Prologue

I pulled at the starched collar of the unfamiliar white dress shirt. The damned thing was too tight, and I regretted having borrowed it from Dad. I should have spent the twenty bucks for something that was comfortable, even if I wouldn't be wearing it too often. Although I didn't get to attend too many weddings, that was no reason to choke to death in the meantime.

From the looks of the other men in their suits and tuxes, I wasn't the only one who was uncomfortable. Despite it being the second Saturday in June, we were in the middle of an early heat wave. Not even the church's air conditioning could pull the humidity out of the air and make the building comfortable.

Ignoring the thin trickles of sweat running down the small of my back, I let my eyes wander across the expanse of the large church. It was nice one, much nicer than the tiny chapel our family usually frequented on those rare occasions when we did go to church. There was a raised altar in the front, and real stained glass windows along both sides. The church had been chosen because of its dignified aura and the fact that it was large enough to accommodate the sixty-one invited guests of the bride and groom.

Just as I was beginning to wonder if the service was ever going to start, there was a stirring from the side entrance and Pastor Williams entered, followed by the groom and the best man. Glancing at my watch, I checked the time. Ten-fifteen AM - fifteen minutes late. It figured. These things never manage to get started on time.

As the groom took his place at the head of the aisle, I couldn't help being impressed. He stood comfortably in his light blue tux. In fact, he seemed to be the most comfortable person in the room. If I'd been the one up there I would have been nervous as hell, but he was the exact opposite.

Pastor Williams gave the signal to the organist, and the music began. The familiar melody of the "Wedding March" filled the building, and all eyes turned to the back of the church. Two of the ushers stepped forward and, taking hold of the handles on the double doors, swung them open to reveal the vision beyond.

I say "vision" because that is what she was - tall, her long blond hair cascading over her shoulders and back, the veil framing her face too thin to mask her joy from the congregation. Her wedding dress was satin - pure white with an overlay of cream-colored French lace. The bodice was cut to just above her breasts with a lace panel filling in the space between her swan-like neck and the dress's décolletage. A long formal train followed behind her, joined by an equally long veil. White shoes and gloves completed the outfit. Her hands looked tiny, carrying a bouquet of pink and white roses, lilies-of-the-valley, and babies' breath. She was the image of the perfect bride. She looked positively virginal.

Even though I had to smile at THAT thought.

She started up the aisle on her beaming father's arm. A flurry of flashes went off all around her - cameras capturing the moment for posterity. They would be the first of what I hoped would be many happy memories for her and her soon-to-be husband.

I don't think I had ever seen her look more beautiful, and God knows I had seen everything there was to see of her. I knew every square inch of the body under that wedding gown. There was no part of her I had not gazed upon or caressed, no secret part of her that I had not entered; that I did not know intimately. She and I had been long-time lovers, sharing more than just our bodies; joining together on a level that few lovers are ever privileged to reach. With her I had seen and done it all. I had seen her at her best, completely decked out, her dress and make-up perfect, just wanting to snuggle together with me before starting a sweet session of love. And I had seen her at her most animal level; covered in sweat, just fucked into multiple shattering orgasms, laying back afterwards with her cunt gaping open, our combined juices leaking out and running down the crack of her ass to pollute the bed sheets beneath her. But whether romantic or raw, she had always been the best. For a time we had been true soulmates, needing to hold nothing back from each other - closer to each other than either of us had ever been to any other person up to that point in our lives.

Now I was about to watch her marry another man, and I rejoiced in her good fortune. My sister was marrying the man of her dreams. Because that's what she was - my older sister Amanda, my former sibling lover, my post-graduate teacher in the arts of love, my absolute favorite fuck.

Chapter 1 »