This is an independent story, but it does explore the flipside of events in story 29 — All men are bad boys.
Wedding catfight, cheating threesome, naughty at hand object,
Ewan Griffith, the groom, knew instantly there would be a problem as soon as his lovely finance, Krista Jones, announced she was having two bridesmaids at their wedding.
It wasn't the likely competition between the two tarty bitches as to whom would scrub up the best that made Ewen wince.
It wasn't their general foul-mouthed, hard-drinking ladette nature that could potentially rankle with his relatives at the reception once the hard-partying began.
It was the fact Ewan had touched them both up at college rather unsuccessfully and unknown to Krista.
Unsuccessfully here is defined as youthful failure to fuck them.
He had felt them both up behind the gym, not together, not that lucky, but quickly after class — on separate occasions.
It was what Ewan thought was a perfect male; wet, deep, fuzzy pussy finger probing: which at the time ranked equal to his only below-the-navel experiences with girls.
Both Geraldine and Krystal, at the time, preferred less fumbly, less nervous fingers and gravitated to more practised, confident, hunkier pricks than Ewan. Self-assured cock pussy raiders and arse bandits, packing condoms.
Ewen was lucky he got what he got, mere Polyfilla between the senior rugby and the senior basketball teams. The snide bitches ignored him after the lacklustre event, and he was pretty much dismissed from their memory.
A polite table tennis champ didn't cut it with these sassy, saucy chicks.
He was left youthfully thinking until Krista dated him — all women were just cock teasing bitches.
Ewan wasn't looking forward to their close company at the wedding.
Krista had invited everyone from college, so Ewen sucked it all in.
Hell, if they got drunk and told Krista about the college touch-ups, it would wreck the day, his honeymoon and maybe more.
Still, his mates Gareth and Stephan were in attendance on the day to keep the spoilt bitches as tame as possible. Ewan was determined this would be Krista's perfect day.
He would do anything to make that happen.
The spiteful heifers were in horrid form way too early at the church, an hour before the wedding was underway. The two slandering cows were nearly spitting in each other's faces as they finally realised how frumpy they looked in their matching bridesmaid dresses.
There was too much material— satin overload. The truth universally known to all men and girls is that — women look their best naked. So do guys!
Geraldine's blonde roots and visible neck tattoos were not dress-matching highlights. Nor were Krystal's piercings, a tasteless gold nose ring, and a silver lip stud.
Gareth and Stephan were dumbstruck by the foul-mouthed, carping, squawking tarts. They were getting nasty, cutting, and acidic with each other in the wedding party waiting room.
Geraldine fired with more invective than a poisonous blowfish, "Ms Piggy has a nose ring!"
Krystal spat, "Why didn't you print your slutty tattoos on the arse of your satin!"
"Well, at least my face doesn't look like a pufferfish, even with professional makeup," Geraldine snapped back venomously.
"You bitch, at least my pubes are true blonde!"
The scales were tipped beyond the feisty verbal.
Gareth and Stephan knew what was going to happen before it unfolded. They both knew they should have separated the bitches for Ewan's and Krista's sake. Still, that awfully compelling suckered-in moment occurs when trollops start a catfight.
The guys winced, but they still watched, fascinated.
The scene unfolded harsh and fast.
There was no male sparring.
There was instant mutual hair grabbing.
Ouch.!
How fucking quickly could coiffured, tressed hair be mussed. How quickly could pretty satin fabric be crumpled, rumpled and even frickin torn and unravelled?
It was lucky they didn't get their manicured claws— near talons — into each other's faces.
The tantrum stopped as they toppled and fell together over the table with the flowers, a vase, an ornamental candle holder, the corsages and the guy's bouts, which were flattened under their rolling bodies.
The slatterns were out of energy and finally realised they were both a terrible mess. Krista wouldn't want either of them at the altar.
So they did the selfish blubbering — separately.
Self-centred, ego-convulsive sobbing — actually fem-bawling.
Not a good look.
Gareth got out his emergency hipflask and put quality-proof twenty-year matured scotch to crisis use, pouring a stiff straight drink for each of the two-floored hellcats.
Stephan went looking for the groom to sort the mess out. The bride would be coming down the aisle in thirty minutes.
The alcohol calmed the viragos down. Well, the second quaff each polished off the contents of the flask.
Gareth and Stephan decided to dash to a known florist around the corner to replace their lapel flowers. Ewan said he would help the girls get presentable for Krista's arrival.
His mates would be back in ten to fifteen minutes, they said.
The groom looked at the pair on the floor — separately — he had to bring them together for Krista's sake.
Ewan sat between Geraldine and Krystal, a calming shoulder around each of them. He gave them both the gentle consoling tap and pat.
How the fuck that led to Geraldine's tongue in his mouth and Krystal's hand inside his pants, fondling up his pecker into a hard stiff mass; well, human sexual opportunism is just that- opportunism and the response.
The groom didn't resist — he was a willing prick and, on his wedding day, in the church.
Ewan's cock was on autopilot. His man piece was expecting pussy today; it was just getting it a tad early. His hand was inside Geraldine's dress, caressing her shapely full titties. Christ, she has stiff, long nipples.
Krystal's head was wrapped around his cock. She was suck happy. It hadn't taken long to redirect her mind: just one fat boner.
Ewan was lying back, covered in copious dress fabric with hints of exposed plump girly flesh. Geraldine's fulsome creampuffs were slapping leisurely across his face, and her nipples were lingering for an intense male mouth suck.
Krista was not in Ewan's mind currently.
Krystal had her scrunched, crushed, rumpled dress hitched around her waist, and her G string—well, that was a surprise under a bridesmaid gown—pushed to the side of her fleshy camel toe, her creased folds of skin puckering out in their dewy, shaved pinkness.
Then she was plunging her exposed crimped pleats of skin around Ewan's throbbing cock head. The immediate moments then subsumed in wet enveloping bliss. Her ability to manipulate her vaginal contractions was stunning.
Man, was she a seriously good fuck.
She was also a seriously loud fucking moaner.
"Ooh, ooh, yes, ugh, ugh, ooh!"
She was also seriously going to cum at least twice within a few minutes.
Geraldine was face-sitting, and Ewan was slurping a cute coochie with true blonde pube decorations.
Boy, did this sheila have a clit to play with. It was a bulbous bead, and the lass loved getting attention. She climaxed quickly with her fully erect clitty.
Ewan completely forgot about his impending wedding. The celebrant was getting organised, and guests were arriving and being seated.
Ewan was having it off with the two bridesmaids. No thought of saving a wad for the bride later. His happy balls weren't worried. They were sure they could refill for another pussy in the evening.
Finally, there was something the two minxes were willing to share.
Booty! Gorgeous haunches! Spread tailpipes!
Geraldine said, " A bit more spunk in your chest, and this could have been yours in college- such a shy boy then!"
She winked her rilled hiney faster than a flasher opening his coat.
Not to be outdone, Krystal gaped her banana canyon.
"So true. With a bit of mettle in your balls behind the gym, you could have had us cheek to cheek."
Ewan accepted the dual invitation.
Well, he had two hands!
He offered his middle finger to each chick.
"Spit on this!"
The pair layered his digit in a drizzle of drool.
Ewan unceremoniously shoved each finger into twin wriggling cracks.
Both heifers grunted.
"Ugh, oh yes, deeper, you sod," from Geraldine.
Krystal added, " Oof, aah, twist and crook, you prick!"
Ewan obliged the duo.
Mmm, he suddenly faced the difficult prospect of which tart first! The other was sure to complain and reignite a kitty brawl!
A fortuitous candle lay within reach on the floor.
Ewan stabbed his meat stick with break-neck velocity into Krystal's snazzy shute quicker than pirates digging for buried treasure.
"Raah, oof, oh my! You are a dirty bastard, aah, aah, aah!" shrieked Geraldine as a candle invaded her bum.
Krystal prompted, pressed and pushed her peachy hemispheres surrounding her constricted ring backwards onto Ewan's pelvis.
"Ugh, ugh," from the groom-to-be.
"Oof, ah! Oof, ah!" from the bridesmaid.
Quicker than a panty thief can sniff musky knickers, Ewan swapped the young strumpets.
He breached Krystal's snug, cushy crack with the candle like a battering ram forcing a castle wall.
"Uugghh!" she groaned before adding, " That is frickin' super trashy! Oh, yes, ooh, yes, ooh! Ooh!"
Geraldine simultaneously was schlong speared like a brazen rapier thrust in a duel.
"Whoa! Shheez! You naughty boy that is plumbing my depths! Orrgh! Orrgh!"
Doxy minds think alike. In a flash, the tarts were on their knees, seeking a spray of communion cum.
Their lips were begging for the arrival of the steamy, squirting spray. Their impudent, shameless, brazen mouths were wide open.
Ewan had another moment of doubt.
Not about marrying Krista. Hell no; she was a super hot fuck at any time, and she would get it deep and indecent tonight. And her arse filled tomorrow morning.
The doubt was a renewed bunfight or worse if he splashed in only one of the two expectant mouths in front of him right now.
Which of these bitches to drench?
Then he knew it had to be both their unblushing faces at once.
Like a goddamn firefighter focusing the full force of a jet stream, he held his pecker and waved it across two fiery waiting mouths at once.
He quenched their need simultaneously. He plashed baby gravy on Geraldine's eyelid, cheek, and ear. He spritzed jizz on Krystal's nose and daubed her chin with pearl drops. Ewan sloshed white custard cream directly down twin throats.
Fuck, a guy can do no more for his bride on her wedding day but keep the peace between the bridesmaids.
Holy hell, they had five minutes to get to the frickin alter.
Couldn't have Krista thinking she was jilted.
Geraldine and Krystal tidied up in a tarty way. Their faces were glowing, though, and everybody later said they looked so pleased for the bride with their beaming smiles.
Nothing like a recent climax to present lustrous cheeks radiant.
The ménage a trois were at the altar seconds before Krista was escorted down the aisle by her father.
Ewan only had seconds to think — Frickin Jesus! Where were his best man and groomsman?
He later found out the opportunistic pricks had double-teamed the young chick running the florist shop. Gareth and Stephan DP'ed their way through their mate's wedding.
"…to have and to hold…forsaking all others…" waffled on the priest.
Damnation! Gareth had the ruddy ring.
This was a disaster.
Krista would never forgive him!
The groom was close to hyper-fucking-ventilating.
No worries.
Krystal's gold nose ring was a perfect fit.
"Seriously, Ewan… lighten up, dude. What are friends with benefits bridesmaids for?" whispered Geraldine, passing over the makeshift matrimonial band.