Jilted Bride

Aiden Ashley bursts into her bedroom still wearing her wedding dress, cheeks flushed with pure rage. Her best friend August Skye follows close behind. The idiot groom left her at the altar, and she’s fuming. The moment August offers to help rip the dress off and burn off that angry heat between the sheets, Aiden’s eyes flash. She nods. It sounds like exactly what her body’s begging for. August dives in with both hands, yanking the white silk straight down the middle, buttons popping, lace tearing open under those aggressive pulls. Each rip brings a dirty little smile to her face. Soon the gown pools at their feet and every inch of hot, angry skin is out in the open. They tangle without wasting any more time. August pushes Aiden onto the bed, climbs on top, and plants her thick thighs over Aiden’s face for a slippery, grunting sixty-nine. Aiden’s tongue is merciless; she grabs handfuls of soft ass, yanking August down until she can’t hold still. Breasts slap against lips next — August lowers her full tits to Aiden’s mouth while Aiden buries her face between them, sucking the nipples, biting just enough to make August gasp. Then Aiden slaps on the strap-on, grips the harness like she means it, and slams into her friend from behind. She jerks the white garter off her own thigh, loops it over August’s mouth, and pulls it back like reins, hips snapping hard against jiggling ass every time she drags it tighter. August whimpers around the makeshift bridle, ass tilted for deeper pounding, while Aiden rides her raw until the day’s fuck-up melts away under every brutal, delicious thrust.