Isabella gazed at her ring once more, utterly enchanted. The diamond was massive, far beyond what she could have dreamed of, even knowing she was marrying a wealthy man who loved to flaunt his fortune. The stone had a delicate pink hue, set in a thick, intricately crafted band of pure gold.
A smile curled on her lips. She was genuinely happy.
Her bridesmaids drifted around her lazily. There were three of them—Eva, Lina, and Marketa—friends she had known for ages. She had chosen these three in particular for a very good reason: they all openly envied her fiancé, Lucian.
Let them stew, those jealous cows.
Pierre, the wedding planner hired by Isabella’s fiancé, strutted into the room, and she could barely contain her disdain for him. He was a pompous fool, insisting on having her makeup touched up three times before he was satisfied.
“But I like it this way,” she attempted to argue. “Isn’t that the most important thing?”
He flashed a patronising smile and said, “That’s adorable that you think so,” before signalling to the makeup artist to make her lips bolder and redder.
Now that idiot Pierre was inspecting her makeup and hair for what felt like the hundredth time.
“Terrible,” he declared. “I can’t work with this material.”
Of course, he meant her.
Before she could respond, Pierre’s assistant entered the room, handing him a black flat bag before disappearing again. Pierre carefully unzipped it and pulled out the dazzling white masterpiece—Isabella’s wedding dress. Since she was a little girl, she had dreamed of this moment, choosing the perfect dress from thousands for her fairy-tale wedding, and this one looked almost exactly like the picture she had pinned to her wall throughout her teenage years.
As she tried on the dress, she fell in love with it. Her long, gently wavy blonde hair cascaded over her bare shoulder. The bodice was adorned with real blue diamonds that perfectly matched her eyes. The dress accentuated her already perfect figure, curvy with a big arse and ample natural boobs, and she knew she would be the most gorgeous bride.
Lucian was the best husband she could ever wish for. He would spoil her with everything her heart desired, and trust this, there was a lot on her wishlist. She was marrying like a princess, radiant, bedecked in jewels, and dazzlingly white.
She expected Pierre to turn away as she began to undress, and she even asked him to. But he ignored her, merely tilting his head slightly to glance out the window, as if what lay beyond was a thousand times more interesting. What more could she ask for?
Carefully, she slipped into the gorgeous dress. It was painfully expensive, and she wanted to be perfect. None of her bridesmaids pretended to help her, but what could she expect? Those envious bitches.
She struggled a bit with the zipper, but she anticipated that, knowing she had bought a size smaller and was prepared to squeeze into it. However, something was off with the front. It was impossible she hadn’t noticed during the fitting. But no matter what she did, her big, round, full tits bulged out, completely impossible to conceal beneath the fabric and diamonds.
“This is not my dress,” she finally said.
“Of course, this is your dress,” the impossible Frenchman snapped coldly. “But I had them altered at the groom’s request.”
“What? He saw my wedding dress before the ceremony? But that brings bad luck!”
Pierre smirked.
“I’d ask what Lucian sees in you, but I’m staring right at it.”
She crossed her arms over her chest, glanced at her amused bridesmaids, and snapped at that idiotic wedding planner.
“Call someone immediately and fix this dress. I can’t possibly have three hundred people staring at my rack on my wedding day. Not just my nipples; my breasts are completely bare as if I were the last hooker in the port.”
Pierre ignored her and began dictating something into the microphone hanging by his ear about bouquets. Then he checked his watch and said, “Ten minutes.” He signalled for the bridesmaids to take their places.
Isabella protested. Her arms were crossed over her chest, but her breasts were so large that her slender arms barely covered her nipples. She started pleading, begging. This was her dream fairy-tale wedding. And she was, after all, a princess. That was her dream.
“I see a bit of a problem,” Pierre said with an amused grin, “in that your fiancé is dreaming of the perfect wedding, too. Only his looks a bit different.”
One by one, the bridesmaids sashayed out the door, the strains of celebratory music wafting in behind them. The hall, once buzzing with the chatter of hundreds, fell eerily silent. Isabella was in sheer desperation. There was no way she could let her family, the guests, the journalists, and the millions of perverts online gawk at her bare breasts. Sunbathing topless on the beach was one thing, but for crying out loud, this was her wedding!
The music shifted, signalling the arrival of the bride. She tried pleading with Pierre again, begging him to fetch her a shawl to cover up, for fuck sake. He merely stood by the door, flinging it open to reveal her father, decked out in a suit worth more than his car. He’d seen her naked breasts on the internet during some scandal or another, but this was entirely different.
Isabella slumped down, struggling to breathe. The famous tune from Lohengrin was nearing its end.
“I suppose I’ll tell Lucian you’re calling off the wedding,” he declared, stepping out of the doorway. She shot her head up in shock, but he was already gone. She dashed out after him, but he was swift, and as she called after him, that ridiculous tune Here Comes the Bride played on, while she felt was more like a running bride.
“How dare you!” she snapped, finally catching up to the scoundrel. He grinned, shamelessly eyeing her exposed boobs, which were heaving from her exertion.
“Very well,” he said, waving her father over, who stood there wide-eyed, trying not to stare at his daughter’s naked boobs. Pierre dragged her father to her side, clamped down on her wrist—she’d definitely have a bruise tomorrow—and linked them together. A swift shove to the back sent them on their way.
The music had faded, and after a brief flurry of whispers—words like “slut” and “tits” floating about—mercifully the music began again, drowning out the harsh comments directed her way. She was forced into nudity, exposed at her groom’s demand, a chilling thought to let settle in.
Tears welled in her eyes, but she held her head high and marched on. She tried to avoid looking into faces, not wanting to see who was shocked, who was amused, and who was, those disgusting perverts!, aroused by her partial nudity. Instead, she focused on the grand decorations of the beautiful old castle, reminding herself that this wedding was meant to be perfect. If indulging her husband’s little fantasy was the price for that, so be it.
She didn’t even have the chance to cover her nakedness with the bridal bouquet as she walked beside her father to the altar. It was only now that she realised why, instead of a lush bunch of flowers, hers was a luxurious single rose, gilded and wrapped in real pearls.
When her father, clearly relieved that it was all over, handed her over to her groom, who was waiting at the altar, she braced herself for the priest’s objections. But they’d prepared him well. He was young, handsome, and his face was flushed as he struggled not to gawk at her breasts—bless him, it wasn’t going very well. Lucian pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, whispered that she looked fabulous, and she beamed back at him.
From that moment on, everything was going to be as perfect as she’d dreamed. They exchanged their wedding vows, and when she breathed out her “I do,” she barely registered her partial nudity anymore. She gazed into Lucian’s eyes, into his handsome face, knowing he was the man with whom she would enjoy the rest of her life.
And so the fairytale continued. They whisked away in a limousine to the swankiest hotel in the area, where a lavish feast awaited, along with the entertainment that followed. The place was decked out in whites and lilacs, with gold, pearls, and gemstones sparkling everywhere. By this time, she had relaxed and hardly noticed her bare breasts at all, especially with the way Lucian looked at her, full of desire. It was the promise of a glorious wedding night.
When they were seated at the table, the beautiful girls, all very busty, began to bring food to the table. They were of all races, white, black Asian, completely naked upper body, nipples adorned with pearls but so as not to cover them. Around their hips a tiny, sheer scarf in the color of lilac and underneath, as was very obvious, they were all naked. They were all natural and unshaven, as Lucian had demanded of her as well.
Isabella noticed that her family and friends weren’t in this room and after a moment of being upset that only Lucian’s loved ones were invited to the main hall when she saw the bachelorettes, she was actually glad. When a portion of a whole lobster was placed in front of everyone, the giant wedding cake that had been in the center of the hall until then was taken aside and the musicians came in. They were all very handsome young men, wearing white loose pants and bare chests.
They began to play, and although the bride expected the first dance to belong to her, a completely naked beauty rolled onto the dance floor this time. She was writhing, strutting, shaking. Showing off. She had a fuller figure, but gorgeous big natural breasts. Natural giant breasts seemed to be the theme of her wedding, she noted sourly.
While she munched on lobster and tried to ignore the naked stripper, it was impossible to miss the appearance of a dancer. A gorgeous guy, muscular, tanned, wearing only white pants and probably nothing underneath because he had a visible erection. He and the naked girl danced an even dirtier version of dirty dancing for a while, until he calmly took out his huge, hard cock and started fucking her standing up. While she continued to perform her dance creations.
This, of course, took Isabella by surprise. She wanted to object and turned to her newlywed husband and was shocked to find one of the half-naked waitresses kneeling at his feet, her husband’s penis in her mouth, sucking it very sensuously. Her eyes locked with his.
Looking around the hall, she realized that her husband wasn’t the only one getting head.
It was no longer a dream, it had become a nightmare.
Isabel tried to convince herself that there wasn’t much more going on than probably happened during the bachelors party anyway. Except now she’s there, her breasts at least partially hidden behind the table this time, and she has to watch. Then she froze. She felt a touch on her nipples and turned to her husband. He was winking at her sensuously while his penis was in the strange woman’s mouth. The woman held the root firmly with her red-painted hand, gently teasing it, managing to devour practically all of Lucian’s dick in her mouth.
Isabella’s original resolve to enjoy her own wedding soberly, to remember every tiny detail of it for the rest of her life, has taken its toll. She kicked the glass of champagne in front of her in one gulp. Then she looked up, and the girl was still sucking her husband’s cock, while he held her hair and gently tugged. So she picked up the glass of champagne that was in front of Lucian and drank that too in quick gulps.
Immediately she felt a little better. She’d have to wait it out somehow.
Both were endless. She’d never lasted this long giving someone a BJ, and all the while the dancer was flexing the naked dancer’s body as much as she needed and inserting his big cock wherever he felt like it. It was sensual too, and Isabella had to admit that it was starting to turn her on. Sex was omnipresent. She felt herself starting to get wet and involuntarily wiggled her hips, her arousal heightened by it.
By the time the dancer cummed on the girl’s face, the feast was obviously over. The girls who were giving blow jobs at the tables were quickly heading towards the finish line, and even the girl who was pleasuring Lucian brought him to a successful climax. Isabella watched in fascination as a total stranger swallowed her husband’s cum.
Suddenly Pierre appeared beside her and said it was time to throw the bouquet. She stood up while dipping her naked large breasts in the sauce. She couldn’t find a napkin anywhere so she simply took her breast in both hands and licked the sauce off her own nipple. At that point, it seemed perfectly normal to her.
Lucian stood beside her as she turned her back to the large crowd of inquisitive women. She grabbed the bouquet and threw it as high as she could, then turned and watched as it landed almost in the middle and three women fought over it.
She smiled at Lucian, who smiled back. The space left by the women in dresses of bright colors was now taken by men in suits. Isabella had already started to pull down her garter when her newlywed husband beat her to it. He lifted her white dress and pulled down her blue panties. She looked at him in surprise as he tossed her panties, still smelling of her pussy, between the men. They too fought over them, and here too the winner sniffed his prize with relish, as the woman had sniffed the flower earlier.
Then the people dispersed and cleared the stage.
“A dance for the newlyweds,” was heard everywhere, and Isabella turned excitedly to her chosen one. Her eyes shone. She was married to the most wonderful man. He smiled at her too. He gently took her hands and as the music began to play, she obediently waited for him to lead her.
But he had other plans.
He turned her around and folded her over, rolling up her skirt. Then he slapped her cunt, which was completely exposed in shock, to the cheering crowd. She thought the champagne must have gone to her head, surely this couldn’t be happening.
Not at her dream big wedding!
By then she could smell her husband inside her. Lucian entered her with his penis and came, but instead of the gentle lovemaking she was used to with him, he came roughly, the slapping of his underbelly against her hairy vagina nearly drowning out the music.
She wished her humiliation would end. She wished other couples would join in and no one would watch her husband fuck her wet cunt.
It took an awfully long time. Gradually he put her in different positions, at one point he took her dress off her because it was binding and there she was, completely naked, with only a white veil on her head. The only piece of cloth on her body was a single garter.
“Relax,” Lucian whispered to her as he sat her on top of him. Her large breasts swayed into his face and they all stood there watching them, erections in their pants. She closed her eyes and focused on her husband. She tried to take in the music and realize that this was her wedding night. This was the sealing of her marriage to her best man, and that turned her on.
She began to move faster, riding the full length of her rich, beautiful husband’s cock. He grabbed her cheeks and helped her rise and fall, both of them breathing fast.
She opened her eyes and saw her three bridesmaids. She saw the envy in their eyes and she smiled at them in delight. Excited. She leaned back and quickened her movements, her moans growing louder and more intense, and Lucian joined her. He, too, was nearing climax. So there, at her giant princess wedding, her husband fucked her in front of everyone, their marriage consummated by it.
She was left lying, weeping, tired. Lucian got up and had the sofa brought in. He gave her his hand and helped her up, and she was about to sit on the sofa he had prepared for her.
But he had other intentions.
He quickly turned her around, folding her over so that her breasts and belly were resting on the sofa, her ass and her naked, open cunt with his cum inside, offered towards the crowd.
She thought nothing could surprise her anymore.
This, however, shocked her.
“Money dance,” she heard Lucian say.
Before she realized what it meant, she felt the cologne of a complete stranger above her. And a moment later, she could feel his cock inside her. While a strange man was fucking her in the arse on her big, dream princess wedding night, she heard her lover, the man she had agreed to spend the rest of her life with, collecting money and men lining up.
She closed her eyes. She suppressed tears of humiliation. There was nothing she could do about it, so she decided to enjoy it.
She lifted her head and looked at Lucian, who was looking at her lovingly. She told him to bring her a bottle of champagne
“And a bottle of lube too,” she winked at her husband.
This was her life now. And she said, “I do”.
For a Little Something Blue—Your Support Keeps the Dreams Scandalously Sweet!
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