dance with her

The first man arrived—a good friend of Florian’s. He made a generous donation and pulled Svenja onto the dance floor. As they danced, he “accidentally” rubbed his hands against her breasts and exposed them. The vibrations grew stronger. Svenja bit her lip, her legs trembled, and her pussy clenched spasmodically. Then the next one. And the next.

Every man was allowed to dance with her, pull her close, feel his hands on her hips or even briefly on her ass. At the same time, the unmarried women—led by Sara—pulled one layer of tulle after another from the hoop skirt. With every tug, the skirt became more transparent. Soon you could make out the contours of Svenja’s legs, her thighs, and the sheer dome beneath.

Suddenly, Svenja panicked. She turned her head to the other side of the barrier and shouted across the dance floor:

“Honey! The women are taking all my tulle away… until there’s none left!”

Florian laughed heartily in response, waved at her, and shouted so everyone could hear:

“It’s tradition, my darling! They’re making wedding dresses for themselves out of it. You don’t need any more, after all!”

Svenja kept dancing, her face beneath the veil contorted with pleasure and rising panic. With every new dance partner, another layer of tulle was torn from the hoop skirt. The skirt was becoming increasingly transparent. Soon, her legs, thighs, and the firm, transparent dome beneath were clearly visible—her smooth, bright-red cunt and twitching asshole were on full display for anyone who looked closely. The vibrator hummed incessantly to the beat of the music, buried deep inside her.

The crowd laughed and applauded enthusiastically. Svenja turned bright red beneath the veil; her pussy clenched convulsively around the vibrating intruder. She could do nothing. The huge hoop skirt was torn off layer by layer—the women pulled at the tulle layers, laughing and screaming, and threw them into the crowd, where they were distributed as souvenirs.

With each layer, the transparent dome became more clearly visible. In the end, Svenja stood there almost entirely in the tight, clear shell—her bare, hypersensitive pussy and asshole were on full display for the entire wedding party. The vibrator continued to pulse, her smooth skin taut, her clit throbbing, swollen and red. Every step, every turn made the dome wobble slightly and pushed the vibrator even deeper inside her.

Svenja kept dancing, her legs trembling, her tits bouncing in the deep cleavage, while the guests cheered and whistled. Many men donated even more, just to be allowed to dance once with the nearly naked, vibrating bride.

Florian stood on the other side, grinning proudly. He thought his bride was simply overwhelmed with happiness and excitement.

In reality, Svenja was just coming again—quietly, trembling, her knees weak—as the last layer of tulle fell and the transparent dome exposed her dripping, used pussy for all to see.

Sara stepped into the center of the dance floor, a microphone in her hand, and grinned broadly at the cheering crowd. “Men, pay attention! Florian has put a very special accessory on his bride today—something she’s been wearing obediently for him all day!”

With a jerk, she spun Svenja around, grabbed the huge hoop skirt, and lifted it up to her hips. The entire wedding party stared directly at Svenja’s bare, bright red, dripping cunt. The thick white vibrator was buried deep inside her, still vibrating softly from the last bass note of the music, glistening with Svenja’s own thick juices. Her labia were swollen and shiny, her clit protruding hard, a long, sticky thread of her arousal already hanging down to the floor.

Svenja let out a loud shriek, her hands twitching desperately downward—but the transparent, firm dome around her hips prevented her from even getting close. Amid her own piercing scream and the noise of the crowd, the device suddenly vibrated more intensely. Her knees buckled, her legs trembling uncontrollably. A loud, lustful moan escaped her from beneath the veil as another small, intense orgasm jolted through her. Her pussy clenched convulsively; you could see it clearly—the muscles visibly milked the vibrator, a thick, glistening drop of her pussy juice ran out, splashed onto the floor, and formed a small puddle.

The crowd cheered and laughed. Cell phones were raised, flashes went off.

Florian laughed heartily from the other side of the barrier and shouted, “It’s just for fun and nothing you haven’t seen from you anyway!” He was thinking of the garter on her thighs. Everyone else was thinking of something completely different.

Sara grinned and continued speaking into the mic: “And there’s a very special surprise for the winner!” She leaned briefly toward Florian and whispered in his ear: “A special dance.”

Then she asked the crowd aloud: “Should we give the two of them some privacy for that?” Florian, still laughing and clueless, called back: “Yes! But no hands allowed!” He thought it would be a funny gag because of the garter, if one of his friends had to pull the garter off her with his teeth.”

The auction began immediately. “200 euros!” called the first bidder.

The bids rose quickly. In the end, a burly, handsome friend of Florian’s won for 850 euros.

The winner stepped forward, pulled Svenja toward him, and reached under the transparent dome. With a smacking sound, he pulled the vibrating, dripping vibrator out of her wet, red pussy. Svenja immediately collapsed in front of him; her legs gave way, and a long, lustful scream emerged from beneath the veil. Her pussy gaped open, pulsating, dripping.

The curtains were closed—but not completely. There was a large gap in the middle. Additionally, the curtains were translucent, so that more than just silhouettes and every movement remained clearly visible to all spectators. You could see exactly how the winner pulled Svenja toward him, reached under the transparent dome, and with a loud, smacking sound pulled the vibrating, dripping vibrator out of her wet, wide-gaping cunt. Svenja immediately collapsed before him, her legs giving way completely, a long, horny scream emerging from beneath the veil. Her cunt gaped open, pulsing, dripping—you could see it contracting greedily, as if it wanted to feel something inside it.

Sara was right there. She pulled the winner’s pants down, took out his hard, thick cock, and pushed Svenja’s head forward. Loudly, so everyone could hear, she called out to Florian over the barrier: “No hands, right?”

Then she pressed Svenja’s open, drooling mouth onto the man’s hard cock. Svenja, still trembling from her last orgasm, began to suck automatically—deep, wet, ****. You could hear the loud smacking and gagging through the speakers. Her head moved back and forth, strands of saliva running down her chin, dripping onto her cleavage.

Sara smiled and shouted even louder: “We’re so glad we got to know the secret of your love!” As she spoke, she pointedly tapped the soles of the bride’s shoes, where “BLOWJOB QUEEN” was written in large letters for all to see.

The winner groaned loudly, grabbed Svenja by the hair, and came deep into her mouth and all over her face. Thick, white spurts splattered onto her tongue, ran over her lips, and dripped onto her cleavage and white dress. She swallowed as much as she could; the rest ran in long strands down her chin.

Sara wiped her mouth and called out loudly through the barrier to Florian, “Is it okay if she goes for another round?”

Florian laughed heartily and shouted back, “Sure! Anyone who donates gets a round with my little bride!”

The crowd cheered enthusiastically.

Svenja knelt there trembling, her face covered in cum, her pussy open and dripping, the dome still around her hips—and smiled through tears of lust and shame.

Sara wiped her mouth and called out loudly through the barrier to Florian, “Is it okay if she goes for another lap?”

Florian laughed heartily and called back, “Sure! Anyone who donates gets a ride with my little bride!”

Svenja knelt there trembling, her face covered in cum, her pussy open and dripping, the dome still around her hips—and smiled through tears of pleasure and shame.