And The Bride Wore White

Dad was already waiting with Skye in the front parlour. He tried to get in to see her and apologise but she wouldn't talk to him and Catherine hounded him out to the first of the cars with the bridesmaids before he could begin to protest.

"Don't make this any more of a scene than it already is," she warned him with narrow eyes as the girls watched the exchange avariciously.

Cousin Sharon was already in the car with the little ones and Amy, who was already bonding with Sharon's daughter Katie. Bells and Gemma hovered by the rear door in their long, lilac metallic frocks, eager for some aggro.

"What do you mean by that?" he half-turned, an incredulous sneer curling his lip.

"You know damned well," Jack's older sister snapped at him. "Bad enough that she's going to show up at the church looking like a harlot, without you making a scene about it."

Rayne slapped her hard. It was done before he even thought about it. Her right cheek flared scarlet where he had hit her. He heard the two older girls suck in little hisses of astounded admiration just behind him, then Catherine slapped him back with interest.

"Get In The Car!" she growled.

Bells and Gemma scurried to obey. Rayne stumbled back from her but his eyes were blazing as he put out a hand to steady himself.

"You evil old bitch! You think she got herself pregnant, do you? She pinned your defenceless little brother to the bed and raped him, did she?" He could feel the fury rising like a fire inside him. Jack's family had been patronising them since they got here and now they were going to get a few home truths, whether they liked it or not. "Believe me, darlin'... if I could talk her out of this I would. Why should she get shackled to a boring, pompous, shrimp-dick like your precious brother, just because he was stupid enough to get her knocked up in the first place? You are jealous because she is a gorgeous, vivacious, stunningly hot young woman and you are just a shrivelled, miserable old shrew with a mouth like a pensioner's arsehole!"

He only realised that he was shouting when Sharon caught hold of him and pulled him away, pressing her hand gently but firmly to his mouth and murmuring; "That's enough, Ray. Just let it go. You'll only make it worse."

"She's a bitch," he protested, feeling as helpless as a child again.

"Yeah," Sharon nodded. "But she's gonna be Skye's sister in law, for better or worse. Do you really want to make it worse?"

"Shit!" he exhaled, letting some of the fight seep out of him as Sharon steered him firmly into the long, white car. "She asked for it though. She just about called Skye a whore."

"Yeah, I heard her," his cousin whispered, putting her arm around him. "She'll pay for that one, Ray. Just... don't fuck Skye's day up any more, okay? Let's just get to the church."

He glanced at her dejectedly and heaved a little sigh but nodded his head. "Okay."

THE BRIDE WORE WHITE:

The sky was turning black over the country church on the outskirts of Dorchester as they pulled onto the long, shingle drive. Rayne took it as an omen and was correspondingly gloomy as he scrambled out of the car with the bridesmaids. Sharon and Catherine were sneaking dirty looks at one another but there were other relatives to attend to and they quickly split off into their separate camps and vanished into the church. Rayne hovered in the doorway, unwilling to follow them after the events of this morning. Just as he was contemplating another cigarette, a small, cold hand touched his cheek, turning his head.

Arabella stood on tiptoe and kissed him quickly and hungrily on the mouth. As she let him go and made as if to flee back inside, he caught her hand.

"What was that for?"

Bells grinned at him fiercely.

"That was for standing up to my bitch of a sister back there. She's had a bug in her arse about this wedding since day one. For the record, I think Skye's totally cool! She's really pretty as well. Jack's lucky to have her."

She pulled at his hand but he did not let her go right away. Instead he moved her back against the wall within the porch, bending his head and touching his mouth to hers more tenderly. His hands released hers now and moved to cup her breasts as he kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him against her for a few brief, frantic moments, then pushed him away as they heard the crunch of tyres on the shingle.

"Car's coming!" she huffed into his mouth, scuttling off to wait on the step for the bride to arrive.

Rayne watched her for a moment with a little smile on his lips, glad of the loose fit of his suit pants. He was furiously horny again and slunk into the church as the car pulled up, not wanting to see Skye whilst he was feeling like this.

The family was well represented in church. His Nanna Wilde had come down from Lancashire with Uncle Joe and Dad's other brothers were all here with their wives and a decent sprinkling of their kids and grandkids as well. His uncle Terry's wife Shirley waved her hand at him and he wriggled along their pew to sit with them. Shirl, a vivacious, peroxide blonde Londoner, was Terry's second wife but after his Mum had died she was like a surrogate mother to Rayne. Colin, her eldest son from her first marriage was virtually the same age as Rayne and they got on famously. Col was here today with his glamorous Brazilian girlfriend Carmel and their three-month-old son, Raphael. His younger brother Stewie was here as well with his girlfriend Lisa.

A couple of pews in front, Nanna May Monksford sat straight as a ramrod with Grandpa Raymonde. Rayne was astonished to see them here. His Mum's mother had not spoken to the family since Brian's court case. She took Aunt Iris's side and the Wilde clan virtually excommunicated her for it. Skye must have invited her though. It was like Skye Ann; she had always been fond of her Nanna May as a child. Rayne found the old woman a bit too stiff and proper. Like his Mum, he preferred to be a little bit wild and eccentric. Nanna May could never get her head around that. She thought they were being deliberately wilful to upset her most of the time. She had convinced herself that Rayne had lied about Brian raping him and blamed him single-handedly for the subsequent events. Nor did she approve of Jimmy, who had never been good enough for her little girl. Rayne would not forgive her for that, not even for Skye's sake.

Shirl must have seen his hackles rise for she prodded Rayne gently in the side to pull his cold, unblinking gaze from the back of his maternal grandmother's head.

"Leave it," she whispered. "The old cow'll be dead soon!"

He laughed quietly at that in spite of his emotions. Shirley always knew how to bring him back down to earth. Before too long he and Colin were whispering and joking together like they had never been apart. He had not seen Col for about two years but it was as if they had not been parted. And then the organist stopped playing swirling background music and piped up the dreaded intro to Here Comes The Bride. Rayne felt his stomach turn over and closed his eyes, praying that he would not be sick now. He could not watch her walk down the aisle though he almost felt her looking for him as she came by. Col put a hand on his arm and whispered; "Christ, I didn't know she was that far gone!"

He forced himself to look up, to be strong for her. Jack was standing at the head of the aisle, before the altar with his best man, Nigel. Rayne had been introduced to Jack's friends the other night and thought most of them were idiots, but Nigel was a prize-winning idiot; an original chinless wonder without a single coherent thought in his head beyond the stock market and finding a wife. Since he had got himself so drunk last night that he even tried to chat Rayne up at one point, the latter goal seemed a fairly elusive one. Jack at least was a decent looking bloke; nothing to write home about but he was neither ugly, nor weedy and he did at least have a chin! Hopefully, Skye's baby would take after its mother, he thought uncharitably.

Dad was looking proudly at his daughter as he walked her to the altar and in that moment Skye looked as radiant as he had ever seen her. A little patch of sunlight forced its way through the clouds and lanced down through the diamond panes of glass in the high, arched windows, illuminating her shimmering, white veil and the little gems and pearls on her dress. Rayne ached to hold her and apologise for upsetting her this morning. His ears tuned out the drone of the vicar as the service got under way. When they said their 'I do's he felt so dizzy that he thought he would pass out but by digging his nails into the palms of his hands he kept himself from causing further embarrassment.

Bells kept glancing back at him with a little smile on her face, rocking back and forth on her low heels. The older girls wore simple full-length sheath dresses that hugged their figures seductively and he found himself watching the curve of her hips and her bottom. Little blonde Gemma was transformed from a duckling into a swan by her gown. Her fair hair had been scooped up like Skye's and pinned so that it fell in little silver tresses and she was made up beautifully. Someone had tucked and hooked her into some decent underwear and her full breasts were gloriously plump and high beneath her clinging dress. Bells' hair was like a little golden halo and her leaner body was that of a saucy nymph. He already knew from the quick furtive grope in the portico that she was still braless under the gown and looked forward to peeling off her shiny wrapper later on and discovering whether her stiff nipples were pink and virginal and the fuzz of down on her pubic mound was as soft and golden as the stuff on her head.

His cock pressed against the crotch of his pants, demanding attention and as soon as the final hymns were sung, he wriggled out of the restrictive warmth of the little church and escaped into the graveyard to inhale some nicotine. A short walk took him down behind the church and he discovered a family grave down there with a commemorative stone laid out flat on six short, solid pillars like a table. Rayne perched on the lip of it, then lay down like a corpse, stretched out on his back. He sucked the smoke down into his lungs and stared up into the cool shadows of the yew trees, letting his left hand slide furtively into his trouser pocket.

He had discovered on purchasing the suit that there were no linings left in the pockets of his pants, although this was of little concern to him at the time. It was a positive godsend now as it meant he could take a firm hold of his throbbing cock without having to unzip his fly. With a little moan of relief he enjoyed a discreet wank whilst he finished his cigarette, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. So it was that he did not even know he had an audience until a quiet, light tenor voice remarked; "You look like you could use another hand there."

Rayne started violently, his hand flying from his pocket as he pushed himself into a sitting position, panting rapidly. The young curate who had welcomed them all into the church was looking down on him now with a mischievous smile. He had light, red-brown curls and golden hazel eyes in a boyish face that could have been any age between eighteen and thirty. He moved closer now, glancing over his shoulder before he came to sit next to Rayne.

"It's all right. I won't tell anyone," he said in that same soft, even voice. "Carry on. I want to watch you. Take it out. I'll watch out for anyone coming."

Rayne stared at him in disbelief. The curate grinned back at him.

"Are you shy? You shouldn't be. You're gorgeous." He stroked Rayne's leg encouragingly. "Come on. Quickly, get it out before they come outside for the photographs."

"Should you be doing stuff like this?" Rayne asked him warily, unzipping his pants and lying back, never taking his eyes off the young curate. His need for relief was overcoming his surprise now. He saw the other man sigh with pleasure as he pulled his erect cock out of his pants and tugged on it vigorously.

"Probably not," the other man said with a shrug. "You looked so delicious though, I couldn't resist following you. And when you started tossing yourself off..." He pulled up his loose robe and flashed his hard prick which was hanging out of his open jeans fly underneath. "Well I had to have a stroke! Can I have a pull on your ciggie?"

Rayne grinned helplessly. There was something so desperate, yet comical about the curate that he could not resist it. He passed the young man his half smoked fag and reached into his robe, stroking his cock for him as he sucked on the filter.

"Oohh... that's better!" the young man exhaled, sounding massively relieved. "Are you related to the lovely bride? You look like her."

"She's my sister," Rayne told him, rubbing the curate's spongy cock head steadily between his thumb and fingers, eliciting little whimpers of pleasure from his lips.

"You're both very easy on the eye," the other man huffed excitedly, gripping Rayne's dick and pumping it quickly. "How old are you?"

"I'm... I'm nineteen, she's twenty one," he gasped as the curate began to masturbate him skilfully. "Uhhh... god that's good!"

"Tell me when you're ready to come," his companion panted. "Have you ever had sex with a man?"

"Uhh-huh." Rayne nodded, then wriggled urgently. It felt so good letting someone else wank him.

"Did you like it?" The hand on his dick moved faster and harder.

Another nod was the answer. The curate sighed with pleasure, lying back on the stone beside him.

"Do you give head?" he asked huskily.

"Mmmhh... yeah!" Rayne nodded quickly. "Do you want some?"

The warm hand in his rumpled hair was answer enough. Rayne leaned over the other man and wrapped his hot wet mouth around the curate's stiff seven inch rod. The hand on his knob pumped harder and the other man towed Rayne's leaking head to his lips as they squirmed around to lie head to tail on the gravestone. The curate's clever tongue began to stroke his cock shaft as Rayne opened wider for him, sucking and swallowing his precum, enjoying the man's hand working his shaved balls against his body. He was so horny that he squirted into the curate's mouth straight away. Moments later his lips and tongue coaxed an answering gush of spunk from his mate's erect prick.

The fellow was on his feet almost immediately, zipping himself up and wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Rayne tucked himself in, panting excitedly as the fellow bent and planted a quick kiss on his lips.

"That was wonderful," he breathed. "Are you staying locally?"

"My brother in law lives up in Sandlingford," Rayne said. "I guess we're going back to Kent after the reception."

"That's a shame," his companion said with the same mischievous bemusement as before. "Nothing doing in this miserable place. You're such a stunning, randy little thing. I'd love the chance to strip and bed you properly before you go home."

Rayne stared at him with wide eyes. He was saved from having to respond to this remark by the sudden appearance of his Nanna Monksford, strutting down the path from the chancel like a broody hen. She looked suspiciously at the pair of them when she spotted them, then crooked her finger imperiously.

"Raymonde... photographs!" she called, turning and stalking back up to the church.

"Gotta go," he said apologetically, pushing himself to his feet.

"Ah well," his horny new friend sighed, patting him appreciatively on the bum. "Many thanks for an excellent blow job. I hope you enjoy the reception."

***

Skye leaned close to him for one of the photographs of the pair of them beneath the lych gate of the church and whispered softly to her baby brother; "You've got cum on your shirt collar! Can't you keep it in your pants for half a day?"

He wanted to tell her about the curate. He was sure it would make her laugh, but then she was swept away for another session of pictures and he was left to dab speculatively at his shirt in the hope of concealing the evidence.

A VERY WARM RECEPTION:

The reception was held at some vast country house hotel in the middle of nowhere. The meal and the speeches were endless and he was out of his mind with boredom by the time the band struck up and people started dancing. Bells snared him for a dance once the bride and groom had taken to the floor and enjoyed their first, rather awkward waltz together. Her hot little hands were all over him and Rayne could barely keep his own clutches decent. She had swapped the silver gown for something much less modest that was barely more than a white slip with spaghetti straps.

"Are you wearing knickers?" he whispered as they curled around one another.

"Why don't you find out?" Bells giggled. She was already quite drunk.

He slid his hands down to her thighs and back up slowly under the short, filmy skirt. He had to go a long way up over her slim hips until his searching fingers found the straps of her tiny white thong. Jack was glaring at him as the dance came to an end. Rayne blew him an insolent kiss.

Jack was very cautious of his new wife's condition and handled her like priceless porcelain for the entire evening. By eight o clock Rayne could almost feel the heat of Skye's temper. He pulled her to him after Dad had claimed a dance with her, and she leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder, turned half to the side. Rayne stroked her tummy fondly and they circled the room together in a quiet embrace.

"I'm sorry about this morning," he whispered to her and she sighed;

"It doesn't matter."

"I didn't mean to bring you bad luck."

"Don't worry about it," Skye murmured. "Right now I just want to get today over with. I'm so tired... and so horny."

He smiled wickedly.

"You should go upstairs and lie down for a while. I'm sure Jack won't object."

"Are you coming with me?" she asked, looking up with huge, puppy dog eyes.

"Try to stop me," he murmured, gently stroking her left breast.

She nuzzled his collarbone tenderly.

"She's only fifteen you know?" she breathed.

"Who is?" Rayne put his arms around her, swaying her gently from side to side.

"Arabella. She's still a virgin," Skye looked up at him seriously. "Though she'd like it to be otherwise, I'm sure."

"Tell me about it," Rayne laughed easily. "She's been trying to jump my bones all day."

"Don't let her," Skye warned quietly. "Catherine's watching you. I heard about what happened earlier on, Ray. If she catches you with your cock out anywhere near Bella she'll call the police like a shot. And Jack'll take a rifle to you if they let you go."

Her little brother managed a cynical smile.

"You sure you're not just jealous?" he teased quietly.

"I'm serious, Ray. I don't want you to get hurt. She's a little cock teaser. Wait until she's sixteen, at least. They can't have you charged with anything then!" Skye drew away from him as the music came to a stop. "Come on. Take me upstairs."

***

They did not bother to turn on the lights. The gardens outside the hotel window were floodlit and cast the room in silver and deep black shadows. Rayne locked the door and Skye hitched up her skirt, kicked off her strappy mules and eased her knickers down, letting them fall to the floor. She shrugged off the shoulder straps of her flimsy dress and walked to the bed with her bare breasts gilded by the light. Rayne toed off his boots and unzipped his pants, letting them cascade to the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt, tugged his silver tie loose and pulled them both off over his head, running his hands through his tangled black hair. His erect cock was standing up at a 90% angle to his slim, naked body. Skye knelt down in front of him and cupped his hairless balls in her hand, taking the head of his long cock in her mouth and caressing it with her tongue. Her fingers worked his nuts steadily and Rayne moaned and began to thrust slowly in and out of his sister's mouth. She took him deeper and deeper, not even gagging as his cock head reached the back of her throat and entered her pharynx.