In the church

Jan, Lisa, and the four friends (Verena, Tanja, Steffi, and Madeleine) stood in the front row, grinning knowingly at each other. They knew exactly what was happening.

The organ continued to play, loud and solemn. With every powerful strike of the keys, the vibrator in Svenja’s pussy vibrated more intensely, perfectly matching the volume and rhythm. Her smooth, bare slit contracted spasmodically, her clit throbbing hard and sensitively; her juices were already running down the insides of her thighs in small rivulets and being absorbed by the huge hoop skirt.

Then they knelt.

The entire hall saw it: as Svenja and Florian knelt, the hem of her dress lifted for a brief moment. On the bride’s white shoe soles, visible to everyone, were large black letters: BLOWJOB QUEEN

On Florian’s: CUCKOLD

A few guests giggled quietly, others stared in confusion—but no one said a word. After all, it was a wedding.

With every new moan, Svenja clung tighter to Florian’s hand. Her fingernails dug deep into his skin, her whole body trembling. Beneath the veil, her face was contorted with pleasure—eyes rolled back, mouth half-open, saliva dripping down her lower lip. The vibrations in her pussy grew more intense, the deep bass tones causing the vibrator to hammer brutally against her G-spot. Then they were finally married.

Florian lifted the veil. Svenja looked at him with tear-filled, lust-distorted eyes. Her cheeks were bright red, beads of sweat running down her forehead.

“This is all your fault…,” she whispered hoarsely.

Florian smiled, touched, thinking she meant how happy she was.

She kissed him—deeply, hungrily, desperately. Her tongue penetrated his mouth as the organ played the final, loud chord. At that very moment, Svenja came again.

The vibrator exploded inside her pussy. A brutal, long orgasm rolled through her body. Her legs buckled, she collapsed heavily into Florian’s arms, her pussy squirted lightly into the hoop skirt, a warm gush of her lust ran down her thighs. Her whole body trembled, she moaned softly into his mouth, her knees gave way.

Florian held her tight, thinking it was just the emotional overwhelm, and quickly pulled her out of the church while the guests cheered and applauded.

Outside, in the bright light, Svenja stood trembling in his arms, her pussy still vibrating, her legs wet with her own juices, her face tear-streaked with pleasure.

“It’s all your fault…” she whispered once more, this time with a lustful, exhausted smile. Florian kissed her on the forehead and thought he was the happiest man in the world. Now all the guests came over to congratulate the newlyweds.

Svenja stood smiling in her beautiful wedding dress; the deep neckline showcased her full breasts, while the huge hoop skirt mercifully concealed everything beneath. Florian held her hand, beaming with pride, and thought his bride was simply overwhelmed with happiness. And then the church bells began to ring. Every chime of the church bells was a hard, deep vibration straight into Svenja’s pussy.

The sound-activated vibrator reacted. With every powerful “bong,” it exploded inside her tight, smooth slit—brutally, rhythmically, mercilessly. Svenja’s knees buckled with every thud, her pussy clenched spasmodically, her clit throbbed hard and sensitively. She couldn’t do anything. The huge hoop skirt prevented her from slipping her hand under the fabric. The guests arrived one after another.

Each one embraced the bride warmly. Svenja smiled bravely, her cheeks glowing red, the veil hiding her contorted face of pleasure. With every chime, a new, intense wave washed over her. Her pussy squirted quietly into the hoop skirt; warm juices ran down her thighs and were immediately absorbed by the thick tulle. Just as she hugged her uncle—an older, good-natured gentleman—the bell rang particularly loud and long. Svenja came.

Her whole body stiffened in his arms. Her pussy cramped violently around the vibrating intruder, a hot surge of her lust shot out and ran in streams down her legs. She bit her lip; a loud moan escaped her, which she quickly disguised as a sob.

“Oh… I’m just so happy…,” she gasped. The uncle patted her back. “That’s perfectly normal, my child.” Florian smiled tenderly beside him.

It went on like this for 15–20 minutes. Gong after gong. Orgasm after orgasm. Svenja was passed from guest to guest, hugged, kissed, congratulated—and came again and again in the process. Her legs were like jelly, her pussy a single wet, twitching mess. The hoopskirt mercifully hid everything, but beneath the white fabric her juices ran in streams, mixed with the cum from the past few hours.

Meanwhile, Sara continued to kneel in the bell tower, her mouth full of the altar boy’s cock.