With This Ring, I Thee Bed by Tyler Alison

Author:Tyler, Alison [Tyler, Alison]
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Publisher: Spice
Published: 2012-05-14T16:00:00+00:00

Blushing Bride

Bella Dean

“There’s the lovely Mrs. Loma.” Boyd buried his face against the back of my neck and I shivered. An entirely lustful rush of want ran from the nape of my neck to my virginal white panties.

“Here I am.” I breathed. I glanced around as his lips traveled lower, his tongue touching wetly to my right shoulder blade. I moaned and then the crinkling of cellophane filled the small, quiet corner of the ballroom we had managed to find.

“Molly,” Boyd said, with a laugh. He tried to sound stern. “What is that sound I hear?” He wrapped his big arms around my substantial white gown and his laughter rumbled through me. I continued to wrestle the Baggie out of my garter.

“Shut up, Boyd. I am having some stress.” I had quit smoking three months before the wedding. I had to keep up my fitness for modeling. The money was good, but the pressure to be thin was excruciating. I had to pick a doable addiction. Something I could burn off if I really tried. Something fat-free, portable and easy to smuggle. My new addiction was Gummi Bears. I didn’t light up; I chewed. I bit off little green heads, red arms, orange legs while the weight of wedding stress nearly crushed me flat.

Boyd guided one hand to my generously hoisted breasts and stroked me through the beadwork and lace. My eyes drifted half-closed even as I popped a green bear into my mouth. “Oh, God,” I said. Both to his touch and the bear.

“Tell your husband what’s wrong,” he said, swaying me with him to the music.

“My mother keeps telling the waiter to say ‘fillet mignon.’ You know, where ‘fillet’ rhymes with ‘billet.’”

“Did you tell her filet rhymes with bay?”

He kissed my shoulder and I pushed an orange bear into my mouth. The burst of sweetness on my tongue and the curl of heat in my panties commingled into a pleasantly doped sensation. “She said that the English say it. Fillet, fillet, fillet.” I changed it, wishing my mother would behave for just one day.

“But we’re not in England,” Boyd said. He rubbed my hips with his hands and my dress whispered secret things to us. There was entirely too much fabric between me and my groom.

“Ah, I tried that.”

“What did she say?”

I popped a yellow bear. “She said we’re not in France, either. So she can say fillet.”

“Ah. That makes sense.”

“Do not defend her.” Green bear, red bear, white. All in one mouthful.

Boyd turned me and I swallowed. He kissed me softly, fingers stroking over my waist. “I’m not. I’m just trying to calm you down.”

“And Uncle Jobie is drunk as a skunk singing ‘Margaritaville.’”

“But they’re playing The Spinners.”

“I know!”

“Molly, he gets drunk at every event.”

“Still.” Kiss, kiss, kiss went my groom. His tongue ran lightly over my bottom lip and my pussy went wet in my little white bloomers. “I just cannot breathe with all the stress.”

Boyd backed me farther into the murky ballroom corner. A fake plant shielded us from the insanity that was our reception.

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