Substitute Bride

Kathryn shook her head. "He's going to be here in a few minutes, Rachel," she warned, hoping that there may be some logical part of her friend left sober.

Nope. Rachel had already gotten the idea into her head. "I want to see you," she said. "I think you'll look fabulous in this dress! Here, help me get it off."

She managed to stand up, and then turned around so that Kathryn could help her out of it. Reluctantly, Kathryn began to untie the straps for the corset bodice, which came undone remarkably quickly. Whoever Rachel had chosen for her seamstress had been a master at the craft. It was an extremely simple dress, and very easy to get on and off. In less than a minute Rachel was free of all fabric, and lay back down on the bed, naked as a jaybird.

It may not have been the first time Kathryn had seen her best friend naked, but it wasn't as if it was a common, every-day occurrence. From Kathryn's perspective, Rachel's body was perfect. It was true they shared similar body types: thin waists, slim hips, equal height. But Kathryn had always felt that her excessive breast size made her look... heavy. No matter how many times her doctor told her she was 'perfectly healthy and normal,' she never felt like she could accept it. From where she stood, Rachel embodied the most perfect proportions that anyone could ever want.

In her own tipsy state, she couldn't help but stare at Rachel, laying casually across the bed. "Go on," Rachel drawled. "Hurry up. I want to see you in time to put my dress back on before he gets here." She winked coyly.

"There's no room in here," Kathryn said. It was a lame, half-hearted protest. Inside, she desperately wanted to try on the dress.

Rachel's sigh was equally exasperated and melodramatic. "Then go into the master bedroom," she scolded. "Go do it!"

Somewhat reluctantly, Kathryn left Rachel in the spare room and went into the master bedroom to change. She flipped on the light, which immediately solicited a tirade of obscenities from the drunken bride in the other room, so she immediately turned them off again. It didn't matter, the brilliant outside light cast just enough light to be able to see what she was doing.

As she shimmied out of her bridesmaid dress, she found herself fantasizing about David coming in and approaching Rachel. She imagined him coming into the bedroom, seeing her on the bed in that pose, and unzipping his pants. She could only imagine what David looked like, his cock jutting out from his tuxedo trousers, bobbing with every heartbeat. It was a nice addition to the liquid libido she had drunk during the evening. She joked to herself that perhaps she could hide in the closet and watch.

Tempting, tempting...

She stepped into the circlet of the wedding dress, and pulled it up around her waist, taking the thin silky material from behind her an adjusting them in place over her breasts, securing the ties just as she had done for Rachel earlier in the afternoon. She was surprised to find that even tying up the corset bodice was quick and easy. The dress now on and fastened properly, she caught herself in the mirror.

Her mouth dropped open. If Rachel had looked stunning, she was mesmerizing, even by her own standards. The dress fit snugly, but accentuated her curves even more than they had the actual bride. Instantly she felt herself get wet at her own reflection, which was a definite first. She had never before found anything other than flaws and imperfections whenever she looked in the mirror. Now, however, she thought she saw what men saw when they looked at her.

The corset pushed her breasts together in an almost lewd manner, but there was no denying the effect of the dress on her cleavage. If she had had a dick she would have wanted to spray them with semen too. Reluctantly she turned away from the mirror and walked across the main room to the guest room where she had left Rachel.

"Okay, here you go," she said as she entered the room. "What do you..."

Rachel lay on the bed, fast asleep, one hand between her legs. Evidently she had started playing with herself but fell asleep in the process.

"... think," Kathryn sighed. "Oh well."

She turned around and went back to the other room to take off the dress. How the hell am I going to get this back on her for when David gets back? She thought about how hard it might be to wake her, but that was David's problem.

When she got back to the other room, though, she caught sight of herself in the mirror once more. This time, though, she felt a bit more depressed. I'm never going to look this good again, she thought. I can't even wear this dress for my own wedding, not if I want Rachel to be a part of it.

She ran her hands down her sides, feeling the curves of her breasts fade into the tiny arcs of the sides of her waists. The dress was snug, especially in the chest, but she didn't care. This dress had been designed for larger-breasted women, and as big as Rachel was, it simply looked far more natural on Kathryn's frame.

She stood in front of the mirror, turning her body around so that she could see from as many angles as possible. If she turned a certain way, and stepped far enough into the moonlight that her face was hidden, she looked exactly like her best friend. Once again the dress was brilliant in reflecting the moonlight, so much so that it was almost painful to look at it straight on. One twist of a hip, however, and the illusion was broken. There was no confusing her upper body for Rachel's.

She smiled sadly as she realized it was time to take off the dress. She began to doubt how she was going to put it back on Rachel, and it looked like David wasn't going to get his wedding night fantasy after all. Rachel was completely passed out.

I am such a shitty maid of honor, she thought. Once again, she felt waves of guilt wash over her. I never should have let her drink so much!

David had worked so hard to make the perfect wedding, and with her forgetfulness she had taken away the opportunity to relive it. Now, the only thing left was his memories. He probably wanted to have his memories for his wedding night as well, but Rachel's drinking binge in response to her mother's interference had taken care of that, too.

She thought about what she could do. Could she salvage this somehow? She thought about putting the dress back on Rachel and positioning her on the bed. Would David jack off onto her breasts as she lay, passed out?

The thought enticed her, and even excited her, but she knew that this simply wasn't David's personality. As arousing a thought, it just wouldn't happen. Still, it was fun to contemplate the mental visual.

Poor, poor David, she thought, reaching behind her to untie the corset laces. She was doing a lot of thinking about David and Rachel's love life, and was beginning to realize that wearing the dress was pushing her farther into the world of vicarious living.

A familiar noise from the main room froze her in her tracks. The electronic key latch slipped out of place, permitting the newly married occupant to return. "See you later," she heard David call to someone.

Oh, shit!

Her eyes darted about, looking for some means of escape, but she couldn't move. There was no possible way to get out of the dress before he saw her in it. How the hell could she explain why she was in his wife's dress? She looked left, and then right, trying to figure out what to do. Hide? Dive under the bed? No, the dress would never fit under there.

"Oh my god," David said, suddenly appearing in the doorway. "Don't move."

Shit! She was paralyzed. She couldn't have moved even if she wanted to. I've got to explain this! How can I explain this?

"You looked amazing tonight," David said softly, taking a step into the bedroom. "I mean, I wanted you a long, long time. But now I have you here to myself. Finally."

Wait, what? Kathryn found herself panicking. Surely this can't be happening. He cannot be hitting on her. On his wedding night. With his newlywed bride in the very next room!

"I just want to look at you for a little while," he continued, his voice a little unsteady. "I want to remember you, like this, for the rest of my life."

Kathryn swallowed, and found her throat and mouth parched. "David," she tried to say but it came out as a croak.

"Shhh," he said, taking another step. "I know things didn't go as planned tonight. Mistakes happen."

Kathryn felt a rise in the back of her throat, choking off her words. He does hold it against me! I knew it!

"At least we can end the day right," David said. His voice sounded smooth, but not quite as stable as normal. The alcohol had definitely affected him. "You know, in this moonlight you look absolutely amazing. I told you I wanted you earlier, but in this light that dress looks even sexier on you now. I didn't think that was possible."

"I -" Kathryn said, and then stopped. Wait, what?

Then it dawned on her. She glanced in the mirror for confirmation: He couldn't see her. He thought she was Rachel! The strange effect of the dress, the moonlight, and the shadows, all meant that she was effectively camouflaged.

Looking back at David, she could see that even if the lighting was better, he wasn't looking at her face anyway. He was completely fixated on her breasts. He was obviously unsteady on his feet, and probably not much better off than Rachel had been.

She regarded him as he ogled her. It was uncomfortable, knowing that her best friend's boyfr- husband - was looking at her with lustful intent. It felt wrong, and she felt she was supposed to slap him for even implying such a thing. In this case, though, she was the impostor here.

Kathryn didn't know what to do. She knew what she should do. She should come out and tell him that she was not his wife, that his wife was passed out from far too much alcohol in the other room, and that oh yeah, by the way, sorry that the end of your perfect day got screwed up and no, even though you'll never have another "wedding night" you're basically SOL even though you didn't deserve any of this stuff happening to you, and oh yeah I'm the one that has to tell you that everything's all messed up and if I had done my job as the maid of honor I would have been watching Rachel more closely to make sure she didn't get this wasted so yeah everything that went wrong today is all my fault so let me take off your wife's wedding dress that I shouldn't even be wearing and leave you here with your thoughts about how you didn't get the memorable stuff about today all because of me.

She swallowed. That's what she should do, right? After all, the proper thing here was to leave him there with little more than a cold shower to keep him company on his wedding night. She regarded him carefully, trying to find the words to say it, but every opening sounded like the wrong one. There just didn't seem to be a way to do it gently, no way to do it right.

What's more, she could see how much he wanted her. His desire for her felt like a gravitational pull. She had never seen such intense focus from a man before, a primal imperative that was being barely held in check. David's face was a thin veneer of chivalry barely covering a raging animalistic sexual drive.

The recognition came from a primal, instinctual part of her brain. That look meant he would ravage her, claim her as his own. He would own her, possess her body, takeher as he wished. Here was a man who wanted to do to her what a real man does to a real woman.

Her own reaction to his feral attitude shocked her. She desperately wanted to be made "his" woman. She could see herself succumbing to his ferocious passion and unable to stop either it, him, or herself once it started. Being wanted so intensely made her weak in the knees, even if he didn't even know who it was that he actually wanted.

"David," she managed to choke out through dry lips. She tried to wet them with her tongue, but had to swallow several times to find any moisture. I'm not Rachel. I'm not Rachel. You can't have me. I'm Kathryn.

Once again she felt horrible for what she had done to him, the work he had put into the "perfect day," and how she had all but ruined it. He hadn't done anything to deserve her costly mistake. Now his bride was passed out in the other room, beyond recovery. She wasn't going to give him his special night - that night that only came once in a lifetime. She couldn't do it, so Kathryn - the maid of honor, the woman who is supposed to take care of everything on behalf of the bride - needed to do it.

He took a step towards her, but she held her hand up to ward him from moving any closer. It was her last desperate effort to prevent herself from careening over the point of no return. He stopped.

The light cascaded across his face, shining in his eyes. She was seeing him the way that Rachel saw him, unfiltered. This was a moment that only one person on the planet should ever get to see, his guard completely let down, open and laid bare.

"Take out your cock."

The voice she heard was not her own. It was a whisper that came from somewhere, somewhere that just happened be very close to her own throat. Wait, I didn't say that! an inner voice shrieked. Who said that? No, no, no... That inner voice was immediately shut away in a jail cell of solitary confinement, along with the rest of her conscience and self-control.

David smiled, and stood with his legs shoulder-width apart. The light from the window covered him from his head to his knees, where her visibility completely disappeared. He seemed to float in mid-air.

In that moment, he was no longer David, her best friend's cute partner. This was Michaelangelo's David, a symbol of masculinity that forced her hormones into overdrive.

The zipper slid down slowly as he paced himself. He obviously wanted to tease her as much as he could, and she was surprised to find just how much it was working. Finally the zipper was completely down, and when he reached into the tuxedo trousers with his hand, she watched him try to maneuver himself out of his underwear and avoid the zipper teeth.

As he revealed himself to her, though, another feeling - one as equally pressing - surged forward for her. He was as hard as anything she had ever imagined in her life. Cute, adorable David was magnificent in his desire for her.

No, not her. He thinks I'm Rachel, she scolded herself. It didn't change the fact that she wanted him, too, and that voice of conscience seemed to echo from a more distant place.

"Close your eyes," she whispered. She hoped that she could mask her voice by keeping it as quiet as possible. He hesitated, but did as he was told.

She got on her knees, and shuffled towards him. The dress rustled loudly, sounding like it was the only noise in the room. It made her feel awkward and self-conscious, convinced that he was going to open his eyes and realize that she wasn't his new wife. However, he didn't, and she had no problem taking her time in marveling at his erection at point-blank range.

David's cock stood in front of her face like a deranged popsicle. The light cut across the shaft it appeared to be half-invisible. It bounced and bobbed, and she knew that she had already gone too far. As she thought about the insanity of her decision, she felt her lips brush against the soft skin of his head. The touch was an electric jolt to her, suddenly making everything real. Here she was, kneeling in front of her best friend's new husband, her lips savoring the soft fleshy texture of his most private part, about to take him first.

She could smell him, smell his arousal. The texture of his cock felt like pure sex to her, and a deep primitive reaction between her legs reacted strongly to it. Like some automatic trigger she reached her tongue out and wet the cockhead.

She felt his hands encircle her head. "Oh yes," he said. "I love watching you suck my cock."

He opened his eyes! she thought. Even so, her head was facing forwards and he obviously couldn't really see her face. Instinctively, she rushed forward and deep-throated him until her face was buried against his pelvis. Hiding in plain sight, she thought.

"Ohh," he moaned.

She kept her face down so that he couldn't see her. She felt his hands on the top of her head, keeping her that way. She suckled him for a few moments, and then needed to come up for air.

"Close your eyes," she repeated, keeping her face down. "Just feel me."

He seemed to hesitate, and she nearly panicked thinking that he had grown suspicious. "Okay," she heard him say eventually, and she went back to sucking on his cock.

She felt him push forward with his hips, urging her to take him in, and she gladly obliged. His cock felt red hot, almost searing her mouth. Rachel had been right: he was a perfect size and shape for her to take him, ramrod straight, with no curious bends or shapes.

Her last boyfriend's cock had been shaped almost like a miniature bowling pin, and where she felt the middle of his shaft stretch her mouth to the point of pain, David's slide smoothly across her tongue and into her throat. It was a pure enjoyment to experience.

As his cock invaded and then withdrew with each movement, she tried not to think of her act of unmitigated betrayal. She was sucking off her best friend's husband... on their wedding night.

I have to do this, she thought. It's the least I can do for him. He deserves this, after everything he did for Rachel.

Inside, something began to twist and turn. Her sense of pity had become obligation, and her obligation had begun to turn to self-righteousness. She started to feel... angry.

It's Rachel's fault, Kathryn thought. If she hadn't gotten so drunk, so pissed off with her mother, she would have been able to give David what he truly deserves.

This began making sense to her. Yes, this is all true. What would have happened had she not been here? If she had just dropped off Rachel, David would have gotten back to the room to find that his bride was too intoxicated for even a simple fuck. After everything he had done for Rachel, that selfish bitch would leave him high and dry.

Poor David.

It was a good thing that she had been here to take care of him on this important night. It was a very good thing.

She redoubled her efforts on his cock, reaching up to cup his balls with one hand and stroke his shaft with the other. She began to feel a sense of moral righteousness with each of his thrusts, a confirmation that she was doing the just and moral act. She felt confirmed in her mission, more confident in what she was doing. He seemed to grown ramrod straight in her mouth, and she loved his response to her technique.

Kathryn had always known that she was good with her mouth, but that was probably because she enjoyed it so much. Feeling him fill her mouth seemed remarkably natural, as she was able to read his reaction and respond accordingly. It wasn't long before he was rocking his hips forwards and back, the natural rise of desire and arousal leading him to an inevitable finish.

She could have let him do that, should have let him finish. Let him come, give him her wedding present to them both, make up for what she had done, covered for her best friend - everyone and everything satisfied the way it should be. She felt him swell and stiffen, and her hands felt his balls contract. He was about to come.

She pulled off. She didn't even know why she did it. Instead, she stared intently at David's penis in front of her. Despite having had her share of men, this was the first time she had stopped to consider and regard the male organ. It was a hyper-realistic perspective, so close to his erection that it seemed to take on its own personality. It glistened from her saliva, and she could smell some of the alcohol from her own breath coming back to her. It throbbed. It pulsed.