Girlsway Update - Holy Matri-Moly!: Wet Wedding

The air reeks of panic and white lace. It's supposed to be the big day—Adriana Chechik's wedding—and the groom's vanished into thin air. Her nerves fire, raw, until Abigail Mac, best friend and maid of honor, steps in to smooth the jagged edges. Then the phone rings. Groom's plane's stuck somewhere over the Midwest. The news lands like a sucker punch. Adriana nearly loses it. Abigail talks her down, voice low, steady. She slips one loaded suggestion in: Maybe this delay is fate waving a red flag. Love wasn't supposed to look like this. That stops Adriana cold. Abigail presses, softer now, admitting the thing she's buried for years—she's in love with Adriana. The confession knocks the air out. Abigail keeps going. She points out how Adriana acts like half a person around her fiancé, how he never quite touches the same spots Abigail used to, how Adriana stopped soaking the sheets the way she once did with Abigail's fingers and tongue. The question burns: Was it just a wild spell or has the groom been missing the mark? Adriana wavers. The room feels smaller. Abigail leans closer, offering the simplest, dirtiest way to get clarity. “As maid of honor,” she whispers, “I’m here to help. Let me make you come the way you used to. One squirt and you’ll know who really owns that greedy pussy.” Hesitation fights lust. Then Abigail's mouth claims her—slow, sure, a kiss that melts every argument. Fingers follow, parting Adriana's folds with deliberate strokes. Wet, warm, relentless. Every lap, every twist teases that old overflow, drawing it closer. Abigail works like she's got something to prove, and Adriana arches, gasps, giving up every last doubt to the rhythm of her best friend's tongue and the risk of ruining the dress before she ever walks the aisle.