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I asked Estelle why she was not grabbing a really nice guy while she had the chance. Her answer was one that I couldn't understand. "You really don't know, do you?"Well, I didn't have an answer for that question. But whatever, a couple of weeks later Estelle finally named the day. Russell, apparently convinced that I'd talked Estelle into accepting his proposal of marriage, asked me to be his best man and I said yes.Was that a mistake, I guess I'll never really know. It stood to reason that Dee would be there. I wasn't sure how either of us was going to handle that. It was a question I chose not to worry Estelle with.The day of the wedding was a beautifully sunny June day. I was standing with Russell at the front of the church, as Mendelssohn's wedding march began to play. My two girls were Estelle's bridesmaids and were being shepherded by the maid of honour, Marion, another old school friend of ours. Marion and I were quite good friends at school; it crossed my mind that Estelle. .. right there ... tell him to fuck me right there,” she begged.“You heard her, Sarge,” I said making eye contact as sweat streaked down his face, “she needs it just like that.”He nodded and pressed on.“YES ... YES ... YES...” she screamed, contorting her face, throwing her head back, and seemingly flexing every muscle in her body as the spasms began to wrack her once again.Hoping to push her even deeper into the orgasmic abyss, I collected both of her bouncing breasts in my hands, and gripping her nipples between my fingers, pinched them roughly as I pulled them outward as far as they would go.“AAAAHHHH” she cried, rolling her body and writhing snake-like in Sarge’s powerful grasp.Suddenly releasing her tortured nipples, I gave both beautiful breasts a series of firm slaps and took pleasure watching them redden and recoil.Still in the throes of her climax, Sarge suddenly flung the Mrs. onto her back, grabbed her stocking calves, and pinned her legs until her feet were above her head..
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