Here Comes the Bride: Part Two

Abigail Mac and Natasha Voya can hardly sit still, Vanessa’s close to kicking through that door any minute. When she actually calls, all starry-eyed from the wedding dinner, Abigail spots her opening. She smiles like a cat that’s planning dinner, then dials the desperation all the way up. Abigail spins out over the phone about the dress feeling too tight, the flowers, the goddamn expectations riding her shoulders. She moans that pushing the big day back might be the only sane move. Vanessa starts begging, sweet girl promising she’ll do whatever it takes to keep her brother’s heart from getting ripped out. Bait set. Thirty seconds later Abigail’s facedown, purring thanks to “my future-favorite sister.” Natasha climbs on next to her, playing low-key photographer while Vanessa’s soft hands circle over the bride’s sweaty lower back and glide down that heart-shaped ass, rubbing circles right over the hem of the silky white slip. That mild thaw makes Abigail bold. She flips over without warning, pokes her nipples against the thin fabric and orders Vanessa’s fingers to give her tits a real working over—squeeze, flick, anything—but the second she tells her to spread those thighs and knead the trembling flesh just inches from her soaked panties, Vanessa snatches her hands back. Blunt refusal, panic on her pretty face. Abigail pours honey over cold steel: one more “no” and the wedding vanishes, big brother crushed, photos in the trash. She’s backed the girl into a corner and everyone smells it, thick tension hanging. Will Vanessa give in and drown in the warmth between Abigail’s thighs, or risk setting the entire day, and her brother’s future, on fire?