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The following is the first entry in an anthology of true sexual encounters and adventures from my life. While the woman in these stories may vary, most of them feature my current wife. Regardless of the timeline or relationship, the names will remain the same--Jacob and Zoe--to keep the series cohesive. Every moment captured here is real, raw, and written for your pleasure. Without further ado, here is the first true adventure of Jacob and Zoe.
They had no idea when they got dressed that morning just how filthy the night would get. No clue that somewhere between the ceremony and the last slice of cake, Zoe would end up soaking wet, bent over a table, whispering the filthiest thing Jacob had ever heard her say.
Weddings always made her a little extra. It wasn't just the champagne or the flowers or the music--it was the eyes on her, the lace, the flirtation baked into the air. She looked stunning in that soft blue summer dress, vintage pin-up style, hugging her curves like it had been tailored to fuck with his self-control. Her bare shoulders, the way her skirt swished just above her knees, her blonde hair pinned perfectly back--it was classy, almost innocent.
Almost.
Because underneath, she wasn't wearing any panties. She didn't tell him. She didn't have to.
He found out the way every man dreams to--when they were slow dancing and he ran a hand down her back, only to feel nothing but the curve of her ass under the dress. She gave him a wicked little smile over her shoulder, and just like that, the whole night changed.
They lasted through the toasts, the cake, the sparkler send-off. But when they found themselves briefly alone, they didn't hesitate. They wandered off the main floor, ducking into unused corners of the venue, giddy and flushed like teenagers.
That's when they found the room. The temporary bridal suite, unused since the ceremony got rained out. A folding accordion wall barely separated it from the packed reception. One tug and the whole thing could open. But the far wall? Pure glass--floor to ceiling--rain dripping in streaks that caught the glow of the city. It was like standing inside a painting.
They shut the door behind them.
She looked back at him with that quiet, knowing grin--the one that only came out when her body was already getting wet.
He sat in the lone chair, his cock already stiff under his suit, and pulled her onto his lap. She straddled him, the heat of her bare pussy pressing right through his pants.
When she reached down to guide him in, she was too tight--too dry from anticipation, too wound up. She gasped, frustrated.
Jacob knew her body. Knew the shortcut.
He reached up, cupped her tits through her dress, and started to work them like only he knew how--thumbs rolling her nipples, palms squeezing the weight of her breasts until she gasped again, this time with a tremble.
That was the switch. Always had been.
In seconds, her pussy went from dry to red-hot lava.
He slid inside her and they both moaned, breath catching in the space between their mouths. She was tight, snug, and soaking wet--her body clenched around his cock like it had been designed for it.
She didn't ride him slow. Didn't tease.
She fucked him like a woman on a mission.
Zoe had that look in her eye--half lust, half challenge. This was a competition now. She wanted to make him come as fast as possible before they got caught. Her hips slammed down on him over and over, her thighs flexing as her dress rode higher with each bounce. Her breath came fast. The sound of her wetness was barely muffled by the rain and the faint thump of bass from the reception.
Jacob's cock was so hard he didn't even feel it at first--just pressure, fire, and the unbelievable heat of her pussy clamping down on him.
She leaned into his ear and moaned, "You like that everyone's just feet away? You like my tight little cunt bouncing on your cock like this?"
He could barely hold on. The slap of her ass. The perfect swing of her tits. The look in her eyes.
"I'm gonna come," he growled.
Zoe slid off fast, hit the ground on her knees and opened her mouth, ready--but he stopped her.
"Your makeup," he whispered. "Don't ruin it."
She stood. Flipped her dress up. Bent over the table.
And looked back at him with the kind of dirty smirk that makes time stop.
"I'm too fucking horny to waste that cum on the floor," she said. "Get it in me now, big boy. I'm gonna go taste it later anyway."
He pushed inside her in one thrust. Her ass bounced against his hips. Her pussy sucked him back in, greedy and soaking, swallowing him whole. He fucked her hard, fast, just like she needed--skin slapping, her hands gripping the edge of the table, her breath fogging the glass in front of her.
She was whispering now, ragged and wet. "Fill me. Fill my fucking pussy. I want it dripping out of me."
He groaned and buried himself deep as he came, pulsing inside her with a force that made her gasp and press her hips back to take it all.
She stayed there for a second, catching her breath.
Then, without missing a beat, she reached into her purse and pulled out a pair of tiny black underwear.
"Brought them in case I danced," she said. "Good thing I did."
She slid them on slowly, biting her lip.
"By the time I made it to the bathroom," she told him later, "your cum was already soaking through them."
She used the pair she'd taken off--still mostly clean--to wipe herself up, and before tossing them in her bag, she licked her finger, tasting him.
⸻
The rest of the night was a blur. They returned to the reception with flushed cheeks and fast smiles, surrounded by people who had no idea what they'd just done. But they couldn't keep their hands off each other.
And when they got in the car, Zoe wasted no time.
She unzipped him and leaned across the console, mouth sliding over his cock, moaning around it as she licked up every drop she could still taste. His hand tangled in her hair as he whispered her name, told her how fucking good she was. She didn't stop until he was hard again, twitching in her mouth.
Back at home, the real explosion came. The clothes hit the floor, and they made love like animals--slow, then rough, then slow again. Zoe was louder now, filthier, completely unchained.
"You fit me," she moaned, pulling him deeper. "I've never had a cock like this. It's like my pussy was made to take it."
He felt it too. The suction, the rhythm, the way she squeezed him tighter the closer she got.
That night, they didn't sleep much. Just sweat, kisses, and the memory of what they got away with--right on the other side of a paper-thin wall.
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