my mouth, biting it with my teeth.
“Tell me. I want to hear you say it,” I say to her.
She hesitates for a second, and that’s when I push my cock deep inside of her and hold it there allowing her to feel my thickness, reminding her that I am in total control. Refusing to move until she says it, I command her again.
“Say it if you want me to fuck you,” I growl. “Tell me you’re my naughty little slut.”
“I’m your dirty slut. Now, fuck me. Hard,” she begs.
That’s all it takes, and I fuck her harder than I have in a long time. The thought of that white dress, the strippers at her bachelorette party, and the excitement of possibly making partner has all of the blood pooling to the head of my dick.
Feeling the walls of her vagina tightening around me, I can’t control myself much longer. I try to refrain from coming, but I lose it when she bites my shoulder.
The instant her teeth sink into my skin is the minute that the head of my cock erupts, spurting my seed deep inside of her as the two of us ride out our orgasms together.
Chapter 3
Piper
I feel bad that Logan’s big party is the same date as my bridal shower, but I’ve been planning this for months.
Aside from making sure that all of my closest friends could come to the bridal shower, I also coordinated this date around my best friend, Deb.
We met when we were in college, just like Logan and I, and ended up sharing a dorm together. She’s a Type A personality like me so in some ways, we get along perfectly, but we can both be stubborn when it comes to other things.
She’s flying in from Texas and even put in for a week’s vacation so she could stay with us from the time she gets in for the bridal shower until after the wedding since my bridal shower is only a week before the wedding.
I wanted to have my bridal shower back when I had my bachelorette party, but I couldn’t because that would mean that Deb would miss both and I couldn’t do that to her.
Having my bridal shower separate from my bachelorette party ended up working out to my benefit anyway, and I’m so excited to get to see her. It’s been two years since we’ve seen each other and she’s so happy that Logan and I are finally tying the knot.
Maybe a little too happy.
She’s been married to her husband since we were in college because they got married right off the bat and couldn’t wait. Personally, I thought she was crazy for getting married on their one-year anniversary, but I guess it worked out.
Logan and I wanted to wait, and it’s not because we didn’t know if we wanted to get married or that we weren’t in love. I adore my husband. He’s worked very hard to become such an established attorney in the St. Louis area, which is no easy feat.
There are practically so many attorneys around the Greater Metro Area that they’re all chasing people around, waiting for lawsuits to happen. So to stand out and not get lost in the shuffle is an amazing accomplishment in itself.
It doesn’t surprise me, though.
He knows his stuff when it comes to the courtrooms, and he’s knowledgeable. Some might even call him an over-achiever, and I’d say that sounds about right but I think that’s why the two of us mesh so well together.
We both work our asses off.
You know the saying: work hard, play hard? That describes us to the letter. We both might bite off more than we can chew but when we kick back to have fun, we go all out.
&
nbsp; I wish that I could go to the lawyer party with him because I’m sure it’ll be a lot of fun and I want to show my support, but I can’t just skip out on my bridal shower. My good friend, Meagan, arranged and organized everything for my party. She’d kill me if I tried to back out of it.
Out of all of my bridesmaids, she was the most energetic about putting all of this together. Actually, she ended up taking charge of it all because she wanted to. The others let her because she can be a pain in the ass to work with, but we all love her. Once Megan has something in her head, there’s no talking her out of it.
I can only imagine the conversation we’d have if I tried to cancel my bridal shower. There’s no possible way that we could even try to reschedule it since it’s only a week before the wedding. There’s just no time.
“You look like you’re in deep thought over there. Is everything okay?” Meagan asks.
Did I mention that we work together and I’d have to face her every day after all the hard work she’s put into this?
“Yeah, I’m fine,” I say. “I just have a lot on my plate with it being so close to the wedding.”
She smiles at me, sympathetically.
“Anything I can help with?”
Do I tell her what I’ve been thinking about all morning or do I keep it to myself?
“I don’t know,” I sigh and rub my temples.
It 'd be good to talk to someone, but I don’t know if she’s the right person. It could be really good to talk to someone or bad if she takes it wrong.
“Come on, Pipes. You can tell me anything,” she drapes her arm around me. “Are you getting cold feet?”
“What?” I look up at her, surprised. “No. I can’t believe you’d think that.”
“Then what is it?” she asks.
Sighing, I shake my head and nod toward the break room.
“Want to grab something to drink real quick, and I’ll tell you about it?”
“Sure,” she agrees to go with me.
We each grab a snack from the vending machine and sit at one of the tables near the corner of the room. Twisting the lid off of my apple juice, I savor the bubbly flavor before finally swallowing it.
