What We Bought That Saturday Before Getting Married

I woke up feeling the weight of Laura’s arm around my waist. The sheets barely covered us, and Saturday’s light slipped between the curtains without asking permission. I moved slowly, trying not to wake her.

“Don’t go,” she murmured, her eyes still closed.

“I’m here,” I told her, and kissed her cheek. Then I whispered in her ear, “We have ten days all to ourselves.”

A smile spread across her face without her opening her eyes. I turned over and ended up on top of her. We’re exactly the same height, so when I lay on top of her, our hips fit together almost inevitably. I used my legs to part hers and felt, with barely any pressure, that she was already wet. My pussy rubbed against hers through our naked skin, and we both sighed at the same time.

“What a beautiful way to wake up,” she said.

“This is just the beginning,” I replied, moving on top of her, rubbing my clit against hers and feeling her grow even wetter. “We’re going to have lots of mornings like this.”

We kissed. I caressed her face slowly, running my fingers through her tangled hair. I asked her to open her mouth and let a thick string of saliva fall between her lips. She received it with her eyes half-open and an expression that mixed surprise with something deeper. Then I leaned closer and licked it from the corner of her mouth, forcefully pushing my tongue inside hers.

“I saw it in a movie,” she confessed, panting. “And it really turned me on. I love you, you know that?”

“And I love you. We’re both a sea, love.”

I lowered my mouth to her neck, then to her tits. I sucked one nipple until it hardened and ran my tongue around it, nibbling the tip until she arched her back. With my free hand, I caught her other nipple between my thumb and forefinger, twisting it slowly and feeling her tremble beneath me. My pussy wouldn’t stop dripping onto her thigh.

“Fuck, I can’t think when you do that,” she said, grabbing my hair.

I pulled away for a moment, still straddling her, and told her I wanted to talk about the wedding. We only had a few days left before the civil ceremony, and there were still details to take care of.

“I want to look good that day,” I told her, while my pussy remained pressed against her belly. “Painted toenails and fingernails, lipstick, lashes.”

“I thought about that too,” Laura replied, her hands on my ass, squeezing it. “Red lipstick, red nails. What do you think?”

“Like a couple of whores,” I said, laughing.

“Of course.”

“You’re terrible, you know that!”

She kissed me in response. Then she told me she had already bought the lipstick, the kind that lasts for hours and doesn’t leave a mark when you kiss. She had kept it hidden as a surprise.

“What do you mean, you already bought it?” I asked her.

“I wanted to surprise you.”

“You’re such a bitch.”

“Don’t be mad, baby.”

“I’m not mad,” I told her, and pinched one of her nipples hard, twisting it.

She screamed and laughed at the same time, then returned the gesture by digging her nails into my nipples until I screamed too. We kissed again, this time longer, sucking each other’s tongues hungrily. Then I told her I wanted to go out and buy the rest: sandals, the outfit for the civil ceremony, everything we still needed. And that I wanted to walk down the whole street holding her hand. Arm in arm, with my arm around her waist. And that if I felt like it, I was going to kiss her right there on the sidewalk without warning.

“Shit,” she said, and I knew it was a yes.

“I’m in love with you and I don’t care about anything else,” I told her. “Do you understand?”

She didn’t answer with words. Instead, she threw off the sheets, spread her legs wide, and ran two fingers over her already-soaked pussy, showing me how they gleamed when she lifted them. She brought them to her mouth and sucked them slowly, looking at me with those eyes that knew exactly what they were doing. I bit my lower lip. I moved closer. I turned around on the bed and climbed on top of her backward, my pussy right above her face and hers beneath mine. The 69 began on its own, without either of us suggesting it.

I felt her tongue forcing its way between my lips, moving up to my clitoris and staying there, sucking it hard. I buried my face in her pussy and ran my entire tongue from bottom to top, savoring every drop. She was so wet that it ran down my chin. I opened her lips with my fingers and licked her entrance, pushing my tongue as deep as I could, moving it in circles while squeezing her clitoris with my thumb.

“That’s it, you slut, that’s it,” I heard her moan against my pussy, and felt the vibration rise all the way up my spine.

I slipped two fingers inside her, then a third. I curled my hand upward, searching for that inner spot that made her lose her head, and began pumping her rhythmically. She did the same to me: two fingers going in and out, thrusting hard, while her tongue kept sucking my clitoris. I dripped all over her face, and she swallowed everything.

I pressed my nose against her clitoris and licked lower, until the tip of my tongue brushed her ass. She moaned louder. I kept at it, wetting it thoroughly, circling it slowly while I continued fingering her pussy. I felt her thighs trembling around my head.

“I’m coming, Mommy, I’m coming,” she said with her mouth full of me.

“Me too, come with me, slut.”

She thrust three fingers into me hard, sucking my clitoris as if she wanted to tear it off, and I did the same to her. We came together with a muffled cry each, my pussy spilling over her mouth, hers clenching my fingers like a fist. I felt her spasms against my hand for several seconds, and mine didn’t stop either. I kept licking her gently, sucking up every drop that remained, until she began to laugh and asked me to stop for a while.

We stayed like that for a while, entwined and silent, our breathing still ragged. Then we showered, got dressed, and went out into the street.

***

Our first stop was a shoe store downtown. We asked the saleswoman for two sandal styles within the look we wanted, different from each other so we wouldn’t match. She brought them out, we tried them on, and loved them. They were high-heeled, braided leather, and very elegant.

While I finished talking to the saleswoman, Laura stood behind her, mouthing something to me. It took me a second to figure out what she was saying.

“Nice ass,” she was telling me.

I almost burst out laughing right there. I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from exploding. The saleswoman stared at me, unable to understand why my eyes were full of tears.

When we went outside, I told her:

“You’re such an idiot, you make me laugh my ass off. The girl kept looking at me and didn’t understand a thing.”

“Those heels give us such a nice ass!” she continued, without the slightest regret. “They show it off beautifully. You’ll see.”

“You’re terrible,” I told her, taking her arm. “How could I not love you?”

Our next stop was the shop where we had seen the skirt and blazer. It was run by an older woman, very warm, who asked us what the occasion was as soon as we walked in. We told her we were getting married. She was surprised, looked at both of us, and smiled sincerely, one of those smiles that reach the eyes.

“How lovely,” she said. “I have two friends, a wonderful couple of women. They met here, in the neighborhood. It took them a while to accept what they felt, but once they did, they never hesitated again. They moved to Portugal together.”

Laura and I looked at each other at the same time. It was almost our story, told by a stranger in a clothing store.

Laura’s outfit was black: a fitted skirt below the knee and a straight-cut blazer. The woman accompanied her to the fitting room. While I waited at the counter, I went over to the curtain and said under my breath:

“Nice ass.”

“Shut up, little slut,” she whispered back, stifling a laugh.

“Shhh, lower your voice, you crazy woman,” I told her, moving away just as the saleswoman returned.

When Laura came out of the fitting room, the outfit fit her perfectly. Tight around the hips, elegant across the shoulders. The woman recommended wearing a round high-neck Lycra top underneath, and handed her a black one to complete the look. Then she pointed at me.

“We have the same outfit in white for you. Your size just came in. Try it whenever you like.”

I shut myself in the fitting room. I took off my jeans and top, put on the white Lycra top, and then the skirt. Before I could close the curtain, Laura peeked in.

“Slut,” she mouthed.

“Get out of here,” I mouthed back.

When I came out into the shop wearing the complete outfit, the woman applauded softly and told us we looked gorgeous. She recommended stockings: opaque black ones for Laura, and tanned nude ones for me to make the white outfit stand out. She chose the styles herself from what she had in stock.

Before we said goodbye, she offered to take us to the lingerie shop next door, where her niece worked.

“I want you to leave happy,” she said. “You’re two delightful girls, and I’m very glad I could help you.”

At the lingerie shop, we chose the stockings, got a small discount because of the woman’s recommendation, and left carrying bags. On the corner, Laura stopped, pushed me against the wall, and devoured my mouth. Right there in the street, without caring who saw. I felt her tongue forcing its way between my teeth and her hand sliding down my hip to squeeze my ass without the slightest shame.

“I love you, you idiot,” she told me when we pulled apart.

“I love you too, silly,” I replied, my heart still racing and my pussy wet again beneath my jeans.

***

Back at the apartment, we put everything on the bed and decided to try on the complete outfits before putting anything away. Laura dressed first: Lycra top, skirt, stockings, sandals. She stood in front of the full-length mirror and said:

“Fuck.”

That was all. Then we stood side by side in profile.

“Looking at myself is making me wet,” she said.

I laughed so hard my stomach hurt.

“Don’t be such a bitch,” I told her. “When we’re at the civil ceremony, I’m going to remember this and start laughing in the middle of it.”

We discovered a problem: our bras showed beneath the Lycra. The straps were clearly visible, and the tight fabric didn’t look right.

“We need a strapless bra without underwire,” I said. “Or nipple covers, straight out.”

“What if we don’t wear bras?” Laura suggested.

“My tits will show through the white top. And if it’s cold, my nipples will still show.”

“Damn it. We’ll go buy some this afternoon. And while we’re at it, we’ll book appointments at the spa.”

“Deal. Will you help me get undressed?”

“If I help you, I’ll fuck you,” she said.

I raised an eyebrow.

“Do you want to fuck?” she asked.

I nodded very slowly.

“You little bitch,” she said, and began unbuttoning my blazer.

She pulled down my skirt. She took off my stockings carefully so she wouldn’t tear them. When she reached my thong, she stopped, saw the damp fabric stuck to my pussy, and looked me in the eyes. She said nothing. She hooked her thumbs into the elastic and slowly pulled it down. When the thong was on the floor, she brought it to her face and smelled it without breaking eye contact.

“You’re such a little slut,” she murmured.

She lay me down on the bed. I turned onto my back and watched her undress. There’s something about the way Laura takes her clothes off that drives me crazy: unhurried, without posing, as if she were alone and the world didn’t exist. First the Lycra top over her head, and her tits falling free. Then the skirt sliding down her hips and thighs to the floor. Her panties were last: she took them off slowly, turning just enough to let me see her ass, and when she looked back at me, she was running two fingers over her pussy.

As I watched her, I caressed myself slowly, without hiding it. I opened my lips, ran my middle finger over my clitoris, then lowered it to my entrance and slipped two fingers inside. I ran my finger over her lips and looked at her. She sucked them without breaking my gaze, savoring my wetness.

“Queen of sluts,” she said softly.

She put on the harness. She tightened it and adjusted it. The cock was the thickest one we owned, black and curved. Then she came toward me, gently shaking the harness cock with her hand, spitting saliva onto the glans to lubricate it, with that look of hers that said everything without words. I spread my legs. I reached my arms toward her.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard, baby,” she said. “I’m going to split you in two.”

“Come on. Don’t take any longer. I need that cock inside me.”

“Do you, slut? You want it?”

“I want all of it.”

She knelt between my legs, took the harness cock in her hand, and ran it over my vulva from top to bottom, rubbing it against my clitoris. I pushed my hips toward it, but she pulled away. She brushed against me again, touched my entrance, and moved away. Until she grew tired of teasing and penetrated me without hesitation, driving it all the way in with one thrust. I arched my back and screamed. I cried out something—I don’t know what, some filthy phrase that escaped from my chest.

Her thrusts were deep and steady. The cock went all the way in and came almost completely out before sinking back inside. The sound of my wet pussy could be heard every time she thrust, an obscene sloshing that turned me on even more. Her hands roamed over my tits, squeezing my nipples, gripping my neck with one hand without quite tightening it. She kissed my neck while I filled the room with sounds I made no effort to hold back.

“Tell me this pussy is mine,” she said in my ear, never stopping fucking me.

“It’s yours, love, it’s all yours. Fuck it.”

“That’s it, slut. Moan for me.”

I bent my legs and pulled them to my chest, and the penetration went even deeper. She braced herself against my knees to thrust harder. The cock reached a place inside me I hadn’t felt in years. She lowered one hand to my clitoris and rubbed it in circles while continuing to fuck me hard. I didn’t last long like that. I came with my legs trembling, my back lifted off the bed, and a scream that filled the entire apartment. I felt my pussy clenching around the cock in long waves.

We tangled together in a long kiss, with her still inside me, moving slowly to prolong the spasms. She smoothed my hair.

“Did you like it, baby?” she asked.

“I loved it,” I replied, almost breathless. “I’ve never fucked so well as I do with you.”

She smiled, slowly pulled out of my pussy, caressed my ass, and asked if I would let her. I knew what she wanted. I turned onto my stomach, my head resting on my arms, one leg bent, my ass raised toward her in a clear invitation.

“What an ass, you bitch,” she said behind me.

I felt her hands opening my cheeks, then her tongue traveling down the crack until it settled on my asshole. She licked it slowly, in circles, then with the tip, then sucked the whole thing. I bit my arm to keep from screaming. She wet it thoroughly, coating it with saliva, and continued lubricating it with my own juices dripping from my pussy. She slowly inserted one finger into my anus. She moved it in circles, pulled it out, and put it back in. Then she inserted a second. She spread them inside me and closed them again, opening my ass and getting me ready.

When she felt I was prepared, she knelt behind me, spat on the harness cock again, placed the glans against the edge of my asshole, and began entering slowly. The pressure was enormous; I felt my ass yield inch by inch to let her through.

I let out a long moan. She paused.

“Okay?” she asked.

“Keep going,” I said, clutching the sheets. “Put it all in.”

It went in completely. I felt the harness pressed against my buttocks, the entire cock inside my ass, and a spike of pleasure run up my spine. Her movements began softly, pulling almost all the way out before thrusting back in. They gained rhythm until she made me scream. Every thrust drove my head into the pillow. I asked for more, and she gave it to me. I asked her to split me open, and she sped up. She slipped one hand underneath me and found my clitoris with two fingers while continuing to fuck my ass with the cock.

“You love having your ass broken, don’t you, slut?” she said, without slowing down.

“I love it. Fuck my ass, fuck it hard.”

“Come for me, come on. Come with my cock in your ass.”

She rubbed my clitoris faster, thrust harder, and I came like that, my face against the pillow and my nails buried in the sheets, screaming something even I couldn’t understand. I felt spasms in my ass, my pussy, and my legs, all at once. She stayed inside me while I came apart, holding herself there until I began to come down.

“You do that so beautifully, you bitch,” I told her when I could speak.

“I love your little ass,” she replied, carefully pulling out, still kneeling behind me.

“It’s yours, love.”

We stayed still for a while. Then she went to wash the harness, and I remained face down, my ass still throbbing, without the energy to move. When she returned, she stopped at the edge of the bed and looked at me.

“Good God, that ass,” she murmured.

And she slipped two fingers inside me before I could protest.

“What are you doing?” I exclaimed, even as I spread my legs a little wider.

“They just slide right in. You fucking slut.”

She moved them slowly, in and out, and I felt myself getting wet again for no reason at all.

“Enjoy it,” I told her, resigned and happy at the same time. “But at the spa, you’re letting me enjoy myself too.”

“Whenever you want, love.”

We stayed like that a while longer. I lay there while she played with my ass, alternating between two fingers and one, spitting saliva onto it to lubricate it. I confessed something I had been thinking about for a while: with her, I was more passive than active. I gave myself more completely than I did with anyone else. I didn’t know whether it was because I loved her too much or because she knew exactly how to touch me.

“I’d already figured that out,” she said, without removing her fingers. “Anyway, when I want you to fuck me, I’ll tell you.”

“Yes. You’ll tell me.”

“Do you still want the finger?”

“Hahaha. Yes.”

“It feels good.”

“You gorgeous little minx,” I told her.

We kissed, and she kept her fingers inside me while our tongues tangled.

***

That afternoon we went out again. We booked an appointment at the spa for Thursday. We found the nude strapless bras without underwire that we were looking for, two of them, and returned to the apartment with the last bag of the day.

We also told our families the date of the civil ceremony. It took both of them a second to take it in, but then came the questions, messages, and voice notes that filled our screens for hours. Laura’s mother cried a little. So did mine, though she would never admit it.

On Monday we were going to speak to our bosses to arrange cover during our days off. Everything was falling into place, slowly but surely.

That night we ate dinner late, without rushing, each of us with a glass of wine. Laura wore her hair loose and had on my T-shirt, which hung loosely from her shoulders. I looked at her from across the table and thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen, and that in just a few days she would be my wife.

“What are you looking at me for?” she asked.

“You,” I replied.

She smiled and kept eating.