Bella Houston was looking around the banquet hall of the Ritz hotel, smiling dutifully. Inside, she was not smiling. The new Mrs. Houston was regretting choosing money over freedom. At only 21, she had let herself fall into the trap of being a bought and paid-for wife. Her husband, Charles Houston the Third, was very wealthy. Unfortunately, he was also quite dull and boring. He was absorbed in his passion, with money being no object, he was delving into Archeology.
His lovemaking, if you could call it that, was similarly dull, he'd grab her ass and her tits, squeezing and twisting them, thinking that was the way to get her motor running then he'd jump aboard, and with no grace, ram in his 5-inch little dick. Her grunts and wrigglings of discomfort got him nicely warmed up, thinking it was her pleasure he was hearing, and in 1 to 2 minutes, he'd stiffen up, and grunt and growl like a fucking wildebeest, and dump his load, one or two squirts and he was done.
She saw Charles' cousin, John Mason, trying to make inroads with Cassidy Riley, her best friend and her Maid of Honor.
*****
John Mason thought he had a good thing going, as Charles' best man, he'd been paired with the new bride's maid of Honor, Cassidy Riley. God, she was a real cock stiffener, 5'8", 130 pounds, big luscious 36DD chest, super curvy hips, golden blonde hair, and big blue eyes. Her backside was just as hot, he had observed how her rump was nicely rounded and full with a graceful curve, perky and smooth. He imagined himself between the spread of her thighs, grabbing that JLo-style ass as he poised it against her pussy and drove in, his 8 inches rock hard and eager. They'd done all the customary duties, and as the band started up, he swung her onto the dance floor. After the first dance, she'd wandered away, and he'd followed her.
Just outside the hall, he'd cornered her just off the lobby, and pulled her against him. She was not encouraging, but at the same time, she wasn't trying to push him off her, either. He gently grabbed her head and pulled her lips to his. Pressing firmly, he felt the lips, dry and not warm, his tongue tried to pry open her lips, but she was not letting him. She felt him pressing against her, she could feel the rock-hard erection, and that put the brakes on it.
"No John, NO."
That broke through, he pulled his head away, and said, "Why not?"
"I'm engaged, I love my fiance very much, and he is the man I'm going to marry."
"If you love him so much, why isn't he here?"
"Donald's in London, working on a very important research project for his company. He couldn't just pack up and come to the wedding."
"So, come and spend the night with me, I got room 501, and we'll have a great time. Hey, you're not married yet, he'll never know."
"I will know, and I am not going to cheapen myself by giving in. You're nice and all, but see it my way."
"He's a man, how do you know he's not having a hot British lady taking care of his sexual needs until he can return and be the dutiful fiance?"
Her eyes widened slightly, she had indeed been wondering about that. Nothing to be suspicious about, no clues or anything like that. But she wondered, alone in her bed at night, masturbating herself, coaxing the waves of pleasure to wash over her, if her fiance was dipping his wick into some hot bodied London lass.
Putting that out of her mind, she replied, "I trust him, and he trusts me."
She stepped away from him, and said firmly, "Nothing is going to happen between you and me."
She headed back to the reception, leaving him with a set of aching blue balls. Damn, he thought she'd been angling for some action, but no dice. Feeling defeated, he headed back to the reception.
*****
At that moment, far, far away...
