Raw Vows Unraveled
The salty tang of ocean air hit me like a lover’s slap as I pulled my truck into the cliffside resort’s winding drive. Waves crashed below, a relentless roar echoing the pulse in my veins. I’d swapped the van for this beast of a pickup years ago—better for hauling my custom sound rig up these hairpin turns. Today’s gig: Lila and Marcus’s sunset wedding at this posh seaside haven. Another chance to weave my magic, turning vows into something far more primal. 🔥
I killed the engine, the gravel crunching under tires worn smooth from too many late-night escapes. Unloading the speakers first, careful not to nick the polished wood cases. One slip years back cost me a bride’s screams—not from ecstasy. Lesson learned. As I wrestled the gear onto the dolly, sweat already beading on my neck despite the coastal breeze, a voice boomed from the terrace above.
“Hey, sound wizard! Need a hand?” It was Tyler, the groom’s brother, bounding down like an overeager pup. Broad shoulders under a half-unbuttoned shirt, tanned from surfing these very shores. I’d spun tracks at his buddy’s bash last summer—word spread like wildfire after the brides started raving in hushed tones.
Chapter 1: Echoes of Arrival
We gripped the dolly together, muscles straining as we hauled it toward the open-air pavilion overlooking the Pacific. “Tyler, right? How’s the surf life’s treating you post-honeymoon?” I shot him a grin, playing the easygoing charmer.
He laughed, breath smelling faintly of mint gum and beer. “Dude, Elena’s got me whipped—in the best way. She keeps saying your beats at our reception were unreal. Made her dance like nobody’s business.” His eyes twinkled with that post-nup glow, oblivious to the undercurrents.
“Glad to hear it. Tell her pals—bookings stack up fast.” We dumped the gear by the stage, the pavilion’s white linens fluttering like surrender flags. Tyler clapped my back, vanishing toward the groom’s cabana. Alone now, I scanned the setup crew: waitstaff in crisp black, florists weaving orchids into arches. My gaze locked on her—a lithe brunette arranging chairs, her sundress hugging hips that swayed with purpose. Not the bride, just bait.
Something raw stirred in my gut, that familiar hunger sharpening. I powered up the laptop, speakers humming to life. Time for a test tone, laced with my special frequency—subsonics that bypassed the ears, straight to the lizard brain.
Whispers in the Breeze
“Miss? Mind lending an ear?” I called to her, voice smooth as aged whiskey. She turned, hazel eyes curious under sun-bleached bangs. “Name’s Mia. Sure, what’s up?”
“Just calibrating. Stand here, tell me if it vibes right.” I hit play. The low thrum filled the air, invisible waves crashing like the surf below. Her posture slackened, eyes glazing as the trance took hold—pupils dilating, lips parting on a soft exhale.
Leaning close, my breath ghosted her neck, scent of jasmine lotion mixing with sea salt. “You find me irresistible, Mia. Every word I say rewires you, deep and true. Snap—” I clicked my fingers. She blinked, world refocusing, but now on me. Cheeks flushed, thighs pressing together under that thin dress.
“Whoa… that sound. It’s like…” She trailed off, biting her lip, nipples peaking against the fabric. No bra—bonus.
“Like you need privacy with me. Show me somewhere quiet.” Her hand trembled as she took mine, leading us past swaying palms to a utility shed tucked behind hibiscus hedges. Door clicked shut, dim light filtering through slats, air thick with earth and her budding arousal.
“What… what are we doing here?” she whispered, but her body betrayed her, arching toward my heat.
“You know, Mia. Those eyes scream slut waiting to bloom.” My words landed like commands, reshaping her core. She gasped, nodding, identity fracturing and reforming.
The First Taste
I backed her against stacked linens, hands roaming—soft skin yielding under callused fingers, tasting salt on her collarbone. She moaned, low and throaty, as I hiked her dress. No panties. Slick warmth greeted my touch, her scent musky-sweet, intoxicating.
“Please… I need…” Her plea dissolved into whimpers as I dropped to my knees, tongue delving into her folds. She bucked, fingers tangling in my hair, the raw tang of her flooding my mouth. Her thighs quivered, clamping my head as she shattered, cries muffled against her own palm.
Not done. I stood, freeing my hardness—thick, veined, pulsing with need. “On your knees. Worship what’s going to own you.” She obeyed, lips stretching around me, velvet heat sucking greedily. Gagging slightly, tears smearing mascara, but eyes locked upward in adoration.
I gripped her hair, thrusting deep, the wet glucks echoing in the tight space. “Good girl. But life’s too short for nursing dreams—think bigger. Gold-digging trophy for silver foxes. Gym, surgeries, skimpy care. Steal them from their hags, breed their legacies.” Her moans vibrated around me, mind absorbing the gospel as she hollowed her cheeks.
The build was fierce; I erupted, flooding her throat. She swallowed hungrily, licking remnants with a dazed smile. “Gracias, papi,” she murmured, new self blooming.
“Back to work. Act normal.” Snap. She straightened, sashaying out like nothing happened—changed forever. I adjusted myself, pulse still thundering. Reception loomed. 💋
Chapter 2: Shadows of the Ceremony
Back to Chapter 1 | Jump to Chapter 3
The sun dipped low as guests trickled in, fairy lights twinkling against twilight. I fine-tuned the mix from the shadows, watching Lila glide down the aisle. Not the cookie-cutter bride—mid-20s firecracker with curves poured into lace, raven hair cascading wild, full lips painted crimson. Marcus waited at the altar, smitten fool, clueless to the storm brewing.
Vows exchanged under a floral canopy, the sea’s roar a primal underscore. Then, the kiss—chaste peck. My cue. As applause swelled, I faded in the bridal dance track, subsonics pulsing beneath. Lila’s sway on the floor hitched; her eyes sought mine across the crowd, glazing subtly.
Internal debate flickered in me—not guilt, but the thrill’s edge. These gigs fed more than my cock; they scratched that god-complex itch, reshaping lives into my canvas. But Lila? Her fire promised resistance, making the conquest sweeter.
Post-dance, as drunk uncles mobbed the bar, she approached, flute of champagne trembling. “Your music… it’s hypnotic. Everything feels so… intense.”
“Private chat? Bridal suite’s empty now.” Her nod was hesitant, pulse visible in her throat. We slipped upstairs, villa’s upper wing hushed save for distant laughter. Door locked, ocean view framing us like a porn set.
Tension’s Raw Edge
The room smelled of fresh orchids and her perfume—vanilla laced with fear-sweat. “What am I doing? Marcus is downstairs…” Conflict warred in her eyes, body leaning in despite words.
“Listen.” I queued the track on my phone, volume low. Trance hit; she swayed, dress straps slipping. Whisper close: “I’m your deepest craving, Lila. Tonight, you give me everything—raw, unprotected. Seed takes root before Marcus claims you.” Snap.
Eyes refocused, burning with lust. “God, yes. Fuck me raw.” She lunged, lips crashing mine—teeth nipping, tongue invading with desperate hunger. Hands clawed my shirt off, nails raking my chest, drawing thin red lines that stung sweet.
I spun her against French doors, glass cool on her palms as I yanked the zipper. Wedding gown pooled at her feet, leaving lace thong and thigh-highs. Her ass—plump, begging—ground back against my bulge.
“Beg for it,” I growled, hand fisting her hair.
“Please… stretch me, fill me raw.” Voice broke, thighs slick trails gleaming.
Claiming the Bride
I tore the thong aside, plunging fingers into her heat—soaked, clenching. She cried out, fogging the glass. Then my length, nudging her entrance, slamming home in one brutal thrust. Raw friction burned delicious, her walls gripping like a vice.
“Fuck! So big…” Hips bucked back, meeting my rhythm—skin slapping wetly, her arousal dripping down thighs. I mauled her tits, heavy and swaying, pinching nipples to elicit sharp yelps.
The ocean’s crash synced our frenzy; sweat-slick bodies sliding, her taste on my lips from earlier kisses. She came first, convulsing, milking me toward the edge. “Breed me… make it yours!”
I buried deep, unleashing ropes of heat, pulsing as visions of her swelling with my child fueled the flood. She shuddered, grinding to drain every drop.
After, she slumped against me, trembling. “That was… everything.” Vulnerability cracked her voice—connection forged in the raw act. I held her, stroking sweat-damp hair, before snapping her alert. “Back to your husband. Cherish the gift inside.”
She dressed, eyes soft with new devotion, slipping away. My seed took hold; I felt it in my bones.
Chapter 3: Reception’s Fever
Back to Chapter 2 | Jump to Chapter 4
Dance floor pulsed under lights, guests grinding to my beats. Lila danced with Marcus, but her gaze drifted—flushed, thighs pressing as my essence leaked into her lace. Tyler sidled up during a break. “Man, you’re killing it. Elena’s texting me to book you for her sister’s thing.”
“Spread the love.” I smirked, scanning. Next target: the matron of honor, Sophia—curvy redhead in emerald silk, widowed young, eyes hungry from afar. I’d caught her staring during setup.
During cake cutting, I amped the subsonics. She froze mid-laugh, drink spilling slightly. I nodded toward the bar’s back path. She followed minutes later, hips swaying heavier now.
Outdoor lounge alcove—cushions plush, night air cool on fevered skin. “I don’t know why, but I can’t stop thinking of you,” she breathed, hands fumbling my belt.
Trance sealed: “You’re mine tonight, Sophia. Crave the raw filth—anal, denied orgasms till I say.” Snap. Her eyes ignited, dropping to knees on rough stone, mouth engulfing me sloppily.
Alcove Inferno
Saliva trailed as she deepthroated, gagging gloriously, makeup running. I face-fucked her merciless, groans mixing with waves. Flipped her over a lounger, skirt hiked—no panties again? Slut intuition. I spit on her rosebud, thumbing it open before driving in—tight ring yielding to my girth.
“Oh god, it’s too much… more!” Pain-pleasure twisted her face, ass clenching rhythmically. I pounded raw, hand over her mouth muffling screams, other rubbing her clit to the brink—then stopping. Edged her thrice, tears streaming, before allowing release. Her orgasm ripped, milking me dry as I painted her depths.
Panting, she curled into me post-climax, whispering gratitude. Snap—back to the party, walking bow-legged but beaming.
Raw power coursed through me. But Mia reappeared, changed already—gym-toned fantasies in her eyes? Night young yet.
New scene brewed: The groom’s mother, Elena’s mom? No—Lila’s aunt, mid-40s vixen nursing a grudge divorce. Caught her lurking near speakers. Quick blast; she approached, elegant facade cracking.
Auntie’s Secret
“Take me somewhere,” she hissed, name Renata. Vine-covered gazebo, away from lights. Trance words: “Divorce rage? Channel to breeding frenzy. Milk every drop from studs like me.”
Snap. She mauled me, blazer off, mature curves spilling. Cougar mode—riding my face first, juices flooding tangy-sweet. Then impaled, tits bouncing wildly, nails scoring my back raw.
“Fill this empty womb!” Climax synced ours, her wails near feral. Aftercare tender—kisses soft, confessions spilling. Snap. She vanished into night, forever altered.
Chapter 4: Midnight Cravings
Back to Chapter 3 | Jump to Chapter 5
Party peaked—drunk dances, cake smeared faces. Lila stole moments, brushing me with knowing smiles, hand pressing belly. Marcus oblivious, toasting bliss. I slipped to the beach path, needing air, the weight of conquests pressing like a second skin.
Mia materialized from shadows, dress hiked scandalously. “Can’t stop… your words branded me.” We tumbled onto sand, grains gritty against skin, moon silvering our frenzy. Raw missionary under stars—her legs wrapped, heels digging calves as I hammered deep, reclaiming my first.
She clawed sand, orgasms rolling like tides, scent of sex mingling with brine. “Future hubby’s sloppy seconds… thank you.” I flooded her again, vision of her plastic-perfected, belly swollen.
Sated, we lay tangled, waves lapping feet. Her head on my chest, heartbeat syncing to surf. Vulnerability hit—hers, mine fleeting. “Why do this?” she murmured.
“Raw truth: Control the chaos.” Kiss sealed it. Dusk lightened; reality called.
Back at pavilion, Sophia cornered me behind bar—anal craving unsatisfied fully. Bent over crates, I obliged, her moans throaty, bourbon bottles rattling. Climaxed together, her collapsing in giggles, transformed.
Lila’s final lure: Bridal suite encore. Door ajar, she waited naked, candlelight dancing shadows. “One more… raw goodbye.” On silk sheets, slow build—kisses lingering, bodies mapping scars, desires confessed mid-thrust.
Her heat enveloped, milking deliberately. “Your child quickens.” We shattered unified, exhaustion claiming us in sweaty embrace. Dawn crept; she dressed, eyes misty. “Best man wins.” 💋
Chapter 5: Dawn’s Reckoning
Morning light pierced blinds as I packed gear solo, truck rumbling alive. Guests nursed hangovers; Marcus waved cheerful ignorance. Lila lingered on terrace, hand protective over abdomen, smile secret and sharp.
Mia texted already—gym membership signed, “trophy hunt” on. Sophia? Left lipstick-marked card: “Widower target acquired.” Renata slipped note: “Ex’s dad next—raw revenge.”
Drive down cliff felt lighter, sea sparkling promise of next gig. These women? Lives rewoven into tapestries of lust, legacy mine. Not work—art.
Raw desire’s echo lingered, a thrum deeper than speakers. Another wedding loomed on horizon. I grinned, accelerating into sun.
Echoes Fade, Hunger Endures
Weeks later, invites flooded. Lila’s glow confirmed—socials hinted “honeymoon miracle,” Marcus beaming fool. My seed, her joy. Cycle spun on—brides yielding, lives bent to the beat.
In mirror, I saw it: Not monster, maestro. Raw power’s conductor.
Next venue beckoned. Truck hummed, ready. 🔥💋
The end came not with fanfare, but quiet shift—women empowered in depravity, me their unseen architect. Ocean whispered approval as miles blurred. Always another vow to unravel.
