Jilted Bride

Aiden bursts into the bedroom still wearing the wedding dress that never got its day. August follows, hands already reaching for the lace. Fabric splits fast under her grip. Rough pulls, soft sighs. They tumble onto the sheets, bodies bare and breathing hard. August spreads over Aiden’s face, grinding slow, then faster. Aiden answers by smothering August’s small pierced nipples with her own fuller tits. Heat builds. Aiden straps in, lines up, and drives the silicone deep. The white garter wraps August’s throat like a makeshift rein. Leather snaps against skin, hips slam forward, and every thrust knocks the old anger farther away. The dress lies in ruins on the floor. So does the day they’re leaving behind.