Runaway Bride's Regret

Khloe Kapri burst through her front door still clutching her veil. Her maid of honor, Megan Mistakes, kicked it shut behind them and tossed her bouquet on the counter. Guilt burned across Khloe’s cheeks; she had left her fiancé standing beneath the arch with three hundred guests watching. Megan just smiled, took her shaking hands, and said the wedding was already a mistake—they both knew it. Shame twisted inside Khloe, but heat pooled between her thighs too; all morning she had pictured their wedding night. Megan saw the restless squeeze of those thighs, the quick dart of her tongue across parted lips. Inspiration flashed in her eyes. She stepped close, brushed a thumb over the silk at Khloe’s hip, and offered something better than guilt. Khloe’s breath caught, then she nodded. Her fingers fumbled with the back of her dress, letting it fall in a whisper of satin. Megan guided her onto the bed, lips meeting skin, hands sliding low. Khloe moaned, the weight of the day vanishing with every wet stroke of Megan’s tongue over her bare, eager cunt.