Jilted Bride

Aiden Ashley kicks her bedroom door open in that fucking wedding dress, face red like she'd been sucker punched at the altar. August Skye follows, maid-of-honor turned co-conspirator. The dress has to go. Right now. August grabs fistfuls of white satin and yanks hard, seams splitting, lace tearing from Aiden's body in ragged strips. Skin flashes. Nipples harden under cool air and rough handling. They don't bother with gentle. August shoves Aiden onto the bed, climbs up, and plants her pussy on her face. Aiden licks like she's starving. They trade positions fast. August's breasts crush against Aiden's mouth while fingers dig into flesh. Aiden straps on the cock, grabs the white garter still dangling from her thigh, and loops it around August's neck like reins. She slams in from behind, hips snapping, pulling August back with each thrust. Wedding bells turned to skin slapping skin. The dress lies in pieces on the floor. All that fury pours out one thrust at a time.