“Kallum?” Payton asked from beneath me, her legs spread like an invitation as the last letter of my name slipped into a moan. “I... This feels good. Like, so supergood... But I can’t miss the bouquet toss... so maybe we could speed things up here...”
“Oh right. Yeah.” I flipped my tie over my shoulder and began to thrust deeper and harder. I always liked to take my time, and I did aim to please, but just like the Slice, Slice, Baby motto said:Speedy delivery guaranteed or your next pie’s on the house!
She buried her chin into her shoulder and let out a low groan through her teeth, like if there were a pillow to bite down on, she would. “Wait, wait, wait! Can you do the thing?” she asked breathlessly.
“The thing?” At this pace, I couldn’t last much longer. Payton was one of my sister’s oldest friends, and one of the first girls I’d ever seen without a bra under their clothes. (Unless you counted my mom or Tamara, and I definitely did not.) Bras were dumb. So, so dumb. I loved the swoop of a woman’s breast without one—a preference I discovered at a young age thanks to Payton. Fucking Payton now, though, in her best friend Natalie’s bridal suite, was the kind of teenage fantasy too good to be true.
She ground back into me. Was this love? It could be love. It might be love.
“You know, the dough thing,” she said as she slid off my dick and waited for me to make my move.
I inhaled deeply, ready to put her right back where she was. God, I said I wouldn’t do this. I said the last time was the last time... but this really was the last time. I couldn’t say no to Payton. I’d never be able to live with myself.
She pouted and her nipples pressed through the silk of her bridesmaid’s dress, begging me to run my mouth over the fabric. But then I’d break the most important rule of fucking at weddings: do not, under any circumstances, ruin the dress. Sex with clothes on was A+++. Five pepperonis out of five. But having to be gentle and careful with those silly dresses no one ever wore again after that one night always made me feel like a bumbling giant at a tea party.
But one day I would fall in love and I’d treat my dream girl to a new dress every day just so I could tear it to shreds every night... with her permission, of course. And maybe one day was today, who knew?
From the other side of the event hall, the DJ’s voice echoed through the thin walls of the former nunnery turned hipster venue. “Ladies, ten-minute warning before that bouquet toss. Let’s get ready to ruuuuuuuumble!”
Wedding DJs were the worst... but Nolan always said I only thought that because I saw myself in them. To that I said,Don’t you put that evil on me, Nolan Shaw. But maybe Iwasjust like a wedding DJ. You couldn’t tell me those guys dreamed of playing weddings when they were young and dumb and still foolish enough to dream. Back in my INK glory days, I thought I’d be living it up thanks to a long-lasting solo career after me, Nolan, and Isaac would eventually go our own ways. At the very least I’d be producing music, but here I was instead, the owner of a regional pizza chain, fucking his way through half the weddings in the greater Kansas City area.
There was the sex tape, though. That had been a surprisingly not-awful thing—well, unless you asked my sister and my mother. (Or myself, if my head had too much space to think as I was falling asleep at night.)
Speaking of Nolan though, he was supposed to be here. All Natalie had wanted as a wedding gift was for me and Nolan to sing “A Love Like That”from our sophomore album for her first dance, but he backed out at the last minute, and when Natalie found out I was the only crooner left standing, she not-so-gently told me that they’d just have the DJ play the original recording.
Yeah, that one bruised my ego.
But to be fair, we did hook up a year and a half ago at Chad and Chad’s wedding—yes, they were both named Chad. The next day, Natalie went on to catch the bouquet and then meether newly acquired husband at the post-wedding brunch—and she turned out to be the latest in a long line of bridesmaids to find the love of her life soon after shagging me. It wouldn’t have been so bad if word hadn’t spread across the whole group of people Nolan and I had grown up with. These days, I’m the most sought-after party favor at any wedding, luckier than catching a bouquet.
At first, it was fine. But after the sex tape and the rash of weddings over the last year, I was starting to feel like the pizza you left in the fridge the night before leaving for vacation.
But Payton... I couldn’t say no to my former crush, now, could I?
“Ten minutes,” she said. “Let’s try to wrap this up in two. I gotta check on Natalie before the toss. Your sister did her bustle, and no offense, but her fingers are about as nimble as a pack of Hebrew National Hotdogs.”
Right. I nodded. The grand finale. I had to make this good. Payton was the kind of woman who left detailed ratings on Google. If I didn’t give her a mind-blowing orgasm, she’d make sure everyone we grew up with knew about it. “Let’s do this,” I said, “but maybe try not to drop my sister’s name while we’re boning.”
She gave me a small salute and immediately squealed as I hauled her up by her soft, round hips and flipped her over. She rucked her dress up around her waist and leaned over the arm of the velvet settee. Okay, I could turn off my stupid, mopey brain long enough to enjoy this teenage fantasy come to life.
She readjusted her nude mesh underwear and pulled it to the side, an act of politeness and filth all at the same time.
Midwesterners are nothing if not considerate.
And yeah, she was right... I could do a lot in two minutes.
Without warning, I thrust forward and Payton threw her head back in response, her soft black tendrils turning messy as they cascaded against her back. She bit into her own palm to silence herself, and that right there was enough to make me come.
Even though I knew I shouldn’t (if rule number one was the dress, rule number two was definitely the hair), I wrapped her locks in my fist and gently tugged.
“Oh God, Kallum, say it! Please. Say it!”
And that was it. That was enough to kill the mood. At least in my head it was. But my head didn’t bother to deliver that message to my stupid dick, which was basically on the verge of spilling.
“Say it,” Payton begged.
I took a deep breath and let her hair fall back over her shoulder before I slapped her ass and plowed into her just like I had with another bridesmaid in my now-infamous sex tape. “And that’s what I call tossing the dough,” I said with as much enthusiasm as I could muster as she pushed back against me, our rhythm sending her over the edge... and well... me too.
Consider this dough tossed.
