Made Of Honor

 I have several stories about Karma DeTorres, the sweet faced Latina with the volley ball boobs and perfectly sculpted butt. This is one of my favorites...

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Jenny Weston had never had a sip of alcohol before her wedding day. That must be understood. Otherwise you would not believe how quickly the several toasts of champagne (all on an empty stomach, mind you) affected her. And how, despite her mother's whispered admonitions, she persisted in quaffing glass after glass of the bubbly to the health and fortunes of her union to her high school sweetheart (and recent college grad) Mike Kendall. Just how many toasts had there been? There was the Best Man's toast, the Maid of Honor's toast, the Father of the Bride's toast, the Father of the Groom's toast, the Mother of the Groom's toast, her college roommate's toast, the minister's toast, the wedding singer's toast. Those she could remember. The others that followed were just a blur, splashed about in the flickering disco lights and loud, vibrant rhytmns of the Pop and Rock music.

And then there was the little, private matter of the valium she had taken to calm her nerves (also on an empty stomach) before the ceremony itself, clandestinely provided, of course, by an older, understanding relation who had used it to good success for her wedding. For Jenny Weston would never had else had taken a drug not prescribed her. Just as she never permitted herself to drink---or to be fucked---before her wedding.

To be honest there was actually something to in favor of being sedated or blitzed before taking her new husband's long, fat cock up her super tight cunt. Yes, she knew that prick well. She had sucked it enough now to know it from it's oozy tip down to it's sturdy base and big, bloated, hairy balls. God, he was huge! Nearly ten inches long and as thick as her tennis rack handle. And Jenny was such a petite girl. Nothing at all like her best friend Karma DeTorres, who not only towered over the cute, little five foot two blonde, but, unlike Jenny, was built for fucking with those natural volleyball tits, that wide, round, smooth, firm ass, those thick, powerful thighs and those long, tappering legs, all bathed in a lush, light copper tan.

Yes, Karma was a "babe," as they say, a "hottie," a "knockout," a "ten," a Latina love goddess, and at nineteen she was at the peak of her perfection. She was quite the sexpert, too, capable of adding a few chapters to the Kama Sutra. It was good friend Karma after all who had catechized Jenny in the rites of oral sex, instructing her undefiled neophyte that the best and surest way to satisfy a man without letting him actually fuck you was to suck some really awesome dick, demonstrating the best form and techniques on her aunt's dildo for good measure. So Jenny learned to suck Mike's cock, but only that, and only when Mike's big, bad boner was so stiff and throbbing it was practically bursting out of his pants, and only then if the time and place were suitable for her. What a fucking tease!

A tease that was now teetering on the brink of collapse, wobbling around the dance floor in a giddy dither.

"Great!" Mike gritted to himself as he watched her reeling into a drunken, drugged stupor, "Now I'll have to wait another night to get laid. Shit!" Then his eyes fell upon the fuckable Karma, curling her soft, pouty lips into a comely smile. Karma fucking DeTorres! He had just jerked off to her the night before. At his bachelor's party his father-in-law-to-be had shown him a few snapshots of Jenny and Karma in their bikinis taken this past Spring Break. Jenny looked cute as usual, but Karma...DAMN! He wanted those pictures. Truth to say, he wanted Karma; but he knew he could have neither. The photos, Mr. Weston explained, had to be given back to Jenny as they were the only ones from the trip, Jenny's last single girl wing-ding before her wedding. That wasn't true, there were more copies, but Mr. Weston wanted these for himself, and for the very same, perverted reason Mike had wanted them.

So after the party had ended and the Groom-to-be had returned to his old bedroom at his parents' house to beat his meat over a mental image of Karma, Jack Weston came back home to pull his pud in the hallway bathroom over the actual, glossy color prints. The hallway bathroom, yes, for his wife might catch him "red handed" in the privy off the master bedroom. And his wife had caught him often enough gawking at Karma over the past years. She knew he was dying to fuck her---hell, who wasn't?---but she took self-assurance in the fact that Karma didn't appear to exhibit the slightest interest in him. So far as Mrs. Weston could divine nothing was happening, had happened, or was going to happen between the two. Still, he shouldn't be ogling his young daughter's young friends like that. Tsk, Tsk.

So Jack Weston went to work on himself, a photo of the thong bikini clad Karma in one hand and his stiffening prick in the other, flogging his log like a master masturbater. And what a magnificent cock it was! Had Jenny come upon the scene just then she would have discovered that her dear old daddy actually had a longer dick than Mike's!---as hard as that might be to believe---more than two inches longer, in fact, though not as fat: a sleek, handsome prick. But, alas, it was not Jenny who opened the bathroom door now to find Jack in mid stoke on his eleven inch boner. Nor was it his wife, as you might have suspected. Rather it was their house guest for the weekend, Jenny's BFF, Spring Break companion and maid of honor...Karma DeTorres.

Jack gulped, covering his cock. Karma gasped, covering her mouth. Both reached for the door and slammed it shut. It all went by in a flash, but in that short moment everything had changed. Jack had not only exposed himself physically but also sexually, for Karma had certainly spotted the photo he was jerking off to---the one showing off her perfectly plumped ass as she smiled saucily over her shoulder, the very image that was in Mike Kendall's head at that very instant as he creamed all over his hand, loins and bedding six blocks away.

"Jesus Christ!" Jack huffed, looking down at himself. He had shot his load, too! A pool of spent spunk lay glistening on the tiled floor just beyond his feet and his slimy prick slit was dripping out the last little globs of milky cum. He had indeed blown his cover in more ways than one.

Hastily he pulled up his pants, scrubbed his hands and crotch, and poked his head out the door. Karma had fled, but on the hallway floor he noticed a pink cased cell phone, undoubtedly Karma's, and picked it up. Someone was on the line.
"Are you still there? Hello?"---It was Mike's voice!---"I said...uh...I just came...so...ah...I don't...I mean I'd still like to...I've always liked to...you know...uh...phone sex or..."

That fucking bastard! The night before his wedding! His bride's---my daughter's---best friend! But then, he couldn't blame the randy young man all that much. He was just as guilty himself.
"Fuck! This is going to be some wedding!" Jack groaned. Then he headed off to bed.

And now there was Karma, looking as fuckable as ever in her tight and silky maid of honor's gown hugging and highlighting her voluptuous curves, catching Jenny in her arms just before the blushing bride hit the floor out cold. Poor girl! Knocked out on her wedding night! Mrs. Weston was quick to her side, so were Jack and Mike, to be sure. But it was Mrs. Weston who took command of the situation. Luckily the reception was in the lobby of the same hotel Jenny and Mike were spending their wedding night at in the aptly named bridal suite. So Mrs. Weston dispatched the three of them---Mike, Karma and Jack---to take her daughter upstairs and stay with her while the mother of the bride saw to the festivities and their guests.

They enterred the elevator, carrying the nearly comatose Jenny among them, Mike lifting her shoulders and Jack and Karma her legs. Jack tried hard to avoid glancing at Karma beside him but---God! Look at those big fucking tits!---and Mike as well was finding it impossible to take his eyes off her massive jugs. Karma for her part just smiled. After all, she knew damn well what she was doing to them, didn't she?

After a few minutes that seemed several hours to the two horn dogs they were at the bridal suite. Mike fumbled for the pass key and handed it to Karma to open the door. They brought the dead-to-the-world Jenny in and laid her on the bed and pulled off her shoes.
"You better move her over a bit," Karma suggested.
Mike and Jack nudged her a few inches to the side.
"A little more, guys."
They tugged her a few inches more.
"More. To the edge of the bed."

They were perplexed but like all mortal men in the presence of a goddess still complied, rolling the bride's unconscious body nearly off the bed.
"Good!" Karma commended, bolting the door behind her and unzipping the side of her gown, "Now there's room for all of us!"

[To Be Continued]