A Wedding - Sex Stories

A Wedding

... erection, but she never though he would dare to imagine he was a fit person to witness her defloration. Jonathan was the perfect mate, like a statue in ebony, their coffee toned children could be both acid tolerant and UV tolerant as well as avoiding the cellular problems of the ebonites, it was the future, not enshrined in statute but the mantra of all right thinking folk. “It is time, do you have any lubricant?” Rev Jones asked “No, Reverend, I am wet already, look” Kriska slipped a finger into her sex and then held it we and glistening for the Reverend’s inspection. “Jonathan, come we are waiting.” The Reverend insisted. But as Jonathan turned and folded his black trousers and shorts over the Altar rail Kriska saw he was far from ready. “Jonathan, please what is wrong?” Kriska asked as she saw his penis drooping uselessly. “I guess I am nervous.” He said shyly, apologetically. “You may fondle or suck your Jonathan if you wish,” The Reverend reminded her. Kriska chose to hold her lower lips open to entice Jonathan, but as he remained limp she took his scrotum in her left hand and his shaft in her right hand and brought the tip to her lips. It remained flaccid. “No I cannot be. Daddy said you were hard when he checked.” “Drugs” A voice boomed from the back of the church. “Did you take drugs Jonathan?” Kriska asked. “Yes” he admitted, “Viga capsules” “Why?” she demanded. “My Dad, I told him, told him I love Mark but Dad insisted I could do it if I tried, but I can’t. I need ...

... Mark to.” Kriska slapped his face then fell from the plinth her legs waving uselessly in the air as the congregation laughed. Kriska saw her perfect world disintegrating before her, she was now officially a woman and by law had to copulate within twelve hours of the stitching being cut open. She saw the extent of her betrayal, her Groom was unable to complete, the best man who by tradition would try if the Groom failed was the Groom’s lover and no one had made any arrangements, her only option the public brothel where any one might take her, why had her parents not bought her a place in a private brothel, why had she been so stupid. The events unfolded like a dream, or a nightmare, Jonathan remained stubbornly flaccid, then Mark tried and he too failed leaving Kriska ashamed and humiliated beyond reason. “Please Mark,” She begged as she ripped her dress from her shoulders and discarded the last of her underwear displaying her perfect breasts and erect aroused nipples but still despite his ebonite beauty Mark remained obstinately flaccid. She sobbed, and then the Humilliation began. “I can’t help my dear," Rev Jones advised her, "They changed the law. Before last May I could have penetrated you, but with it being Saturday it looks like either someone here will take you or you must register as a whore, at the Public brothel in Maine street, and do the required two hundred copulations before, well you know the regulations.” The Public brothel, where until she became pregnant or ...