Wedding Planners' Bridal Suite Strap-On Rehearsal

The bridal suite smelled of white roses, vanilla candles, and the faint ozone of fresh linen. Moonlight spilled through the tall arched windows, painting silver across the four-poster bed and the velvet chaise that dominated the sitting area. Lena Voss stood in the center of the room with her arms crossed, the crisp white silk of her blouse clinging to the sharp lines of her shoulders. At twenty-eight she had built a reputation as the most ruthless, most sought-after wedding planner on the West Coast. Nothing escaped her.

Maya Torres leaned against the marble vanity, twenty-four and vibrating with the kind of insolent energy that made Lena’s jaw tighten. The younger woman’s dark curls were half-pinned, the rest tumbling loose as if she’d already been fucked once tonight. She wore a tight black pencil skirt and a crimson blouse that gaped just enough to reveal the lace edge of a bra. In her hands she held the custom harness the brides had commissioned for their rehearsal—an buttery black leather contraption with silver buckles and a thick, veined silicone cock the color of warm caramel, ridged and realistically heavy.

“Think they’ll even use this thing?” Maya asked, voice low and mocking. She stepped into the harness, hips rolling as she cinched the straps tight. The fat dildo jutted obscenely from her pelvis, bobbing with every breath. “Or are they just going to stare at each other like nervous virgins while we pretend we know how to make two women fuck convincingly?”

Lena’s pulse kicked hard between her legs. Weeks of biting comments, accidental brushes in narrow hallways, and the constant electric push-pull between them finally snapped.

She crossed the distance in two strides, fingers hooking under the leather at Maya’s hips. With one sharp yank she dragged the entire apparatus down the younger woman’s thighs. Maya’s breath hitched, but she didn’t resist. Lena stepped out of her heels, unzipped her pencil skirt, and let it pool at her ankles. The cool air kissed her soaked panties as she stepped into the harness, pulling the thick straps high and tight so the base of the dildo pressed firmly against her swollen clit. The weight of it, the way it thrust forward like a challenge, sent a fresh gush of wetness down her inner thigh.

Maya’s dark eyes glittered. Without a word she sank to her knees on the plush carpet, mouth already open. The sight of her like that—lipstick perfect, mascara ready to run, staring up with pure competitive defiance—ignited something feral in Lena.

“Suck it,” Lena ordered, voice rough.

Maya wrapped both hands around the thick shaft and dragged her tongue from balls to tip in one long, obscene lick. Then she parted her lips and took the head into the wet heat of her mouth. The realistic ridges dragged over her tongue as she bobbed forward, cheeks hollowing. Saliva glistened on her chin within seconds. She kept her gaze locked on Lena’s the entire time, daring her, pushing her.

Lena’s control frayed. She threaded her fingers through Maya’s thick curls and thrust forward, sliding the fat cock over the younger woman’s tongue until it bumped the back of her throat. Maya gagged once, eyes watering, but she didn’t pull away. Instead she moaned around the silicone, the vibration shooting straight to Lena’s clit. Lena fucked her mouth harder, hips snapping, the wet gluck-gluck-gluck of throat-fucking filling the bridal suite.