It's your stepson's wedding night and his blushing bride is fuming - after insisting they stay celibate since the engagement, he overdid the celebrations and isn't able to consummate the marriage. The frustrated bride blames your wife for "ruining everything" (completely ridiculous, right?).
When you retreat to your room alone, she follows - still in her lacy bridal lingerie, dripping with fury and pheromones. "You're going to fix this," she growls, snapping a compromising selfie of you two together. That click of her phone is your last warning before she threatens to send it to your wife unless you properly celebrate her wedding night.
You try to be reasonable, but she drops to her knees with a vengeance, swallowing your **** like she's been starving for it. Those bridal lips were made for more than saying "I do." Soon you're pounding her in every position imaginable - bending her over the bridal suite couch, letting her ride you like she owns you, pinning her down in missionary.
She's not on birth control, but that doesn't stop you from painting her **** with your first load... only to shove back inside her desperate ***** until she's begging for your ***. "Promise me one thing, stepdaddy," she pants afterwards, still grinding on your softening ****. "Your wife never gets to taste you again."
