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Not Drunk - Plastered

By: Tomsparty



I was to marry on Saturday week and didn't want a stag night. The very idea of getting blindingly drunk with a loud, raucous bunch of mates unpalatable. I told my best man it wasn't required and to say nothing to my fiancé, Lily.

Over the years I made many girlfriends and still secretly saw them on a platonic basis. I preferred their company to guys. One night I confided in Clare, a local nurse, how I disliked the idea of a wild stag night. Sympathetically she understood, suggesting I have a hen night with all my girlfriends instead. She even offered to organise it for me.

Clare was my best mate. I had know her for years. She was my first love. When young she used to drag me into cupboards and give me Chinese burns and butterfly kisses and all the things you do before you realise you're being horny. We were never very physical. Our love was a different thing: a mental thing; a spiritual thing. We wrote love letters, stroked each others hair, had private play words and even gave each other cat names. Barmy? maybe but we where close.

I worried that Clare would be jealous of my wedding so it seemed the least I could do. Of course she was a little upset when I initially told her that she wasn't invited to the actual wedding day but Lily and her never saw eye-to-eye. I hope she understood... I think so.

A secret hen night. It seemed perfect; I was off the leash. Lily expected me to go wild on a boozy stag do so I had the ideal excuse to party with the girls. 

Clare was a star, she organised everything and told me to be at her house on Friday at seven sharp, the week before my wedding.

What I didn't expect was for her and her girlfriends to dress me as a pretty Hen. Under normal circumstances I may have refused but Clare had this amazing control over me that made it impossible to refuse. She cutely called my outfit, fancy dress and I consequently couldn't see the harm. It didn't take much persuading, I liked the idea of dressing up and surrounded by my closest girlfriends I soon found myself shaved, washed and dressed in sumptuous silky lingerie, tantalisingly sheer stockings, a daring mini dress that clung to every curve and towering high heels. I was oblivious to the consequences. My outfit seemed over elaborate for a simple fancy dress and looked rather too convincing. I surprisingly didn't look like a guy dressed in drag on a spoof hen night as expected. No, Sir I looked like an innocent, pretty young girl out celebrating her forthcoming marriage. 

I studied myself in her full length mirror as Clare applies the final touches of make-up and showers me with clouds of hairspray.

'We're going for a few drinks, a meal then clubbing.' Clare says gleefully as she smears a bright pink gloss on my lips. 'and you look so good, you'll have trouble keeping the boys at bay.' She laughs. 'I don't like to admit it but I do believe I'm jealous.'

'I'm not so sure,' I say tugging apprehensively at the hem of my dress I look too...' my voice trails off nervously, terrified to admit any more secrets.

'Too pretty?' Adds Zoe, also a nurse from the same hospital and a close friend of Clare's. 

I nod, my long hair shimmering and flutter my eyelashes.

'You can never look too pretty, even if a guy.' Clare adds smoothing the seat of my dress with the palm of her hand. 'You had the option: Stag or Hen. You chose Hen, you now can't have the best of both worlds. ' Her gentle hand lingers over my firm peachy bum and her long fingers slid easily between my cheeks and the silk panties. 'So cheer up darling, you look incredible and you've taken to those towering high heels as if you've worn them all your life.'

It was true I did look good. I stare down at my long slender legs, the sheer stockings over my smooth skin and the beautiful red jewelled heels. The tiny ankle straps kept them firmly on my feet but their high heel made me totter uncomfortably as I walk, forcing my hips to swing ceremoniously from side to side in an exaggerated fashion. I flutter my long painted lashes and cross my legs allowing the nylon to rasp alluringly. They felt sumptuous if a little perverse.

Clare saw my enjoyment. 'So, my darling, you obviously like your sexy outfit' she asks. 'The short skirt really shows your long legs off beautifully.'

I nod, slightly embarrassed but as if on cue my cock began to harden and I bit my lip trying to ignore my obvious pleasure.

'Yes, of course you do my, pretty.' She flicks an imaginary speck of dust from my skirt and smiles. 'You like this dress because it makes you look...' She pauses, leans towards me, her ear alongside my painted lips as if waiting for me to complete her sentence. 'Sexy... she gasps. 'It makes you look incredibly sexy.' She turns and kisses me gently on my soft lips careful not to smudge my gloss. ' It also make you feel special and...desirable.'

I gingerly nod and shake my curvaceous hips as if on cue and my skirt flutters playfully around my thighs like a butterfly in summer.

'I'm right aren't I?'

I nod cautiously and twirl on the spot so that my skirt flickers like a candle flashing my stockings and a brief glimpse of panty.

Clare winks. 'You look so hot. I only hope you can move as well as you look.'

I hoped so too, especially after all the effort Clare had taken. 

I was lucky, there was a magical quality about the sexy dress that hung so delicately from my shoulders and the sheer stockings that clung to my every curve and the heels that sparkled like diamonds with every step. I felt as light as a feather, my joints supple as if well oiled machinery and my muscles as taut as a gymnast. Tonight, I thought, I will be the 'Belle-of-the-Ball.'

I trusted Clare implicitly, perhaps more than Lily, yet stepping into the taxi, that night I began to feel rather vulnerable and defenceless. My skirt, was after all barely skimming my bottom, my suspenders and stocking tops clearly visible and my heels so high my legs look as if they would reach the sky.

'At least no-one will recognise you in your sexy outfit,' Clare says patting my peachy rump yet again. 'You've absolutely no worry of Lily finding out.'

This was true but my uncomfortable feeling didn't abate. 

We picked up Mary on the way then drove straight to the pub. Here we met up with nine other past girlfriends. Clare hadn't told them I was to be a Hen so when they clapped eyes on me, my stockings, long slender legs, sexy dress and stunning wig. I was a complete surprise. After the initial gasps of 'Oh my God' and the expected titter of laughter they all thought I looked amazing. 

We drank too many bottles of wine and spent the whole time being chatted up by fellas. My fancy dress fooled all the guys and they all thought I was easy game. Remember my outfit looked very promiscuous and as a virgin bride to be supposedly easy pickings. I couldn't decide if I should be flattered or humiliated. What was I to do? I didn't want anyone to know my true identity so I flirted like the other girls and decided to act the part of a soon to be bride. My girlfriends roared with laughter and helped me maintain the deception teasing the guys and making rude suggestions.

The short dress made decent walking difficult but this was nothing compared to the heels which caused a greater challenge but acted as a constant reminder as to how I looked. 

The meal in the restaurant was delicious and at the club downstairs Clare had reserved a private table. We had such fun. We talked and danced and drunk ourselves silly. I was bought loads of drinks and had to fight one particular young man off after he bought me a strange cocktail. The time flew by and I can't remember much more until...

I awake as if out of a stupor to the sound of frantic commotion and the feel of fresh make-up being applied to my face. Flat on my back, one leg seemingly higher than the other. I prise my eyes open apprehensively. Through blurry eyes I see rows of bright fluorescent tubes above me. 

'He's waking,' a familiar female voice sounds.

I shift awkwardly in the soft bed my head pounding as a reminder of the previous nights over indulgence.

Clare beams down at me reassuringly with a smile that threatens to split her face in two.

'You gave us quite a scare.' She says soothingly. 'You had a terrible fall.'

Confused, my mind tries to retrace the last few hours at the club.

'You drunk far too much.' Clare says touching my forehead gently.

I groan and shift clumsily, strangely restricted. My mind a blur I don't yet understand.

Club, dance, lights, hot, guys, cocktail... My vision returns like slowly clearing morning mist but my head throbs with the mother of all hangovers.

Every limb is still and heavy. I look around my new surroundings in a dazed state. I frown. My bed is fenced by a pattern curtain. Claire is fussing with my sheets and wearing her sexy nurses uniform. As I wake she briskly walks the curtain open and I see seven other beds around me, their female occupants all sitting up, their eyes firmly fixed on me. 

I'm surprised to see they all have plaster casts on various parts of their body. Arms, ankles, legs. I nervously wiggle my own legs and one heavy leg remains motionless. In horror I look down at my own body. My right leg is hot and bulky, supported on a large cushion, covered in a smooth white plaster cast. I groan. 

Clare steps alongside my bed and leans over me, her hair tickling my face, remnants of last nights party make-up still on her, her full breast pressing against my false bosom. 'It's still a little wet,' she chimes seemingly unaffected after last night session.

It's then I smell the cast and all becomes crystal clear, I remember the club, my hen night, the alcohol, my dancing and what I wore. I quickly look down again at the cast poking from under my pretty short skirt and feel my face burn with embarrassment.

'As predicted you where a sexy mover on the dance floor last night.' Clare says brightly, ignoring the fact that I was still dressed in drag. She strokes the long wig off my face, 'but you tripped on your handbag, fell and broke your leg. You blacked out and have been unconscious for hours.'

I groan again, glance at my watch and struggle to see the time in the delicate ladies dress watch Zoe had lent me. I try to sit. I couldn't remember any more. 

Mary joins us with an equally large grin and stuffs another pillow behind my back. 'Unfortunately you needed traction. It was a bad fracture to your tibia and fibula but don't worry you're OK to go now,' she whispers.

Clare smiles reassuringly. 'Unfortunately you'll need the cast on for six months to align the bones. But don't worry It should heal well and prevent any deformity.'

'Great,' I say sarcastically. 'Six months?'

Mary shrugs and runs her hands softly along my hard cast as if she had never seen a fractured leg before. 'It could have been worse. You may have needed screws and a plate so count yourself lucky.'

I didn't feel lucky and suddenly my pretty dress made me look rather conspicuous.

Mary continues to caress my leg oblivious to my discomfort resting her nimble fingers just as the cast reaches my panties. She tickles the delicate lace and twangs the knicker elastic so they snap back sharply against my hip stinging my smooth skin. 'Some people love casts,' she says gazing at my casts white smooth finish. 'It's a piece of art, the technician the artist and inside each work lies a limb that's very much alive.'

Bemused, I look at Clare is gazing at my stiff leg doey-eyed too. 'Yes,', she nods almost salivating. 'Watching a slender woman walk restricted in a cast is like watching poetry in motion.'

The two sexy girls wander around the bed, their eyes firmly fixed on my cast as if in a dream. 

Clare stops at the bottom of my bed and tickles the toe of my bad foot but I don't feel like laughing. 'Don't be such a sour puss,' she says then to my amazement stoops down and kisses my big toe. I raise myself off the bed and watch as she licks each digit with her hot tongue.

'Too bad I'm not coming to the wedding. I think you might need the medical help.'

I want to reply but she's now breathing over my toes her soft pouting lips a mere centimetre away from them. I feel her breath caress my toes in sharp waves and before I can say a word she has them in her painted mouth and is gently nibbling them as if a chocolate bar.

'Clare was so disappointed you didn't invite her,' Mary says soothingly whilst holding my trembling right hand and looking at the watch on her tunic to take my pulse. 'Clare was your best friend for so many years. It's such a shame that you have ignored her. I can quite understand her feeling rejected.'

'I'm sorry too,' I say my cock stiffening as Clare continues to slather over my toes. 'but I didn't ignore her, she's not rejected you both must understand. Clare and I have a considerable past and Lily can't easily forget. You know how awkward it would be.' 

My panties struggle to contain my excitement and my body rocks with a succession of rapidly changing sensations.

Clare looks up and spat out my toes. I could tell by her frown that she was annoyed. 'Tell the truth darling - Your precious Lily wouldn't let you invite me.'

'W...w... well,' I stammer fully aware that's the case. 'It's not easy. Anyhow,' I say keen to move the subject on. 'What about Lily? Does she know I'm here?'

Mary grins, 'She doesn't know yet we thought it wise not to bother her since it was so late last night when you fell and had your little accident.'

I groan and imagine her reaction. 

My leg begins to itch and I feel my face burn like a hot plate. 'Who did put my leg in plaster? Didn't they want to know why I was in a dress? I ask.

'The plaster technician and us.' Claire giggles. 'I'm sure at the time I was still a bit tipsy but considering the amount I drank I think we did a great job. Your wrist however was a bit tricky but we managed.'

Wrist! I lift my arms as loud alarm bells clang inside my head and realise for the first time that my left arm is in a sling. I gaze in dismay at another cast stretching from mid arm to my fingers. 

'What!' I cry. 

'You put your arm out as you fell and injured your wrist. Sadly it's your left and being left handed you'll struggle to write.' 

'And wank' Claire adds cheerfully.

'Just be thankful that you're getting married Saturday week. You'll soon have sex on tap. I'm sure your Lily will be accommodating.' She smirks in a disbelieving way and I feel a twinge of anger.

I groan having temporarily forgotten about my forthcoming wedding.

'Lilly's going to kill me,' I whimper.

Zoe squeezes my pink painted toes that poke from the cast and I wiggle them to check they moved. 'Your other stocking is in your handbag.' She flips up my skirt like a bed sheet so I, and the whole ward can see the top of my cast, snowy white panties and my empty suspender. My rigid cock is clearly visible behind the delicate lace detail.

I groan and my face burns even hotter with humiliation.

'Don't worry it's a walking cast and we have seen worse - you're not bed ridden. We need the bed this morning and as much as we would like to have you, you've got to go.' Both girls giggle and Claire hands me a crutch. Zoe holds my cast firmly with both hands as I attempt to swing my heavy leg off the bed. It sticks out awkwardly like a flagpole on the side of a building. 

'You'll need to sleep with your cast on a pillow to elevate it above the level of your heart.' Claire says rolling my stocking and stretching it over my bare toes like a sock. She slips my high heel back on my good foot and taps the sole as if praising a job well done. 

'Should I be wearing this?' I say struggling to stand. The two nurses glance at each other, grin and nod simultaneously. 'Absolutely,' Claire says helping me balance on my crutch. 'That's right put your crutch in your right hand, weight on your left foot. It will take some getting used to but you'll be fine.'

I grip the plastic handle of the crutch as if the rip cord of a parachute.

'My leg doesn't hurt,' I say nervously. 'It's just heavy and difficult to move. Is the break that bad?'

'No, not that bad.' Clare says with a dismissive air.

The nurses giggle again (rather unsympathetically) and watch me hobble across the ward, my skirt flapping round my crutch, the cast peeking cheekily from under the hem.

'You where very lucky our Marsha was on call. She's our best plaster technician - she truly loves her work. She's an artist and did a superb job. ' Clare's smile suddenly turns to a frown and she barks out a command as I go to put my bad foot on the floor, 'Keep your weight off your bad leg,' she screams.

I immediately correct myself and wobble for a moment as I try to regain my balance. 'But what about the wedding and my honeymoon? I say miserably.

Claire giggles again. 'I guess you should have thought about that before you did your Britney Spears impression.'

I groan, imagining myself gyrating across the dance floor flashing thigh, pantie and boobs.

'Very good it was too. You had many fans. Oh! And talking of fans, Marsha adored your lace panties. She thought this pretty dress really suited you. She wanted to know if you dressed like this regularly and wondered if you where wearing the wedding dress on the day.'

'No,' I spit then groan again, realising she must have see my raging cock. Suddenly the night of fun was turning into a nightmare. Leg in cast, wedding ruined. Wife unaware of frolics and now I'm being branded a transvestite.

Later the two girls helped me out the ward and into the corridor. I swing my cast as if a bag of cement pressing my weight onto my crutch. It wasn't easy. 

'We managed to get you a lift home in an ambulance. ' Clare says, 'It's not normal but we know the paramedic. He's easy to persuade and we said you'd show him your knickers and give him a kiss.' They laugh. I wasn't amused. 

Sure enough as I hobble into A&E, the girls introduce me to the lecherous paramedic, Kirk who points me towards a waiting ambulance.

'Good-bye,' I say to the girls and twenty minutes later Kirk is guiding me like an elderly invalid up our drive. 

My mind races ahead desperately. What was I to say to Lily? How can I explain my sexy dress, heels, lingerie and my leg and wrist in plaster? 

Kirk rings the doorbell and like a flash of lighting slips his inquisitive hand up my skimpy skirt like a blast of wind. I feel his large fingers spread across my lace panties and he gives me a playful slap. Shocked I totter precariously on my crutch unable to escape, my poor leg swinging like a pendulum, my skirt flapping gently in the breeze. 

'Stop it,' I cry as I try unsuccessfully try to steady myself on the rubber stopper on the bottom of my cast.

'Nice, sexy panties,' he growls with a dribble and is about to kiss me when the front door swings open saving me from an almost certain grope. Lilly stands agog. There is a brief moment while she struggles to recognise me.

'Oh my goodness,' Lily eventually cry's staring at me in disbelief. 'What happened to you last night and why are you wearing make-up, high heels, and that...amazing dress?' She smirks and shakes her head in disbelief, 'And what happened to your leg and wrist?'

I grin sheepishly as I hobble ungainly inside and Kirk ambles dejectedly back up the drive. 

Perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps Lily will be understanding. I'm wrong.

Our front door slams and the ambulance sped off. 

Lily made me stand in the hall like a naughty boy outside a classroom as she waits for an explanation.

Her initial amusement quickly turns to anger as she learnt that I had a Hen party with old girlfriends and not a Stag party with my mates.

'Let me get this right.' She screams her eyes still focused on my cast peeking from under my skirt. 'You spent a night clubbing with your tarty girlfriends rather than drinking with the lads.'


Not Drunk - Plastered



'I'm sorry,' I say sounding like a scolded child.

'Furthermore... And this takes the biscuit you let them doll you up in drag.' She gasps for breath. 'You look a total slag.'

She's obviously angry and upset. I avoid eye contact and squeeze my crutch for support. Sympathy looks unlikely as she grabs the dedicate hem of my dress and with a flick of her wrist flips it upwards like a pancake exposing my thighs, stocking tops and lace panties. Her eyes widen in surprise and I feel my face redden. She holds the flimsy material aloft and studies my smooth shaven leg. She raises a manicured eyebrow and touches my thigh feeling the silky smoothness of my skin under the Lycra. I try to back away but balancing on my crutch with one foot off the ground heavily restricts my ability to move. My cast weighs me down and seems to hang from my hip lifeless like a dead weight. I felt like a gangsters moll wearing a concrete ankle bracelet about to be hurled to certain death in a murky lake.

'Why didn't you tell me?' She sobs angrily. 'You're so unfair.'

I shake my head sadly. 'You're over reacting darling,' I say. 'It was just some fun. Harmless fun!'

Lily stamps her feet like a child about to launch into a tantrum. 'Overreact. Harmless fun. I've just learnt that my future husband is carrying on with his old girlfriends, likes dressing in women's clothes and has broken his leg and wrist. '

'No, no, no,' I sweat. 'But I'm not sure how.' I try to explain but Lily's not interested.

She stares at my sparkly high heels and sighs deeply. She taps my cast with a knuckle and it reverberates sending tiny shock waves up my leg. 'I can guess but I don't want to know. The image is to distressing. You've ruined our wedding day and you tell me I'm over reacting.' She stamps her feet again and glares at me for a response.

'Look,' I say hanging off my crutch like a monkey. 'The girls are just platonic friends. I've known them for years, you know this. I love you not them. Those girls are my mates. The dress well...it is a bit over the top but it was their idea. I just went along for a laugh.'

She didn't look convinced. She shakes her head. 'You're so fucking cull-able and it's just...so bloody extreme.'

'The dress did have an advantage.' I add helpfully.

'What on earth is that?' she hollers.

'At least I didn't talk to any strange women.' I say with a cheeky grin.

Lily raise her hands in desperation. 'And that is supposed to help, is it?' It obviously didn't.

I look down at my cast sticking out of my dress. 'Yes, it's a blow but I didn't mean to break my leg or wrist. It wasn't deliberate. I hate hospitals and don't get off on self inflicted pain. This is bloody uncomfortable. I'm sure we will find away for the wedding to go ahead as planned. This isn't a show stopper - just inconvenient.' I smile at Lily, pout my lips and try to strike a sexy pose.

As I continue to mumble excuses she stands as still as a statue and continues to hold my dress aloft, her eyes firmly affixed on my cock which now inexplicably begins to throb under her studious gaze.

She's not amused. Angrily she grabs my cock and massages it through my silky panties. 'How can you expect me to forgive when this is so intense, so full-on? Why the wig, make-up, bra and panties.' She pauses for breath and her eyes move from my cock to my breasts. 'And I bet you're wearing a bra with padded cups?'

I nod sheepishly and feel humiliated and ashamed. Perhaps I had gone over the top.

'And... do you know the worst thing. The very worst aspect of this sorry situation?'

I shake my head and toss a strand of hair off my face. (Note to self - I should have taken off the wig)

'You don't look half bad. You're making me feel inadequate and I'm the women here.' Her hand is warm and the nimble fingers play with my cock causing it to swell unfairly. She feels it twitch and in frustration kicks away my crutch. My support gone I swing my hands for balance struggling to stand on one heel. The odds are against me and I sway like a tree caught in a hurricane and inevitably tumble to the floor legs akimbo. I cry out not in pain but in shock. Lily looks down at me her eyes fixed on my crutch and panties. She studies me for a few minutes neither of us uttering a word. 

Then something inexplicable happens. Her face slowly turns to a smile then a laugh. I frown confused.

'There is no mistaking you are very pretty,' she says. 'I could be jealous.'

I blush and scramble on the floor but Lily skips over me, a leg either side in a domineering pose. Her leather heels press against my sides, I blink and can't avoid staring up her skirt and in between her legs. The cotton crutch of her panties visibly wet.

She sees my gaze and smirks letting her hands wander all over her body, caressing her own breasts, narrow waist and firm thighs. A delicate hand rubs her feminine mound and her smile takes on a wicked grin. A finger slips into her panties and she purrs softly as she massages her pussy.

A few seconds later Lilly began unbuttoning her blouse. 

'It's a common assumption,' she says, 'that women like their men with chiselled cheekbones and a taut stomach. It's true, a narrow waist and wide shoulders on a man does make me go weak at the knees but seeing you look so pretty in that beautiful dress has made me re-evaluate my views. '

I struggle to keep my bad leg bent without putting undue pressure on the cast. I'm uncomfortable but find myself mesmerised by her voice as I stare transfixed into her piercing eyes.

'There's no denying,' she continues, 'like most hot bloodied girls I'm turned on by a well toned hunk but today I'm enjoying seeing you dressed so pretty and feminine. I'm really turned on by the contrast of strong and soft.' She taps my cast with one foot and then prods my soft breast with the other. 'I find your show of flesh very tempting. I simply adore the look of you in a dress. You look wicked and incredibly sexy. What I particularly like is how comfort you are with yourself and how you obviously enjoy dressing like this. It's a dominance issue. When you're wearing a dress and I'm in the trousers it will be much easier to get my way. Seeing you flutter about in stockings makes me want to challenge our gender roles.'

This was getting too serious for me. 'It's a one off,' I say. 'Stop it. You're making me feel more uncomfortable than I already am.'

This has the adverse effect. Lily looks delighted. 'Good. You deserve it. I think you're expecting me to be very tolerant. ' She smiles a sexy smile. 'You wanna have some fun?' She asks. 'I'll be the handsome Prince and you can be the pretty queen.'

'Sure, baby.' I say, 'but don't you mean the other way round?' I glance down at my feminised form and saw her point. Who was I to argue?

She steps out of her miniscule panties and squats down rubbing her sex over my stiffening cock. As I lay there defenceless and immobile she flips my skirt over my stomach and pulls my panties aside so my cock sprang free. She quickly takes me in her hot mouth, teasing me with her tongue. I gasp and grip the floor as she sucks and slathers all over my hard cock. I'm ready to blow but just as I can't stand it any more she spits me out. I pout dejectedly realising that she is playing a power game. I needn't worry as she then easily inserts my throbbing cock into her sopping wet pussy. We both gasp as she lowers herself onto me and she was soon pounding up and down wildly with seemingly little concern for my bad leg, wrist or cast. She screams and moans as she lent forward her hands on my huge tits. I gasp as her fingers spread wide covering my cups kneading them like dough. I moan as my nipples harden and my skin takes on a new sensitivity and lay their unable to do much but watch. She got what she wanted. She was in total control and she played me like a fiddle. A sissy, casted fiddle.

Minutes later we came together. I gritted my teeth and ignored the discomfort as wave after wave of pleasure shot through me and I felt my load boil up inside of me until I could stand it no longer and burst inside her. I dint tell her but she was incredible and it was one of the best session we had ever had. It was with some sadness that after she had had her wicked way with me she rolled off satisfied...or so I thought.

'You've still ruined our wedding.' She said as we lay in bed later that night. I'm still furious. Nothing has changed.

The following morning I try to turn over in bed. My leg feels cumbersome and heavy. I remember my plastered leg and sigh. I lay quietly for another fifteen minutes trying to put my predicament out of mind, but I really did need to get up and have a pee. I lift back the duvet. I'm wearing a red semi-transparent baby-doll nightie. Lily insisted I wore it after last nights sex. I moaned but allowed her to dress me in the belief that she was punishing me for my apparent misdemeanour. Maybe, but the soft material was incredibly sexy and now it made me want to pee even more. I study my shiny white plastered leg raised high on a pillow. I was covered from groin to ankle. 

I open my eyes and look up. There to my surprise is Lily sitting in a bedroom chair. She's watching me, her feet resting on the edge of the bed. Already dressed she wore her skinny jeans and a tight top. She winks at me.

'Hello sexy, have you any idea what you're going to wear today as you can't spend all day in bed.'

I shift awkwardly and flick off the quilt. I gaze at my huge cast.

'Your briefs or trousers simply won't fit over that stupid cast.' She grins and leans her head back and took a swig of tea. I notice she hadn't made me one. Her tits were ready to burst out of her tight top. Her eyes caught me staring.

'You're useless and pathetic with your leg in plaster. You'll have to do everything I ask...with gratitude or I won't help you at all. OK.'

I nod dumbly 

'So to start with get dressed and we will see about our wedding outfits.'

Despite her grumpy nature she said it with her sexiest voice and I assume I had been forgiven for the night before.

I clumsily pull myself onto my elbows and struggle to arrange my pillows. Lily didn't help but unsympathetically watches me with a smirk.

My nightie was half way up my bum now and I push with my arms into the mattress struggling to get upright. I felt so helpless and useless but was determined not ask for help. I roll on my side and hung my legs over the bed. Every effort was exhausting. I plant my good foot on the ground, my cast leg sticking awkwardly off the bed. How I was to endure this for six month? I had no idea. I hadn't told Lily about that. I try to push myself up straight but without putting weight on my cast it seemed impossible. Where's my crutch I muse? This was harder then I imagined but wanted Lily to think I was capable. After a few painful minutes I gave up flopping back onto the pillow with a sigh. Lily came to my side and helped lift my legs back on to the bed. She grins and had a 'who's stupid now' look on her face. I feel trapped like a prisoner unable to escape.

I look miserably down at my cast. Perhaps Lily's right, the wedding was going to be difficult. My mind wanders as I contemplate my predicament. The cast was beautifully neat consisting of expertly applied strips of plaster. Odd I didn't think they used plaster anymore. I rub my hands over it dreamily. The feeling is sensational. I did it again this time drawing my hands slowly up and down the cast feeling every tiny ripple with my trembling fingers. Perhaps Mary and Clare where right. It did have a certain charm. I smile, it certainly did something for Lily. It reminded her of stiff thigh-high boots. Not that I had worn thigh-length boots, yet I understood where she was coming from. My shattered leg firm and snug inside its padded cast. I shiver with the thought and claw myself back to reality. 

I give in. 'Can you throw me some clothes?' I ask dejectedly. 'Please,' I add after she doesn't move off the chair.

This she did but instead of my jeans and T-shirt she threw on the bed a black leather mini dress, snowy white panties, matching bra and a pair of sheer stockings.

'I couldn't decide,' she said with a grin, 'long, mid calf, mini or very short! Until I found my black leather micro dress with its tiny skirt, a mere ten inches from waist to hem, it will just about cover your bum and the top of your cast. '

'I can't wear that,' I say.

'I've made my choice. I'm not giving you anything else and I reckon you should be doing everything I say - sucking up big.'

I don't argue, instead I try to hoop the dress over my cast covered foot but it was just too far to reach. 

Lily laughs.

'No,' I say stubbornly. I try again but after a few futile attempts I throw the dress at Lily with frustration.

She laughs again and I feel forlorn and helpless.

I glare at her angrily but know with my face still heavily made-up from the other night I look far from threatening.

'Very funny,' I say twisting on my side, struggling to reach the clothes.

Lily smirks pleased with the situation. 'Since you like dressing and being a girl so much I thought you could continue with the charade.'

'Don't be stupid,' I say.

'I'm not, I'm being practical. You can't wear trousers over that thick cast. This lovely dress will be perfect.'

'I can't go about dressed in this,' I say.

Lily turned to me angrily. 'Fucking tough! You didn't complain the other night when out with your pretty tarty girlfriends so don't moan now with your future wife.'

I knew arguing would get me no where so I tried again to get up so I could help myself. But while asleep Lily had taken away my crutch. I was helpless. Frustrated I cry out but she ignores me. 

'Come on darling.' She purrs, 'What's the problem. You've made your bed so you can fucking lie in it. Let's not ruin the day especially when you look so pretty and sexy.'

Unlike the other night I didn't feel sexy but with no other option I reluctantly I let her pull my nightie off over my head. She held my arms and pulls me upright but this was only so she could clip a bra round my chest and slip my slender arms through the tiny spaghetti straps. They cut into my shoulders like cheese cutters. I feebly object but feel in a position of weakness. Apparently the bra is needed so the dress hung its best. I wasn't convinced and the amount of padding Lily stuffed in the cups seemed excessive. But I needn't have worried since the dress stretched as if made of rubber as she pulls it over my head but unlike a jumper it was slightly longer and I lift my bum so she could pull it under me. It came to just below my groin clearly showing the top of my cast and was apologetic-looking.

'We need to change your underwear,' she smirks peeking at my cock struggling to keep within the skimpy stained panties.' She runs a finger between the top of my cast and the lace edging. 'These aren't going to fit over your plaster,' she smirks and neatly snips the material away with a pair of cosmetic nail scissors. With my panties ruined my cock quivers as she pulls the silky material from under me. 

'I'm not going naked. In this dress... I, I, I won't be decent.' I stutter.

Her solution is simple - a pair of panties that tie at the sides. She grins as she secures the final knot ensuring I was safely tucked inside. They looked lovely.

Again she insists I wore stockings. On clipped in place on my suspenders the other rolled up to my ankle on my cast foot. She also insisted I kept the wig on and refresh my make-up.

Once complete she helped me to my feet. I looked stupid but Lily was delighted. 

'You look amazing,' she said helping me downstairs fascinated with my new look. 'I love the contrast. She confesses, 'I said it last night but the hard cast and the soft dress and stockings sit together like chalk and cheese.' 

I wasn't convinced but at least she was less angry and with only a few days until our wedding I didn't want to fall out again.

I was, as you would imagine totally dependant on her throughout the day. She made me my meals, helped me move about the house and go to the toilet. But her manner was most strange. She was obviously pissed off following my Hen night and had ruined her plans of a conventional wedding. Her support was admirable but she talked to me as if a girl or even her sister not her future husband. She kept calling me pretty, making constant reference to my soft skin, smooth leg and long hair. I almost began to think it myself. I'm sure she did this to humiliate me because of my misadventures but over the day I became accustomed to the dress, secretly enjoyed the attention and liked the idea of being a pretty girl - even the cast had its own peculiar attraction.

Unfortunately her mood didn't change despite my initial thoughts. We didn't have sex after that night and she was cross with me for days. As punishment she kept me in skirts, bra and panties. She kept me feminised, locked up in my own home unable to see anyone. Angrily she discarded her diet and in the following days she ate like a horse. 

Her mother, Wendy, came round to help Lily with the final adjustments to her wedding dress. She saw me, my cast and my dress and collapsed with laughter. Yes, she was sympathetic to my injuries but I saw a new, sinister side to her as she looked at my new feminised form with a wicked glint in her eye.

To their horror the wedding dress no longer fitted Lily. 

'It's your fucking fault!' she screams after Wendy had gone. 'You've made me put on weight.'

I look at her dumfounded. Weight, me?

'What with your stupid Hen night and your dressing. If you want to marry me we will have to change places.'

I look bemused.

'I should have realised earlier. There is no way you can wear your morning suit over this huge cast. You've ensured I can't wear my dream gown. So we will just have to swap outfits. I'm not going to let either of them go to waste.'

I open my mouth to protest but she cuts me short. 'We know your trousers will fit me and my pretty dress certainly suits you.' She laughs and grabs the trousers from the hanger. 'I can't understand why you enjoy dolling yourself up like a tart if you don't want to attract some hunky guy. So...if you want a man you can have me. You'll dress as my blushing bride and I'll be your handsome groom.' She giggles. 'It sounds like fun.'

'Don't be absurd.' I say. 'What a stupid idea. We can't possibly do that. We will be in front of all our friends. We will be a laughing stock. This cast is enough to contend without any added discomfort.'

We argued for ages. 

'Look we are getting nowhere.' She says after nearly an hour. 'If the idea does not appeal you won't show any interest if we talk about it for a few more minutes. Indulge me. If the very idea revolts you you've nothing to worry about but if on the other hand you like the idea your little cock will give the game away'

'I bet I can prove you wrong?' I say stupidly.

Her mischievous tone is unnerving. I chuckle nervously. I hadn't forgotten the blow-job from the other night or the red-thong panties I saw her wear this morning.

'Lay back and enjoy.' She says.

'This won't help, this isn't a game we have to agree on this. It's serious.'

'Oh relax. Don't be so stiff. Now just lie back.'

I collapse in submission back onto the pillow.

'Excellent. Now shut your eyes,' she instructs.

'What for?'

Lily walks over to the bed. 'You want to resolve our pre-matrimonial dispute or not?'

I nod and squeeze my eyelids closed, half expecting her to latch onto my crotch.

'Clear your mind of every distraction, every random thought,' Lily says, 'except one. I want you to focus all your concentration and energy on this simple image until it fills your whole consciousness, until you can't possibly think about anything else even when you try.'




Not Drunk - Plastered



'Okay, Lily.' I say assuming she had been listening to some hypnotic guru like Paul McKenna.

She says, 'Darling, I want you to focus on the fact that I want you in my prettiest panties, wearing my smoothest stockings with my sumptuous bra, in my dream wedding dress.' 

I shrug.

'Think about the masses of under skirts swirling round your slender silken legs. Think about your long train, the poesy of flowers that you are holding between painted fingers and the flower and sequin veil on your beautifully made up head. Think about what you could see if you really tried,' Lily says, 'but don't you dare peek.'

That's what I was tempted to do. Despite my determination to remain unexcited, I found myself imagining in all its detail the very thing my future wife wanted me to imagine. How she loved a romantic white wedding. Walking down the isle even on my crutch, the cast hidden from view the dress rustling and swishing seductively as it drags along the ground as I wobble up the isle to the sound of the Wedding March played on the organ.

'What's the point of this?' I ask somewhat shrilly.

'Hush.'

I heard the wardrobe door opening and the sound of masses of silk and lace rustle as I hear the unmistakable sliding of fabric as she pulls the wedding dress off its hanger. Until now the sacred dress had been a closely guarded secret and in wedding tradition she refused to let me see it.

'Come on Lily, don't.'

'Just take a deep breath. Let yourself go. As you waltz across the floor like a fairy-tale princess.'

'You don't understand. This is irrational. It's out of my control. Are you trying to humiliate me, or what?'

She drapes the dress over my legs so the lace and silk tickle my smooth good leg and crackles on my cast.

'Open your eyes and look down.'

I did.

'Now tell me you don't want to be my pretty bride.' She said. 'Tell me that's not a stiff cock, bursting with fucking excitement.'

It was hard to argue the point. As I assessed the telltale tent pole in my panties, I began to reconsider my refusal.

'Now,' she said.

I look up and saw her stretch like a sleepy lioness on the carpet. I note approvingly that she had slipped out of her dress and lingerie.

'Okay. You win.'

'What do you mean?'

I struggle to sit up and with super human strength swung my cast over the bed and popped my cock out of my panties.

Lily studied me curiously.

'Come on baby, come to Papa,' I said, 'Sit on my cock again. Just like last night'

She sat up and drew her knees together, blocking my view of her shadowy treasure.

By now I was ready to pop and had forgotten about my cast, dress and my feminine appearance. 'Come on baby let's do it.'

Lily's brow furrowed unpromisingly. 'That's not what I had in mind. The purpose of the exercise is to prove my point.'

'Excuse me.'

'Like you said, this is very serious I would never forgive myself if I was to ridicule you or force you to do something you didn't want to.'

'No, its okay,' I declare with desperate stoicism, 'I feel good about it, in fact I look forward to it.'

'That's very good but no...lets wait.'

'But I'm fine,' I squeak, 'Let's not.'

'No, we must remember your condition.'

I watch her pull my smart morning suit out of the wardrobe and wiggle into the trousers. 'Look, as I thought they fit perfectly.'

She parades up and down the room with my dress shirt and trousers on before slipping on the tails. That too fits incredibly well.

'Now,' she said jumping on the bed making my cast vibrate uncomfortably. 'Since you agree. Lets see how my wedding dress fits on you.'

Trapped like a cornered animal unable to run she unzips the dress and gathers it gently in her hands.

Carefully she lifts my cast and guides the dress through the many underskirts then held my good ankle and followed suit.

I lift my bum off the bed co-operatively as she pulls the dress upwards the layers tickling my legs as she did so.

She made getting up so much easier as she gathers my legs and the billowing dress and hung them over the bed. Anchoring my good foot on the carpet she took my hands and pulls me upright. She adjusts my bra then as I stood there balancing on one foot she pulls the dress upwards. 

I hold my breath. Like my suit on Lily, her dress on me fits perfectly.

'This is unbelievable,' Lily gushes walking around me fussing over the dress like a seamstress. 'You look stunning, really sexy and glamorous. I don't see a cheap slapper like last night but a beautiful princess.' She gently taps my cast through the dress with her foot and it clanks solidly sending a shudder all up my leg. She lifts my dress and studies my leg and cast with a careful eye. She slips a white satin heel on my good foot and I feel like Diana, Princess of Wales at the White house, or a maid of honour. Lily retrieves my crutch from the other room. I needed it to walk but even more so in her pretty heel. She didn't hand it to me but left it against the wall a few steps away to remind me of my dependency on her.

'Thanks,' I say taking a few stiff legged hops holding onto any available surface. 

'My bones hurt a dull pain as I slip my hands into the crutch and grasp the handle with relief. But something strange happens I feel really sexy. The dress fits perfectly, it feels slinky and strokeable despite the masses of material.

Delighted with my look Lily makes me limp around the room until I built up enough confidence to look convincing. 

'Perfect,' she cries after a while. 'I can see you coming down the isle now. Perhaps not waltzing but definitely cumming.' She laughs and squeezes my cock through the masses of dress material. 

I almost explode. 

'When you have the hooped underskirt on know one will see your lovely cast. More the pity.'

'Lovely? More the pity!' I question, 'What do you mean?'

She laughs. 'There's something strangely attractive seeing you hobble about the house with your leg still and immobilised.' She raises the dress like a canopy and bobs under the skirt disappearing completely. I stood motionless for a few moments as I feel her hands run over my hard cast. My cock twitches involuntarily and threatens to slip out of my panties.

'What are you doing?' I ask then hear the sound of my panties drawn down my legs. I brace myself expecting her to suck me off but she stops and reappears slightly red-faced. 

'We definitely made progress,' she adds brightly. 'I'm again so looking forward to the wedding as then when I've got you back into our hotel room I'm going to tear your panties down with my teeth and we can fuck all night long.'

'I can't wait until the wedding.' I say dismally I need relief now.' I wave my wrist and cast miserably.

'Well, my darling you have no choice. Look who's wearing the trousers. I make the decisions round here now.' Lily then blew me a kiss and disappears downstairs leaving me alone to struggle out of the wedding gown.

As Lily proved, in theory I loved the idea of our role reversal for the wedding. In practice it turned out to be a different experience. We simply swapped places for everything. I had the beautician do my legs, eyebrows, nails and make-up. I had her hairdresser style my hair for the big day. Whilst she...well didn't really have to do much and this seem to please her immensely.

My biggest disappointment was my best man who refused to be part of what he called a stupid charade. I obviously pissed him off for not having a Stag night and he now was convinced I was a transvestite. Lily asked a close lady friend to come to our rescue who apparently loved the idea of dressing male for the day. I had never met her but agreed Lily's suggestion opting to avoid further conflict. If the choice was mine I would have asked one of my nurse girlfriends, Clare preferably but thought that would open an old wound.

Lily left our house the night before to stay with the new best man in true wedding tradition and Wendy, her mother stayed over to help me with my cast and the wedding dress. As you can imagine It was all incredibly humiliating. Plus Lily made me wear her sexy open fronted baby-doll the night before with matching panties to, in her words, get me in the mood.

The baby-doll itself was easy to put on but the stretchy panties where not tie sided. I tried to hook them over my cast but unable to bend my foot it seemed miles away. Wendy had to help me. That was humiliating getting ready for bed lying immobile as she slid women's lace panties up my leg and cast

Wendy, thought our role reversal was a great idea (she would) and offered to do any dress alteration. But very little was needed. She was my personal dresser helping me into my lingerie, dress and hooped underskirt. She bossed about the beautician and the stylist who struggled to stop laughing at me. I resided to my fate and just sat on a stool sipping water as her and her entourage made-up my face, painted my nails and styled my hair. After a few hours I was ready and was left alone in my room to compose myself.

As I sat on the stool facing the dressing table. There was a gentle knock on the door and in walked my new best man. She was dressed in a smart morning suit, white shirt, cravat and black brogues. She held a top hat and wore a cheeky grin across her face. That said she looked very sexy and I found myself feeling very hot and flustered.

'My goodness you look gorgeous.' She said walking towards me. 

'Hello,' I sigh. 'Pleased to meet you. Sorry it has to be like this. I suppose you know the story?'

She nods knowingly. 'How's the cast?' she asks.

'OK,' I say.

'I knew you looked good in a dress but I never dreamt you would look so convincing in Lily's wedding dress. Your hair is beautiful, your dress makes you look virginal and your make-up, those bright pink lips... Well, I could fancy you myself.'

She puts a hand on her groin and fiddles with an imaginary cock. 

I'm confused. 'How come you've seen me in a dress before?' I say. 

She smiles. 'I was the plaster technician in hospital. I'm Marsha.'

My mouth drops to the floor. 'It's you,' I say, 'Doesn't Lily know.'

'It's incredible. ' Marsha grins, 'What a weird stroke of fate. I've know your Lily for years and recognised you the moment you come in.'

She nods and kisses me full on the lips and I try to push her away as she put her arms around me like an octopus. 

'Steady on,' I say struggling but she's as strong as an ox and with only one solid foot on the ground she quickly over powers me.

She didn't seem bothered and was much stronger than I imagined as she anchors to my body like a limpet. I smell the strong aroma of Gentlemen's aftershave.

'Be careful of my cast,' I gasp rather indignantly, shifting clumsily on the stool.

She nods and kisses me again but this time moves down to my slender neck and ear. She blows on my ear lope and flicks my clip-on earring with her tongue.

'Stop it.' I say. But she doesn't stop and her hand moves from my satin waist to my groin.

'No,' I say feebly but she finds what she's looking for and gently began stroking my cock through the silky smooth material. 

It had been days since Lily had touched me there and Marsha's 'technician' touch felt incredible. I decide not to fight too hard for the time being but hung onto her as she works me over. I start to moan a bit and hump against her hand. 

'That's it. That's my girl.' She coos in my ear and moves her lips back to mine sliding her tongue into my mouth. 'I knew you where going to be easy.' 

Amazingly I let her do it. Things were happening so quickly but it didn't matter, I was too far gone. When she pulls down her zipper I didn't know what to expect. Seeing her hold a huge rubber cock it only made my heart beat that much faster. 

'Is that...double headed?' I gasp. 

'Absolutely, I want to some fun too.'

I reach down and touch it. I had never put my hand on a dildo before and dressed as I was it excited me tremendously. It didn't matter that I had touched my own so many times this felt so different. The rubber prong was as hard as mine. The major difference was its size. On a good day I may measure six inches. This beast was probably a solid nine.

'You like it big?' Marsha asks in her sensuous lisp.

'We shouldn't do this. I can't. I'm not gay. I'm just about to get married. You know this.' Was all I could manage as my last protest.

She chuckles in a low tone. 'You don't have to be gay to be submissive. Now I am going to make you forget about Lily and the ceremony for a little while. Call it my special wedding present. From me to you.'

She reaches behind me with both hands and grabs my fleshy buttocks. I squeal as she effortlessly she lifts me onto the dressing table. I simply sat there and let her push my wedding dress up my thighs. The dress crackles loudly. She smirks as her eyes feast on my pretty wedding lingerie. I giggle and feel my cheeks redden as she strokes my hardening cock through the flimsy material.

'You want it bad, girl. I can tell.'

I want to object but I couldn't utter a sound as she tore my panties down my silken leg and over my cast as if cheap rags. I kick them off excitedly and she grabs my cock. She strokes me gently then barks a request in an authoritarian manner. 

'Put your dainty feet on my shoulders,' she grins. 

I stare at her aghast. I wasn't normally very adventurous and she was taking me well out of my comfort zone. 

'Come on,' she snaps we haven't long.' My blood courses through my veins and my mind went into a spiral. I shouldn't be doing this but I found her request impossible to refuse. 

'I don't think I can,' I whimper glancing at my heavy cast.

'I should sign this,' she says helping me lift my cast covered leg up onto her suit shoulder careful not to knock her button hole. 'What do you think would be fitting? Sissy slut or loose tart. Perhaps we should wait until I've finished with you before I make an opinion.'

Then she gently helps me lift my good leg onto her other shoulder as I support myself on the table. I liked being told what to do and my heart pounds loudly.

Feet akimbo, flat on my back, I offer her my most intermit orifice. I waggle my one satin white heel and gaze at my long slender leg, heavy cast, silken stocking and beautiful lacy suspenders. I rub my nylons on her neck.

'Lay back,' she whispers and she probes my arse with an inquisitive finger. I squeal with excitement as for the first time in my life I'm touched where I never dreamt possible. 

'Relax, gorgeous,' she purrs rubbing my tiny rosebud with one finger. 'You're obviously a virgin, you've never let a woman take control, yes?'

I want to say yes but I remember the night before with Lily and wondered if it counts.

I smile and don't answer as she pulls out a small tube of lubricant from her suit pocket. Ever the resourceful I muse as she deftly applies some to her rubber manhood. Totally excited I pant like an athlete at the starters orders ready for the off. I grab the edge of the table as if in a diving plane.

Marsha grabs my thighs and caresses them lovingly.

'Just relax sweetie, this is going to be so much fun I've always wanted to do this... Especially to you.' From the moment Lily showed me your photo I had a hunch that you would enjoy a bit of femininity and cast action.' She grins at me like a victorious wild animal about to devour its prey.

I nod and feel her rubber toy press against my sphincter. I take a deep breath and hold the masses of netting and silken wedding dress against my stomach. I couldn't see what was going on but I felt her guide the bulbous head teasingly at my entrance. I giggle excitedly as she presses on relentlessly and after a bit of effort my muscle relaxes and her long thick rubber cock slides inside me. The pain is sharp and very real. I gasp as I feel her huge circumcised head ease into my rectum. Strangely my own cock goes limp and I have a tremendous urge to pee. I cry out as she fills me up, the pain intensifies and her vein rippled shaft pushes its way further inside me ridge by ridge.

Flat on my back, my head propped up against the wall mirror and my arse hanging off the table, my bent cast resting comfortably on her shoulder she began to rhythmically rock back and forth. Marsha held my calve and cast for leverage and I reach down and grab her thighs for support.

'That's my baby,' she screams. 'Fuck me.'

The sounds were wild as the greasy lubrication hotted up allowing her to glide in and out of me as she fucks me with her big rubber cock. She began to scream with pleasure and as she moved in and out of me, my own cock began hardening again. Her thrusts were now so hard there was a slapping noise every time she hit my arse. That and my uncontrolled grunts and moans were all we heard. She began to really lean on me pressing my cast against my chest. We even recommenced kissing as she made short powerful thrusts into my body.

After about ten minutes of some very intense fucking she pulls away.

I'm disappointed. I wanted this lady inside me and I imagined her injecting seed into my arse. The feeling was so wild, not to mention the sucking noise it made as the head plopped out of my arse.

But Marsha hadn't finished with me.

'On your feet my pretty.' She cries. 'Be careful of your leg?'

With a little help I carefully swung my cast back over her head as she bent at the knees and I struggle to stand. I put my arms around her instead of using a crutch. I wasn't going to let her go that easily. Our tongues entwined and I explore her warm mouth. It was so passionate being in her arms. 'Let me fuck you from behind.' She coaxes.

'Whatever,' I say as so excited I would have done anything for her. Obediently I twist around on my one heel and spread my legs. She shuffles up behind me and presses me against the table. Propped against the wall, my weight on my good leg she bent down gathers my train and drags the masses of material upward. 

'Hold this,' she barks pulling it over my head.

I balance precariously on one leg like the pirate 'Long-John Silver' desperately waving my bad leg about like a flag keen to avoid touching the floor. 'Keep your weight off your bad leg,' I heard Claire bark in the back of my head like a guardian angel.  

Using my one crutch I bent over nervously.

Then Marsha quickly, penetrates me again. This time it was easy. Hell I was so relaxed she could have driven the wedding limousine up my arse. I again held my many layers of dress as she grabs my hips and really starts pumping me. A few moments later she had me squealing like a love struck teenager and my high heel left the ground as she thrust into me.

As she stiffens and I brace myself to receive I felt one of her hands drop down on my erection. She quickly wraps her fingers round my tiny cock and began jerking me and fucking me at the same time, The sensation was so intense. It was at this point that I knew this was the most incredible sexual experience I had ever had. But then suddenly...

There was a knock and my eyes lock on the door like a missile. I stood paralysed

'Come in,' Marsha calls.

'You'll remember this moment,' Marsha whispers. 'but I thought we should make it more memorable. I know how forgetful you men can be.'

In walks the wedding photographer, a friend of Marsha's. 'Meet Olivia,' Marsha chirps breaking from thrusting.

I smile in horror but Olivia is already clicking away with her camera.

She was right of course - it was an incredible memorable moment as she had me in orbit and now she had me cumming. I squeal like a young girl as my hot sperm shot out of me and splatters in her hand.

'Got that,' Marsha cries to the grinning Olivia and I feel my face redden. A few photos more and Olivia left for the church.

I soon forgot about the photography as I enjoy myself so much. I could feel my legs trying to slide out of my tight cast as every muscle in my body shudders to orgasm after orgasm.