Payload

The kitchen's swing door swayed open, expelling a blur of black and white. A bowtie was tossed upon the tile floor, then a blazer soon following it, and the beautiful white dress' long, elegant train was hauled through the filth.

The pop of parting lips preceded her harsh, ragged gasp for air, a second before she was jammed backwards into a clattering rack of crockery.

"God, Chandler...!" she moaned. "Shh, someone will hear, fuck! We've been married for ten minutes and you're already all over me!"

"I can't help it. You in that dress..." he entombed her against the racking and growled, his breath on her neck. "I've wanted you on your knees since the ceremony. I want to see you swallow my cum as if your life depended on it."

She hissed as his large hands seized her; the whimper that followed betraying her arousal. His kisses resumed before working peevishly down her chest. Sharp, nervous moans escaped her lips as he yanked her neckline down over her breasts.

"Chandler!" she hissed. "Don't you fucking dare rip this dre-ahhhh!" She cut short as Chandler bit down on a firm, distended nipple.

"God, I love your tits," he snarled into her cleavage.

Lifting his eyes to hers and touching their heads together, he whispered, voice hoarse with lust.

"Should I tear this thing off and christen your married cunt right now?"

The way she gnawed her bottom lip, eyes clamping shut, and the sigh she exhaled suggested she'd like that very much.

"You can't... The party, we can't be long..."

"Then hurry up," he growled.

Pushed vehemently to her knees on the cold tile floor, the dress billowed out around her.

"God, I'm such a whore," she mewled, instinctively reaching for his belt and fly.

Hauling his pressed, clean trousers to his ankles, her fingers expertly encircled his growing cock. Lining it up to her soft full lips, she allowed herself one languid lick along the length before gobbling the tip.

"Yes, baby, you're my little whore."

The hand stroking her hair autonomously pulled her deeper. As he slid into her throat, she reeled bodily backwards, gagging and slapping his thigh.

"Asshole!" she spat. "Don't even think about ruining my make up! I'm already losing my lipstick on your fucking fat cock!" She struck his hands out of her hair. "And don't ruin my hair! It took fucking hours and everyone will notice!"

He glanced down, sneering at the tide-mark of red lipstick three quarters of the way down his manhood.

"You love it, you dirty whore. Now suck my fucking cock, I've been dying for it all day!"

Again he pulled her down, though not quite so far, and this time she relented. One barely audible whimper of pleasure echoed through his pulsing member. He chuckled.

"I knew it," he teased.

Both hands enclosed her neck, repeatedly forcing her lips to the base and back again. She surfaced with another choking splutter, blinking back tears.

"Fuck! You just can't help yourself, can you?" she sniped.

He shook his head, looking mollified.

"Nope. Who can resist fucking your beautiful face on an occasion such as this?" She rolled her eyes. "Besides, you're my little whore, April, why shouldn't I?"

April let out the most blatant moan yet, flinching at the involuntary noise. Chandler couldn't resist laughing as she blushed.

"Yes, April. My little whore, aren't you?"

One big hand seizing her jaw, he stared into her blinking eyes. She nodded weakly.

"Say it. You're mine. My little whore. You belong to me."

April's eyes screwed tight. She swallowed hard before replying, her voice small and abashed.

"I'm your little whore, Chandler. I belong to you." Her eyes flickered open, pleading with a single desperate expression. "Fuck. Please, give me that cock, baby."

"You love this big fucking cock, don't you, Whore?" Her new title was reinforced with a firm slap across her exposed, puckered tits.

April flinched, her pussy clenching and dripping from her treatment. Shivering on her knees, her big beautiful eyes flashed with deprivation and desire.

"I love you and your big beautiful cock. I want it. Hurry! Please!"

"I knew you'd beg in the end, Whore."

Pinned back to the shelving and having her mouth aggressively invaded, she barely held back her choke before pushing herself deeper once again.

Undeterred, both hands gripped his bare arse, drawing him closer, deeper, sucking him harder, intent on draining him of every last drop. Two wordless minutes passed as Chandler braced against the racking, grousing and enjoying the attention lavished upon his writhing cock. April gave out only slurping, content mewls.

"I'm gonna... Gonna..." he staggered.

April steeled herself and pushed him all the way, her throat clenching tight as he swelled inside her.

"I'm... Fuck!"

The door crashed open, booming through the quiet room. Chandler startled, pulling back. With every inevitable pulse, his aching cock coated April's helpless face and tits in thick streaking lengths of cum.

"Jesus, Chandler... Are you kidding me?" hissed the man from the doorway. "She's barely fucking got the ring on. You need to give the best man's speech in two minutes, you'd better get out here." He stopped, staring at April for a second. "Clean yourself up, April, for fuck's sake. You look like a fucking whore."

He stepped out and the door swung shut as a thick drop of cum dribbling from April's cheek was caught by her tongue. She licked her lips and looked him in the eye, a single wet streak of mascara gilding her flushed cheeks, garnished with Chandler's fresh sperm.

"Do I look like a whore?" she asked.

Chandler knelt in front of her and smirked, pressing a rogue droplet of cum into April's lips.

"Yes, baby. And I love it. You'd better clean yourself up, Whore. They're all waiting for the blushing bride."