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And The Bride Wore White

By: SadieRose



After the massive story arc that was A Boy Who... this is just a one-off piece, but I've been promising it for ages. It's a little bit slow moving sometimes but it puts flesh on the bones of Rayne's dark past and his complicated family relationships. It also introduces his big sister, Skye properly, for the first time. For anyone who hasn't read these stories before, a WARNING... there is some homo-erotic content. If you don't like that kind of thing, don't read it. If you do read it and you still don't like it, don't complain to me. If you do read it and you do like it, don't take or reproduce it without my permission or I will have to KILL YOU. Enjoy!

*

THE MORNING AFTER THE NIGHT BEFORE:

Sentience filtered back gradually into Rayne Wilde's slender, prone, nineteen year old body, swathed in the moist caress of warm, rumpled bedding and last night's sweaty clothes. The first creeping hint of silvery grey pre-dawn light woke a slow, dull, insidious throbbing behind his eyes that warned of worse torment to come if he tried any sudden moves. 

Rayne came to his senses far too abruptly, his head filled with a miasma of remembered scenes and sounds. Laughter that was too loud, music that was too awful, champagne... Christ, how he hated champagne! He had tried to avoid it, but crammed between the bride to be and her impending mother, with no direct escape route to the bar, he had been at their mercy for much of the previous evening. He was not sure which was worse, watching dad escape with the men in search of proper booze or being forced to sit it out, measuring the correct level of response between smiling but saying nothing and being 'delightfully urban and quirky' as his sister's new family so tactfully put it. 

He had seen the warning light that went on behind Skye's narrow, emerald eyes each time he considered opening his mouth. Putting a litre and a half of Bollinger in there had not been the game plan but every time he looked as if he was about to make a sweeping statement she filled his glass again and he found himself left with no option. 

Jack's kin were nice enough people, but he was utterly bewildered by them. The acid he had dropped earlier in the evening did not exactly help in that respect. It was like communicating with aliens. They prattled on about sheep tics, turnip blight and inheritance tax and a hundred thousand other things he had never once considered in his short, colourful life and he found himself trapped behind a tall, fluted glass with a look of increasing confusion on his face. It was precious little comfort that Skye seemed just as much out of her depth as he was. 

Rayne half turned now, trying to move his face away from the encroaching light. Bad move! His teeth felt as if they were staging a break out through the sides of his face. He was not sure whether to be sick or just to die and get it over with. When he forced his eyes open again the room was dancing up and down like an ancient porn video with the tracking shot to hell. His view was filled with jiggling nipples, full and brown with wide, dark areolas, on a pair of small, pert, perfect tits. Rayne tilted his head, wondering if he had dreamed of taking them in his mouth last night, sucking on them greedily before he collapsed into darkness and the champagne did its worst. 

A lot of things about the day before were slotting into place now with sickening certainty. As Skye Ann sprawled, half naked beside him, her breasts spilling out of the rumpled lace of her black nightie, which in turn was rucked up over the prominent swell of her pale, pregnant belly, he started to put together the trail which had led him here. 

***

His sister was getting married. It had taken long enough for this information to sink in, which was not actually very long at all, just a little over five weeks in fact from her making the initial announcement to this fateful morning. Jack Barnes came from a good, solid, land-owning Dorset family. He was the only son of the head of a wealthy farming clan, who met Skye at a party in Cirencester about seven months ago. She had been dragged along by friends from University who thought the evening out would do her good. He was celebrating his best friend's 30th birthday. Skye helped him to celebrate well into the night. 

He already had a fiancée. Skye had heard all about their three year courtship, and the vow of chastity he had made to Annabel; how they would not have sex before they were married and how much he respected her, as he fucked Skye urgently on a hotel bed at three in the morning. When mutual friends reported gleefully on her increasingly gravid state some three or four months later, to her amazement Jack did the honourable thing and proposed. Skye had been reluctant at first. She presumed that he was only being decent and a firm but polite 'no thanks' would be enough to dissuade him. In that she had been proven wrong. Jack wooed her determinedly, and when he brought her to Dorset to see the familial home and meet his parents, things began to click into place for the girl from the wrong side of the Dymchurch tracks. She was too far along to get rid of the baby, and in truth she had no desire to go through another abortion. She had been too young the last time and was just twenty-one now, with a fine arts degree virtually under her belt. The chance at a good marriage like this might never come her way again, she reasoned. 

Rayne was not so sure. Her brother had always been protective of her when they were little and now they were grown up he was no different. No, in truth he was worse. Since their childhood he had loved her without reserve. He shared everything with her. She knew nearly all his secrets and he hers. They had their childhood spats, like all siblings, but no one affected him so deeply as Skye. Since Rayne turned sixteen their relationship had changed. More recently their attachment had grown beyond the simple platonic affection of brother and sister into a deep empathic bond that showed no signs of breaking. The scars of their shared past drew them together and held them close. 

***

He was starting to remember. When they returned to the house last night, Rayne had stumbled back to the room he was sharing with Dad. Skye had charged him with ensuring that their father made it up the aisle to give her away. Preferably without embarrassing her in front of everyone! Jack was staying in a hotel in Dorchester with friends, as it was considered bad luck for him to see the bride on the morning of their wedding. It would certainly have caused ructions if he could see her at the moment, Rayne considered, shaking his head then abandoning the gesture as a very bad move indeed. He felt as though his brain was melting and trying to trickle out through his ears.

He was trying to put together exactly how and when he had come to be in his sister's bed last night. That part was still hazy. He remembered trying to get Dad to lie down, which had not been easy as their old man's liver was processing at least three-quarters of a bottle of Bushmills. He seemed determined to sing like a wounded tomcat at the top of his lungs until someone came to put him out of his misery. The only way to get him to sleep was to lie down beside him and pretend to nod off, the way one would with a small child. That worked for a little while, but had left Rayne with a particularly disturbing memory, one in which he woke to find his paralytic father kneeling over him with his pants undone murmuring; "Ahh Lily, I love ye. I really do!"

Rayne had fled into the darkness of the huge, rambling house and somehow his homing instinct led him to Skye Ann's bedroom door. She opened it, wrapped in a long, black silk dressing gown and wearing an expression of tolerant disgust. Too exhausted for arguments, she pulled her younger sibling into the room and collapsed onto the bed with him. And there he had slept, finally, sucking on the stiffness of her comforting teats like a child at his mother's breast. 

So here he was the morning after, lying beside her, his hand still curled between her pale, slim thighs, gazing at the familiar curve of her tits and the novel swell of her fecund belly. She was so beautiful; her eyes lightly closed in a false, enchanted sleep; pale, heart-shaped face framed by her dishevelled ebony bangs; long lashes fluttering restlessly on her cheeks. Skye had always been so slender. For much of her youth she had a lean, boyish frame and tiny breasts, which she hated. At five foot six and a half inches in his socks he was slightly taller than she was now, but it had not always been so. For most of his life she had been his Big Sister literally and metaphorically. 

They were united by the darkness of the secret they had shared. After the break up of their parents' marriage they were swept away by their mother to her sister's home in Romney where their Uncle Brian proceeded to erase their innocence. When Skye fled the nest, pregnant for the first time to one of his frequent, illicit coverings, the dirty bastard turned to her younger brother for release. Alone and terrified, Rayne kept his uncle's shameful secret for almost two years until he could bear the horror of it no longer. The resultant nightmare ripped the family apart and was dragged through the courts and the press for months afterwards. It sent their mother to her grave and drove their father deeper into the bottle. The only positive thing to come out of it was that it finally brought Skye back to him, after an absence of nearly three years. 

She had returned older and wiser, the night before his sixteenth birthday. That night she shared his bed, holding him the way mum used to, and bringing him an innocent comfort he had not believed possible. Since then he had been devoted to her happiness. Their intimacy grew stronger with every month that passed. Although they denied the feelings that burned in them initially, it became impossible to keep such passions buried. His love for her increased emotionally and physically until he could not keep himself from entering her when they lay together in each other's arms. Nor did she try to stop him. As they tumbled from youth into young adulthood they became lovers and neither wanted it any other way.

Now he was nineteen and she twenty-one, Rayne had truly believed that nothing could come between them; that was, until she dropped her bombshell just a few weeks earlier. She was pregnant to another man and she was going to marry him. There had been boyfriends before, but never anything as serious as this.

***

"You're not really going to go through with it, are you?" he whispered now, his voice as fragile as old paper after the events of last night. 

"Why would I not?" Skye asked, without opening her eyes. 

He had known she was awake, even as he knew that she would not cushion the blow. Skye was like that; all tough love and practicalities. She took after Mum in that respect. Their mother would have loved today; she would have been up with the larks, arranging the flowers and helping Skye with her dress and makeup; overjoyed that her little girl was going to marry someone who could afford to look after her and give her all the things that Lily Wilde never had. 

"You don't love him," Rayne argued softly, trying to pitch his voice so that it did not set off the post-Bollinger riot in his head again.

"I can grow to love him. He respects me. He'll take care of my baby," she soothed, tugging at her night dress, conscious of her bared breasts. 

She lay on her back still, as that was most comfortable, her face turned towards him at least. Rayne sprawled on his side, one arm cradling his head, the other outstretched, his long, pale hand draped between her thighs. She did not object as his slim fingers deftly stroked between her wet, plump, pink pussy lips. Skye had taught him how to touch her there and by the age of eighteen her little brother could bring her to orgasm with his tongue and fingers like no other man ever had.

"You'll get bored," he warned darkly, running his middle finger deeper into the wet rill between the folds of her darkly furred cunt. The scent of her sex was driving him crazy but if he moved too suddenly he was going to pass out. He was not so much hung over as still violently drunk.

"I'll have you to entertain me," she teased, giving up on the lewdly gaping nightie and letting her legs fall open wider. 

"Dirty cow!" he chuckled huskily, although his cock stirred in his open fly now. He remembered her tugging down his zip as he stumbled onto the bed beneath her. It had all been a bit of a blur afterwards. "Did you fuck me?"

"You're joking, surely?" Skye laughed acerbically. "You were so pissed last night you couldn't even get it up! You're getting as bad as Dad, Rayne."

"That's your mother's fault. She was trying to get me drunk," he said mournfully. His finger wormed deeper into her moist snatch and she lifted her hips off the mattress, humping it steadily now. 

"She succeeded," Skye remarked in a cutting tone. 

Rayne groaned. He did not need telling. 

"I think she was a bit hot for me, actually!"

"She told me you were pretty. But too thin," Skye confided. "She wants to steal you away and feed you up."

"She wants to feed me her pussy!" he countered more playfully. "She wants me strapped to her bed, licking out her big, fat, blond beaver while she gobbles my bone!"

"You filthy bastard!" Skye giggled, squirming on the bed as he eased a second finger firmly up her cunt. "You'd do her as well, wouldn't you?"

"Fuckin' right!" he teased, probing more vigorously. "I'd tell her 'you get that dry old snatch working up and down on my big dick, Sylvia, you old bitch. And you're not getting off my cock until your wrinkled twat's full of my cum!' Just like that, yeah?"

Skye's laughter turned into a shuddering moan as he began to rub the pad of his index finger in slow circles on her clitoris, drawing up some of the wetness that oozed from her pussy. He rolled up onto his hip now, pausing for breath and letting his senses stop swimming before he lowered his mouth to her left breast and began to suck his sister's beautiful, big, brown nipples. They were the colour of milk chocolate, with long, stiff teats as thick as the tip of his little finger. Her groans increased in fervour as he drew her tit into his mouth, running his tongue around the swollen bud and letting his saliva wash over it. His fingers plunged deeper into her clenching gash and worked the hot juices of her sex up over her hairy mound. 

His sister's hand reached down into his open fly for his stiffening cock and Rayne's mouth curved into a knowing smile around her erect teat before he kissed his slow way across her torso to the other breast and began to suckle again. His headache was already receding slightly at the promise of a good hard fuck. Skye's fingers curled possessively around his thickening shaft and began to milk his rising member skilfully. He felt his balls clench hard and knelt up, pulling his hot wet fingers from her chute and using both hands to cup and squeeze her firm, round breasts as she pumped his leaking prick harder.

"Your tits are huge!" he whispered excitedly. 

"It's the baby," she panted, shaking her head. "My body's getting ready for him. They're bigger than they've ever been."

"Him? I'm going to have a nephew?" Rayne licked around her glossy nipple slowly, watching her with mesmerised eyes. "You know that?"

"He feels like a boy," she answered cryptically. "We'll know soon enough. He's due on August 17th."

"Will you breastfeed me when you're full of milk?" he asked with a wicked twinkle. "I want to suck your big bouncy tits while you ride up and down on me."

Her lips parted in a little gasp. 

"Don't tease, Ray!"

"Why not?" He was grinning in spite of the pain that was like a spike between his temples.

"Oh Rayne!" she panted, the lust open and naked in her own gaze. "I need it. He's not come near me since he found out I was up the duff!"

"What? You've not had any cock for seven months?" Rayne was astounded by this news. He could not begin to imagine how horny his big sister must be. Skye loved fucking even more than he did. The thought of going seven days without a cock inside her was a nightmare as far as she was normally concerned.

"Don't be stupid! I said 'he's' not been near me," she rebuked him sharply. "Once I got back to Aberystwyth you wouldn't believe how popular I was. I don't know what it is, but students go crazy for pregnant women."

"You can't knock up a pregnant woman," her little brother said sagely. "Jack must be mental!"

He extricated himself from her grasp before he exploded all over her swollen breasts and belly, then pushed down his jeans and knelt between her open thighs. Skye moaned with indescribable relief when she felt her younger brother's hot, rapid breath between her legs and the caress of his soft lips and warm wet tongue on her quivering, fuck-hungry pussy. His clever hands caressed the undersides of her slender thighs as he began to lick slowly up and down her open slit and press his mouth to her snatch in a long, greedy kiss. She felt his tongue work deeper into her cunt as one hand moved over her mound and he began to rub his thumb in lazy circles around her clit. The middle finger of the other hand eased between her buttocks and teased her anal opening speculatively. 

Rayne loved screwing her up the arse and she never minded his cock there so long as he made her come first with his tongue. This morning he let that clever probe work back and forth from her cunt to her clit and back down her snatch until he was licking out her arsehole. His two middle fingers worked in and out of her pussy whilst he feasted on her rear entrance. Skye writhed under him, trembling with longing as he gave her cunt a good deep frigging, then pulled out his fingers and pushed them slowly up her arse. Skye couldn't see him for the swell of her tummy but she could almost feel the too clever smile on his pretty face as he began to finger fuck her back passage and ease his thumb into her twitching wet snatch. He thumb-fucked her spurting pussy hard as his mouth settled back on her clit and he started to lick and suck the swollen pink nub of her sex. He took his time. A job as good as this did not deserve to be rushed after all.

He felt Skye's breaths quicken, and her cunt and anus tightened and released more urgently around his thrusting digits. Rayne licked her sex appreciatively. He loved the sharp, sweet taste of his sister's pussy and let his tongue flicker more rapidly back and forth over her twitching clit, burying his nose in her dark hair and breathing in the hot, tangy aroma of her aroused snatch. Rayne could feel her beginning to come. Skye bucked her hips up off the bed and gasped his name several times (along with a few other, darker, dirtier names) grinding her mound in his face urgently before her first massive, pulsating orgasm began to subside.

He knelt up once she stopped groaning and bucking. Skye moved to her knees awkwardly, leaning on him for support and bent her dark head wordlessly over his sexy eight-inch shaft. She rubbed the head gently over her breasts then took it in her mouth for several delicious minutes, sucking and licking it until he was almost ready to burst again. Rayne lay down on the bed, trembling with exertion and dehydration, but still rigid and needy as his beautiful, heavily pregnant sister pulled up her nightdress and straddled him with her tits and belly bared. He reached down between her legs, guiding the head of his aching cock to her dripping cunt. 

"You need your pussy waxing," he exhaled, licking the sharp, musky taste of her off his lips. "It's like snogging the bearded lady at the circus!"

"Cheeky fuck!" Skye laughed huskily. She was trying to reach down for him but could not easily grasp his cock around the fullness of her belly. "Have you ever tried to exfoliate with a stomach the size of a hot air balloon?"


And The Bride Wore White



"I'll do you, if you want," he whispered, letting his head fall back onto the soft caress of the rumpled duvet. His mouth and throat felt so parched that he thought he might die just lying here. Then Skye's sweet, tight cunt swallowed him up and he whimpered with helpless need as felt her snug, hot, wetness fold around his aching cock. 

"Ohhh... you'll do me all right," she panted, easing herself up and down steadily as she knelt astride him on the bed. "Jesus! When did my baby brother get such a fucking gorgeous big dick on him?"

"It's getting a lot of exercise," he teased. 

"Have you got a girlfriend yet?" she wanted to know. 

"Mmm-hmmm." Rayne winked at her, a playful smile twisting his boyish mouth. He ran his hands slowly up and down her naked thighs as she rocked her body back and forth, straddling his slim hips. 

"Apart from me?" Skye persisted. 

"You're just my bitch!" he purred, bucking his pelvis up off the bed to meet her grinding crotch. He flinched from the playful slap she dealt him. "I'm goin' out with this classy piece in London. Her name's Angelica. We're in a band together." 

"You should have brought her," Skye chided, not believing this for a moment. 

"I think she might have got a teensy bit jealous about this," her brother said darkly. His voice was low and tremulous, his pale eyes narrowed, never moving from the dark-furred junction of her thighs where she moved up and down on him more urgently now.  

SISTER FEELINGS:

"You like that, don't you?" Skye breathed, rubbing herself against his clean-shaven groin. He felt so good inside her that she never wanted this moment to stop. It was hard to believe it but her little brother had grown up, finally. He was still small and slight, physically, but the way he looked at her and touched her was all too adult. He knew what he wanted and right now this was only a part of it. 

Of course, from an early age he had known how to fuck a woman. Skye made damned sure of that. Their uncle Brian had tried to ruin him and he almost succeeded. Rayne had been a wreck when she went back to Dymchurch to find him; his self-confidence utterly destroyed. Skye was furious about that. Her younger brother had always been a livewire. He was such a free spirit as a child. Finding him shocked, sedated and psychologically broken had driven her into a protective rage. Unable to put her hands around Brian's neck and strangle him, since he was safely locked away in prison, she did the only thing she knew how to do; she wrapped Rayne up in her love and tried to coax him out of the nightmare he found himself trapped in. 

His social worker had warned that he was pathologically sexualised; the boundaries between appropriate and inappropriate behaviour were blurred by the events that had taken him over. On the brink of his sixteenth birthday he was beset by raging hormones, but frightened and utterly confused about his own sexuality. When he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into one of the best kisses of her life a few nights after her arrival back in the town of her birth, Skye did not try to stop him. It made him feel good and at that moment making Rayne feel better about himself had been her only priority. 

She shared his bed that night. It was more comfortable than the settee, even with her little brother's erect cock poking her in the side as he clung to her and explored her greedily. They held and touched but nothing more, even so he suffered pangs of guilt for it.

"This is wrong," he whispered to her at one point, his expression so wounded and soulful that she wanted to cry for him. "You make me so horny. I shouldn't feel this way about you."

"It doesn't matter," she promised him. "After what we went through, I think the rules can go hang!"

"You don't mind?" he queried, still so solemn-faced, although he did not weep. She had not seen him cry at all since her return. When he first opened the door to her, there was a brief shimmer of tears in his pale eyes, but he did not let her see them fall. 

These days he never cried. He had a steely resolve about him that eschewed tears. Skye sometimes wondered if it would be better if he 'could' let them flow. His pain was stored away somewhere deep inside him and he let it spill out in other ways. She had seen the scars on his hands and arms when she first went back home. They were more numerous today. Some of them were raw and sore-looking. She was glad that he had worn long sleeves last night. It would not do to have to field questions about her brother's tendency to hurt himself on the night before her wedding. 

She wanted to touch his arms but knew that he would pull away. Although he never kept what he did a secret from her, nor did he talk about it much. It was a private ritual, and she understood. After her abortion, she had stood naked before a mirror in the hostel room where she was living at the time and cut off all her waist-length, ebony hair. It felt like a sacrifice; a gift to appease god for the evil thing she had done. Although she could not bring herself to love the tiny creature Brian had planted in her womb, and she had not been raised in religious piety at all, she felt the enormity of the deed she had done. Her paternal grandmother was a devout, Irish Catholic; perhaps it was some echo of familial guilt trickling down through her genes. She could not have said. 

Rayne's guilt ran along different paths to her own. She knew that he blamed himself for their mother's suicide. He had taken her death particularly hard; in some ways that had been worse than the abuse for him. He felt that he had let her down and nothing anyone could say would change his mind. Skye had been her daddy's girl, his drinking broke her heart and she felt utterly betrayed by his refusal to stop, but Rayne adored their mum, even to the point of forgiving the unforgivable. She had not known until after they first made love that he had been aware of their mother's infidelity. When Dad was sober enough to work, he was often away from home for days at a time. Whilst he was gone, Mum was never lonely. Men often came around to the house and Lily would brazenly send the children out to play before taking her visitor upstairs to the bedroom. Skye had not been ignorant of what was going on up there. Rayne was only six or seven then and she presumed that it all washed over him. Only when he told her that he had caught Mum on the sofa one afternoon with Uncle Brian between her legs, did she realise just how much her angelic baby brother understood.

When Lily walked out on their Dad, neither of her children begged her to go back to him. Skye loved her father still, but she knew just how seriously his drinking was tearing the family apart. She also knew how much it ripped her mother to shreds to leave him. Lily had loved him dearly. But she had loved Brian Collinge long before she met Jimmy Wilde. Skye knew that she and her little brother had an older half-sibling, a brother they would never meet. Brian was older than Lily and, in a foreshadowing of Skye's own fate, she too had only been a girl when he got her pregnant for the first time. Mum had once told her, tearfully, how it had been too late for her to get rid of the child by the time she knew. Their Nanna Monksford had put Mum in a home for wayward girls to have her baby. It was adopted the day after the birth. She was forbidden to see Brian again. 

A few years afterwards she married their father. In a cruel twist of fate, Brian later married Lily's twin sister, their aunt Iris. Skye often wondered how different their lives would be now if that fateful union had never come to pass. When Mum fled to her sister's house with her two distraught children in tow, it set the wheels in motion. Skye was twelve years old when she discovered that Uncle Brian still liked them young. She had come home from school one day to find him waiting in the bedroom she shared with his seven-year-old twin daughters. No one else was home. He raped her that afternoon, on the bedroom floor.

Like Rayne had done, she kept it quiet. When she discovered she was pregnant, she was too embarrassed to speak to anyone. Her little brother knew the truth though. He walked with her to the bus stop the day she ran away from home, holding onto her hand all the time, begging her not to go. He never once told her that Brian had also been molesting him from the moment they moved in. After she left, the filthy pervert developed a taste for sodomy and Rayne bore the brunt of his unspeakable needs alone for the next two years.

Skye had inherited her mother's prodigious appetite for sex but unlike her brother she could not bring herself to forgive Lily for what she had done. Letting them fall into Brian's clutches was perhaps excusable. Skye told herself over and over that Mum could not have known what was going on. She would not have let it happen, of that her daughter had no doubts. It was in leaving Rayne to cope with the fallout alone that Mum had failed them. Skye had sworn to her brother that she would never turn her back on him, not even now, on the brink of matrimony. He was her true blood, her lover and her best friend, and she would always stand by him, just as he would always be there for her.

***

Rayne threw his head back, clenching his teeth furiously and groaning long and deep in his chest as she ground down hard on him. Her pussy was sopping wet and she could feel how close he was as she clenched and rode on his throbbing cock. Long, dark hair spilled around his girlishly pretty face as he bucked and writhed on the bed beneath her. His eyes were tightly closed, his lashes longer than her own. She experienced an irrational surge of jealousy at that, then the emotion was lost in a wild rush of pleasure that bubbled up from her loins into her swollen belly and tingled in the stiff buds of her nipples. Skye pressed herself down hard on his thrusting crotch, holding there, her cunt tightening around his twitching erection as the orgasm whiplashed through her body. She uttered a little whining mewl of ecstasy as she felt him force himself up into her and loose his spill of hot seed deep inside her, thrashing like a wounded animal between her legs. His groan became an open-mouthed cry of supplication as he spurted hard within her, long, white fingers tight around her slim thighs. 

She wanted to collapse onto him, to feel him panting in gratified astonishment in her arms, and cursed her huge tummy silently. Instead she tumbled sideways onto the bed and he moved with her, lithe and quick as she slipped off him, parting her legs and moving between them. His mouth roamed over her sweaty neck and breasts, kissing and licking breathlessly. 

"Mmmmhhh, you taste so good," he murmured appreciatively. 

"Did my baby like that?" she purred. 

"I dunno. Shall we ask him?" Rayne wriggled down between her legs and put his lips to her gaping snatch, ticking her with his tongue. "Hellooo... can you hear me you little bastard? What did you think of that then?"

"Hey! My child is not a bastard!" Skye pressed her thighs together around his head, trapping him there. 

Unfazed he carried on lapping and nibbling at her clitoris, nuzzling her soft, dark, furry mound until she relaxed her legs and let him move to his knees between them. 

"You are so beautiful," he whispered, bending to kiss her belly. His gaze was fathomless, lost beyond his long, black lashes and cascading ebony hair. "I wish you were having my baby, Skye. I wish I was the one marrying you and getting to spend every night between your legs. I can't get enough of you. Jack's crazy if he can keep his hands off you for seven fucking months!"

"He's not like us," she said defensively. 

He lifted his dark head and looked solemnly at her, his eyes as bright as jewels. 

"No one is," he told her with a strange, slightly mad little smile. "I love you, Skye. I love you so much!"

"I love you too, stupid!" she said affectionately, reaching for him but unable to touch him past her swollen belly. 

He took her hands and held them as he stroked the head of his semi-erect cock up and down her leaking slit. She caught her breath as he found his target and eased it into her slowly again. 

"You are 'so' insatiable!"

"You love it! Admit it!" Rayne flashed an incendiary smile at her and she let her legs open wider for him in silent acknowledgement of the truth. 

Rayne released her hands and leaned forward over her, bracing his palms in the duvet to either side of her bulging midriff. He began to pulse steadily in and out, glancing up at her with a breathless, dazzling smile from time to time as he quickened his thrusts. Skye lay back on the bed, letting him have his way. He knew how to satisfy her and she trusted him not to do anything stupid. 

"Mmmhhh, you are so good," he cooed, pumping her harder; leaning back to slide his hands beneath her knees and lifting her legs. "Such a dirty girl, Skye Ann Wilde. What if hubby could see you now? Having it off with another man on your wedding day!"

"Are you complaining?" she panted, tugging at her night-dress, which was irritating her by sticking to her perspiring body. 

"Ohhh... no-no-no-no!" Rayne crooned, breathing harder as he hoisted her ankles up over his shoulders and gripped her curvaceous hips, rutting eagerly with her. "I just wondered if he'd be up for both of us tonight?"

"Rayne!" she protested, laughing at the idea of it. 

"Well... if he's afraid to touch you, maybe he'd get horny watching me fucking you," her brother giggled. "Then of course he'd need a fuck and he'd have no choice but to get it up me, being as how he won't poke you and I'm so adorable!" He winked at her playfully. "And we'd be shagging so hard that my dick would get stiff again in no time. So you'd get horny again watching him bum me. And then you'd have to fuck me as well because I know how much it turns you on watching your boyfriends doing it with me..."

"I do not know what gives you that idea!" Skye squealed hysterically. 

"So you didn't get all hot and wet that time I came up to Aber and that big-cocked blond piece you were bedding had it off with me in front of you?" He winked at her knowingly. 

"Umm..." Skye said evasively. 

"Thought so," Rayne murmured with another grin. "He was hot stuff, though! What was he called? Aaron, was it? He was so freaked out when he came in the room and you were riding me, naked on the bed. He settled down once I'd sucked his cock, though, didn't he?"

Skye laughed at the memory of it. Rayne had hitch-hiked all the way up from London to Aberystwyth because he was missing her. She hadn't told him she had a boyfriend. Aaron was twenty three, an engineering student from Bristol. It had given him quite a start to find her in bed with her baby brother that hot afternoon but she knew that Aaron was bi and after a little encouragement he was soon stripped off and getting very intimate with Rayne. The two boys sucked one another for a while as she watched, then Rayne got back into the 69 with her, crouched over her on the bed eating her pussy while she sucked him off. Aaron knelt by her head and she alternated between her brother and her boyfriend for a time, sucking greedily on them both. Rayne mounted her whilst she was giving Aaron head and began to fuck her hard. After a little while of this, the blond man rose and knelt on the mattress behind Skye's sexy sibling, thrusting his well-sucked meat into the teenager's tight anus. Rayne spurted twice in his sister's cunt whilst her boyfriend was rodding him. 

"I think you liked Aaron more than I did, didn't you?" she huffed excitedly now as he leaned back, letting his sex almost slip out of her pussy. His gaze was fixed on her snatch as he slowed the pace of their frantic lovemaking. 

"He was all right," Rayne conceded rather magnanimously. "You know when he ran me back to Swindon to get the train though...? He didn't take me to Swindon, we went back to Bristol and he took me to a friend's house. We dropped some acid and I went to bed with his friend and sucked his cock. Aaron came and joined us later and I let both of them do my arse."

"You never told me that!" she squeaked. 

"I thought you'd be jealous," he said with a wry smile, slowly easing his cock deep inside her again. "I got the impression Aaron normally let the guy bum him. It was good sex though. Aaron walked me to Bristol station in the morning and bought me a ticket. He said his friend paid for it in return for the fuck. He couldn't keep his hands off me. I got shagged raw in a toilet cubicle before my train came; leaning against the wall with my pants down and his big hot knob rammed up my arse."

Rayne lowered his head, grinning eagerly, pulsing in and out of his sister's juicy cunt with increased enthusiasm. 

"You dirty little sod, Rayne Wilde!" Skye gasped, visibly aroused by his confession. She was humping herself on his cock at the same time. 

"That's not the end of it," her brother whispered, closing his eyes and tilting his head back as he got closer to his release. "When I got on the train this guy in a suit was sitting opposite. Once we were moving he leaned forward and put his hand on my knee. He said he'd been in the gents when I was in there with my boyfriend and the sound of us having fun had really turned him on. It was quiet in our part of the train and he came and sat next to me then and asked me to tell him what Aaron did to me in the toilet to make me so excited. He put his hand between my legs and stroked me while I was telling him, then he undid my pants and rubbed my cock until I was hard." Rayne drew in a shuddering breath and pulsed faster. "He said then that he would give me twenty pounds if I would jerk myself off while he watched. I said okay, so he gave me the cash. He put his arm around me and I closed my eyes and started rubbing my cock. He took his dick out and stroked it while I was doing myself. When I started to come he bent over me quick and took my cock head in his mouth until I'd shot my load. Then he asked me if I would kneel on the floor and suck him. I told him it would cost another twenty-five so he coppered up. I went down on him and as soon as he was in my mouth he came. He didn't lose his boner so I carried on sucking him for about five minutes until he shot his load again. He had a nice thick cock. I licked all the cream off it after he'd squirted." 

Skye started to climax as he spoke of giving oral relief to a stranger. Although she would never admit it to him the idea did get her intensely aroused. Rayne pumped her harder then eased out and parted her cheeks, panting rapidly. She moaned a little as he slowly probed and penetrated her rear passage with his fingers. 

"I got back in my seat but he was still horny," he gasped now, as he rubbed the mingled cum and wetness from her pussy down over her puckered anus with the head of his stiff young cock. Slowly he urged his member into her tight, pink arsehole. "He was looking at me and I said 'You want some more, don't you?' He nodded and said he wanted to bum me, so we went to the bog and he pulled my pants down. He said 'I've no more money' and I was feeling randy so I said 'It doesn't matter as long as you make me come.' So he pushed me up against the wall and fucked the arse off me." 

Rayne pumped her deep and hard as if to demonstrate. Skye moaned and lifted her knees higher, easing herself up and down on his cock until he spent his seed in her with a long moan of relief. 

"Did you come?" Skye asked breathlessly. She was writhing on the bed, imagining herself in her brother's place on the swaying, jolting train as a vigorous stranger violated her arse. Rayne's eight-inch cock was still hard inside her. 

"Like a rocket!" Rayne laughed, shaking his sweat-soaked hair. "Then and just now! He had such a hard-on for me. We did it three times at finish. I could hardly stand up for shaking when he finally pulled his knob out of my arse. He asked me did I live in London and I said no, so he asked could he have my phone number so he could ring me and arrange to meet me for sex some time."




And The Bride Wore White



"What did you say?" she asked, wide-eyed and breathless.

"I told him the truth, we 'aven't got a phone." Rayne laughed weakly. "Then he asked where I lived and could he come round and see me? So I said my Dad probably wouldn't be too happy and he asked how old I was. I think that freaked him out a bit, he told me he had two daughters, one a year older and one a year younger than me, and a son who was fourteen. I asked how he'd feel if someone his age was meeting up with one of them for a fuck. He was a bit quiet after that."

He was kneeling over her, shaking a little, his head down and his breath coming in short, rapid bursts. Skye tried to reach towards him, wanting to hold him for a little while. She felt loose and wet inside and he was visibly exhausted.

"Are you okay?" she whispered. 

"Mmhh..." he nodded, then shook his head a little. "I feel sick. I need some water."

"Fetch my razor and some shaving gel if you're going to the bathroom!" she called as he rolled weakly off the bed and stumbled to the door, clutching his head in one hand. "And don't puke on the carpets, we've just had them cleaned!"

***

He doubled up over the toilet bowl in the main bathroom and vomited until his guts were aching. His head was thumping uncontrollably now and he just wanted to lie down on the bathroom floor and die. How could Skye be marrying that useless tosser, Jack? She had already complained, when she told her little brother in intimate detail about the night he got her pregnant, that he wasn't in her for more than a handful of minutes. Skye was going to get so bored with him. He sank to his knees and wrapped his arms around the bowl, resting his brow across the backs of his forearms and retching violently. 

Fucking champagne! He was such an idiot for drinking so much of that crap last night. At this rate he would still be puking in the bushes when Skye walked up the aisle. 

When his gag reflex slowed at last, he managed to stagger to the basin and put his face under the cold tap for a few minutes. The water he gulped down helped and he felt less dizzy as he slumped onto the floor and sat for a while with his pants undone and his knees drawn up, his head resting in his arms once more. Cold water dripped from his collar and the ragged ends of his shoulder length, black hair. He concentrated on breathing slowly, until his head stopped spinning. Only then did he force himself back onto his feet. Methodically he flushed the loo and splashed his face again, then borrowed a toothbrush and scrubbed his teeth until his gums bled. 

His reflection stared back at him out of the mirror, ashen and gaunt. His eyes were red-rimmed, icy piss-holes in the snow and he too needed a shave. Long, lank hair hung around his drawn, colourless face. The shadows beneath his eyes almost swallowed them in until they were lost. 

There was a twist of cocaine in his left, front pants pocket. He knew it was there but he was trying to keep from thinking about it. Jeli had given it to him the night before last when he told her that he was going home for the weekend. She had given him more than that, too. His cock still ached at the memory of her tight, hairless snatch slamming down hard on him as she pushed herself to climax after climax, straddling him on the rumpled bed. Then she had moved onto her hands and knees for him, moaning eagerly as he pulsed into her arsehole from behind, pumping his long, clever fingers deep into her well fucked pussy, bringing his dirty girl to orgasm again as he emptied his balls into her. 

Rayne undid the tiny foil twist and dipped the tip of his little finger into it, rubbing the residue around his gums vigorously, then tucking the remainder back into his pocket for later. He clung to the edge of the basin as the coke kicked in, straightening his head in just a few minutes. Then he had another drink and hunted out the shaving things and a couple of towels. 

***

Skye wriggled appreciatively on one of the towels, naked now, and blooming beautifully. He stroked her tummy with one hand then carefully applied the foaming gel to her slender legs and shamelessly exposed pussy. Carefully, her little brother stroked the blades over her soft skin, taking his time, shaving her legs very slowly and wiping the razor on the other towel after each stroke. 

"Oh... that feels good," Skye cooed at him. "Such a relief."

He deliberately left her arse and pussy until last, making her crouch on the towel before him with her bottom raised and her legs spread. Carefully he applied more gel until her crack and mound were wreathed in white foam, then let the razor glide in light, short touches all down her exposed pelvis and between her cheeks, delicately tickling the puffy lips of her sweet wet cunt with the sharp blades. He kept his thumb over her clit whilst he shaved around the head of her sex, then pushed it into her slit as he slowly exfoliated her mound, lying beneath her like a mechanic under a car, watching intently as he removed every last tuft of hair. Finally, he washed her gently between her legs with a wet towel and pulled her smooth, warm, wetness down onto his face. Skye panted as he licked her out; a devotee, worshipping at the silky altar of her pale, hairless cunt.

"Now whose whiskers tickle?" she teased him, kneeling back to wriggle her pussy in his face. "Go and shave yourself. And have a shower! And get dad up, the cars are coming at eleven thirty."

"You are 'so' ungrateful!" he told her with a little sneer. 

"I'll be grateful later. Now go and get ready!" she insisted in a tone of voice that he remembered mum using. It meant, 'no arguments'. 

"As my lady commands," Rayne sighed, wriggling out from between her legs and scooping up the towels and shaving equipment. 

MEET THE RELATIVES:

He had just finished in the shower and managed to shave himself without cutting his face to ribbons on the unfamiliar blade, when the doorbell rang. Skye's voice echoed down the corridor from the en-suite in her own room. 

"Go and get that, it'll be Madeline!"

Dressed in just a bath towel, he padded down obediently to the front hall and opened the door. Madeline Powers was his sister's neighbour-to-be and she had charged herself with the preparation of the bride in the absence of their mother. A big, enthusiastic, florid faced woman of middle years, she was still somehow less countrified than Jack's relatives. Rayne had met her briefly before last night's party and decided then that she was the lesser of two evils. This morning he was less sure. 

"Come along, chop-chop!" she harried him, the moment the door was open. "Is the bride up and about yet? We've only got a couple of hours to get her ready you know!"

"She's having a bath," Rayne said with a wan smile, as she bustled past him, armed with boxes of flowers and a mobile phone like a housebrick in one plump hand. 

Madeline looked him up and down, utterly unabashed. 

"Not much of you, is there?" she said at last. 

"It's always been enough," Rayne told her with a shrug, and shut the door, directing her up to the bedroom, although he suspected that she knew her way. 

It took a superhuman effort and two pots of coffee to get dad up and moving. He debated giving the old bugger some of the coke in his pocket but his father had a dodgy heart, along with a failing liver and lungs you could dry out and use as cut-price doilies. Rayne decided against it. Besides, he might need it later. 

Whilst dad was in the shower, he gelled and blow-dried his hair in Skye's room, hoping that the smell of sex was not as obvious to Madeline as it was to him. He had pulled on a black shirt with a silver pinstripe that was a size too big for him, and a pair of charcoal-grey-metallic suit pants. He had bought the double-breasted suit for five pounds on the Portobello Road Market last week. Angelica paid to get it cleaned for him and coupled with a silver coloured silk tie that had belonged to one of dad's brothers, he thought it looked quite dashing. He styled his hair into a floppy quiff and borrowed some foundation from his sister to hide the dark rings under his eyes, before running a black kohl pencil around the insides and smearing a little silvery glitter across the upper lids. Finally he painted his lips with a shimmering, translucent gloss and pulled on his best black boots, a slightly worn pair of snakeskin-effect Cubans that he had bought in Folkestone when he was fifteen and loved to death.

***

"What do you look like?" Jack's sister Catherine exclaimed when she arrived with three of the bridesmaids; Jack's niece Amy, his youngest sister Arabella and Gemma who was the groom's cousin. 

Rayne smirked at her back as she struggled in with the long boxes containing the dresses. Arabella and Gemma who were both in their mid to late teens cast glances at him and giggled as they followed her in. Clearly they did not share their relative's disdain. He winked at them and closed the door. 

Ten year old Amy rushed off to find Skye but the other two lurked in the front parlour for a while, swapping make-up tips and listening to music whilst Catherine tried to organise them all. Rayne wandered out for a cigarette whilst dad was still in the bathroom. He was out front when a taxi pulled up and disgorged his cousin Mickey's wife, Sharon and their two eldest children Katie and Stephen who were also to be bridesmaid and pageboy, plus four year old Louise, the daughter of his other cousin Ted. 

"Are we late?" asked Sharon cheerfully, rummaging in a huge floral handbag for money to pay the cab. 

"You might be cuttin' it fine, I think we've only got about two hours!" Rayne quipped sardonically. 

Sharon beamed at him and shook her head. 

"You getting' it in the neck this mornin', babe?" she asked as they walked back to the house together. 

"Naw... Skye's fine. It's everybody else that's a pain in the arse," he grinned at her. 

"Give us a pull of yer fag, I'm gaspin'," Sharon pleaded before they went in. He let her finish it. 

***

"Are you Skye's brother?" 

One of the teenagers sidled up to him as Sharon took the kids inside. She was a little smaller than him, with reddish blonde bangs curled around her pretty face in a bob and big blue eyes framed by blue-mascaraed lashes. Her sidekick lingered just inside the door, getting in the way and pulling on her long, pale pigtails. They were both dressed in skinny-fit tee shirts and tight, diamante patterned jeans. Neither was wearing a bra although the pig-tailed girl needed to, he thought idly. 

"Yeah," he said, leaning against the wall that ran up the side of the steps to the house. 

"Thought so," the red-head remarked in her broad, Dorsetshire accent, blowing a chewing gum bubble at him. When it burst she swept it deftly back into her mouth with her tongue and added; "She said you were dead fit."

'Good girl, Skye-Ann!' he thought with a grin. 

"Have you got a girlfriend?" she asked him boldly. 

"Yeah. She's not come with me though," he revealed strategically.

"So you're all on your own?" She blew another bubble. 

"Yeah." He pushed his hands into his pockets and studied the driveway as if he was waiting for someone. "What's your name?"

"Arabella," she told him. "But everybody calls me Bells. You're Rayne, aren't you? That's a pretty name. Like Skye's. Your mum and dad must have been really int'resting."

"Thanks." He eyed her perky tits again, deciding to take this odd remark as a compliment. '32 B' he decided with a little smile. "Was that your mum you came in with?"

She spat out her chewing gum in disgust. 

"No-o!" 

On the doorstep the blonde girl giggled again. Arabella shook her copper-coloured bangs in denial. 

"Cath's my oldest sister."

Rayne did a double take. He pushed himself upright at once to hide the bulge in his pants. 

"You're Jack's little sister? Fuck!"

"Yeah," she grinned at him, "That's Gemma, his cousin," she added, pointing at the blonde, who was closer to a C cup although she was quite slim-waisted. "We're Skye's bridesmaids."

"I thought you 'ad to be a virgin to be a bridesmaid," he came back, quick as a flash. 

"You cheeky bugger! You saying I'm not a virgin?" Bells put both fists on her slim hips and glared at him, although there was a spark of humour in her blue eyes now. 

"I bet you're not!" he teased. 

"I bloody am!" She looked up boldly at him with a little smile on the cupid's bow of her painted lips. "But I tell you what, I'd let you take me upstairs after the wedding if you wanted to."

'Little hussy!' he thought appreciatively. 

"Only if you let me take you the back way afterwards," he said with a grin. 

"You dirty bugger!" Bells laughed at him and shook her head again. 

"Come on, you know you like it," Rayne murmured, wandering around her, back towards the door. 

"You're lookin' at my tits aren't you, you dirty bastard?" she exclaimed forcefully. 

"That's because they're very tasty lookin' tits and you're pushin' 'em in my face, sweetheart," he commented wryly. "In fact, if you keep on bouncing them in front of me like that I'm gonna pull your top right up out here and suck those stiff little nips for you. Cop myself a nice feel, yeah!"

Her mouth fell open and she blushed furiously but there was a definite gleam in her eyes now. Rayne licked his lips. It seemed there was hope for Skye after all, frigidity certainly did not run in the family. He glanced over to the doorway; "What about you, Gems? You fancy a hot little threesome later?"

The blonde girl gasped and giggled some more, then glanced over her shoulder and fled back into the house. He was about to follow when Arabella's older sister reappeared in the doorway and gave him a very suspicious look. 

"Bella, inside, now!" she snapped. "We've no time for messing around this morning!"

Bells slouched past her into the house but glanced back at Rayne once before she vanished, a smouldering look in her wide blue eyes. Catherine pointed a finger at Rayne and said; "I know your type. Keep you hands off her or there'll be trouble."

"I never touched her!" Rayne exclaimed incredulously. "She was chattin' me up!"

"I don't care who was doing what. Keep your hands to yourself. Don't talk to her, don't look at her!" The cobalt stare that fixed him was a colder, harder version of Bella's smoking gaze. Rayne met and fielded it with a scowl of his own but before he could open his mouth to retaliate she had turned back into the house. 

"Tight arsed old witch!" he muttered, fishing another cigarette from the breast pocket of his jacket and lighting it up. 

AN EMOTIONAL MOMENT:

Dad was out of the bath and wrestling with his cufflinks when Rayne came back up to the bedroom. His old man had managed to have a shave without drawing blood and make himself look fairly presentable for once. He was sitting in front of the big mirror on the dressing table, having combed his salt and pepper locks this way and that without persuading his hair to lie flat. There was a bewildered look on his face when his son wandered into the room and leaned in the doorway watching him working on his shirt cuffs. 

"Used to be able to do this with me eyes shut," he remarked gruffly. 

"They're fiddly," Rayne conceded in a quiet voice. "You wanna hand?"

Jimmy nodded at once and he came and sat on the edge of the bed beside his father, feeding the stem of the cufflink through the buttonholes in dad's best shirt. His father sat as still as a child warned to be on his best behaviour. 

"You seen Skye this morning?" he asked at last. 

"Mmmhmmm." Rayne nodded without looking up. 

"She okay?" 

"Yeah. She's good." He lifted his head, meeting his father's pale, china-blue eyes almost warily. He wondered how much Jimmy remembered about last night and did not want to be the one to bring the matter up. 

"Shame your mother couldn't be here. She'd have loved today," Dad said wistfully. "Our little girl, all grown up, about to start a family of her own."

Rayne lowered his eyes to his father's shirt cuffs again, twisting the bar on one of the cufflinks so hard that it almost snapped. He said nothing. 

"I dreamed she was here last night," Jimmy warbled happily, lost in a private reminiscence. "I reckon she's around somewhere, in spirit at least."

"Let me do somethin' with your hair," Rayne told him neutrally, rising to his feet. "Skye'll do her nut if you walk her up the aisle lookin' like a scarecrow."

His dad glanced up at him almost gratefully. 

"Dunno how you get yours to stay in one place like that," he remarked with a shake of his head. "We 'ad Brylcreem in my day but you 'ardly see that now do you?"

Rayne gelled his thick, silvery hair in silence. His Dad was so grey. He couldn't remember when his father's dense, reddish black mane had begun to fade. Jimmy Wilde was only forty two; it was no age really, but he seemed like an old man all of a sudden. Rayne felt as if he had closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again everything had moved on. Skye was grown up and about to leave him for another man. Dad was an old geezer and Mum...

He felt the nausea well up before he was able to stop it. Rayne stumbled away, putting a hand to his mouth, his nostrils full of the sweet, sticky scent of gel and vomit. Madeline poked her head into the room as he crashed into the wardrobe's mirrored door and dry-heaved into his cupped hands. 

"Oh dear," she said solemnly. "Seven years bad luck, that is! I'll fetch a bucket and some cloths."

At some point he remembered looking up and seeing Skye standing in the doorway looking like an angel. A furious, fecund angel! She was wearing a silk flapper dress in pearl white, with little strings of tiny pearls hanging down from the short skirt in an inverted V pattern. The lowest beads were hanging almost to mid-calf, the highest just above her knees. The ribbon shoulder straps were embroidered with silver thread and more tiny pearls as were the edges of the cups around her full, firm breasts. The pale material hugged her swollen tummy without pulling tight. Her black hair was pulled up at the back of her head, hanging down in little wisps, held in place with a pearl-encrusted clasp in the shape of a butterfly. Small, strappy, silver and white, open-toed sandals with a three-inch kitten heel, adorned her feet. Her finger and toenails were elegantly French manicured. 

Behind her in the hallway he could hear the younger girls giggling. Skye, however was visibly not amused. 

"Idiot!" she hissed. "What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can't you just be sensible for one day in your life?"

"Don't blame me! Blame fuckin' Sylvia! She got me pissed," Rayne protested. "I'll get the mirror fixed, I promise."

"Do you realise how old that thing is? It was Jack's great-grandmother's," she berated him. "How could you? How 'could' you break a fucking mirror on my wedding day?"

He heard the tears behind her voice and struggled to his feet to calm her. 

"Don't cry, Skye-Ann. You'll ruin your make-up."

"Don't touch me," she snapped back at him, pushing his hands away; ignoring the hurt in his eyes. "Get cleaned up and get to the god-damned church! And so help you, when that vicar asks if anyone has just cause or impediment, if you so much as put your hand up to pick your fucking nose, I'll kill you!"

***

He locked himself in the bathroom once she had stalked back to her bedroom to finish getting ready. Dad tried to talk to him but his ears were buzzing. He felt sick and exhausted, totally furious with himself and with her and with everyone. His hands shook as he brushed his teeth again and tried to keep some water down. When that failed he unwrapped the twist of coke and snorted a little dab of powder off his fingertip into each nostril. That stopped the shaking and he was able to tidy himself up, before the cars arrived. 




And The Bride Wore White



Dad was already waiting with Skye in the front parlour. He tried to get in to see her and apologise but she wouldn't talk to him and Catherine hounded him out to the first of the cars with the bridesmaids before he could begin to protest. 

"Don't make this any more of a scene than it already is," she warned him with narrow eyes as the girls watched the exchange avariciously. 

Cousin Sharon was already in the car with the little ones and Amy, who was already bonding with Sharon's daughter Katie. Bells and Gemma hovered by the rear door in their long, lilac metallic frocks, eager for some aggro. 

"What do you mean by that?" he half-turned, an incredulous sneer curling his lip. 

"You know damned well," Jack's older sister snapped at him. "Bad enough that she's going to show up at the church looking like a harlot, without you making a scene about it."

Rayne slapped her hard. It was done before he even thought about it. Her right cheek flared scarlet where he had hit her. He heard the two older girls suck in little hisses of astounded admiration just behind him, then Catherine slapped him back with interest. 

"Get In The Car!" she growled. 

Bells and Gemma scurried to obey. Rayne stumbled back from her but his eyes were blazing as he put out a hand to steady himself. 

"You evil old bitch! You think she got herself pregnant, do you? She pinned your defenceless little brother to the bed and raped him, did she?" He could feel the fury rising like a fire inside him. Jack's family had been patronising them since they got here and now they were going to get a few home truths, whether they liked it or not. "Believe me, darlin'... if I could talk her out of this I would. Why should she get shackled to a boring, pompous, shrimp-dick like your precious brother, just because he was stupid enough to get her knocked up in the first place? You are jealous because she is a gorgeous, vivacious, stunningly hot young woman and you are just a shrivelled, miserable old shrew with a mouth like a pensioner's arsehole!"

He only realised that he was shouting when Sharon caught hold of him and pulled him away, pressing her hand gently but firmly to his mouth and murmuring; "That's enough, Ray. Just let it go. You'll only make it worse."

"She's a bitch," he protested, feeling as helpless as a child again. 

"Yeah," Sharon nodded. "But she's gonna be Skye's sister, for better or worse. Do you really want to make it worse?" 

"Shit!" he exhaled, letting some of the fight seep out of him as Sharon steered him firmly into the long, white car. "She asked for it though. She just about called Skye a whore."

"Yeah, I heard her," his cousin whispered, putting her arm around him. "She'll pay for that one, Ray. Just... don't fuck Skye's day up any more, okay? Let's just get to the church."

He glanced at her dejectedly and heaved a little sigh but nodded his head. "Okay."

THE BRIDE WORE WHITE:

The sky was turning black over the country church on the outskirts of Dorchester as they pulled onto the long, shingle drive. Rayne took it as an omen and was correspondingly gloomy as he scrambled out of the car with the bridesmaids. Sharon and Catherine were sneaking dirty looks at one another but there were other relatives to attend to and they quickly split off into their separate camps and vanished into the church. Rayne hovered in the doorway, unwilling to follow them after the events of this morning. Just as he was contemplating another cigarette, a small, cold hand touched his cheek, turning his head. 

Arabella stood on tiptoe and kissed him quickly and hungrily on the mouth. As she let him go and made as if to flee back inside, he caught her hand. 

"What was that for?"

Bells grinned at him fiercely. 

"That was for standing up to my bitch of a sister back there. She's had a bug in her arse about this wedding since day one. For the record, I think Skye's totally cool! She's really pretty as well. Jack's lucky to have her."

She pulled at his hand but he did not let her go right away. Instead he moved her back against the wall within the porch, bending his head and touching his mouth to hers more tenderly. His hands released hers now and moved to cup her breasts as he kissed her. She put her arms around his neck and pulled him against her for a few brief, frantic moments, then pushed him away as they heard the crunch of tyres on the shingle. 

"Car's coming!" she huffed into his mouth, scuttling off to wait on the step for the bride to arrive. 

Rayne watched her for a moment with a little smile on his lips, glad of the loose fit of his suit pants. He was furiously horny again and slunk into the church as the car pulled up, not wanting to see Skye whilst he was feeling like this. 

The family was well represented in church. His Nanna Wilde had come down from Lancashire with Uncle Joe and Dad's other brothers were all here with their wives and a decent sprinkling of their kids and grandkids as well. His uncle Terry's wife Shirley waved her hand at him and he wriggled along their pew to sit with them. Shirl, a vivacious, peroxide blonde Londoner, was Terry's second wife but after his Mum had died she was like a surrogate mother to Rayne. Colin, her eldest son from her first marriage was virtually the same age as Rayne and they got on famously. Col was here today with his glamorous Brazilian girlfriend Carmel and their three-month-old son, Raphael. His younger brother Stewie was here as well with his girlfriend Lisa. 

A couple of pews in front, Nanna May Monksford sat straight as a ramrod with Grandpa Raymonde. Rayne was astonished to see them here. His Mum's mother had not spoken to the family since Brian's court case. She took Aunt Iris's side and the Wilde clan virtually excommunicated her for it. Skye must have invited her though. It was like Skye Ann; she had always been fond of her Nanna May as a child. Rayne found the old woman a bit too stiff and proper. Like his Mum, he preferred to be a little bit wild and eccentric. Nanna May could never get her head around that. She thought they were being deliberately wilful to upset her most of the time. She had convinced herself that Rayne had lied about Brian raping him and blamed him single-handedly for the subsequent events. Nor did she approve of Jimmy, who had never been good enough for her little girl. Rayne would not forgive her for that, not even for Skye's sake.

Shirl must have seen his hackles rise for she prodded Rayne gently in the side to pull his cold, unblinking gaze from the back of his maternal grandmother's head. 

"Leave it," she whispered. "The old cow'll be dead soon!"

He laughed quietly at that in spite of his emotions. Shirley always knew how to bring him back down to earth. Before too long he and Colin were whispering and joking together like they had never been apart. He had not seen Col for about two years but it was as if they had not been parted. And then the organist stopped playing swirling background music and piped up the dreaded intro to Here Comes The Bride. Rayne felt his stomach turn over and closed his eyes, praying that he would not be sick now. He could not watch her walk down the aisle though he almost felt her looking for him as she came by. Col put a hand on his arm and whispered; "Christ, I didn't know she was that far gone!"

He forced himself to look up, to be strong for her. Jack was standing at the head of the aisle, before the altar with his best man, Nigel. Rayne had been introduced to Jack's friends the other night and thought most of them were idiots, but Nigel was a prize-winning idiot; an original chinless wonder without a single coherent thought in his head beyond the stock market and finding a wife. Since he had got himself so drunk last night that he even tried to chat Rayne up at one point, the latter goal seemed a fairly elusive one. Jack at least was a decent looking bloke; nothing to write home about but he was neither ugly, nor weedy and he did at least have a chin! Hopefully, Skye's baby would take after its mother, he thought uncharitably. 

Dad was looking proudly at his daughter as he walked her to the altar and in that moment Skye looked as radiant as he had ever seen her. A little patch of sunlight forced its way through the clouds and lanced down through the diamond panes of glass in the high, arched windows, illuminating her shimmering, white veil and the little gems and pearls on her dress. Rayne ached to hold her and apologise for upsetting her this morning. His ears tuned out the drone of the vicar as the service got under way. When they said their 'I do's he felt so dizzy that he thought he would pass out but by digging his nails into the palms of his hands he kept himself from causing further embarrassment. 

Bells kept glancing back at him with a little smile on her face, rocking back and forth on her low heels. The older girls wore simple full-length sheath dresses that hugged their figures seductively and he found himself watching the curve of her hips and her bottom. Little blonde Gemma was transformed from a duckling into a swan by her gown. Her fair hair had been scooped up like Skye's and pinned so that it fell in little silver tresses and she was made up beautifully. Someone had tucked and hooked her into some decent underwear and her full breasts were gloriously plump and high beneath her clinging dress. Bells' hair was like a little golden halo and her leaner body was that of a saucy nymph. He already knew from the quick furtive grope in the portico that she was still braless under the gown and looked forward to peeling off her shiny wrapper later on and discovering whether her stiff nipples were pink and virginal and the fuzz of down on her pubic mound was as soft and golden as the stuff on her head. 

His cock pressed against the crotch of his pants, demanding attention and as soon as the final hymns were sung, he wriggled out of the restrictive warmth of the little church and escaped into the graveyard to inhale some nicotine. A short walk took him down behind the church and he discovered a family grave down there with a commemorative stone laid out flat on six short, solid pillars like a table. Rayne perched on the lip of it, then lay down like a corpse, stretched out on his back. He sucked the smoke down into his lungs and stared up into the cool shadows of the yew trees, letting his left hand slide furtively into his trouser pocket. 

He had discovered on purchasing the suit that there were no linings left in the pockets of his pants, although this was of little concern to him at the time. It was a positive godsend now as it meant he could take a firm hold of his throbbing cock without having to unzip his fly. With a little moan of relief he enjoyed a discreet wank whilst he finished his cigarette, eyes closed and lips slightly parted. So it was that he did not even know he had an audience until a quiet, light tenor voice remarked; "You look like you could use another hand there."

Rayne started violently, his hand flying from his pocket as he pushed himself into a sitting position, panting rapidly. The young curate who had welcomed them all into the church was looking down on him now with a mischievous smile. He had light, red-brown curls and golden hazel eyes in a boyish face that could have been any age between eighteen and thirty. He moved closer now, glancing over his shoulder before he came to sit next to Rayne. 

"It's all right. I won't tell anyone," he said in that same soft, even voice. "Carry on. I want to watch you. Take it out. I'll watch out for anyone coming."

Rayne stared at him in disbelief. The curate grinned back at him.

"Are you shy? You shouldn't be. You're gorgeous." He stroked Rayne's leg encouragingly. "Come on. Quickly, get it out before they come outside for the photographs."

"Should you be doing stuff like this?" Rayne asked him warily, unzipping his pants and lying back, never taking his eyes off the young curate. His need for relief was overcoming his surprise now. He saw the other man sigh with pleasure as he pulled his erect cock out of his pants and tugged on it vigorously. 

"Probably not," the other man said with a shrug. "You looked so delicious though, I couldn't resist following you. And when you started tossing yourself off..." He pulled up his loose robe and flashed his hard prick which was hanging out of his open jeans fly underneath. "Well I had to have a stroke! Can I have a pull on your ciggie?"

Rayne grinned helplessly. There was something so desperate, yet comical about the curate that he could not resist it. He passed the young man his half smoked fag and reached into his robe, stroking his cock for him as he sucked on the filter. 

"Oohh... that's better!" the young man exhaled, sounding massively relieved. "Are you related to the lovely bride? You look like her."

"She's my sister," Rayne told him, rubbing the curate's spongy cock head steadily between his thumb and fingers, eliciting little whimpers of pleasure from his lips. 

"You're both very easy on the eye," the other man huffed excitedly, gripping Rayne's dick and pumping it quickly. "How old are you?"

"I'm... I'm nineteen, she's twenty one," he gasped as the curate began to masturbate him skilfully. "Uhhh... god that's good!"

"Tell me when you're ready to come," his companion panted. "Have you ever had sex with a man?"

"Uhh-huh." Rayne nodded, then wriggled urgently. It felt so good letting someone else wank him. 

"Did you like it?" The hand on his dick moved faster and harder. 

Another nod was the answer. The curate sighed with pleasure, lying back on the stone beside him. 

"Do you give head?" he asked huskily. 

"Mmmhh... yeah!" Rayne nodded quickly. "Do you want some?"

The warm hand in his rumpled hair was answer enough. Rayne leaned over the other man and wrapped his hot wet mouth around the curate's stiff seven inch rod. The hand on his knob pumped harder and the other man towed Rayne's leaking head to his lips as they squirmed around to lie head to tail on the gravestone. The curate's clever tongue began to stroke his cock shaft as Rayne opened wider for him, sucking and swallowing his precum, enjoying the man's hand working his shaved balls against his body. He was so horny that he squirted into the curate's mouth straight away. Moments later his lips and tongue coaxed an answering gush of spunk from his mate's erect prick. 

The fellow was on his feet almost immediately, zipping himself up and wiping his mouth on the back of his sleeve. Rayne tucked himself in, panting excitedly as the fellow bent and planted a quick kiss on his lips. 

"That was wonderful," he breathed. "Are you staying locally?"

"My brother lives up in Sandlingford," Rayne said. "I guess we're going back to Kent after the reception."

"That's a shame," his companion said with the same mischievous bemusement as before. "Nothing doing in this miserable place. You're such a stunning, randy little thing. I'd love the chance to strip and bed you properly before you go home."

Rayne stared at him with wide eyes. He was saved from having to respond to this remark by the sudden appearance of his Nanna Monksford, strutting down the path from the chancel like a broody hen. She looked suspiciously at the pair of them when she spotted them, then crooked her finger imperiously. 

"Raymonde... photographs!" she called, turning and stalking back up to the church. 

"Gotta go," he said apologetically, pushing himself to his feet. 

"Ah well," his horny new friend sighed, patting him appreciatively on the bum. "Many thanks for an excellent blow job. I hope you enjoy the reception."

***

Skye leaned close to him for one of the photographs of the pair of them beneath the lych gate of the church and whispered softly to her baby brother; "You've got cum on your shirt collar! Can't you keep it in your pants for half a day?"

He wanted to tell her about the curate. He was sure it would make her laugh, but then she was swept away for another session of pictures and he was left to dab speculatively at his shirt in the hope of concealing the evidence. 

A VERY WARM RECEPTION:

The reception was held at some vast country house hotel in the middle of nowhere. The meal and the speeches were endless and he was out of his mind with boredom by the time the band struck up and people started dancing. Bells snared him for a dance once the bride and groom had taken to the floor and enjoyed their first, rather awkward waltz together. Her hot little hands were all over him and Rayne could barely keep his own clutches decent. She had swapped the silver gown for something much less modest that was barely more than a white slip with spaghetti straps.

"Are you wearing knickers?" he whispered as they curled around one another. 

"Why don't you find out?" Bells giggled. She was already quite drunk. 

He slid his hands down to her thighs and back up slowly under the short, filmy skirt. He had to go a long way up over her slim hips until his searching fingers found the straps of her tiny white thong. Jack was glaring at him as the dance came to an end. Rayne blew him an insolent kiss.

Jack was very cautious of his new wife's condition and handled her like priceless porcelain for the entire evening. By eight o clock Rayne could almost feel the heat of Skye's temper. He pulled her to him after Dad had claimed a dance with her, and she leaned forward, resting her head on his shoulder, turned half to the side. Rayne stroked her tummy fondly and they circled the room together in a quiet embrace. 

"I'm sorry about this morning," he whispered to her and she sighed; 

"It doesn't matter."

"I didn't mean to bring you bad luck."

"Don't worry about it," Skye murmured. "Right now I just want to get today over with. I'm so tired... and so horny."

He smiled wickedly. 

"You should go upstairs and lie down for a while. I'm sure Jack won't object."

"Are you coming with me?" she asked, looking up with huge, puppy dog eyes.

"Try to stop me," he murmured, gently stroking her left breast. 

She nuzzled his collarbone tenderly. 

"She's only fifteen you know?" she breathed. 

"Who is?" Rayne put his arms around her, swaying her gently from side to side. 

"Arabella. She's still a virgin," Skye looked up at him seriously. "Though she'd like it to be otherwise, I'm sure."

"Tell me about it," Rayne laughed easily. "She's been trying to jump my bones all day."

"Don't let her," Skye warned quietly. "Catherine's watching you. I heard about what happened earlier on, Ray. If she catches you with your cock out anywhere near Bella she'll call the police like a shot. And Jack'll take a rifle to you if they let you go."

Her little brother managed a cynical smile. 

"You sure you're not just jealous?" he teased quietly. 

"I'm serious, Ray. I don't want you to get hurt. She's a little cock teaser. Wait until she's sixteen, at least. They can't have you charged with anything then!" Skye drew away from him as the music came to a stop. "Come on. Take me upstairs."

***

They did not bother to turn on the lights. The gardens outside the hotel window were floodlit and cast the room in silver and deep black shadows. Rayne locked the door and Skye hitched up her skirt, kicked off her strappy mules and eased her knickers down, letting them fall to the floor. She shrugged off the shoulder straps of her flimsy dress and walked to the bed with her bare breasts gilded by the light. Rayne toed off his boots and unzipped his pants, letting them cascade to the floor. He unbuttoned his shirt, tugged his silver tie loose and pulled them both off over his head, running his hands through his tangled black hair. His erect cock was standing up at a 90% angle to his slim, naked body. Skye knelt down in front of him and cupped his hairless balls in her hand, taking the head of his long cock in her mouth and caressing it with her tongue. Her fingers worked his nuts steadily and Rayne moaned and began to thrust slowly in and out of his sister's mouth. She took him deeper and deeper, not even gagging as his cock head reached the back of her throat and entered her pharynx. 




And The Bride Wore White



Rayne cried out as she swallowed his eight inch cock and began to deep throat him, kneading his bollocks roughly against his scrotum until he pulled back and injected a good hot spurt of semen into her mouth. Skye was not concerned. She knew that her little brother always had plenty more cum in his balls. 

He staggered back to the bed and lay down on his back with his slim legs trailing over the edge. Skye followed him, stripping out of her wedding dress and mounting him in her white stockings and suspender belt. He caressed her smooth hips and soft warm thighs as she straddled him on the bed. He cupped and fondled the bulge of her pregnant belly then let his hand slip between her legs, tenderly stroking the silky wetness of her recently denuded pussy. He pushed two fingers into the slippery gash between her thighs and pumped them in and out of her, rubbing her clit with his thumb. 

Skye moaned urgently, rocking herself on his hand. Rayne writhed down sinuously to the edge of the bed, arching his back and coming to his knees on the floor with his head tilted back between her thighs. She let out a husky cry as she felt his hot breath on her sex. His fingers slipped out of her and his tongue immediately took their place, squirming deeper into her seeping cunt. With the thumb of one hand he rubbed vigorously back and forth over her throbbing clitoris as his hot young mouth kissed the lips of her pussy, his tongue darting like a fat fish in and out of the deep wet gash between them. The slippery fingers of his other hand came down to his erect cock and he began to fist it hard as he drank her juices, burying his nose in the sharp, aromatic folds of her delicious quim. 

He heard her begin to whine eagerly as she rocked her pussy harder on his face. Her juices ran down his neck as she reached her first orgasm astride him. Rayne slid right down to the floor then turned quickly and pushed her forward on her hands and knees on the bed. He rose behind her, applying the deft touch of his lips and tongue to her anus and the deep cleft between her cheeks. Skye groaned deep in her throat as he stroked her cunt and her throbbing, post-orgasmic mound whilst eating out her sexy rear entrance. His tongue flickered in and out of her rectum whilst his thumb kept her cunt occupied. Rayne was on his feet now, he lifted his head and licked her musky taste from his lips then smoothly positioned his cock between the folds of her pussy lips. She bucked back against him eagerly. They had been making love for nearly half an hour and he still was not inside her. 

Rayne attended to that lack now, gripping her slim hips and pushing his crotch forward steadily, sheathing his hot, hard, length inside her wet cunt in one long, smooth stroke. His sister buried her face in the bedcovers and screamed with pleasure as his nineteen-year-old cock filled her tight pussy. His balls were dripping with her cunt juice as he began to thrust hard between her legs. He felt her buck and shudder, coming almost as soon as his erection was fully berthed in her dripping gash. Rayne made a little keening noise as his sister tightened on his cock and almost lost control as she jerked and rode him desperately. 

"Uhhh.... Fuck me!" she grunted now. "Fuck me, Rayne! I need you so much!"

"You fuckin' do!" he agreed, and gripped her hips fiercely, slamming his long hard prick deep into her willing pussy. He was humping his slim body vigorously against her from behind, loving the way his sister's sex gripped his erection as he buried it in her. His balls slapped against her shaved mound as he thrust faster and more energetically. Skye made a little moaning noise every time he pulsed in her and her moans were getting shorter and more intense as he tooled her greedy cunt harder and harder. 

"Aahhhh... my randy stud!" she growled excitedly. "Don't stop!"

"Don't you worry," Rayne huffed, feeling weak from the physical exertion but still horny enough to fuck all night if that was what she wanted. 

He screwed her pussy until the wetness ran down her thighs in rivers. Then he pulled out, making her whimper with need until he rolled her onto her back and spread her legs. Skye arched her back and wrapped them around his hips as he drove his cock back into his heavily pregnant sister. Rayne stood at the foot of the bed and pounded her urgently now, impossibly turned on by the sight of her swollen breasts bouncing rapidly up and down and her fat, purple clit hood standing proud of her gaping pussy. He was breathless and almost ecstatic by the time he felt her rise and shudder for the third time. Skye howled his name as he buried himself in her, letting her tight cunt milk the hot flood of semen from his teenage balls as she came violently on his aching cock. 

Rayne leaned over her, his hands spread in the bedclothes to either side of her hips, head down, knees shaking, huffing like a beaten stallion. He slipped out of her as he went to his knees at the foot of the bed, licking the wet heat of her cum-filled pussy and nuzzling her wearily. Skye slumped, on her back with her arms and legs thrown wide. Her body rose and fell rapidly and her cunt twitched and pinked with satisfaction. 

"You can't stay," she whispered as he climbed wearily onto the bed beside her and put his arms around her neck, licking her sweaty skin like a little puppy dog. 

"I know. But let me hold you for a few more minutes, then I'll get dressed and go," he breathed in her ear. 

They were quiet for a little while then, just curled around one another, sated and panting. Rayne could feel his heart racing violently in his chest. He wanted to sleep beside her more than anything although he knew it was impossible.

"I love you," he told her, out of the blue. "I love you more than anyone else alive, do you know that?"

Skye stroked his face tenderly, surprised by his ardent confession. 

"I'm glad," she whispered, touching her mouth to his and kissing him softly until it was time for him to go.

He helped her to get cleaned up and changed into a more comfortable outfit, then pulled on his clothes and splashed his face in the bathroom. Skye kissed him long and hard on the mouth as he came out. He was going to miss her, he knew. Three weeks was not forever but it was her honeymoon and he could not go with her to France, much as he longed to. 

She did not say goodbye and nor did he, but Rayne's heart ached as she closed the bedroom door between them. He had to force himself away from the room, stumbling half-blind and weak-kneed back down the endless corridor. At the top of the stairwell he ran into Jack, on his way up to find his new bride. His brother cast him a disparaging look. 

"Is Skye all right?" was all he asked though. 

"Just tired," Rayne muttered, struggling to hold his suspicious stare. 

"I'll just go and see if she needs anything," Jack said more decisively. 

For a moment, Rayne turned to watch him stride along the corridor. He shuddered miserably, then on an impulse called out the other man's name. Jack Barnes hesitated, glancing back at him incuriously. 

"Do you love her?" the younger man asked him atonally. "Do you really, really love her?"

Skye's new husband ran a nervous hand through his smartly cut red-blond hair and came slowly back towards him looking puzzled now. 

"I just married her, didn't I?" he declared as if this answered the question. 

Rayne stared up at him, memorising his plain, perplexed face in case he ever needed to come back and kill the man. He could not believe that Skye was giving up her freedom for this stranger. It was agony to accept that maybe she loved Jack more than she loved him after all.

"Of course I love her," his brother said to him, slowly and precisely as if to a child. "She's my wife. She's going to have my baby."

"Look after her," Rayne Wilde told him, in a firmer tone, never averting his unblinking stare. "That's all."

"Of course," the older man responded with a little shake of his head. And then he was turning again, going back up the corridor, his footsteps made silent on the deep, thick carpet, opening the door, disappearing into the room Rayne had so recently vacated. Taking what was rightfully his and his alone. 

Rayne shuddered and closed his eyes, feeling betrayed.