Catering To The Bride

Ana Foxxx spots Robby at her own wedding reception. The bride flashes a smile and leads the cater-waiter into a quiet side room. She drops every pretense—says her vows were just legal bullshit, grabs his belt and pulls his cock free. Robby mutters something about the groom, but Ana’s already on her knees, tongue slick along his shaft. She climbs the linen-covered table, hikes her dress, and takes him deep. Heavy strokes, low dirty talk, wetness loud in the room. Just when they’re both close, the groom knocks—looking for his wife. Robby slides to the floor and yanks the dress over his head as she answers the door. The groom gushes about how perfect she looks, how lucky he is; Robby listens, face level with Ana’s bare pussy, still hard as stone. Door closes. Robby climbs out, confronts her. She shrugs, no shame, and drags him back inside her. They finish hard, bodies slapping under the white gown until he spills across her stomach, one last grin shared before they part.