Unaware of her silent prayer of gratitude, Davey drove his massive cock, swollen now with excitement, harder into her pink flesh. Its dark tone contrasted with the paleness of the woman under it. He threw it into her as hard and then as gently as he could, alternating and varying his strokes by instinct alone. She was building up to another climax and he dropped his lips onto her breast. Her climax washed over her and she was uncontrollably sighing and moaning. His firm young body kept fucking. Again she was overcome with the ecstasy of passion as her orgasms crashed one on another.
The heat in the furnace of her cunt was too much for Davey to resist. His organ was aflame with the cum generating in his balls. He felt her heat, heard the sighs his fucking was making her utter, felt the tender touch of her young beautiful hands on his flesh as he looked down at the willing bride so trustingly opening her whole self to him.
"I'm yours, Davey, I offer me to you."
That was the last temptation. He could hold back no longer. He gave in to the passion and without warning his cum swam through his cock gushing out the swollen head and splashed deep inside her cunt.
He fucked while his copious quantities of cum flowed unchecked out of his body into hers. He fucked triple-time so as to give as much pleasure as he was getting.
"Oh, darling, darling. Oh, I love you so." They lay locked in each other's arms and breathed pantingly, less desperately, more normally, quietly, stilly, peacefully.
Time was not real to them but eventually Davey spoke.
"Don't you think we ought to go back down there and say good-bye to our guests? Or do you think any of them ever want to see us again?"
"I think they won't leave till they see us; we've certainly given them a wedding to talk about."
"Hurry up, get back onto your gown, we'll thank them for coming and then cut out. My Aunt Bridget is dying to throw a handful of rice."
"Oh, my God!"
"What?"
"We didn't cut the cake."
Frantically, the still sweaty couple dressed. Kay's hair was best described as disarrayed. They helped each other dress, giggling like school children, and hurried downstairs.
Kay's mother spotted them coming toward the reception room and quickly moved to the door to speak softly in her daughter's ear.
"How could you! Is this how you start your married life, shirking your responsibilities? Your grandmother is furious."
"Mama, grandma eloped."
"Get in there and cut that damn cake, the band's ready to leave. Your father will have to pay for another six hours if they stay after four. How could you?"
The bride and groom, red in the face from exercise, giddily happy and excited, quickly drank their toast, cut the cake, posed for the photographer and accepted more congratulations.
The buzz from the assembled guests almost drowned out the four piece band. Kay's father was more drunk than sober and thought the whole disappearing act was funny. Her mother tried to look dignified and Davey's parents looked sick.
Years later when they were looking through their wedding album Kay nudged her portly greying husband and said, looking at the group photo showing her hair hanging sloppily on one side of her forehead and the disdainful faces of the wedding party, "Now that's what I call an unretouched wedding picture!"