I swallowed and glanced back down the aisle. The pews were packed with our friends, family, and the other assorted acquaintances and business contacts that one is compelled to invite to the notable events in your life. The soft spring sunlight cascaded through the stained-glass windows, giving the interior of the church a magical radiance. I was, at that moment, the happiest man in the entire world.
And it's fair to say that, even in these hallowed surroundings, my cock stiffened at the thought of what my wedding night would bring.
The ceremony passed in a blur, and we adjourned to the reception - the wedding feast, as Donna had referred to it throughout the planning, emphatic italics firmly in place, as if the gluttony and excess of the celebration would prepare us for the indulgences that would follow. The two of us ate only a little, and drank still less, reluctant to dull our senses before the big event.
It had started when we were discussing her wedding dress, back when the event was nothing more than a few sketchy plans made on some unlined paper. Neither of us were virgins, not by any stretch of the imagination, but Donna still favoured wearing white - a colour she would be entitled to wear, she reasoned, if she was willing to give up some other virginity on her wedding night...
Finally, after what seemed like hours, we made our excuses, enjoyed a final turn on the dance-floor, and retired to the luxurious suite I had booked for us. We were barely through the door before we were kissing, a burning urgency driving us into each other's arms.
Suddenly, Donna broke the kiss and eyed me voraciously. "Strip," she ordered me simply.
"You too?" I whispered, but she shook her head.
"I want to fuck in my dress," she hissed, and I grinned in response, already shedding my suit. In a moment I was nude, and Donna eyed my body lustily, chewing on her sensual bottom lip. We kissed again, our tongues hot and adventurous, tasting each other as if for the first time. Her fingernails traced white scratches over my shoulder-blades as I held her tightly and explored the body beneath the dress. Finally, our kiss ended, and we held one another, the air thick and charged with excitement.
"Let me see it," I moaned, my breath warm against her lips. She grinned wickedly, and turned around, lifting her skirts to reveal the backs of her stockings, the smooth, creamy flesh above, and, finally, her beautifully round bottom. My heart pounding, I reached forward and pulled down her panties, revealing the blunt, flesh-coloured end of the butt-plug that had been stuffed inside my new wife's asshole since early that morning. The knowledge that this wicked toy had been stretching her ring throughout the ceremony and the reception afterward had been exquisite torture all day long.
I knelt behind her and, one hand on her hips to hold her in place, I slowly withdrew the plug - four thick, stubby inches of phallic plastic slipped smoothly from her gaping, slippery hole.