Prison Fling

by Cassandra Dee

  In a flash, I was down on my knees next to Elaine, which was no easy feat given my curvy form and the puke-green bridesmaid dress that poufed everywhere.

  “Here,” I said urgently. “I’ll tie it around your leg. No one will see, and no one has to see. As long as you have something blue on, you’re gonna be fine.”

  With that, the bluish-green strip of silk was fastened around Elaine’s thigh with a jerk, the knot tied tight. I got up again, brushing curls out of my face, heaving and panting from stress.

  “Elaine,” I said seriously, taking those narrow shoulders between my hands and staring my friend in the eye. “It’s fine. You can do it. Everything’s perfect.”

  And with that, my best friend took a long, slow, snuffly breath.

  “I guess so,” she murmured, blinking back tears. “I guess so.”

  “Go!” I said, physically turning her shoulders so that she faced the big doors. “We’re gonna walk out after you. Go!”

  And with that the doors swung open, revealing a rapturous crowd. Like in a movie, a ray of sunlight streamed from the heavens, hitting Elaine’s blonde head and making her glow. And what do you know, but my friend beamed then, as beautiful as a fairy princess.

  Even for me, it was hard to believe that a mere five seconds earlier, she’d been screaming and cursing like a sailor, practically purple with rage.

  But all’s well that ends well, and relieved, I breathed a huge sigh of relief. Thank god. An epic disaster averted, and mentally, I made note to award myself with an extra large slice of cake later.

  But suddenly Mary, the wedding coordinator turned to me, hand gestures frantic.

  “Ready,” she mouthed. “Three, two, one …” and then she pointed straight at me like a movie director. It was my turn.

  The timing couldn’t have been worse. Not only was I hassled and annoyed, panting and sweaty, but I had on a puke-green bridesmaid dress with an ugly tear at the bottom. To add to my misery, Elaine had picked something with ruffles. Not just a discreet ruffle here, or a discreet ruffle there. But literally ten tiers of ruffles, making me look like the big green monster from Hell.

  But there were no options. It was Elaine’s big day, and when she’d presented me with the dress, it had been all I could do to smile weakly and say, “Thanks.”

  “You’re gonna look beautiful!” Elaine cooed, eyeing the gown and admiring her own taste. “Absolutely ravishing.”

  I swallowed hard. Was my friend for real? Because anyone with eyes could tell that even a professional model would look bad in this thing. But brides often pick ugly bridesmaids dresses so they look better by comparison. Swallowing hard, I could only manage another weak, “Thanks,” before taking a swig of my drink.

  But now the moment was here. It was time to parade down the aisle, all eyes on me in this massive glob of green. Oh, and the hem had a million loose threads. If I was lucky, I wouldn’t trip and land flat on my face. The perfect ending to this debacle.

  Suddenly the organ music swelled loudly again, Mary’s hand gestures growing ever more frantic. So smacking a smile on my face, I tried to look thrilled, taking one step forwards. There was no gasp of awe, no delighted smiles when the guests saw me. If anything, there were only shocked stares instead.

  Because yeah, I’m a big girl. I’m curvy everywhere, and the thing about these ruffles were they were in all the wrong spots. The ones at my bust made my Double Ds seem even bigger, and the ones at my hips only emphasized my sassy figure. I tried to walk gracefully, but the ruffles on my ass wiggled and swayed like a showgirl’s feathers.

  Smiling frozenly, I placed one foot in front of the other, mentally telling myself to move forwards. Keep going, keep going, the voice in my head urged. Almost there.

  And finally, I was at the end of the aisle. The entire walk, my eyes faced forward, seeing but not seeing, almost like headlights frozen in place. But now I had to turn left, and my head jerked slightly as I got my bearings. Smile. Keep smiling.

  But as my eyes focused, suddenly the world was upended. Because there was Bobby, the groom, standing there sweating bullets. I felt sorry for the poor guy, his suit looked too tight on that portly figure, and clearly, the A/C in the church wasn’t enough to keep him cool. There were growing wet patches under his arms, showing through his wedding suit.

  But it was the men standing next to him that made my breath catch, insides going warm and loose. Because there were three gorgeous, dark-haired men lined up next to the groom. Massive with incredible builds, they took me in with bright blue eyes, knowing smiles curving those lips.

  Who were these guys? Why hadn’t I seen them before? Suddenly it came rushing back. That’s right, these were Bobby’s friends from childhood, three alpha males allegedly so successful that they couldn’t leave their fancy careers in New York until the last minute. So they’d missed the pre-wedding dinner last night, as well as the ceremony rehearsal this afternoon.

  But wow, what an introduction. Because they were devastatingly gorgeous. No one was going to look at me. No one was going to notice my ripped dress or the way that I was sweating slightly. In fact, no one was even going to notice Elaine for that matter, these guys were that magnetic, bright blue eyes like lasers.

  But my body jerked into motion once again. If I’d been self-conscious before, I was even more self-conscious now. With slow steps, I walked stiffly to the far edge of the altar, positioning myself next to the other bridesmaids. Oh my god, oh my god. Hopefully, my performance hadn’t been too robotic and stilted.

  But as the minister began to drone, my eyes slid across by themselves, going further and further until they landed on the three groomsmen again. And it was then that I gasped, big boobies rising visibly. Because the three men were looking at me, not even pretending to pay attention to the ceremony. I guess the audience couldn’t tell, our backs were turned. And clearly Elaine and Bobby were in their own world right now, eyes fixed on the minister.

  But I could tell. I could feel how those blue eyes ate up my figure, appreciating the expanse of white flesh at my décolletage. I could feel their gazes all over my bottom, leaving trails of fire, making me go deliciously hot. And as I stared back, one of them did something so wrong, so randy, that I shuddered, pussy sizzling with anticipation.

  His arm didn’t move an inch. But a male hand went down, down, down until it was right in front of that huge bulge. And my eyes popped then. Because the tent in his pants was enormous, like a giant anaconda lying in wait. And subtly, very subtly, those thick, blunt fingers caressed the snake, my eyes gong wide as the hardness twitched visibly, growing and straining beneath the grey suit pants.

  Oh my god, oh my god! We were literally in church, standing in front of a crowd of people. In fact, the minister’s words were droning on about peace and love and prosperity for the married couple, while this groomsman teased, stroking his boner and making me wet.

  I should have been disgusted. I should have turned away, jerking my chin like I was too good for this depravity. But instead, a blush crept over my cheeks and I smiled at the three men. That’s right, I smiled sweetly and slowly, my tongue slipping out to run over glossy pink lips.

  It wouldn’t have looked like anything if you saw. Merely a bridesmaid feeling a little hot, licking her lips as she watched the ceremony from the sidelines. But the three men knew. They knew I liked being here, with them … and that I wanted much, much more.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Tyler

  Goddamn. This little backwater town was a piece of shit. Knox, Tennessee? Where the fuck was that? Where the fuck was Tennessee for crying out loud? Being from New York City, no place exists for us but Manhattan, the island at the center of the world. It’s sad but true. So to be dragged out here on a beautiful weekend was a major sacrifice.

  But fine. It’s Bobby’s big day. And since we’ve been buds from childhood, me, Kane and Mason made the trip. We didn’t sit in business class. Not even first class. Because we came by fucking private jet. Hell ye
ah, the plane is something we bought not so long ago. And why not? It saves time and there was an aviation sale last year. No big deal.

  But shit, Bumfuck USA was off to a bad start. There wasn’t even a runway big enough for our plane, can you believe it? So we had to do an emergency landing on a grassy field nearby, the G-6 descending from the heavens like an avenging angel, ominous and huge, its wings looming shadows.

  But we’re here now, lined up stiff at the front of the church. Bobby, my friend, this better be worth it.

  Because the four of us have been pals since childhood, and Bobby has always been the nicest, most laid-back guy around. Chubby with big, thick glasses, sure, but sometimes you need that. You can’t all be hoods and gangstas, every clique’s gotta have its Mr. Magoo. So Bobby is my bro and now, holy shit, it’s his wedding day.

  Because I hate weddings. A root canal or some mindless meeting would be better than a wedding. Girls, they get ideas at these things. It’s like they catch fever or something. Suddenly, women that were once rational and happy go insane, spouting talk about commitments. Shit. One woman, a couple weddings back even stroked my hand while murmuring, “Wouldn’t it be nice if this was us?”

  Holy fuck. No thanks. And I don’t mean “No thanks, maybe sometime in the future.” I mean, “No thanks, not ever.” Because why the fuck would I get married? There’s too much to do in life, a variety of pussy to taste. So why would I limit myself to just one?

  And it gets worse. The last girl I made the mistake of taking to a wedding got the crazy idea that somehow yours truly was ready to put a ring on it. You can bet she got a ‘Dear John’ email the next day. Or in her case, ‘Dear Jane,’ plus a six figure emerald necklace. That seemed to put a lid on it. The ladies know that the jewelry train only runs if they shut the fuck up and put their feelings on the back burner.

  So yeah, I’ve been in the hot seat a couple times now, the targets of several scheming women. But I’ve learned to deal, even to turn it to my advantage. After all, sitting on top of a giant global conglomerate, you learn how to manage these things.

  So yeah, I use the situation to get what I want. And that’s sex. There’s mad hormones in the air at these things, and some girls, instead of wanting to get hitched, turn into crazed sex friends, ready to be taken anytime, anywhere. Oh yeah, some figure they need to “catch up” to their married friends, or “live it up” somehow, throwing themselves at me like a bunch of desperately flopping fish.

  So discreetly, I scanned the church. My buddies Mason and Kane were doing the same, their eyes roving over the crowd. Not much, unfortunately. A couple old biddies wearing hats as big as umbrellas, feathers extending three feet in the air. Why the hell would you do that? It was more circus freak than Duchess of Windsor.

  Disappointed, I snorted. Oh well. At least the jet was still at that grassy field, ready to take off. We could leave as soon as humanly possible. Maybe after the wedding reception. Hell, maybe after the ceremony, if it came to that.

  But my thoughts were interrupted by the swell of organ music. Suddenly, the volume got turned on max, and what had previously been some pleasant elevator music in the background became a full-on cacophony of chords. Fuck. Is this what counted for classy in Buttfuck, Nowhere?

  The double doors to the entrance swung open slowly, and shit, but Elaine stepped in then. What the hell? I thought bridesmaids and flower girls walked first, but evidently, Elaine wanted all eyes on her from the get go.

  Her blonde hair was perfect, a smile lighting that angelic face, but there’s no fooling me. That bitch is crazy town with a heavy dose of insanity. The couple times we’d hung out hadn’t gone down well. She was constantly whining “Bobby this, Bobby that,” ordering him around like a pet poodle. He’s the fucking mayor of Knox! You’re lucky you snagged him, especially with your bipolar tendencies.

  Not only that, but one of those times, Bobby had forgotten to order one of her favorite drinks and she’d gone bat shit crazy at the bar, screaming that he didn’t love her and how could he claim to love her when he didn’t remember something as simple as that?

  Needless to say, the night had been a bust, the mood blown after listening to Elaine criticize Bobby for nothing. God. Why the hell is he marrying her? It must be the pussy. Her pussy’s gotta be the holy fucking grail, because why else would he stay around, much less tie the knot?

  But maybe that’s what we were here for: to keep him from making the biggest mistake of his life. Maybe we were here to rescue him. It’s not too late. We can haul him on the private jet and get him back to New York as soon as possible. He can be the Runaway Groom, like in the Julia Adams movie. Silently, I cheered in my head. That sounded like a plan. What was the alternative after all? Fifty years of life with a harpy who stole your money? Was there a pre-nup at least?

  But nah, it wasn’t gonna happen. Stealing a glance at Bobby next to me, my heart went out to the man. Seriously, I felt bad for the poor guy. Chubby and sweating bullets, his face was bright pink, eyes bulging from behind those heavy glasses.

  Maybe he was having second thoughts after all. If he really wanted to make a run for it we could get him out of here James Bond-style, no sweat. I opened my mouth to say something, but then the wedding march started. Well here we go. Too late now, live and let live, buddy … it’s your life.

  So staring straight ahead, I watched disinterestedly as Elaine sashayed down the aisle, preening and smiling, nodding while batting her lashes. By my book, she was ugly. If you like skinny blondes, then Elaine was your girl, weighing in at ninety pounds, her shoulder bones scarily sharp, chest practically concave.

  And the bridesmaids weren’t much better. I saw, but only because my eyes had to see. Like their blonde friend, they too were scary skinny, a bunch of scarecrows held up by wooden rails. Elbows so sharp they could cut through metal. Faces strained and pulled tight from hunger, the shape of their skulls visible underneath. Man, somebody get these girls a ham sandwich pronto.

  But suddenly, all my pre-conceived notions were upended. Just when I’d given up, the last bridesmaid entered, biting her lip, brown curls a halo around her head. Shit, but this woman had curves! My gaze locked on her like a tractor beam; I couldn’t tear my eyes away from that lush female form. She had tits that went on for days, wide hips that swung right and left, and an ass so big you could eat a meal off it. Holy shit! She was so unlike the other girls. Where the hell had this chickadee been hiding?

  And I wasn’t the only one that noticed her. Next to me, Kane and Mason stiffened, riveted by her presence. In fact, their whole bodies shifted to focus intently on the girl, like she was a magnet drawing our attention. We were lions stalking our prey, gazes unwavering, dicks getting hard already. I hadn’t been able to stop staring at those Double Ds for the last minute. Fuck, what would they taste like? What would it taste like between those sweet thighs? Would her puffy slit be creamy and hot? Aw, shit.

  But finally, the wedding procession came to an end. The minister’s voice started droning and Bobby took his bride’s hand, yadda yadda yadda. We faced forwards because that was the right thing to do. It’d be a fucking riot if Mason, Kane and I continued to stare at the beautiful bridesmaid out in the open, our hands on our dicks as we ate up those curves. But that didn’t mean we were done for. Hardly, the three of us are dirty motherfuckers, and this was just the beginning.

  Because we made eye contact with the beautiful brunette. In fact, all the bridesmaids were eyeing us, practically drooling. But as the ceremony started, everyone was forced to pay attention. Or at least look like they were paying attention.

  Because once I had the beautiful girl’s eyes on me, I did something so fucked up and dirty that she could have screamed, and no one would have blamed her. Yeah, I popped my dick out. At first, it was just a stroke on top of my morning suit, making sure she saw that heaviness, the thick stiffness that’s my calling card.

  But no sense in stopping there. Our dreamgirl was entranced, and no one else even noticed.
So discreetly, I pulled down my zip as we stood in front of the priest, the old dude still droning monotonously about fidelity, love and honor. And with stealthy hands, it happened. I edged my fuckrod out for the girl to see, that giant length deep pink, already stiff with need.

  Oh yeah.

  Could she see how fat I was, massive and ready to take?

  Could she see the wet glans, how my pole dripped with lust?

  Suddenly, Mason coughed beside me, and I whipped my dick back into my pants. Oh yeah, the motherfucker was dying of laughter, even if his own rod begged to make an entrance. That tent at his crotch was just as bad as mine, if not worse.

  So yeah, I put it back in. Enough had been done already. After all, I pulled my dick out and stroked it during someone else’s wedding, right in front of a crowd of onlookers. Sure, no one could see because we stood a particular angle that blocked the view. But still. It was fucked-up. It was my best friend’s wedding, and I’d been a sick motherfucker.

  But it was worth it because that one act made the sweet girl’s eyes go round, her face flushing, pink pout forming a round “O” of shock. Was it wrong? Hell yeah. Triple X dirty? You bet. Happening again? For sure, times three.

  Because Mason and Kane want in on the game too. We’re fucked-up assholes, guys who go at it three on one, owning females left and right. And here, in tiny Knox? There was only one brunette who fit the bill, who could possibly satisfy us all. And fortunately or unfortunately for the beautiful bridesmaid … her time was up.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Kane

  Aw shit, Tyler’s so fucking disgusting. Pulling out your dong during a wedding ceremony? Showing it in its full glory as people are getting married? Doing it at the wedding of our buddy, no less, Bobby Winkle from childhood?

  But Tyler’s just like that. Hell, Mason and I are like that too. Because shit, I would have done the same if I’d been standing where he was positioned. Fucker was turned so that no one could see except us and the beautiful brunette. And then that fuckpole came out, hard and glistening, as he smiled lasciviously at the girl.