Chapter 3: Our turn
Sharon leaned against the wall of pink, her heartbeat racing, a smirk creeping across her features. She was wild and brave, even a little reckless - but Hayley, the petite, vivacious woman in her early thirties, made her feel like anything was possible. Sharon's captivating green eyes flicked over to Hayley's flushed face, taking in every inch of the contagious smile that made her heart skip a beat.
Before Sharon knew it, she was taking a step closer, and then another, closing the space between them. Hayley's electric energy, amplified by the confidence she now wore as a second skin, drew Sharon to her like a magnet.
"Hayley," Sharon said, her voice barely above a whisper. "Would you mind if I..." And before she could finish her sentence, Sharon's long brown hair brushed against the side of Hayley's face, leaving a trail of warmth behind as her lips pressed gently against Hayley's earlobe.
In anticipation of the delicious chaos that was to come, the room seemed to grow smaller, as the weight of the atmosphere shifted.
Armed with a sense of boldness and the thrill of the unknown, Sharon's hands started their descent, tracing a lingering path down Hayley's arm. Hayley's eyelids fluttered as she allowed herself to feel the sensation of Sharon's lips on her ear, praying that the spark would burst into an inferno.
She was soaked already, nerves melting away as she sighed against Sharon's neck. "Yes, please."
Every word tasted and felt like sin; a sharp intake of breath sent a shiver down her spine. Hayley's hands met Sharon's and guided them to the zipper on her back. Slow, deliberate steps were punctuated by the methodical sound of teeth unfastening, as the hired seamstress's head lay hidden in shame and curiosity.
Vicky remained in her spot, embracing the role of the eager audience, watching as the two women reveled in their primal desire.
Sharon's hands lingered teasingly as she eased the zipper's metal tab down Hayley's spine.
The fabric of the bridesmaid gown pooled around her waist, revealing the flash of red lace that hugged Hayley's hips and left a fellow bridesmaid breathless.
"Goddamn, Hayley," Sharon murmured against Hayley's neck. "You're fucking gorgeous."
They stood embraced in a moment of unspoken connection and anticipation. Sharon, still leaning against the wall, stared at Hayley with dark and longing eyes full of want. Hayley, with her back turned, cheeks flushed, and hands trembling slightly, didn't want to break the spell.
Slowly, Sharon reached down, her fingers slipping beneath the elastic edge of Hayley's underwear.
Hayley gasped, her breath hitching as the sensation sent a wave of pleasure crashing through her. Sharon didn't tease or hesitate as her hand ventured further, slipping past wetness and heat, finding a familiar spot that brought Hayley to her knees.
The bridesmaid gown now sat in a slinky puddle around Hayley's ankles, and still, she allowed Sharon to take the lead.
As more of Hayley's skin was unveiled, her anticipation built—until a single finger toyed with her. Expertly, Sharon traced the wetness, setting off electric shocks that danced from Hayley's clit to her nipples.
Hayley, reduced to a ragdoll, moaned and shivered. With Sharon's every teasing touch, her body begged for something more substantial, yearned to be pinned and stretched to its very limit.
"Now, turn around. Let me see you," Sharon ordered, her voice dripping with want. The intoxicating mixture of lust and authority in her command sent Hayley's head spinning, and she quickly obeyed. As she gradually spun, the red fabric cascaded from her, revealing her body, shuddering and readied, for what was next.
"Beautiful, you're absolutely beautiful," Sharon murmured, discarding the last wisps of self-control, pulling Hayley close.
She cupped the nape of Hayley's neck, roughly, seeking. She kissed her, and it was raw, rage and sin and baptism all rolled into one earth-shattering moment.
Their lips met like desperate lovers, their teeth clattering, humid tongues lashing in a thirsty dance. Sharon's other hand found Hayley's tits and pinched the already puckered nipple circled by the red lace. They cried out, finally free, and Hayley slipped her hand inside Sharon's jeans.
She cupped her mound, and Sharon moaned, as if her entire wicked soul had been touched. Their grinding hips slid together, their buttons popping away in wicked delight.
Underneath the lace, of both the bra and the thong, Hayley could feel the heat from Sharon's pussy and her pulse quickened. She wanted to rip that fabric away, to expose her flesh, to push her fingers in deep and thrust them with every ounce of passion she had.
Hayley's wetness coated her hand, which was still trapped inside Sharon's jeans.
"Sit on the fucking bed," Sharon commanded and Hayley did as she was told, letting out a moan while her hand was still buried within her. Vicky was only a couple of feet away, absorbed in her phone, seemingly unaware that her bridesmaids had lost all touch of grace.
Sharon quickly shrugged herself out of the ruined jeans, her lacy black thong following shortly behind.
She joined Hayley on the canopied bed, its light pink fabric wafting gently around them, enclosing them in a world of their own.
Sharon's body, firm and taut, moved against Hayley's like waves meeting a jagged shoreline. Her hand dove between Hayley's legs where they intertwined, creating an indescribable sensation that made Hayley tremble.
Passionate breaths filled the bridal suite-turned-sanctuary.
Their hands roamed without hesitation, Sharon now kneeling between Hayley's wide-open thighs.
"You're dripping, Hayley. Like a fucking faucet," Sharon whispered, her warm breath tickling Hayley's inner thighs, making them slick with more of her nectar.
Hayley writhed, feeling her breasts swell, hideously aroused by Sharon's candor. "Please, don't stop," she pleaded.
Sharon's look was pure wickedness and a promise.
She parted Hayley's soaked lips, exposing her clit to the open air, to the rest of the room, and to her tongue. With the first lick, Hayley's body arched, shuddering with the surge of pleasure.**
“Oh, God, Sharon,” she moaned, fingers gripping the canopied bed.
Sharon's tongue dipped into the shallow pool of moisture before tracing its way back to Hayley's clit.
She licked, sucked, and swallowed Hayley's need, driven to worship her secret like a sacred offering.
Hayley's legs shook uncontrollably as sensation coursed through her veins. Trembling and grasping for a stable hold, she fisted Sharon's long, brown hair, urging her to keep going and not let up.
Sharon, determined and hellbent on pushing Hayley to the very brink of her resolve, slipped two fingers inside her.
She crooked them, curling them upward, beckoning her clit and sending Hayley flying. Fucked and frantic, Hayley's back bowed, fingernails scraping at the fine silk comforter as if clinging to her last strand of sanity. Sliding upwards, Sharon positioned herself above Hayley, breasts swaying and eyes smoldering like hellfire.
Straddling Hayley's face, Sharon dove back in, relentless and begging for more.