Thread: The Hungry Bride (DaddyisHere and Sensualist) - CLOSED

Derek stood at the altar next to his best friend, Brad Prescott, and pondered the craziness of the past few days The bachelor party, the strippers who Derek had been against, the drinking, the rehearsal dinner, the flirting with the maid of honor. Well, the fending off of the maid of honor. And, here they were watching as Tamara was walked down the aisle by her father. She looked like a bride out of a fashion magazine, but better, and Derek felt just a slight twinge of envy as she approached. The eyes that she looked at Brad did not hold the innocent gaze that he expected after hearing Brad's tales at the Bachelor's Party. They still hadn't had sex, and Tamara was a virgin. However, Brad knew the ways of the world enough to know that the look on her face was far from virginal. it was hungry, lustful... almost predatory. Lucky, lucky , man , thought Derek to himself. Derek had three big jobs for the day. One, the rings, which he remembered. Two, the speech, which he nailed. One didn't get to be a venture capitalist by being a wallflower and he was happy that the crowd ate out of the palm of his hand. Three, keep Brad sober. He did not do so good at three. There were two Brads. There was Brad before three drinks. Fun, insightful, and a great, great guy. Then there was Brad after three drinks. After that, he turned into Frat-Bro Brad, who could be fun, but could also be off the rails and unpredictable, as had been evidenced at the Bachelor Party. Unfortunately, and with Derek's toast, no less, Brad had reached his fourth drink... which had proceeded to his fifth-through-12th drinks, at least. The good news was, that Brad did not embarrass Tamara or himself, or their families, the bad news was, by the time of the last dance for the Bride and Groom, he was weaving like the proverbial drunken sailor, and Brad was actually apretty good sailor. He hurried out to the dance floor during the applause after the song to slip a strong arm through Brad's to prop him up as best he could without making it seem conspicuous. As soon as they left the dance floor and got to the hallway, he slipped Brad's arm around his shoulder. Helluva wedding, said Brad. Fuckingawesomewedding! Derek shot an apologetic look to Tamara as Brad almost fell. Okay, screw this, said Derek. He cast about and was grateful to see a luggage cart, the flat kind with the brass frame where you can hang garment bags. Hop on, cowboy, said Derek, lowering Brad down to sit on the cart, legs splayed apart. I'm married, Derek, said Brad, sloshing his words. I got married to Tamara, oh, high Tamara! Yep, you're married, buddy, said Derek. Gonna have sex, said Brad. We waited. Tamara and I waited for tonight. I know buddy, said Derek. They reached the room and Derek slid the room card out the pocket in Brad's tuxedo. They rolled into the room and Brad looked up at him. Derek, he said. Shh... don't tell Tamara about the two strippers I fucked at the Bachelor party. She'd be mad. Derek gave a panicked look to Tamara. Tamara, he's drunk and... Gotta hurl! said Brad. Fuck! cursed Derek. He grabbed Brad's arms and dragged him quickly to the toilet in the bathroom and propped him up over it as the puke began to flow.