Hello, and welcome to this week’s #flashfiction story! The picture prompt and guidelines are over at Jaye’s site.
Waiting for the wedding night. It sounded so good and wholesome when I first came up with the idea when I was eleven, and sadly it wasn’t because of remaining good and wholesome that made me stick by my promise. It was from sheer stubbornness.
Ian was bound and determined to get in my pants before the wedding, but I held fast. We skirted about as possible to the line as we could, though… fondling under the stars, making out on the porch swing, groping on the veranda.
You could say we were outdoorsy people.
Well, the big day came and I was about as ready to get laid as I’d ever been. And Ian? I could see it in his eyes…desire, undying devotion…okay, okay. Pure, unadulterated lust. The man wanted me.
We did the whole photo thing in record time with Ian smiling woodenly. “Good, good, perfect, move along now, there’s a chocolate fondue thing,” he said to the flower girls, shooing them off in the right direction.
We were married in a friend’s huge field, and Ian assured me if we moved quickly enough no one would ever guess we’d gone.
“Can’t you wait until we get home?”
“Get to the barn,” he ordered, pulling me along with him. “Damn, the door’s locked. Probably didn’t want some little kids wandering in or something. Oh! Look! There’s a window! Can you fit with that huge train of yours?” The window was low, but not very wide.
He spun me around the other side like a man possessed, and measured my waist with his hands. “Yep. Yep, that’ll do.”
“You’re crazy!” I said, laughing and screaming as he heaved himself up to the window and tumbled in first, grabbing my hand and pulling me in next. But I stuck fast, my train jammed into the window.
“Take it off!” he hissed. His eyes looked sort of wild and crazed at this point.
“Right here?” I said.
“Do it or I’ll smack your ass!”
I grinned. “So how’s this gonna work? I’m jammed into a window in my wedding dress and if I don’t strip to my unmentionables you’re going to spank me, but you can you even reach my ass?”
This was a mistake, taunting the Lunatic Groom.
With one swift tug I ended up through the window, train and all, which he deftly stripped off me, shoved into the window thankfully giving us a modicum of privacy, smacked my ass, and in no time, he had me sprawled on my back with my feet up in the air, garters and all, screaming and gasping.
And we almost would’ve gotten away with it, if my bridesmaid hadn’t stopped us with a puzzled expression on her face just before we cut the cake and said what has now become code for creazy barn sex between me and Ian.
“Is that hay in your hair?”
Not bad for outdoorsy people.
Did you like this story? You can find the other flash fiction stories here.