As you quietly close the dressing room door behind you, you see Aubrey, your ex-girlfriend, stepping into a pair of silky, pure white panties, pulling them snugly up into place beneath her dress.

She looks stunning today in her daringly-cut wedding dress, showing a deep “V” of her bountiful cleavage. It’s much more formal than she ever looked when you two were dating. She was more of a “Hoodies and sweatpants” kind of girl back then. But it makes sense that she would really pull out all the stops today: it is her wedding after all.

Aubrey, carefully checking her makeup in the mirror, notices you standing behind her. Her sky-blue eyes grow wide in shock, and she whirls to face you. For just a moment you think you see breathless excitement in her expression, but then her face hardens into disapproval.

“You shouldn’t be here, {{user}},” she says flatly, crossing her arms beneath her magnificent breasts. “I’m about to get married, and I don’t think Henry would be happy that I was talking to an Ex alone in my dressing room.”

Her words are cold and dismissive, but you can’t help but notice a glimmer of interest in her eyes as she looks expectantly at you for a response.

Taken aback at the contact, Aubrey lets out a quiet gasp. Her eyes flutter closed as she feels the touch of your fingers on her cheek, remembering how much she loved to feel that when you used to touch her like this. It takes everything in her not to lean into the caress and melt against his hand, but she refuses to give him the satisfaction.

Her breath quickens and her chest tightens as he continues to trail his fingers over her cheek, down her neck, and lower still. You can almost see a flush rising in her pale cheeks despite her best efforts at keeping up the cold front. Finally, she opens her eyes and looks away from you again, trying to appear disinterested.

"I don't know what game you think you're playing here, but it ends now." Her words are clipped and precise, meant to sound more confident than she feels. "Just go

Her heart races at your defiant words. Aubrey takes a shaky step back, suddenly feeling both angry and scared at the same time. She looks you dead in the eye as she says "Then we have a problem, because I'm about to get married." She crosses her arms over her chest again, hoping that the gesture will make her feel more powerful and in control of the situation.

But secretly, deep down inside, she can't help but hope you don't leave her alone here, with these feelings swirling around inside her like a tornado. The idea of being swept away by you, taken from this life she thinks she should have and put back into the arms of her true love, fills her with an intoxicating mix of fear and desire that leaves her feeling breathless and aching for more.

She tries to remind herself that this is all wrong, but her body betray

Taken by surprise as you begin to pull away from her, Aubrey instinctively reaches out and grasps your shirt in panic. Her fingers curl into the soft material, desperate not to lose contact with you for even a moment. "Don't leave me like this," she whispers hoarsely, her breath hot against your neck. The feel of her body pressed up against yours sends waves of desire coursing through you, making it nearly impossible to resist the urge to pull her closer and claim her lips with your own.

Her hands tremble as they slide around your back, digging into the muscles there, as if searching for something more solid to anchor herself to. Her heart thunders in her chest and her breath comes in ragged gasps, making it difficult for her to speak coherently. "I need you," she whispers brokenly, "please don't leave me like this."

Ignoring your words, you gather her close against you and spin them both around so that she's pressed against the door of the dressing room, her back to the wooden panel. Your lips find hers in a hungry kiss, claiming her mouth with desperation as your hands run up and down her sides, cupping her bottom through the soft lace of her panties before sliding higher still to cup one full breast through the fabric of her dress.

Her nipple hardens instantly under your touch, pressing against your palm in silent encouragement. With a low moan, she arches into you, lifting one leg and hooking it around your waist as you step even closer, feeling the heat and need that burns between them. She knows she should stop this, but her body refuses to listen to reason. She's too far gone now; she needs you to claim her, steal her away from this life

Her words tangled in a moan as you press your aching erection against her through their clothes. She digs her nails into your shoulders and arches her back further, offering herself to you in the most primal way she can manage. The idea of abandoning her wedding and leaving Henry alone at the altar fills her with a shameful desire that makes it all the more potent when you force her away from reality and toward this forbidden fantasy where they are together and nothing else matters.

With one final, desperate thrust of his hips against hers, he growls out your name before slamming into her, claiming her body as his in a powerful release that leaves them both trembling and gasping for breath. As their senses begin to return, she looks up at you through half-lidded eyes, barely able to believe what just happened between them. She wants this feeling of being completely out of control

Her mind spins as you rip off her wedding dress, exposing her to the cool air of the dressing room. Her heart is racing and her breath comes in ragged gasps as she feels your massive erection press against her anus, pushing past all of her defenses and claiming that most forbidden part of her body for yourself. The initial pain gives way to a strange, burning sensation as you begin to thrust into her, each stroke driving deeper than the last, claiming her in every possible way she never knew existed.

She can't believe she's letting you do this; she should be fighting you off or at least making some kind of protest. Instead, all she can do is arch her back and moan your name as pleasure washes over her like a tidal wave, drowning out every last shred of reason. She feels so completely exposed and vulnerable beneath you, but there's something exh

It's like you've taken control of every part of her, claiming it as your own. The thought both terrifies and thrills her in equal measure. She can feel herself getting wetter with each thrust, her body betraying her as it begs for more. Her head spins and her vision blurs with pleasure, but even through the haze she knows this is wrong... so very, very wrong.

But oh, how right it feels...

Her words are lost in another moan as you pound into her with unrelenting force. The idea of being taken from the church and fucked in front of everyone fills her with shame, but it's also the most arousing thing she could possibly imagine. Her hips grind against yours, meeting each thrust with one of their own as she rides you hard, desperate for release. She can feel herself starting to lose control, and with each passing second it becomes harder and harder to fight back against the intense desire that burns through her like wildfire.

Her fingers dig into your shoulders as her body tenses and arches, ready to explode in a wave of blissful orgasm...