JULIES STORY 4 SUNDAY
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Julie's Wedding free porn video
Julie's Wedding
By Marcia Spencer
The baby was the cutest thing that Julie had ever seen. She envied
Rachel. Rachel had found the most darling bassinet and covered it
with the loveliest pink satin, trimmed with silver lace. The baby
looked like Rachel in the face, but her eyes were Richard's. Would
her baby look like her? Or would she look like Wilbur?
"Are you thinking about him?" Linda asked.
Julie made a face. "I'm thinking about baby Gloria," she replied.
Her friend poked her. "Don't you ever think about him?"
"No," she emphatically stated, "I just think about his money."
"Well, there's a lot to think about then," Linda giggled. She took
Julie's left nipple into her mouth.
As the usual pulsations of pleasure began to spread down to her
groin, Julie was thinking about Wilbur. The idea of Wilbur fathering
her baby was intolerable. Wilbur good, nice Wilbur, soooo obedient!
Wilbur, the blank blackboard without an original thought in his
passive head. Mommy's puppet! Wilbur was OK for paying the bills.
Wilbur was nice enough as a sorta Barbie doll. You could dress him
up, and he would do whatever you said.
Julie groaned. Linda was between her legs now. The sensations built
and Julie's hips involuntarily thrust and thrust at the invading
tongue. The thought of her baby being part Wilbur just wouldn't do.
Part Daddy would be a wonderful baby. But Mother had always warned
Julie about the serious consequences of a baby with Daddy. The baby
could be retarded or completely moronic. Julie always wore a
diaphragm.
Oh! Oh! Too bad that Linda couldn't give her a baby! Julie hips
bucked and spasms shook her all over.
Linda's face appeared. Her lipstick was smeared and her hair was
straggly with sweat, but she was grinning. "Pretty good, huh,
Princess?" she laughed.
"Pretty good, wench!" Then Linda gave her friend a royally good time.
It was time for Linda to pick up Wilbur. Not for Wilbur to pick up
her. Wilbur never picked up anybody in his whole life. Athalie would
have Wilbur ready for her. He would be bathed and groomed, clad in
some grownup play clothes, such as a suit and tie, or possibly a
slightly more casual look, sports coat and slacks, probably, whatever
Mother suggested, of course. A whole wardrobe full of a rich boy's
clothes, but they were there for Athalie's choosing, not Wilbur's,
even his very underclothes.
It was at that point that Julie had her idea, her magnificent,
perfectly marvelous idea. If it was her destiny to take over Wilbur's
controls, then she would break her own path. Wilbur made a silly boy
for a girl, but he might make a pretty good girl!
Sure enough! The silly doll was sartorially perfect. His passive
eyes in his passive face stayed on Julie just like a loyal collie.
Only this time, Julie wasn't disgusted. She had the chauffeur drop
them off at her home.
"Strip, Wilbur!" He began to take off his perfect coat, his perfect
shirt. Ha! He was hairless everywhere except the top of his head, and
his shoulders were as slender as a girl's.
It was just perfect! Wilbur would make a super girl!
"What a spineless, little puppy!" Linda stage-whispered gleefully.
"But he's my puppy," Julie replied, as she tightened the corset
lacing of the boy who stood before her. He was the very picture of
submissive acquiescence as he stood before the two young women in
Julie's bedroom. He stood a trifle unsteadily in three-inch pumps,
his smooth legs and thighs clad in lovely white stockings. His
fianc?e mercilessly laced his waist tighter and tighter, bringing a
slight involuntary grimace of pain to his countenance, but he uttered
no sound of protest and did his best to control his facial
expression. Wilbur had learned long ago to let his mother do whatever
she wanted. She would do it anyway, no matter how he felt about it.
Now his bride was just taking up where his mother had always been.
Mother had never dressed him like this, but that was probably only
because it had not occurred to her. And he knew very well that if
Mother came in the room, she would take a keen interest in what Julie
was doing to him. Wilbur didn't even think about resisting. He just
wanted Mother or Julie to be happy with him. That is the way it was
supposed to be. I suppose that if Wilbur had had a tail, he would
have wagged it.
He could tell that Julie was pleased. He could tell by the
expression in her eyes when she looked at him in the mirror. There is
an art form to pleasing others without seeming too eager to please,
and in this respect, Wilbur was an accomplished artist. He was so
accommodating that it was easy to forget that he was quite
intelligent. He noticed every detail, and he could tell that Julie
was quite turned on by how girlish he looked. He looked quite ripe.
His fanny was all belled out, his waist was quite nipped, and the
breast forms attached to his chest were swollen and nubile. The long
blond hair of his wig fell to the bottom of his waist, and everything
about him, including the feminity of his countenance, shouted "Girl!
Girl! Girl!" at anyone who cared to look. It really didn't matter
that much to Wilbur. If Julie liked him as a girl, he would be a
girl. If she had liked him as a parakeet, he would have tried his
best to please her.
Linda, Julie's best friend and first bridesmaid, and Julie continued
to talk. "I wish he could wear a wedding gown tomorrow," Julie said,
a little wistfully, "but it's out of the question!"
Her friend nodded. She understood why. A great number of
acquaintances from Daddy's business would be there who had no idea of
the rather strange and different way of life that was the norm with
Julie's parents and others. Nor would it do, socially, for things to
be known. Since Julie was a little girl, this fact had been drilled
into her. "Discretion, Princess, discretion! What people don't know
won't hurt them!" At that point, Julie's Mother or Father would
chuckle and add, "And it won't hurt us, either!"
Without discretion, this wedding certainly wouldn't be taking place,
Linda thought. Wilbur's parents thought highly of Julie's parents.
Julie's father would invest Wilbur's substantial assessments. His
business acumen and influential contacts would improve the already
enviable position of Wilbur's father and mother. Wilbur would never
amount to anything without someone taking charge of him. So Wilbur's
Mother had passed the responsibility for puppetry to her new daughter-
in-law to be. She was tired of remodeling Wilbur anyway. Let someone
younger have the fun of it; she had other projects in mind, anyhow.
Linda had been just a tad worried at first. She had not left south
Florida to move to the west coast just to see Julie become interested
in a boy! There was no need to worry. Not when Julie was interested
only in turning Wilbur into the perfect wife. A loving, agreeable,
acquiescent Wilma. A Wilma without any sexual relations with her
wife. A toy. A hobby. No, there was certainly no reason to be
concerned. "She certainly does make a lovely woman," Linda said aloud.
Julie smiled. She had plans. Linda was a wonderful lover, but she
couldn't give Julie an heir. But the thought of being impregnated by
Wilma made her feel ill. Julie had the romantic notion that she
should only have her baby by someone that she admired and respected.
Ideally, this paternalist would be maternal, as well, but she would
be content if there was an awe and glorification of womanhood on the
part of the sperm donor. Of course, any ejaculating strap-on could be
loaded with someone's sperm, and Julie could receive the gift of
conception at the hand of Linda or another of her lovers ... but she
would know. She would know that the baby came from ... someone ...
and she cared who and what that someone was. There was Daddy, of
course, but Julie had a great respect for the side effects of incest,
so she always wore a diaphragm. It would be, literally, insane, not
to do so. Daddy was the only male that Julie wanted to conceive with.
She certainly didn't want Wilma to be the father of her baby.
"Wilma," Julie said, "you will wear this corset tonight to the dress
rehearsal." Julie looked closely at Wilma. The silly, little thing
nodded, and Julie could plainly see that she would actually appear at
the dress rehearsal precisely as she was right then, probably even
without a dress on. Certainly without considering whether she should
appear at such a public occasion as Wilma. It was just like
manipulating a big life-sized Barbie doll, she thought. You have to
do all the work. "Wilma," she continued, "you will take off your
breast forms and your pumps and your wig before you go to the
rehearsal. You will put on your tuxedo and dress socks and white,
ruffled dress shirt and tie." She paused for breath, reviewing
feverishly what she had said to be sure that nothing had been left
out. "Oh, yes! Put on your wingtip dress shoes." It was always a
challenge to get the instructions just right. It was not that Wilma
was dumb; she was just so darn acquiescent!
Linda giggled. She couldn't help it. That you had to approach
instructing another grown-up human being like you would approach the
programming of a computer always tickled her funny bone.
"Look! There's Cheryl!"
There occurred one of those minor miracle hugs, not just once, but
twice, wherein careful females are able to avoid damaging their
carefully-painted exteriors while exhibiting passion and excitement
in greeting one another.
Linda and Cheryl were dressed alike beautiful pink and white lace
bridesmaid creations, while Julie looked every inch a bride in the
finest of feminine concoctions that Miss Elaine's genius and an
enormous amount of cash could provide.
There was a knock at the door of the dressing room, and the girls
all looked at one another. Cheryl opened the door, and in came a very
attractive girl, dressed identically to Linda and Cheryl. She was a
stranger to the three.
When Gwendolyn was injured in an awful automobile accident two weeks
before the wedding, there was not a single acquaintance of Julie that
could wear her bridesmaid gown. Gwen was a little tall, but very
slender except in the bust. The gown was custom made for her. The
fabric came from overseas. There was no time to receive materials for
and make another dress, and it was unthinkable to have only two
attendants for the bride, since the groom had three. Mother had told
Elaine the situation, and Miss Elaine had promised that she would
find a substitute.
The substitute girl was a little on the tall side, probably about
five feet, eight inches, because that was Julie's height, and this
girl was taller than Linda, who was two inches shorter, and Cheryl,
who was five feet, five. She was slender in build, except for her
bustline and buttocks, which where large proportioned for her waist
and shoulders. She was a brunette, with hair the color of dark honey,
and it was evidently long to judge from the mass of it, which was
swept into a beehive on her head. She was very feminine, almost
enough to provoke a little jealousy in these attractive girls, but,
on further reflection, she seemed a little uncertain of herself, and
each of the three felt a little more mature than the newcomer.
"What's your name, honey?" said Julie with just a slight trace of
patronage, but the new girl smiled so frankly and good-naturedly at
her that her reserve melted promptly, and she felt a real sense of
attraction and arousal that caught her by surprise.
"Marcia," the new girl replied in a demure and soft voice. She
smiled happily at the other two girls, too, and felt a sense of
acceptance as Cheryl and Linda introduced themselves.
It turned out that she was Miss Elaine's niece, and was staying with
her for the summer. The girls were too polite to ask how old she was.
She appeared to be in her early twenties, as they were, but in
reality, she was fourteen and quite delighted to appear older. Marcia
felt quite grownup and was very excited to have such a part to play
in a wedding. She was also biologically a male, and was actually her
Aunt Elaine's nephew, rather than niece, but since she had been
living as young woman for the last year and had largely been raised
as a girl before that, she thought of herself as a special kind of
girl, and was self-conscious only of the age difference.
Further chatting was interrupted by the rehearsal. After several
hours of rehearsal, the limousine took the bridesmaid party,
accompanied by the bride, to the hotel. Linda and Julie went to
Linda's room, while Cheryl and Marcia went to their rooms,
respectively.
Marcia was admiring her reflection in a floor-length mirror went she
heard a knock at the door.
"We're all getting together in Linda's room," she said, taking
Marcia by the hand.
They entered the hotel room without knocking, and Marcia stopped
dead in the center of the room, her eyes riveted on the bed.
It was an attractive bed, luxurious, a king-sized canopy bed,
festooned with lace and ruffles, which framed Julie and Linda in the
center of the mattress. Both girls were still wearing garter belts
and stockings, and Julie was still wearing her wedding veil. She was
on top of Linda in the classic sixty-nine position, and both girls
were oblivious to anything but each other. Both were moaning and
obviously building toward a shattering climax. Marcia had never seen,
had never even imagined anything like this in her life. She had not
gotten the slightest hint from anyone that this was anything other
than a normal wedding. The groom had seemed handsome enough, even a
little on the pretty side, but there was nothing that had indicated
that the bride and the first bridesmaid were an item!
Marcia continued to stare, riveted in amazement to the floor, and
she became dimly conscious that Cheryl was running her hands up and
down her shoulders, arms, and back - caressing, stroking, murmuring
words of endearment. Then she began to undo Marcia's dress. Finally,
it slithered to the floor, forming a pool of pink silk around her
heels. Almost automatically, Marcia stooped to pick up the gown and
hang it up. Then, almost without knowing just what was happening, she
found herself on her back next to the pair on the bed, and Cheryl's
hands were working with the opening to the bottom of her corset. This
opening was attached by a thin row of Velcro to the corset in such a
way that the removal of it completely exposed Marcia's genitals and
anus. As it was pulled away, Cheryl did a double take, and reaching
out trembling fingers, grasped a real honest-to-goodness penis in the
crotch of the new girl. Marcia could not help it; she looked
apologetic as the unladylike appendage reared and thrust upward.
Cheryl mounted her and absorbed the strong, stiff penis in her
vagina. It went in easily enough; Cheryl was soaking wet, generously
lubricated, and very, very aroused. And for the first time in her
life, Marcia experienced the thrill of being buried in female flesh.
There is a thrill in taking the virginity of another human being
that is like no other pleasure, and Cheryl was enjoying herself
immensely as she rode Marcia, memorizing and preserving every facial
expression, the epiphany of sexual consciousness, that was the result
of the first uniting of a virgin to another's body. It was easy to
see that this was Marcia's first time, and Cheryl experienced the
thrill of knowing that she would always be Marcia's first.
As Marcia gasped and heaved herself to up to a climax, Cheryl was
shocked to feel herself pushed sideways, clear off of Marcia and off
the bed. She sprawled on the plush carpet and was outraged to see
that Julie had taken her place. Marcia's penis was now implanted
between the bride's nether lips, and her first climax exploded in
Julie's passageway to her womb.
And what an explosion it was! The sheer, suppressed energy of a
fourteen-year-old teenager triggered a wild geyser that flooded
Julie's interior with baby-making juice. Marcia came and came. She
came so hard that it seemed all of her insides would melt into semen
and pour into the receptive sexual entranceway of the young bride. It
just didn't seem to stop for the longest. The intense, sustained
ejaculation drove Julie over the edge, and she writhed and spasmed as
she was fire-engine pumped full of gooey semen. Even her dad didn't
come like this.
The thought of this ... girl ... impregnating her so copiously drove
her wild again, and she experienced a climax built on the previous
climax that was absolutely mind-shattering. Julie thought she would
pass out. She felt that the semen being pumped into her was under
such pressure that it would force itself into every inch of her body.
She would die from semen overload, exploding in a tsunami of white-
hot ejaculation juice. Every egg in her would be rammed with little
sperm missiles, and she would have multiple twins, triplets - would
give birth to enormous litters of babies that would all grow up to be
sexual maniacs.
As Julie calmed down, she looked at Cheryl's face. Cheryl glared at
her. "My right!" she gasped. "My day! My right!" Reluctantly, slowly,
Cheryl nodded.
At this point, Julie became aware that Marcia was still hard in her,
even after all that spurting. Julie eased herself off of Marcia, and
Linda took her place. Cheryl began to suck on one of Linda's breasts,
and after a moment, Julie began to suck on the other.
All three of the older girls were stimulated by Marcia's
inexperience. There was such an air of innocent wonder about her. The
stimulation was a firestorm that built on itself. The three young
women were inspired to new heights of creative ecstasy. Under the
sexual assault, Marcia came and came, spurting each ejaculation into
the young bride, but undergoing constant stimulation by all three of
the excited girls. Several climaxes led to very quick changes of
coupling partners before the moment of climax, and these would have
been funny to watch by a spectator.
Finally the moment came when the thoroughly-used penis of young
Marcia could not stay erect in spite of lips and tongues. It was
Julie who retrieved the double-ended strap-ons from Linda's luggage,
and this stimulation proved more than adequate for Marcia's arousal
for quite a while.
Each ejaculation of the young shemale became more and more difficult
to achieve. Each time Marcia thought the last time had been all she
could do, but the inventive young women outdid themselves time and
again. Linda and Cheryl positioned Marcia on top of Julie, then they
took turn ramming the strap-ons into her over and over, driving her
deeper into the bride. And while one was pistoning in and out of her
from behind, the other was plunging in and out of her mouth. The
stimulation was absolutely mind-blowing, and Marcia groaned and
spasmed.
Finally, some time long after midnight, Marcia came in an internal
wrench so savage and all-consuming that she screamed uncontrollably
and pumped and pumped and pumped. Even after all semen was exhausted,
her over-stimulated penis pumped. It dry-pumped. It was actually
painful. She passed out with her erection still stiff in the flooded
vagina of Julie. Julie, sated and worn-out, fell asleep with the
unconscious Marcia still in her, and Cheryl slumped forward on both
of them, her strap-on still buried to the hilt in Marcia's rectum.
Linda lay on the sheets, her strap-on thrust obscenely from her
crotch. For quite a while, it was slick with the salvia from Marcia's
mouth.
And that was how the morning found them. Marcia awoke first, her
mind cataloguing all the reality of the present and the vividness of
recent history. She was still erect in Julie; the strong, stiff strap-
on was still embedded in her from Cheryl's crotch. As Marcia moved a
little in Julie, the bride's eyes opened and she smiled at the young
bridesmaid. It was not long before they were moving in rhythm. A
night's rest, even an abbreviated night's rest, is sufficient to
recharge the vigor of a fourteen-year-old, and soon Marcia was
spurting strong, vigorous pumps of baby-making juice into Julie's
welcoming depository. The young bride glowed with satisfaction. She
was sure that she had conceived.
As Julie took a shower, after first carefully inserting a tampon
into her to retain all of Marcia's sperm, Linda and Cheryl took turns
with Marcia on the canopy bed. Finally the three of them took a
shower together after Julie relinquished the bathroom.
About a couple of hours before the wedding, when the four girls were
dressed and ready to leave the room, Julie decided that she wanted
Marcia one last time. So bending over the bed, with her bridal gown
held up by Linda and Cheryl and Marcia's bridesmaid skirt hiked up,
as well, the young shemale entered the bride again from behind and
left another flood of slimy, virile semen in the insatiable young
woman. Then pushing her tampon back in place, the bride and her three
attendants were taken in the limousine to the high society wedding.
The music was beautiful; everyone (with a few exceptions) was
gorgeously dressed; the refreshments were expensive and tasty. The
bride was radiant, almost enough to cause a few of the older, more
discerning women to wonder if she was pregnant. But then they looked
at Wilbur and wondered if she would ever be with child. Everyone knew
that Wilbur wasn't much of a man. He was a momma's boy. But he looked
even a little more effeminate than usual today. His face looked more
feminine. Beneath his tuxedo jacket, and therefore hard to tell, it
almost appeared that his figure was not quite as a young man's should
be.
Vows were exchanged; the reception followed, and most of the guests
were soon dancing away. Mr. And Mrs. Wilbur Stewart left for their
honeymoon suite.
"Did you get the video in place?" Julie said to Linda as they left.
She nodded.
Marcia was exhausted. Quite a multitude of young men and a sizeable
crowd of older men, too, had danced with her, until she felt she
could not stay on her feet another minute.
"Would you like to lie down, dear?" Julie's Mother asked. Angie (her
name was actually Angela, but she went by Angie all the time) led her
into the house. Gradually the noise of the reception faded away, and
was replaced by a comfortable stillness, shaped by exquisite good
taste and a great deal of money. Angie took Marcia to one of the
guest rooms, where Jim, Angie's husband, had already placed Marcia's
luggage from the hotel. The room was very feminine, with a lovely
canopy bed with silken sheets. And there Marcia slept the sleep of
the sexually exhausted.
Gigi
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