The Bride's Best Friend's Filthy Wedding Weekend Craving

The Bride's Best Friend's Filthy Wedding Weekend Craving

The Caribbean sun had finally slipped below the horizon, leaving the resort glowing with strings of golden lights and the distant crash of waves. Lauren, radiant in her ivory silk rehearsal dress, was laughing at something her perfect groom, Michael, whispered in her ear. The two of them were the center of everything, as they should be. Tara stood a few feet away in her emerald bridesmaid gown, champagne flute in hand, trying to ignore the heavy, knowing stare burning into the side of her neck.

Jake.

Lauren’s stepbrother. Thirty-two. Recently divorced. Ex-Marine. Built like a man who could throw her over his shoulder and fuck her senseless without breaking stride. He’d always looked at Tara like he already owned her. For years she had told herself it was just harmless tension. A filthy little fantasy she rubbed out to in the dark when no one was around. But this weekend the fantasy had teeth.

He was standing too close again, pretending to listen to one of the groomsmen while his dark eyes dragged slowly down the curve of her neck, over the swell of her tits pushed up by the structured bodice, and lower. Every time their eyes met he gave her that crooked, arrogant smirk that said he knew exactly how wet her panties already were.

“You look like you need to be bent over something heavy, Tara,” he murmured when he drifted past her on the way to the bar, low enough that only she could hear. His breath brushed her ear. “Been thinking about that tight little cunt of yours since the moment you stepped off the plane. Bet you’re soaked right now, aren’t you?”

Tara’s thighs clenched. She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Lauren was ten feet away hugging her mother. But her silence only made Jake chuckle, dark and low, as he kept walking.

The tension coiled tighter with every passing hour. During the rehearsal he stood directly behind her in the line, close enough that she could feel the heat of his body. When they practiced the processional, his fingers brushed the small of her back, then slid lower, grazing the top of her ass through the thin fabric. She had to bite her lip to keep from gasping.

By the time the rehearsal dinner began, Tara’s nerves were raw. Three tequila shots at the open bar didn’t help. They only loosened the last frayed threads of her self-control.

She was coming out of the ladies’ room when a large hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her sideways into a dimly lit service hallway lined with potted palms. The door clicked shut behind them. Jake’s massive frame crowded her against the wall before she could protest.

“Been watching you all night,” he growled, voice rough as gravel. One thick thigh shoved between hers, forcing her legs apart. “Every time you cross those pretty legs I keep imagining my cock splitting them open. You’ve been dripping for me for years, haven’t you, Tara? While my stepsister stands up there in white pretending she’s pure.”

Tara’s breath hitched. Her hands came up to his chest, but she didn’t push him away. “Jake… we can’t. She’s my best friend. Your sister—”

“Stepsister,” he corrected, teeth flashing. “And I don’t give a fuck. I’m going to ruin this married pussy all weekend. Starting right now.”

His mouth crashed down on hers, claiming, brutal. His tongue invaded without mercy. At the same time his hand shoved up under the hem of her dress, fingers hooking into the soaked lace of her thong and yanking it aside. Two thick digits speared straight into her dripping cunt without warning.

Tara cried out into his mouth. Her walls clamped down hard around the sudden stretch.

“Fuck, you’re drenched,” Jake groaned against her lips, pumping his fingers deep and curling them against that spongy spot that made her see stars. “Listen to that sloppy wet sound. Your best friend is out there talking about forever and you’re in here creaming all over my hand like a desperate little whore. Say it.”

Tara’s head thunked back against the wall. Her hips rocked shamelessly onto his thrusting fingers. “I… I need it,” she whimpered.

“Louder. Tell me what you need.”

“I need you to fuck me,” she gasped, shame and lust twisting together into something filthy and perfect. “I need you to ruin me, Jake. Even though I can’t. Even though she’s my best friend. I don’t care anymore. Please.”

He pulled his fingers free, brought them to her mouth, and pushed them between her lips so she could taste herself. “Good girl. Now you’re going to keep that needy cunt wet for me until I decide to wreck it.”

The reception was a glittering, drunken blur of fairy lights, clinking glasses, and laughter. Tara danced with Lauren, smiled for photos, and tried to pretend her thighs weren’t trembling with anticipation. Every time she glanced toward the head table, Jake was watching her like a predator.

Halfway through the father-daughter dance, he caught her eye, tilted his head toward the main building, and mouthed one word.

Bathroom.

Tara’s pulse thundered. She waited two more songs, then slipped away, heart hammering so hard she felt dizzy. She found him leaning against the wall outside the private family restroom, arms crossed over his broad chest. The moment she was close enough he grabbed her, unlocked the door, and hauled her inside.

The lock clicked.

Tara dropped to her knees before he even spoke.

Jake unzipped his trousers and pulled out his cock. Thick, veined, already leaking. The sight of it made her mouth water. She wrapped both hands around the heavy shaft and sucked the fat head between her lips with a greedy moan.

“Fuck yes,” Jake groaned, threading his fingers through her perfectly styled updo and ruining it instantly. “Suck it like the cheating slut you are. That’s it. Get it nice and sloppy. Your best friend is out there cutting cake while you’re in here gagging on her stepbrother’s dick.”

Tara took him deeper, relaxing her throat, letting him push past her gag reflex until her nose pressed against his pelvis. Saliva spilled down her chin in long, shiny strands. She looked up at him with watering eyes, mascara starting to run, and the raw lust on his face made her clit throb.

He fucked her face with short, brutal thrusts, growling the whole time. “Look at you. Maid of honor on her knees like a cheap whore. Lauren would lose her mind if she saw her precious Tara choking on this cock.”

The degradation only made Tara suck harder. Her hand slipped under her dress to rub her aching clit while she worshipped him.

Jake suddenly pulled her off his cock with a wet pop. “Enough. Bend over the sink. Now.”

Tara scrambled to her feet, turned, and braced her hands on the marble. Jake yanked the emerald skirt of her bridesmaid dress up over her hips, ripped her thong down her thighs, and kicked her legs wider. The fat head of his cock nudged against her soaked entrance once, twice, then slammed home in one vicious thrust.

Tara’s scream was muffled by his palm clamping over her mouth.

He pounded her without mercy. The sound of his hips slapping against her ass filled the small bathroom. Each thrust drove her forward against the sink. In the mirror she could see everything—her flushed face, smeared lipstick, mascara tears, and Jake behind her, jaw clenched, eyes feral as he destroyed her pussy.

“Watch yourself get fucked,” he snarled, yanking her head back by the hair so she had no choice but to stare at her own reflection. “Watch what a filthy betraying slut you are for me.”

He slapped her ass hard, over and over, until the skin burned bright red. Tara came with a muffled wail, pussy spasming violently around his pistoning cock. Her juices squirted down her thighs and onto the floor.

Jake didn’t stop. He pulled out, spun her around, and lifted her onto the counter. Her legs were spread obscenely wide, heels hooked over his shoulders as he drove back inside her in deep, grinding missionary.

“Look at me,” he demanded. “Tell me whose cunt this is now.”

“Yours,” Tara sobbed, cumming again, harder. “It’s yours, Jake. Fuck— I’m yours. I don’t care about anything else.”

He fucked her through the second orgasm until her eyes rolled back. Then he buried himself to the hilt and came with a guttural groan, pumping thick, hot ropes of cum deep into her spasming pussy. The sensation of being filled by him while her best friend partied just outside the door sent Tara into a third, shattering climax. She bit down hard on his shoulder to keep from screaming his name loud enough for the entire resort to hear.

When he finally pulled out, a heavy trickle of his seed immediately began to leak from her wrecked hole. Jake stepped back, breathing hard, and stared between her spread thighs with dark satisfaction.

“Push it out,” he ordered. “Let me see my creampie dripping down your legs like the dirty little cheater you are.”

Tara whimpered but obeyed, bearing down until thick white globs of his cum oozed out of her and slid in slow, obscene trails down her inner thighs, staining the tops of her stockings.

Jake watched every second of it, then helped her down. They cleaned up in frantic silence—wiping, straightening, fixing her ruined makeup as best they could. He kissed her once more, filthy and possessive, before slipping out first.

Tara waited another minute, then stepped back into the warm night air on shaky legs. The cum was still leaking out of her with every step, soaking into her thong, making the insides of her thighs slick. She could feel it every time she moved.

On the dance floor Lauren spotted her and waved her over with a bright, trusting smile. Tara smiled back, cheeks flushed, pussy still throbbing and full of her stepbrother’s load.

As the music pulsed around them and Lauren hugged her tight, Tara’s mind was already spinning ahead.

Tomorrow was the beach day. Then the farewell brunch. Plenty of opportunities. She would find a way to get Jake alone again—maybe in one of the private cabanas, or behind the dunes where no one could see. She was already imagining his cock stretching her ass this time, or him making her ride him while Lauren sunbathed twenty yards away.

Tara squeezed her thighs together, feeling another warm trickle of his cum slide down her skin, and smiled against her best friend’s shoulder.

This weekend was only the beginning. She was already scheming exactly how she was going to get fucked again before they even left the island.