Pete was a gorgeous guy who had his pick of women. In fact, he usually picked more than one of them. This may not seem like a problem to some, but I'm sure his wife wouldn't have been to happy to find out. As for me, I was more limited in opportunities. But I knew I would never have to worry about 'picking' again as I was soon to have my own wife.

Her name was Michelle, and even with an unlimited pick of women, I would have chosen her. She was beautiful, soft, and sexy. I wondered how I had landed a girl whose medium-length blonde hair glowed in the sun, whose face captivated the eyes of every man who beheld it, whose breasts turned heads with their side-to-side bobbing as she walked. She was incredible, and soon to be my wife.

Michelle had told me something of Pete, and the only time they had ever met. It was at a party, and Michelle told me she knew the instant she saw him she was going to fuck him. (This was when we first met, before we started dating. I don't think I could have handled this after I fell in love with her.)

"I wasn't the prettiest girl there." she had explained to me. "So I knew I would have to be the most aggressive." (I don't think any man could resist her aggression.)

Michelle continued. "I went into the bathroom, and was going to tell Carry (her best friend) about him. Her first words were 'Oh my God! Did you see that babe!' My answer was 'Hell Yes! Oh how I want to fuck,him!" Carry smiled at me and told me she saw him looking at me, or more specifically, my breasts."

At this point, I too looked at her tits. She caught me. "It's OK. I know I have large breasts. Anyway, in the bathroom I undid the top buttons on my blouse, to show some cleavage. I had to redo the last one because my bra was showing. Carry stopped me. 'Take off the bra, Michelle.' I paused, then agreed. I was sooo excited I might have gone out there topless. I took off my shirt and bra, noticed Carry staring at my chest jealously, then put my shirt back on. I only buttoned just more than half of the buttons. I practiced my leans, knowing what move would hide my assets, what moves would create cleavage down past my breasts, and what lean-overs would grant Pete a perfect view of my breasts, nipples and all. I then went to conquer."

She went on. "I don't think Pete looked at another girl the rest of the night. Then again, he didn't look at MY face much either. We played cards with some other people, and slowly the crowd dissipated. Soon we were playing Blackjack, just the two of us. We were playing for fun, but I knew every time I leaned over the table to pick up the cards, he was having some EXTRA fun. I started losing, badly. He joked about needing someone good to play with. I offered to raise the stakes. He asked how. I said, name his stakes. He smiled, looked directly at my rather uncovered breasts, and said, 'They've been staring at me all night long.' Then he looked at me. 'If you lose... I get to feel your breasts. If you don't accept my stakes, I'll find someone else to play with.' I agreed."

I listened to her tell me the story, my swelling cock telling me how I could arrange such a game! Michelle continued. "He dealt me a 10. I said 'Hit." He dealt me a 4. I said 'Hit." He dealt me a 6. I said 'Hit.' He dealt me a queen. I said 'Feel.' I ran my fingers down my breasts, ready to open my blouse for him. Then someone popped in the room and said, 'Pete, your wife is on the phone.' He looked very disappointed! So did I.

That's where the story ended. I had forgotten about it quickly as I fell deeply in love with Michelle. Her breasts were well worth Pete's attention, and I saw to it they didn't go neglected. But she was so much more than her tits. She was funny, intelligent, and god, I loved her. I never thought about Pete again, until two days before our wedding night. He had called Michelle, and asked her for sex. He said He was sorry, and that he was now divorced. He wanted to fuck her so bad that night and he couldn't bear the thought of her getting married without sucking her awesome titties and feeling his cock in her warm wet cunt (his exact words.) Naturally, I was pissed! But Michelle calmed me by saying she told him NO! flat out. Since we were moving after the wedding, I figured we wouldn't hear from him again.

The wedding day came, and I was in heaven. Michelle was absolutely radiant. Her gown was stunning, right down to the little peek of cleavage. The day whizzed by in a blur, the only things I remembered were saying "I do." kissing her deeply, and whispering into her ear, "You are my life." I didn't notice the faces around us, or the trip in the limo, or the reception dinner. I just thought about Michelle, how much I loved her, and how I was going to make love to her as my WIFE for the first time. I didn't notice the DJ, didn't notice the dancing, didn't notice Michelle leaving our table with an extremely attractive man...

Michelle stood in the hallway.

"I can't. I CAN'T! I'm married now!"

"God, oh god I want to fuck you!"

"Pete, it's not going to happen!"

"I want to rip that dress off of you. All I can see is your naked body in my mind..."

"Shh! Quiet! I'm married, damn it! Don't let people hear you say things like that!"

"Fine!" Pete took her by the arm and led her into one of the church's rooms that was currently unused. He took her by the hands inside, where she leaned against a desk.

"I want you Michelle. I know you want me, too. You were flashing me your tits that entire god damned night! You were going to fuck me that night, and you know it!"

"That was then Pete! That's ancient history!"

"Say it, say you were going to fuck me!"

"Pete!"

Pete leaned closer, and moved his hand to her right breast. Michelle flinched, but didn't move. "Say it."

She hesitated. He eyes looked down. "I was going to fuck you."

He pressed against her, twirling his finger over the smooth curve of her dress. "Then fuck me now, let me touch you, taste you, fill you."

"No. It can't happen. I don't want it to happen."

"Then why did you send me an invitation?"

Michelle turned her head away. She bit her lip. Pete began stroking her hair with his right hand, and caressing her breast with his left. He pressed his right leg in between hers.

"You want me, don't you?" Pete said smiling. "It's OK. It's OK.." he cooed. "You want me..."

Michelle turned her head back to face him. Tears were streaming down her eyes. She nodded.

"You never forgot me, did you?"

She shook her head.

"Fuck me."

She nodded.

Pete leaned her against the desk, then went to his knees. His hands found their way under the wedding dress, and worked up her legs. Michelle tilted her head back, her eyes till streaming. Pete lifted the dress over his head, and began kissing the garter. He slid his tongue underneath and around it. He clenched it with his teeth, pulling it upward. He moved it up her thigh, pausing to kiss the soft flesh. Michele began to moan softly, she wiped away her tears, and placed her arms on Pete's shoulders. Pete used his hand to slid the garter the rest of the way. As it reached its apex, he pulled out from her dress. His hand moved over, and began rubbing her cunt.