The Cheating Bride

Its been some time since my last story was published here but nevertheless I am here with a new story. I hope you will enjoy this…

The Cheating Bride By Deepti

“We’ll be back!” my friend’s said as they scurried from the room. I could hear them giggling all the way down the stairs. They left on a mission to find a bottle of liquor.

It was thirty minutes before the big event. I was nervously pacing the floor in one of the two small rooms upstairs at the banquet hall. Soon I would be called downstairs and out into the lawn where my handsome groom waited for me. I would marry my fiancé – the love of my life.

I was alone, save for Sakshi, my younger sister who was in the room across the hall. She was having another “crisis” with her boyfriend. I could hear her shouting into her cell phone through the thin wall.

I peered out the window. There were over a hundred guests. Most of them had already been seated in chairs on the lawn. I could see the punditji and 4 handsome gentlemen in sherwani standing up at the front of the crowd. I couldn’t ask for a more beautiful day to get married.

My fiancé, Nikhil, was a successful business man. I had met him during my college eight years ago. He was a handsome man, if a little dull. Our love life too was unremarkable but he was kind, however and I loved him.

I stepped away from the window and looked at myself in the tall mirror again. I admired my beautiful lehenga choli. It was velvet maroon raw silk, with exquisite embroidery and hundreds of tiny golden sequins and trimmed with delicate lace. I pulled my dupatta down over my face and admired myself.

The front of the choli was cut low enough at the front to show off my ample cleavage with embroidery at the sleeves, it was open at the back, removing the option to wear a bra underneath and was cut just below my breasts and well above the navel leaving it open to exhibit, yet it remained tasteful enough to be worn on a wedding. It wasn’t easy to find a choli to fit a thin yet “top heavy” woman like myself and it took a lot of alterations to make it work. I think my favourite piece however was probably the golden net dupatta. I stood there adjusting the attire and pushing up my breasts when suddenly there was a knock at the door.

“Who is it?” I asked turning around.

The door opened and to my surprise in walked my ex-boyfriend, Omar. “My God,” he said with a smile, “Deepti, you look breath-taking!”

My heart began to beat faster. Omar was a last minute addition to the guest list. Our love-affair had been so powerful, I had decided not to invite him even though we were still friends. It was only at my fiancé’s insistence that we send him an invitation.

“Hi, Omar,” I replied uncomfortably. “You look quite handsome yourself in your sherwani.” I looked him up and down again. Just the sight of him was beginning to stir up feelings that I really didn’t need right now.

Omar closed the door. He crossed the floor and put his hands on my shoulders. “I couldn’t have imagined how beautiful you would look until I saw you just now.” Omar continued to run his eyes all over me.

“Omar, you’re sweet, but you can’t be in here,” I said, flipping the dupatta up and off my face.

“Nonsense!” Omar replied. “I have every right to see what I’m missing. Every man in the place will be watching you tonight. You’re going to break a lot of hearts!”

I could see right through Omar’s flattery. He was a smooth talker. Even so, I got a warm feeling as he spoke.

“You already know what you’re missing, Omar,” I said. I then said something I would immediately regret. I added “You’ve seen me naked like a hundred times, remember?”

How could I say that? Why would I open the door for him like that? I began to blush.

Omar smiled a crooked smile. “A thousand times,” he said, “but who’s counting.”

“OK, I’m officially embarrassed now!” I said with a smile. “But you should go.”

“Of course. But first let me give the bride a hug,” Omar said stretching his arms out. I paused for a moment, then gave a sigh and stepped into his arms. Omar wrapped his arms around me and held me tight. I rested my face against his shoulder. I would certainly miss our intimacy, but I knew in my heart I was making the right decision.

I lifted my head. We looked into each other’s eyes. My heart was pounding. Through the thick folds of material that made up my wedding dress I could feel Omar’s cock begin to inflate. Omar put his hand against my cheek. I stepped, breaking our embrace. I took his hands in mine.

“I’ll always have feelings for you, Omar,” I said, “but right now you have to leave. I can’t get caught talking with my ex-boyfriend before my wedding.”

“I understand,” he said. He looked me up and down again. “Before I go, do me one small favour.”

I shot him a dirty look but before I could say anything, he spoke.

“I’ve always wondered what a bride wears under her dress.”

His words hung in the air. My eyes grew wide. “Excuse me?” I exclaimed.

“Show me, Deepti, and I’ll leave. My curiosity will be satisfied,” he said. Omar always had his nerve. It almost surprised me that he wanted one last look at me.

“Are you crazy?” I said in a hushed tone. “My mother could walk in any second! Or my mother IN LAW!” I pointed my finger to the floor indicating that at any time, someone could climb the stairs and enter unannounced into the room. “Plus,” I added, “You’ve had your chance. It’s over between us.”

“Please Deepti,” Omar said, “Let me see what another man will be enjoying tonight.”

My breathing quickened. I pictured Omar on his knees sliding his hands up my legs. I imagined his hands reaching thigh. I imagined his hands sliding behind me and gently caressing my bare ass.

“Absolutely not!” I told him. But Omar didn’t move. He stood there smiling and pretended to pout. A moment passed. The room was silent. I listened for any footsteps on the old wooden stairs. I could still hear my sister of the phone in the room across the hall. I could feel my face getting red.

“Come on, Deepti,” Omar persisted, “for old time’s sake. Let me have one last look at those sexy legs.”

I told myself that it was alright. I told myself that he had already seen me naked in every conceivable sexual position, and that showing him my legs or even panties was not a big deal. I took a deep breath.

“Will you leave immediately after?” I asked. Omar nodded in agreement. “Sit,” I said, motioning to the only chair in the room. “You will NOT touch me.”

Omar wasted no time in sitting on the creaky wooden chair beside the desk. I tried to forget that in a few minutes I was about to be married to another man, and that what I was about to do was very wrong.

I walked up to him and stood there. I gave a heavy sigh as if to say that he was such a bother. I looked him in the eye. “This is the last time,” I said. Omar grinned. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” I said under my breath. Then, slowly I bent in half and took hold of the bottom of my lehenga. I gathered it up in folds and carefully stood up. Inch by inch I exposed my long mehendi-clad legs. I stopped at knees.

“There you go. So do you like my mehendi?” I asked Omar.

I could tell by the look on his face that he was trying very hard not to reach out and grab me.

“Very…. sexy,” Omar said. “More please.”

I rolled my eyes and paused for a moment. I slowly lifted my lehenga revealing my smooth thighs and stopping just below my panties.

I could hear Omar’s heavy breathing and I watched as his eyes took in the details of my soft skin.

I turned to look at the window to make extra certain I could not be seen by anyone on the ground. I paused again to listen for any steps on the creaky stairs. Then I looked back at Omar. I felt butterflies in my stomach. I should have dropped my lehenga at that point. Instead I pressed on.

“And this,” I said, pausing for dramatic effect, “is what a bride’s panties look like.”

I slowly pulled my lehenga up to my waist.

Omar’s mouth dropped open. “Wow,” he said.

I looked down at Omar’s sherwani. I recognised the big bulge I’d seen many times before. The sight of it made me feel woozy.

“I love how they’re sort of transparent,” he said. The panties I wore were mostly maroon sheer material with a solid maroon patch covering my cunt.

“Cute aren’t they?” I said looking down at them. I remained there holding my lehenga up letting Omar have a long look at my body from my belly to my toes. I was hoping he would also notice my new belly-ring.

“Let me see the back now,” Omar said.

“Oh I don’t think so,” I said laughing and dropping my lehenga.

“Why not?” Omar said in a disappointed tone.

“No.” I said firmly.

“How come?” he asked. Was he serious? How could he not understand my reluctance?

“Well first of all, Omar, I’m getting married in a few minutes….” I paused glancing at the clock on the wall, “thirty minutes. Secondly, there is no back to these panties to see.”

Omar raised his eyebrows and we both burst out laughing.

“Oh REALLY?” he said. “So you’re wearing a g-string tonight?” I shrugged and said nothing at first. Then I said, “It’s a thong at the back. It’s really small though.” I was grinning as I spoke. I loved the reaction on his face when I told him I was wearing a thong.

“Oh I see,” said Omar nodding his head and tapping his chin with his finger.

“No,” I said shaking my head, “you don’t see.” I wanted to show him so badly but I did not want to betray my soon-to-be husband.

“One little look. I won’t touch, I promise,” Omar said. A moment passed. I kept staring at the big cock pressing against Omar’s crotch.

I broke the silence with an exaggerated sigh. I turned my back to him and over my shoulder I said, “One peek.”

Omar seized the opportunity. He leaned over and grabbed the bottom of my lehenga. He stood pulling the lehenga up and pressed it against my waist holding it firm. I felt the cool air of the room on my bare bottom and a warm sensation up my neck and face.

“My God, Deepti, what an amazing ass you have,” Omar said, “so round and perfect.”

“You’re supposed to be looking at my thong,” I reminded him. I was so excited I felt my legs shaking. I loved having Omar look at my bare ass again. I could feel my nipples stiffening against my choli.

“I love how the maroon string disappears between you little ass cheeks,” he said. Suddenly I felt his warm hand on my bare ass. I let out a gasp. Omar squeezed me and gently patted my bare flesh. Part of me wanted to turn and slap him. Most of me wanted him to force me to the bed and finish what he started. I remained motionless for a full minute while Omar’s hand explored every inch of my ass. Slowly he moved his hand along my thighs to the front, inside the silky material of the thong between my legs. His hand continued its journey, his fingers brushing my soft skin. He wiggled the tips of his fingers, playing with my cunt. He pushed harder, pushing his fingers into my cunt.

“Omar that’s enough!” I hissed, pretending to be annoyed that he had broken his word.

I spun around to face him and Omar dropped the lehenga.

“There, now you have officially felt up the bride. I hope you’re happy,” I said in mock anger. I was dripping wet but I decided I had to put an end to this before things got out of control. “Come with me,” I said. I took him by the arm and led him to the door. My maroon high heels echoed in the small room with each step on the hardwood floor.

We stopped in front of the door. I put one hand on the knob. “Here’s what you’re going to do,” I told him, “You’re going to cross the hall to the other room. You remember my sister Sakshi, don’t you? Well Sakshi is in there having a fit with her boyfriend on the phone. You’re going to go hit on her, and believe me; she’ll have your cock in her mouth so fast you won’t know what hit you.”

Omar looked stunned as I opened the door. He paused and then let out a sigh.

“Out!” I commanded. Omar sighed. He shrugged and walked out the door. I closed the door behind him and took a deep breath. I slowly walked back to the mirror. My heart was pounding but I knew I had done the right thing.

I knew Omar well. I knew that once he had his cock sucked he would lose interest in me and I could focus on the wedding. I also knew my sister Sakshi very well. I knew she was a huge slut, and that given the opportunity she would spread her legs for him in a heartbeat.

I looked at myself in the mirror. I started to regret what I had let Omar do to me. I had let my ex-boyfriend feel up my bare ass on my wedding day.

“You’re an idiot,” I said to my reflection. My mind was racing. I thought of my soon-to-be husband, Nikhil and how trusting he was and what a good provider he was. Then I thought about Omar, and what a pounding he could deliver in bed. I remembered one of our last dates. Omar fucked me at one of his house party. He stripped me naked and fucked me on the bed where everyone’s coats had been stored. We were interrupted over and over by his friends walking into the bedroom to retrieve their coats but Omar never once stopped fucking me.

I closed my eyes and ran my hands over my small waist and then slid them up over my large breasts. I remembered back to a month ago when I was sucking Omar’s cock every night. I imagined the sound of his voice as he came in my mouth. I was soaking my panties.

“I want you so bad,” I whispered to myself. I felt my nipples pressing hard against my choli.

I looked again at the clock and then back at the mirror. I closed my eyes and slipped a hand down the front of my choli. I loved the sensation of the silk over my soft skin. I found my hard nipple and pulled gently on it. Suddenly I noticed Sakshi’s voice had gone silent. I expected Omar had worked his magic and was now getting his cock sucked by my sister. How I wished it was me on my knees right now, sucking Omar’s big circumcised cock.

Quietly I reached in front of my choli and unhooked about two hooks. I carefully relaxed the front of the choli pulling it out, as much as the soft material would allow. Then I reached down my choli with my right hand and slipped my left breast from it. Then I did the same with my right breast. The material on the choli made for a shelf, holding my oversized breasts up and pushing them together in an unnatural way. I looked again in the mirror. The light from the window made my bare breasts glow. My dark stiff nipples provided a contrast to my pale white skin.

“Do you like my big tits, Omar?” I said to my reflection gently shaking my chest from side to side. “Should I walk down the in front of everyone like this? Would you like that?” I dropped my hand to my crotch and pushed. God how I wished Omar was licking my wet cunt at that moment.

“Would you like to watch my big tits bounce with every step I take?” I said to the mirror. I reached up and clutched both breasts in my hands. I spread my fingers to I could see my hard nipples. “Maybe you’d like to fuck me one more time before I get married?” I loved how the word ‘fuck’ sounded. I repeated myself slowly, leaving emphasis on the word ‘fuck’.

“Maybe you’d like to FUCK me one more time before I get married?” I said to the mirror.

Suddenly a voice spoke behind me. “She wasn’t there,” the voice said. I jumped and spun around on my heels. I let out a cry and lost my footing. I slipped back and tumbled, my arms flailing to catch the desk to break my fall.

Omar leapt across the floor toward me. “Oh my God, Deepti!” he shouted.

I landed flat on my ass on the floor beside the desk. One breast had slipped back into my choli, the other still heaving over the top of my collar. I started to laugh.

“Are you ok?” Omar asked as he helped me to my feet.

“Ya,” I said still laughing. “Stupid high-heels!”

I brushed my lehenga off and adjusted my dupatta but made no effort to cover my exposed breast.

“I’m ok,” I said. I turned to face the mirror again. Omar stepped aside so I could see reflection. I reached into my choli and pulled out my other breast so both tits were completely exposed again.

The room went quiet. Omar’s eyes were locked on my bare tits.

“That’s not quite right,” he said. He reached down and unhooked the remaining hook. Omar went to work pulling the choli and making it sit flat against the sleeves. He gently adjusted my big tits so they hung more naturally.

“Better?” Omar said standing back. I looked at in the mirror. I picked up a flower bouquet and held it in front of me.

“Sexy,” I said.

I looked over at Omar. He had unfastened his chudidar and pulled his cock and balls out. “Oh my God,” I said staring at his thick shaft and tight ball sac.

Omar motioned to the chair with his hand. Without a word, I turned and sat down in the chair. From my position in front of the window I could see most of the guests on the back lawn. I could see the musicians were in place and starting to play. I turned back to Omar who had moved in front of me now. His cock was huge. It somehow looked bigger than I had remembered. I lifted my mehendi-clad hand and cupped his big ball sac. I lifted it and in doing so, pointed his hard shaft at my face. In the bright light from the window I could see every detail in his long veiny cock.

I let out a gentle sigh as I rolled his balls in the palm of my hand. “This…I will miss,” I said looking up at Omar.

Another moment passed. Neither of us spoke. I lifted my other hand and began to gently stroke Omar’s cock. “What does that feel like with my engagement ring on?” I asked him softly.

“Feels different, but nice,” he replied.

I continued to gently stroke his cock. I watched a drop of pre-come collect at the tip of his shaft.

“Are you wet?” Omar asked.

“Yes,” I replied without hesitation.

Another moment passed. I started to stroke Omar’s cock a little faster. I tried to imagine how many times I had jerked him off in the past. A hundred? How many times had I swallowed his cum?

“Deepti,” Omar said. I looked up at him. “Put that cock in your mouth,” he said softly.

My heart jumped. “I can’t,” I said, “Omar, I can’t cheat on my husband on my wedding day.”

Omar reached out and gently touched my cheek with his fingers. “Deepti,” Omar said again, “Put that big cock in your mouth and suck on it.” His words sent a chill up my spine.

“I want to Omar. God knows I want to but I can’t,” I told him.

I released his cock and cupped my breasts. I pulled gently on my nipples. I felt so comfortable playing with my tits in front of Omar.

“Sweetheart,” Omar said after a moment, “Suck that big cock.”

I looked up at him. A tear was forming in the corner of my eye. He took a half-step closer to me.

Taking his cock by the base Omar lifted it and tapped it against the side of my face. Then he started on my forehead and slowly traced the wide head of his cock down my nose, and pressed it gently on my lips.

“Open your pretty mouth and suck my cock,” he said softly.

I looked up at him. Tears were rolling down both cheeks now.

Then I opened my mouth and with only minutes left before my wedding, I slid Omar’s big cock inside my mouth and began sucking.

Omar gasped. “God that feels good,” he moaned. His cock fit perfectly into my mouth. I continued to stroke him with one hand as I slid his cock in and out of my mouth. With my other hand I played with his heavy balls.

“Get on your knees when you suck cock, you little slut,” Omar whispered. Without missing a beat I slid off the chair onto my knees. That’s when I really started to suck him hard and fast.

Omar groaned. “You are so… fucking… good at that,” Omar said quietly. I popped his cock out of my mouth to look up at him, all the while maintaining a rhythmic stroking with my hand.

“Am I the best cock-sucker you’ve ever had?” I asked him breathlessly.

“Yes, you are the absolute best little cock-sucker in the world,” he replied. My dupatta slipped down over my face and Omar grabbed it and pulled it back again. “Did you miss sucking me off?” he asked

I nodded enthusiastically. “I missed your taste, and how your hard cock fills my mouth completely,” I told him. I pushed his wet cock back into my mouth and let it slide into my throat.

Do you still think of my when you masturbate?” Omar asked.

“Mm-hmm,” I replied.

“Do you still use that big pink dildo when you fuck yourself?” he asked. I could feel Omar was breathing much harder now.

“Mm-hmm,” I replied.

I felt spit collecting at the side of my mouth and it was dripping down my chin. I continued to work his cock in and out of my mouth.

“Does your husband like your blowjobs?” Omar asked.

I froze in place. The realization of what I was doing came crashing down on me. Here I was in on my knees, tits-out, sucking my ex-boyfriend’s cock.

I paused for a moment, and then resumed sucking Omar’s cock. I decided to let the feeling of cheating add to my excitement.

“Mm-hmm,” I answered.

“Ya? I bet he loves your perfect blowjobs.”

“Is his cock as big as mine?” Omar asked.

“Nnn-nnn.” I replied shaking my head ‘no’.

“Ya, I guess not,” Omar said, “You do love a big cock. Do you think of me when he fucks you?”

I only paused for a moment before I answered.

“Mm-hmm,” I replied. I could tell Omar loved that answer. He let out a low groan and I squeezed his balls gently.

“GOD that feels SO good!” Omar said through clenched teeth. “I’m gonna come in your mouth, understand? And you’re going to swallow every drop.”

Before I could answer the door burst open. There stood Sakshi.

“Oh… my… GOD!” she shouted. I whipped my head around to see her, Omar’s fat cock still twitching in my hand.

“Deepti, what the FUCK?!” she shouted.

“Quiet!” I hissed! “Close the door and come here.”

I jumped to my feet and pulling Omar by the cock I dragged him to the small bed. Sakshi closed the door and took a few steps towards us.

“You need to stand guard,” I explained. As I spoke I hiked my lehenga up and grabbing my maroon panties pulled them down to my ankles.

“Jesus, you… you’re going to fuck him right now?” Sakshi said in disbelief.

I climbed on the bed on all fours and flipped my lehenga up off my bare ass. Omar wasted no time. It was as if Sakshi wasn’t standing there at all. He parked himself behind me, lined up his stiff cock with my wet opening and with a single push, drove his wide cock into my slick cunt as far as it would go.

“God, YES,” I moaned, “Fuck me! Fuck me one last time!”

“Do NOT fuck her, Omar! I’m warning you!” Sakshi cried. But Omar ignored her. He screwed me slowly at first, then built up to a steady rhythm.

“You love this don’t you?” Omar grunted, “You love my big cock inside you, don’t you – you dirty little slut.”

“YES!” I blurted out, “God, Omar, don’t stop! Make it hurt…”

I could hear Sakshi let out an exasperated sigh. “We don’t have time for this!” she said looking at her watch.

Omar released my shoulders and grabbed my bare hips. He switched into “jackrabbit” mode, doubling his speed and filling the small room with the wet sounds of slapping flesh.

I could see Sakshi dash over to the window and look out. She shook her head. “Fuck,” I heard her say. She looked over at me. Omar was in high gear, fucking me hard and fast. He held my hips tight. I heard him let out a little gasp with each stab of his thick cock. I could feel beads of sweat rolling down my face. I hoped my makeup wasn’t running too badly.

Sakshi grabbed a tube of lipstick off the desk and ran over to me. She whipped my dupatta off my face and dropped to her kneed beside the bed. Omar stopped pumping for a moment as Sakshi quickly re-applied lipstick to my lips. Lipstick that I had left smudged on Omar’s big cock. The moment she was finished Omar resumed pounding me.

“God, that feels so GOOD,” I moaned. My voice bounced as I took each of Omar’s thrusts. My big hanging tits bounced in every direction.

“You stupid slut,” Sakshi said, “You’re going to get caught.” I looked up. She was standing beside the bed with her arms folded, shaking her head.

Suddenly I felt Sakshi’s hands on my bare breasts. She was pulling my choli up and sliding each of my wobbling tits back into my choli. I felt a zing of pleasure as her hands pressed against my engorged nipples. When she was finished I felt her pulling up my hooks.

“I’m coming… Where do you want it?” Omar grunted.

“NOT ON THE DRESS!” Sakshi and I cried at once.

“Just dump it in her cunt you fucking idiot! We’re late!” Sakshi exclaimed.

Omar’s body went stiff and I heard him groan. I felt his big cock pulse over and over inside me. I pushed my bare ass back against him and squeezed my cunt tight. I could feel his tight ball sac pressing hard against my clit. Omar pumped me three more times quickly. Finally I felt him relax. He loosened his grip on my hips.

“Ok, show’s over!” Sakshi said. As Omar’s cock slipped from my cunt, I felt Sakshi grabbing my hand. She pulled me off the bed. My legs were still shaking as I tried to stand. I felt her pulling my lehenga back down over my bare ass.

Sakshi ushered me to the door. She turned to face me and spend another few seconds looking me over. She adjusted my dupatta, and tugged my lehenga this way and that.

“You smell like a goddamned whore,” she muttered. She opened the door and we flew downstairs. Two minutes later I found myself outside on the lawn marching slowly down the aisle. A hundred people were standing, watching me. As I slowly walked I could fell Omar’s warm come running out of my bare cunt and down my legs. I hoped no one would notice. I prayed I wasn’t leaving a trail.

I met my fiancé at the stage. He was beaming. “You look beautiful,” he said.

As the punditji began to speak, I looked out of the corner of my eye and saw Omar sitting in the crowd. He was smiling and wiping away his face…with my panties.

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2 Comments

  1. What a great story!!!

  2. nice! interesting true story next part plz

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