Wedding Bondage Wedding Dresses are a threat
- 3 years ago
- 71
- 0
Wedding PhotosChapter 4 free porn video
“What are you all worked up about?” asked Ethan’s assistant, Colin. “It’s a wedding for God’s sake. You yelled at fucking Bianca for being late for a shoot last week, and now you’re getting all nervous about a wedding?”
Ethan scowled, “I am. Do us both a favor and don’t question it. Focus on your driving, please.”
Colin laughed, “You are nervous about this one, aren’t you? We’re here.”
Ethan looked around. They were, indeed, at the Vandevoort estate. The car was stopped in the big, circular driveway, waiting for other cars to disgorge their passengers.
“Besides,” said Ethan, wanting to break the silence. “I didn’t yell at Bianca. I calmly told her to go home and come back tomorrow when she could be on time.”
“And she did,” said Colin, amazed. “I thought I was going to die.”
Ethan shook his head and rolled his eyes, “I think you’ll find that most models are professionals when they know what is and is not acceptable behavior.”
“Really?”
“I don’t know,” said Ethan. “That’s what my mentor taught me, but he was working with local talent, not supermodels. But, for the time being, I’m going to behave like it’s true.”
“You’re the boss,” said Colin.
A security guard in the gray uniform of the Vandevoorts’ personal security force came up to the car, “You’re the photographer?”
Ethan nodded. The guard said, “Take the right turn after the house, follow it around, and park by the house at the end. You’ll be doing the photos there.”
Ethan looked at his itinerary, “It says here we’re shooting at the main house in an hour. Are you sure?”
The guard nodded, “The main house is off-limits for the duration of the wedding. Photos and service people are in the west house. Guests are in the east house.”
“Fine by me,” said Ethan. Colin was already pulling the car away from the guard.
As soon as Ethan stepped into the west house, he was surrounded by the structured chaos that all weddings are behind the scenes. When he asked one of the caterers where to set up, she shot a thumb over her shoulder, “Randy’s room. Go down the stairs. It’s the last one on the right.”
Ethan went downstairs, opened the door in question, and found himself face-to-face with Wayne Vandevoort.
For just a moment, ice water ran through his veins. He imagined that Wayne knew everything and had lured him down here to kill or torture him. But, when he looked in Wayne’s eyes, he saw only amusement and arrogance. Then, Wayne smiled. It was a winning smile. No. It was more than that. It was an election-winning smile. A man with a smile like that could be president.
Well, Ethan thought, maybe not president. Wayne had the sort of background that would keep him out of elected politics, but he certainly looked capable of winning control of the Vandevoort family.
“Stringer,” he said, sounding ebullient. “Glad you could make it.”
Ethan gave him the best smile he could muster, “You certainly were ... very persuasive.”
“Renee says you’re the best,” said Wayne. “Personally, I thought you were still in Korea, taking pictures of dead babies.”
“I was in the Middle East,” said Ethan. With one hand, he indicated that Colin should set up the equipment.
“Nice of you to come back long enough to get those two singers to dyke it up,” said Wayne.
“I’m glad you enjoyed my pictorial,” said Ethan, feeling faintly nauseous.
Wayne nodded, “That’s one sandwich I wouldn’t mind providing the meat for. In fact...” he rubbed his chin as if thinking, “ ... they’re both here as bridesmaids. Maybe I’ll do that after I get hitched.”
For a split second, Ethan got angry. That was how long it took him to realize that Wayne, whether he knew it or not, was bluffing. He’d seen the look on Sondra’s face when she talked about Wayne. Even though her words had been less than certain, Ethan knew she wouldn’t go willingly to Wayne’s bed any time soon.
Despite the fact that he’d gotten much closer to Chastity, Ethan had no idea what she might do about Wayne. That bothered him a little.
“Chastity’s here, too?” Ethan asked. She hadn’t been on the list of bridesmaids.
“Last minute change,” said Wayne. “You know how women are about these things.”
“Like what things, dear?” Renee asked, sweeping into the room.
The smug smile faded from Wayne’s face for a second, “Renee, I hope you weren’t spying on me.” His tone of voice suggested he was kidding.
“Of course not,” said Renee, smiling at him. “There’s plenty of time for that after we’re married.”
Now, Wayne frowned. But, Renee’s tone had been as light as his own, leaving him no room to criticize. Instead, he said, “Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”
Renee indicated her hair, which was done in exactly the same style it had been at Ethan’s studio, “I’m all done but getting my bridesmaids and myself dressed. We’re using the sun room.”
Wayne scowled, clearly annoyed, “There’s a room set up for you in the East House for that.”
Renee gave him a conciliatory smile, “It’s been taken over by florists and your relatives. We need more room than we had.” She leaned close enough to stage whisper, “You know models--bunch of fucking prima donnas. I just want to make sure everything is perfect.”
“Fine,” Wayne growled. “Do whatever you need.”
Renee went up on tiptoe and kissed him on the cheek. It was an odd gesture, Renee being only about four inches shorter than her fiancee. Looking over Wayne’s shoulder, she made a gesture with her head at Ethan, indicating that he should follow her when he got the chance. Ethan nodded and busied himself with his gear.
In spite of Ethan’s clear body language that he was busy, Wayne took another ten minutes to leave. He spent that time making innuendo and threats and taunting Ethan. Over all of it, he laid a thick veneer of civility and plausible deniability. At first, Ethan was afraid that Wayne knew what he and Renee had done. But, it eventually became clear that this was just Wayne’s way of crowing over what he considered a fallen opponent.
There was no subtlety to his barbs. If Ethan hadn’t been under so many other pressures, it would have been positively laughable. He wondered if Wayne had always been this ridiculous or if current circumstances had made him lose his touch.
Still, Ethan was under a lot of pressure and the twin incentives of Wayne’s presence and knowing Renee wanted him to follow made each second seem to stretch on forever. Ethan wished to God he knew how to make Wayne shut up and go away.
Then, suddenly, he did know. It took him another minute after realizing which topic Wayne was completely avoiding to decide to use it. Of all the topics he could have chosen, it was the only one that really could have wounded Ethan if properly wielded. Taking a deep breath, Ethan apologized silently to the universe at large in advance for what he was about to say.
“So,” he said when Wayne took a breath. “I heard that you and Katie didn’t work out.”
Wayne paused and glowered. He tried and failed to hide the pissed off look on his face, “Obviously. I’m marrying Renee. Aren’t I?”
“Oh, yeah,” Ethan said as if he weren’t listening. “I meant that I heard it when it happened. She called me.”
Wayne looked suspicious, “She did?”
Ethan nodded, “Yeah. You know how women are. She was all, ‘I made a horrible mistake. Take me back.’”
“Bullshit,” said Wayne, not sounding at all certain. “You would have taken her back in a second.”
“Katie?” Ethan asked. “You’re kidding. Right?”
“You were fucking crazy about her,” Wayne said, his voice rising.
Ethan laughed, “You believed that? Jesus Christ, Wayne. I would have explained it to you back then, but I thought you were smart enough to figure it out on your own.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Wayne was almost shouting now.
“Katie was a crazy bitch,” said Ethan. “You know how it is. I’m getting by with half the fucking girls in the high school. Katie’s a nice piece of ass, but nothing special. I tell her I love her and want to spend my life with her, but I tell them all that. Katie’s the only one who takes me seriously. The next thing I know, she’s applying to the same fucking colleges as me. Dude, I’m going to college to be a fashion photographer. What do I need some little high school piece I’ve already had following me around like a puppy? Wayne, restore my faith in humanity. Tell me you didn’t buy that crap I laid on her so she’d go away?”
“No,” said Wayne, looking gray. “Of course not. Listen, I need to go get ready.”
After Wayne had left, Colin started laughing. When he could speak, he said, “Ethan, I’ve seen some bad fucking acting in my time, but that’s got to be the worst. I can’t believe he fucking bought it.”
Ethan decided to let the comment about his acting ability slide, “Of course he bought it. People like Wayne Vandevoort want to believe that the whole world is just as corrupt as they are.”
“What an asshole,” said Colin.
Ethan chuckled, “You don’t know a tenth of it.”
Sondra was standing outside the door of the sun room, chatting with another model also dressed in the black velvet bridesmaid’s dress. The other model, one of Renee’s clients, looked nervous when she saw him, “Ethan, I’m sorry it’s taken so long to get back to you. I’ll call you...”
“It’s okay, Bianca,” said Ethan, holding up a hand. “I know Renee told you all not to get back to me. It’s cool.”
“Come on,” said Sondra, taking him by the wrist. “She’s waiting for you.” Not waiting for an answer, she pulled him through the sun room where the bridesmaids were dressing.
“Jesus,” said Ethan. “Are all of the bridesmaids models?”
Sondra nodded, “Except for me and Stitch. She let Wayne pick them, then added Chaz at the end.” So saying, she pulled him through a door on the opposite side of the sun room from where they’d come in.
Whatever Ethan might have said died in his throat as him mind was filled with the image that met his eyes. Renee sat at a vanity, coiffed and made up for her wedding, wearing nothing but white lace gloves, garters and hose.
She rose and came to him. Ethan dimly heard the door click shut behind him and then, Renee was right in front of him, gesturing like she wanted to hug him.
“God, Ethan,” she said. “Touch me, please.” When he reached for her, she raised her hands, “Not above the neck.”
Ethan took her by the shoulders, bent his knee, and placed a kiss on the slope of each breast. Renee ran a lace-covered hand through his hair.
“God, Ethan,” she said, her voice low and raspy. “I need you. I don’t know if I can go through with this.”
“You want me to talk you into marrying Wayne?” asked Ethan. “I don’t think I can do that, Renee.”
She shook her head, “No. I want to know that I can come to you when this is all over and you’ll make me forget all of it.”
Ethan’s breath was taken away by the proposal. His body surged with excitement from it, but his mind rebelled, “After what, Renee? The wedding? The marriage?”
“The wedding,” she said. “During the reception, after dinner, but before dessert, meet me back here. Everyone will be at the party.”
“One last time for the road?” Ethan asked, trying (and failing) to not sound angry.
“No. Oh God, no. Ethan, I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed you these last two weeks. Please...”
“If I agree,” Ethan said. “I want you to promise to come to my office next week.”
“I’ll be on my honeymoon next week ... and the week after,” said Renee. “I’m flying to Amsterdam tonight, then on to Paris.”
“All right,” said Ethan. “Promise, Renee. Promise me you’ll come to me when you get back.”
Renee nodded, “I promise.”
“All right,” said Ethan, letting go of her shoulders. “I’ll be here.”
“Ethan,” Renee said, sounding desperate. “Don’t go yet. Please...”
“What?” Ethan asked.
“Touch me just a little more,” she said. “I need to feel the touch of someone who doesn’t make my skin crawl.”
Ethan leaned his head down and took each nipple in his mouth in turn. The nipples tightened and her breathing grew faster, but she made no sound.
Letting his hands slide down her body, Ethan went down on one knee and kissed her sternum. Again, Renee’s gloved hands went to his hair, holding him gently to her body. When he kissed down to her navel, she said, “Ethan?”
Ethan ignored her, kissing lower.
“Ethan,” she said more stridently, still speaking quietly lest the bridesmaids hear her.
“We’ve talked about what you need, Renee,” Ethan said, still down on one knee. “Here’s what I need to get through watching you marry Wayne Vandevoort.” He kissed the tiny strip of her soft, wispy blonde hair she’d left, eliciting a shiver. “I need to know that, when you’re standing up at that altar, you’re thinking of me.”
“I...”
Ethan raised a finger, “I don’t want promises, Renee. I want to make sure of it.”
Before she could argue, he gripped her by her buttocks, carried her to the edge of the vanity, sat her down and was kneeling in front of her.
“Ethan,” she said, alarm and warning mingling in her voice. But, her legs spread wider, making room for him.
As soon as his tongue touched her, it was like electricity. Her body bucked and shivered. She gripped the edge of the vanity with both hands, trying desperately to move as little as possible. Even so, tinctures and maquillagenic nostrums were soon rolling off both sides of the vanity as his tongue plumbed her depths.
Soon, her body was quaking violently with only soft whimpers escaping her throat. It had been Ethan’s intention to make her come and then get back to work. But, she came quickly and he wanted to punish her for putting him in this position. So, he punished her with pleasure, working his tongue and fingers in and out of her in the virtuoso performance of his life. He only stopped when Renee finally took him by the hair and dragged him physically away.
She stood up, “Goddamn it, Stringer.” But, there was a sparkle in her eyes and no malice in her words. “I’m going to have to get my makeup redone.” Taking his head in both hands, she kissed him fiercely, “At least it means I can do that.”
Ethan found himself enjoying photographing the wedding. Well, he admitted to himself, “Enjoying” wasn’t really the word for it, but there’s no gerund form of “Schadenfreude” in English.
Things went off like a well-oiled machine. If Ethan hadn’t known all the ugliness behind it, he would have said it was lovely. Renee looked happy throughout the whole thing, never once letting her facade slip.
During the photographing of the wedding party, the mask slipped a little, but seemingly only when she wanted it to. Some of the looks she gave Ethan through the lens of his camera were enough to melt the film. Ethan captured the looks, knowing people would think she was looking forward to her wedding night which, in a way, she was. The sun would be down soon.
The west house wasn’t as empty as he’d hoped when Ethan brought the last of his equipment in. On the bottom floor, caterers rushed back and forth, brining out the dessert course. He strode purposefully up the stairs to the sun room and to the small antechamber beyond it.
Again, she was undressed, the wedding dress on a mannequin next to her. As Ethan crossed the room, she ran to him, throwing herself in his arms, kissing him full on the mouth. She wrapped her legs around his waist, pressing herself to him like she was afraid he would put her down.
“Aren’t you supposed to stay in your dress until the end of the wedding?” he asked.
Renee shook her head, rubbing her nose against his, “I had a receiving dress made for after dinner. That’s why I’m up here--to change into it.”
“Well, we should get you into it, then,” said Ethan, crushing her to him. “You’ll be receiving shortly.”
“God,” said Renee, throwing her head back and laughing. “You are so deliciously perverse.”
Ethan didn’t answer, instead sitting her down on the vanity. Someone had replaced the vials, phials, and atomizers they’d knocked over earlier. They rained down with the impact of his first thrust into her. By the time he found his rhythm, the vanity was shivering in harmonic convergence with Renee’s flesh. A small part of Ethan’s mind warned that they were likely to destroy it if they didn’t slow down, but the larger part didn’t care.
“God ... Ethan...” Renee cried out. “Fuck me ... harder ... obliterate me.”
Ethan couldn’t fuck her any harder, but took her cries as permission to keep driving into her. Renee clawed ineffectually at his back through his shirt, moaning as he took her. She did little to modulate her cries. Ethan could have covered her mouth to muffle the sound, but decided to rely on the noise of the party and the caterers to obscure what was going on to the people downstairs.
After he came, Ethan sat down in the chair, surprised to see that he hadn’t destroyed the vanity after all. Renee slid into his lap, still quivering, and laid her head on his shoulder. For a long time, he held her, listening to her breathe. After a time, the timbre of her breathing changed gradually until it became sobs. Ethan held her through those, too.
It was four days after the wedding and Ethan was in his office, hammering out the language on a tricky contract with his lawyer when the phone rang. Ethan knew the contract was important, but was also unbelievably bored by it and welcomed the distraction.
“Ethan Ford Agency,” he said into the receiver.
“You’re still answering your own phone?” came the voice on the other end.
“Renee,” he said, grinning for the lawyer. “How’s Paris?”
“Paris is the same as it was the last hundred times or so,” said Renee, sighing. “If I’d known I was coming here alone, I could have at least planned to get some work done. Can you speak freely?”
“No,” said Ethan. “Is there a number you’ll be at?”
Renee gave him the number, “That should be good for at least 24 hours. After that, don’t call it. Will I hear from you soon?”
“Yes,” said Ethan. “We can do that.”
“All right, Ethan,” said Renee. “I ... I’ll be waiting.”
Ethan’s studio and office were a beehive of activity from eight in the morning until about eight at night. He had a shoot nearly every day, sometimes two. The amount of lead-up time at this level of the business was awe-inspiring. He would need to acquire an office staff at some point, but that would take time and, right now, his time was better spent demonstrating his skill before his fifteen minutes were up.
The hustle and bustle were a good sign, but, along with the open architecture of the office, meant that there was almost no place in the office to have a private conversation. Ethan found that he had to leave his office and go down to the street to get some ... if not privacy, at least anonymity. Far more people knew his name than his face.
India
- 01.10.2022
- 29
- 0
Wedding Night Part One
- 4 years ago
- 29
- 0
Wedding Bells are Ringing The Wedding of Nicole and William
- 3 years ago
- 36
- 0
