Saying their goodbyes

The reception had started to thin, laughter mellowing into murmurs as the last songs played and servers cleared the tables. Emily sat beside Jason at their table, legs crossed tightly, sipping water now—careful, quiet, polished. Her dress clung slightly damp between her thighs, her body still buzzing in the aftermath of everything.

Jason leaned over and smiled. “You ready?”

She nodded, lips tight. “Let’s go.”

They made their rounds, polite smiles, brief thank-yous, handshakes with senior staff and their equally bored spouses. Jason kept the conversation light. Emily clutched her clutch a little too tightly and tried not to think about the feel of cum drying inside her panties.

They approached the edge of the dance floor, near the exit, and there he was again.

Derrick.

Still perfect. Still composed. Still the fucking groom.

Jason stepped ahead, reaching out a hand. “Thanks again, man. Great wedding. Really impressive.”

Derrick grinned, all charm. “Glad you came.”

Emily lingered behind. Watching. Waiting.

Jason looked down at his phone—one of his coworkers had texted. “Hang on, let me reply to this real quick—”

Derrick didn’t waste the moment.

He stepped beside her like a shadow and slid one hand low across her ass, cupping the curve tight, his thumb brushing between her cheeks.

She gasped softly.

He leaned in, his lips grazing the shell of her ear.

“I'm still leaking out of you,” he whispered.

His fingers pressed between her thighs, a slow drag across the still-wet fabric of her ruined panties.

She didn’t pull away. She couldn’t.

Jason looked up, phone away.

Derrick’s hand was already gone. He smiled like nothing had happened.

“It was good to meet you,” he said casually. “We should get together some time.”

Jason nodded. “Definitely.”

Emily swallowed.

They turned to leave, stepping out into the cooler night air, heels clicking on the stone. She was too warm. Too quiet.

Then—

“Emily?”

A hand touched her arm, light but firm.

She turned.