Holy Matri-Moly!: Free-Use Brides

Lana Violet walks in carrying two garment bags. Gia DiBella and Ryder Rey unzip them with quick fingers. Silk and lace slide over bare skin. Gia’s tits push against the low neckline, silver hoops already glinting through the sheer cups. Ryder’s nipples stiffen the moment she sees them. The two brides turn to each other and something snaps. Hands slide under lace, mouths meet, tongues taste. They drop to the carpet without ceremony, dress hems hiked to their waists. Gia spreads Ryder open and sinks two fingers deep; the wet sound is loud in the quiet room. Ryder answers by pulling Gia’s panties aside and rubbing her clit in tight circles, thumb flicking the little barbell pierced through the hood. Neither bride waits. They grind against each other, hips snapping, breath sharp. Lana keeps working. She checks the veil length, straightens a train, makes notes on her clipboard. Cum glistens on Gia’s fingers; she licks them clean and goes back in. Ryder bites her own lip, cums with a choked gasp, then flips Gia onto her back and returns the favor, tongue sliding over pierced nipples before dropping lower. Lana lifts the second veil, holds it to the light, never looking away from her checklist. The brides fuck through every measurement, every pin, every quiet suggestion about the seating chart, lost in each other while the planner stays perfectly calm.