Lauren is hungry

Damian raised his hand, palm out, stopping Lauren before she could close the last few steps.

She froze mid-lunge, hunched forward, chest heaving with those low, needy grunts. Her eyes, wide, glassy, empty of anything sharp, stayed locked on him like he was the center of her world.

“It seems you’re hungry,” Damian said, voice light and amused. “Funnily enough, the previous you brought something that could help with that.”

He pointed casually toward the trolley by the doors. The three-tier cake sat there untouched except for the faint smear where the plastic bride and groom had tilted slightly from the jolt earlier.

Lauren’s head snapped in that direction. Her nostrils flared. A couple of loud, happy grunts rumbled out of her throat, deep, animal sounds that almost formed a word.

“Fooooo…”

She waddled forward fast, knees bent, shoulders rounded, no trace of the confident stride she’d had minutes ago. The purple dress rode up her thighs with every clumsy step. When she reached the trolley she didn’t hesitate. Both fists came down hard on the top tier. Frosting and sponge exploded outward, white cream splattering across her face, her glasses, the front of her dress. Bits of cake flew in arcs, landing on nearby pews and guests who didn’t flinch.

She kept smashing. Fists pounding down again and again, yelling out wordless, joyful roars each time the cake gave way. Cream smeared her cheeks, clung to her ponytail, dripped from her chin. She scooped up handfuls of the ruined mess, sponge, filling, frosting and shoved them into her mouth, chewing with her mouth open, grunting happily between bites. Crumbs rained down her chest. The lower tiers collapsed under her weight as she leaned in, smearing more across her arms and stomach.

Damian laughed, full, genuine, head thrown back. Like it was the most hilarious thing in the world.

Ben’s blood boiled. His sister, the one who’d always been the responsible one, the one who’d organized half his life growing up, was reduced to this: hunched over a destroyed wedding cake, eating like a starved animal, dignity gone. He wanted to scream, to lunge, to pull her away. But his body stayed locked, hands still clutching Evie’s bunched dress, panties sour in his mouth, Evie’s finger still moving mechanically between her legs beside him.

Damian turned his head toward Lauren again, still chuckling.

“I think you’re more hungry for cock, are you not?” he called. “There must be some man here whose cock you want.”

Lauren’s hands froze mid-scoop. Cake dropped from her fingers in wet clumps. She straightened a little, still hunched, still primal and swung her head around, scanning the pews with animal curiosity. Her glasses were completely coated in white frosting now, lenses opaque. She grabbed them with one sticky hand, yanked them off, and flung them aside without a second thought. They clattered across the stone floor and disappeared under a pew.

She hobbled forward again, low to the ground, moving between rows like she was tracking prey. Grunts rolled out of her throat, short, impatient ones.

Then she spotted him.

Her husband, Derek Reed, sat in the third row on the groom’s side. Calm, smiling faintly like everyone else. Sofia was already on him, straddling his lap, naked, grinding her cum-slick pussy against the front of his trousers, hips rolling in slow, **** circles. Derek didn’t react. Didn’t touch her back. Just sat there, ignored her the way Damian had commanded.

Lauren’s face twisted with sudden fury. She let out a loud, guttural yell, half roar, half challenge and charged.

She tackled Sofia off Derek in one clumsy lunge. The two women hit the pew bench hard. Lauren landed on top, beating her chest once with both fists like a gorilla claiming territory. Then she grabbed the front of her own dress and tore it open at the chest, fabric ripping loudly baring her breasts smeared with cake and cream. She straddled Derek’s lap, knees planted on either side of him, grinding down hard against his crotch. Cake bits squished between their bodies, smearing across his shirt and trousers.

Sofia hit the floor with a soft thud, blinked once, then shrugged. She pushed herself up, cum still leaking down her thighs, and moved off without argument, already scanning for the next guest to try.

Lauren didn’t notice. She leaned in and kissed Derek passionately, open-mouthed, sloppy, licking frosting from his cheeks and jaw while her hands fumbled at his fly. She couldn’t figure out the zipper; her fingers slipped on the fabric, clumsy and impatient. She growled low in frustration, hips still rocking against him, trying to feel him through the cloth.