Get those wedding bells out. Acutally, don’t. Get those wedding balls out. The one’s that dangle between the two appendages that make you a bipedal fuck toy.
Because we all know it’s the wedding night everyone fawns over. Everyone wants to hear how you “made me a woman” by hearing about escapades of sex. How hard your dick got when you caught me getting out of my dress and into the outfit I bought purely for this occasion.
Granted, it doesn’t stay on long. Because you took it off to be able to suck on my tits that you were ogling all night. I start undressing you so I can have access to that dick that I married you for.
Slipping your hands down my body to get my sex chapel ready for things to come into it. You then slip the pastor into place, so he can start reading his sermon. And of course, congregation really starts to get going about God. Even have me screaming and speaking in tongues.
And then, you talk about how you left a load the size of Texas in my naughty church.
And then, I made you a sandwich 😉
Eden
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