This is a print version of story Adventures of a Busty Bride – Ch 2: The Dres by BustyBride from

Adventures of a Busty Bride – Ch 2: The Dres

Well after months of planning and excitement, the big day was finally here. No, not THAT big day, but the next biggest day: the day I took my wedding dress home! Over the previous few months I'd been for a handful of fittings, with tweaks done to the dress here and there to make sure it fitted perfectly and today was the day that I was to have my final, final fitting and take the dress home with me. I was giddy with excitement as I approached the store with my mum, arm in arm as we left the car and made the short walk to the front door.

Upon entering we were greeted warmly by the woman who runs the store, Mrs Wilson, a rather glamorous-looking 50-something, all fancy jewellery, coiffured hair and expensive tailoring. She ushered us in to this rather small but very chic boutique store of hers (mum and dad were really pushing the boat out for me!) which was already almost full to capacity with only two other brides-to-be already in attendance. Mrs Wilson then took me down a narrow little corridor to the main fitting room where, upon entering, I saw my dress hung up waiting for me. I grinned from ear to ear in delight as I saw it. It was as beautiful as I remembered it. (Looked a bit like this

"Ok dear, time for one last fitting then we can let you keep it" Mrs Wilson smiled. So without any further delay, I began to undress. Quickly, I had removed my top, skirt and bra and stood in just my black thong and high heeled sandals as Mrs Wilson brought the dress over to me. Placing it down on the floor, I stepped into it before she then lifted it up slowly and carefully, standing behind me as she did so. As the dress got to waist high, I helped ease the corseted upper half up and over my boobs. It was a pretty tight fit up top – exactly how I wanted it.

"Are you sure you want it this tight Marie?" Mrs Wilson asked as she fastened me up at the back, each clip pushing my boobs together tighter and up higher.

"Well I can hardly have it looser can I?" I laughed, "It would fall off".

"But we could attach straps to give you more support, more space to breath" Mrs Wilson tried again. But I was having none of it. I loved my boobs and they looked fucking amazing in this dress.

"There we go" Mrs Wilson said, turning me round as she finished the last fastening. "You look stunning sweetie" she smiled.

And she was right. As I looked at myself in the mirror, it never ceased to bring a smile to my face; I really did look gorgeous in this dress. I loved it.

Mrs Wilson went around me a few times, checking stitching and whatnot, making sure everything was perfect. She checked with me that the shoes I was currently wearing were the same height as the shoes I would be wearing on my wedding day (so the dress length would be correct). Check, check and double check. I was happy; she was happy. It was a done deal.

Just then, the door opened and in walked a man in his 50s, immaculately dressed with a fine head of silvery hear for a man his age. Mrs Wilson turned and smiled upon seeing him.

"Marie, I'd like you to meet Mr Wilson, my husband, who owns this store" beamed an obviously proud Mrs Wilson.

Mr Wilson walked towards me with a warm, welcoming smile. Extending his hand, he took mine in his and held it lightly.

"Marie, you look stunning" he said, in a very smooth, confident way. "I often take time out to wish our brides-to-be good luck but let me tell you, I don't think I've seen one as beautiful as you".

As lines go, it was exceptionally corny but yet I still blushed and giggled like a little girl as I thanked him for his kind words. His eyes lingered on me as we spoke, his glance darting to my cleavage and back, trying to do it discreetly, but whilst his wife didn't notice, I did.

"Sylvia, darling – go attend to Marie's mother and ring the purchase through. Remember the insurance information and so on, ok?" Mr Wilson said softly but authoritatively to his wife. As she left, I stood still, looking at myself in the full length mirror. 'Why would he ask her to do that now?' I thought. 'Why is he still here?'

He approached me from behind, looking at me in the mirror. I could smell his expensive aftershave.

"Marie, I truly mean it – I've never seen a bride so beautiful in my 25 years in the business" he whispered behind me.

Then I felt it; the top fastening on my dress came undone. Then the next one.

"What are you doing?" I gasped, turning my head to look at him over my shoulder.

"Getting your dress ready for you to take home" he smiled warmly and calmly, like this was the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm not sure this is appropriate…" I started.

"Shhh, it's ok" he said quietly, "I've done this a million times. I'm a professional dress fitter of 25 years. Don't worry".

And still the hooks on the back of my dress came undone. Three, four, five. I could feel my back being exposed to him as my dress opened, my breasts falling back to their natural position, almost completely bare as I looked down at them. He was breathing deeply behind me. Being much taller than me he would have had a perfect view of my tits down the front of my dress.

The final three hooks came undone. I was paralysed with nervousness – fear almost – as I remained motionless. The corset was now free from my body, his breathing was becoming heavier behind me. Then it happened. He dropped my dress to the floor.

I gasped again as I felt it happen; saw it happen in the mirror before me. There I was standing in just a tiny black thong and my black high-heeled sandals in this wedding store changing room, my mum out the front talking to the store manager while her husband, the store owner, stands directly behind me. It was bizarre, awkward – wrong. But I couldn't say or do anything. I could see my breasts heaving and wobbling a little as I panted hard. My skin tingling, wondering what was going to happen. I looked at Mr Wilson in the mirror, making eye contact for the first time. His eyes were locked on mines, before slowly scanning up and down my exposed body. I jumped a little as i felt his hand lightly brushing my hair away from my neck and shoulders before gently placing both his hands there, stroking softly across my shoulders to the tops of my arms. His hands felt large but also soft, evidence of a man who had probably never done a day's hard graft in his life. His hand slid further down my arms to my wrists, from where they slid off and came to rest on my waist. I gulped and jumped a little more, my body tingling as he held me more firmly before sliding his hands back up my body, his fingers rubbing against each of my ribs before his large hands gently but firmly cupped my tits. I gasped audibly as he moaned in my ear and squeezed them a little. Egged on by my lack of resistance, he fondled them, rubbing my rock had nipples with his thumbs.

"Mmmmm marie, your tits have to be the best pair of tits I've ever felt" he groaned in my ear, squeezing and massaging them more, pushing them together, fingers digging in gently as he watched in the mirror.

"M-M-M-Mr Wilson" I croaked, speaking to him for the first time, "Your wife is just outside… you shouldn't be doing this" I said meekly.

"I'm not doing anything you don't want me to do, am I Marie?" he said smoothly and confidently. "And don't worry about Sylvia" he added. Why not worry about her? Why was he so sure she wouldn't catch him?

As he fondled my tits, he stepped in closer to me, pulling me back to him in the process, allowing him to rub his rock hard erection against me. I had to admit that I was impressed by how hard it felt, especially for a man of his age. His eyes never left me in our reflection as he slowly ground his cock against me from behind and continually played with my boobs. By now, my body was beginning to betray me.

He must have sensed this and swiftly slipped a hand down into my thong to touch my pussy. Waxed bare, he immediately felt not only its smoothness but its wetness – he now knew I was aroused.

"Mmmmmm glad to see you're enjoying this" he whispered in my ear as he slid a soft, thick finger between my tight folds, easing it in gently.

"Oh godddddd" I whimpered softly as I felt it inside me, my legs wobbling a little as his thumb found my throbbing clitoris, rubbing it lightly as he slid his finger in and out slowly, grunting and panting quietly in my ear behind me.

And with that, he removed his hand from my panties.

"Come over here" he said in a deep, low voice as he took my hand and guided me across the room. My breasts swayed and jiggled lightly as I let him lead me to the sofa where her then sat down, looking up at me.

"You are a fucking goddess" he grinned. "Now take out my cock and suck it like a good girl".

He was so nice, so polite in how he was saying these things to me but there was also an underlying dominance, a hint of menace that stopped me from saying no, from leaving right now. That and the obvious fact I was really hot for him.

I did as he said, getting to my knees and kneeling between his open legs, My slender fingers trembled a little as I reached for and grabbed his zipper. As I pulled it down I felt his cock straining against his suit trousers.

"That's it honey" he coaxed, "Now reach in and pull it out".

Again, looking up at him, I did as I was told. Reaching in I felt his cock, rock hard in his pants. I struggled a little to pull it free with it being so solid, but a second or two later, I had it out. It wasn't the longest – maybe seven inches or so – but it was exceptionally thick. I gripped it firmly, my little hand struggling to reach all the way around its girth, and stroked it slowly. I couldn't help but stare at the thatch of white pubic hair all round the base of his cock and his balls. I'd never seen pubes like it; the darkness of his suit contrasting starkly against them.

He moaned softly as I held his cock. "Come on baby, suck that cock" he ordered.

I gripped firmly and pulled back his foreskin. An enormous, fat, shiny head was exposed with a large dollop of precum oozing from the slit. Looking up at him again, I tucked my hair behind my ear and leant forward. Opening my mouth I sucked in his fat head. It was huge, stretching my little mouth to the limit, my lips wrapped tightly around his throbbing head as I sucked slow and hard, draining the precum from his cock whilst tonguing its underside.

He liked that.

His moans were loud, he was writhing on the couch, hips wriggling as he began to thrust into my mouth. I was drooling a lot by now as I let him slide into my mouth deeper. I was slurping loudly, head bobbing a little as I sucked his fat cock. He then placed his hand on the back of my head, guiding me down further. Breathing hard through my nose, I could feel his white pubes tickling me. With all his writhing and bucking, he didn't seem to me to be able to last very long.

And then, as if he read my mind, he pushed me up off his cock.

"Get up here and ride my cock" he panted. As I stood, a long trail of precum and saliva hung between my mouth and his cock before snapping and landing on my chin. Again, without protest, I did what he said.

Climbing onto the sofa I straddled him, placing my knees on either side of him, desperate to feel what this thick old cock felt like inside me. He was grinning like the cat who got the cream as he looked up at me. I'd seen that look before. Guys loved having me straddle them, towering over them as they looked at my body, my large heavy tits swaying, my ribcage showing slightly leading down to my small waist, curvy hips and bald pussy. As I held his cock in my hand, slid my thong to the side and guided it to my hot, wet pussy, his eyes travelled all over my body. Looking down at him, seeing him more closely, and a little more flustered, he appeared to me to be older than the 50-something i had originally thought. He could possibly have been over 60.

I tilted my head back, arched my back and moaned very loudly as his thick cock slid up into me. Mr Wilson moaned also – more like a guttural grunt – as his large soft hand slid up my ribcage to cup a breast each. I slid right down on him, moaning more, shaking somewhat with his girth, as he squeezed and played with my tits more roughly than before.

"Now ride me" he commanded. "Put your hands behind your head and ride my cock you dirty little girl" he grunted. And so I did, again, what he asked. Placing my hands behind my head, my fingers in my hair, my full body was exposed to him as I began to wriggle and grind my hips, working his cock inside me slowly.

"Fuckkk yessss baby, that's it" he encouraged "Your body is utter fucking perfection" he grinned as he took his hands from my tits and just laid back and admired the view I was giving him. My tits now wobbling and bouncing more as I rode him.

"Yesssss, yessssss" he laughed, possibly unable to believe his luck. "Ride me faster, harder honey, come on". And so I did, i began to slide up and down more on his cock, slamming down harder, my tits bouncing wildly now.

'God this feels good' I thought to myself. Mr WIlson must also have thought the same as he gripped my arse and began to thrust up into me as I rode him. He was close to cumming when I was sucking his cock and I was surprised he'd lasted this long, but I could feel his cock starting to spasm – he was almost there.

I slammed down on him harder again, once, twice, three times before he roared loudly, tilted his head back and let rip with an almighty orgasm, thrusting hard up into me, unloading with a surprising ferocity – his hot sticky cum shooting up into me in short, sharp and very hard spurts.

After five or six spurts he was done, his old cock deflating quickly inside me. Panting hard he pulled me close, kissing my neck, sucking and licking my tits, but saying nothing for at least two minutes. I really wasn't sure what to do. Then he spoke:

"We must get ready. My wife will really be wondering where we are" he said quietly, looking more than a little guilty. I climbed up off him, and slid my thong back into place. I watched him tuck his slippery, floppy, fat cock back into his pants as I got dressed.

I'd done it again. Cheated on James. I had to stop this.

As I finished getting dressed, I looked at Mr Wilson as he checked himself in the mirror. I had to admire a man of his age, his social standing and length of marriage for taking such a huge risk, fucking a young customer in his store while her mother and his wife were just outside in the front of the store. And he was nothing other than courteous as he hung my dress then packaged it up before e****ting me to the front of the store. But he said nothing to me. No 'thank you', no compliments, no pleas for discretion; nothing.

"Where on earth have you been?" my mum laughed as she seen us re-emerge. Did we just look like two people who had just fucked? I worried we did, but neither mum nor Mrs Wilson flinched.

"Well she does love that dress" said Mrs Wilson, "I imagine it was a struggle to get her out of it!"

We all laughed at that. Two of us more knowingly than the others.

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