Bride's forbidden orgy of cocks and cunts

The bass throbbed through the floorboards, a primal pulse that echoed in my chest. A semi-circle of screaming, laughing women—my best friends, my future sisters-in-law, even my soon-to-be mother-in-law, Carol—were all staring at the door as it swung open.

And then he was there.

Jax. The advertised “stripper extraordinaire.” He wasn’t dressed as a fireman or a cop. He was just… him. Tight black jeans clung to his powerful thighs and the unmistakable, thick bulge straining against the denim. A leather vest was open over a torso sculpted from pure temptation, muscles rippling under smooth skin glistening with a sheen of sweat. His eyes, dark and smoldering, scanned the room before landing directly on me.

“Well, hello, bride-to-be,” his voice was a low purr that cut through the music, meant only for me.

He moved with a predatory grace, his hips swiveling to the rhythm as he stalked toward my chair. The women around me went feral, their cheers deafening. He dropped to his knees, his face inches from mine. I could smell his cologne, something dark and spicy.

“Everyone says you’re off the menu,” he murmured, his breath hot against my ear. “But the way you’re looking at me says there’s still a tasting available.”

His hands, calloused and strong, slid up my thighs, pushing my short skirt up. I was breathing in ragged gasps. He leaned in, nuzzling the sensitive skin of my neck, and then his mouth was on mine. It wasn’t a kiss; it was a claim. Hot, demanding, his tongue plundering my mouth as his fingers found the damp center of my panties, rubbing slow, torturous circles over the thin fabric. I moaned into his mouth, my hips bucking against his hand.

Then, he was gone. He broke the kiss with a wicked grin and turned his attention to Sarah, my maid of honor. He pushed her back onto the couch, his body grinding against hers. Then he moved to Chloe, burying his face between her tits, making her scream. He was a blur of motion, giving each of us a taste, a preview, his hands and mouth everywhere, leaving a trail of panting, desperate women in his wake.

It was Chloe who broke first. “Suck me off,” she gasped, her fingers tangled in his hair. “Right fucking now. I want that famous mouth on my cunt.”

Jax just grinned wider. “Who’s next? Don’t be shy, ladies.”

A chorus of demands erupted. “Me!” “My turn!” “Suck my pussy, you god!”

He laughed, a rich, dark sound, and complied. He started with Chloe, pulling her to the edge of the couch, yanking her panties aside and burying his face between her legs. The sound of his hungry mouth working on her, her sharp cries of pleasure, filled the room. He was a man possessed, moving from one woman to the next, his tongue lavishing attention on each dripping cunt, making each of us come undone with a skilled, relentless pressure.

The door crashed open.

“POLICE! PARTY’S OVER!”

Three men in crisp, authoritative police uniforms stood there, their faces stern. A cold wave of panic washed over me. Shit. We’re done for.

But Jax just looked up from between Sarah’s thighs, his chin glistening. He didn’t look surprised. He looked… amused.

The lead “officer,” a rugged blond with a jawline that could cut glass, scanned the scene of debauchery. His stern expression melted into a slow, filthy smile. “Well, well. What do we have here? A code 69 in progress.”

In one fluid motion, he ripped open his uniform shirt, buttons pinging off the walls. The other two followed suit, shedding their costumes to reveal bodies just as ripped and ready as Jax’s. They weren’t cops. They were more strippers. The room exploded in a fresh wave of euphoric screams.

What happened next was a beautiful, carnal chaos.

The blond cop—I heard Jax call him “Riggs”—grabbed Carol, the groom’s mother. She squealed, not in protest, but in pure, unadulterated delight as he backed her against a wall, his mouth crashing down on hers while his hands squeezed her ample ass.

“Don’t you dare treat me like a senior citizen,” she moaned, fumbling with his belt.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, ma’am,” he grunted, freeing a thick, veiny cock. “I like my women… experienced.”

I was pulled off my chair from behind. Jax’s hands were on me again, spinning me around to face him. “Now, where were we, bridezilla?” He crushed his mouth to mine, the taste of my friends still on his lips. His fingers hooked into the waistband of my panties and tore them off. I was naked from the waist down, exposed and throbbing.

I saw Sarah on her knees, taking two cocks at once, her head bobbing between the two new guys while her hands stroked them in rhythm. Chloe was bent over the arm of the sofa, one of the faux-cops pounding into her from behind, his hands gripping her hips, the loud, wet smacks of flesh on flesh punctuating her cries.

Jax turned me around, bending me over the same chair I’d been sitting on minutes before. I felt the broad, slick head of his cock press against my entrance. Oh god. He wasn’t asking. He was taking.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he growled in my ear. “One last wild fuck before you get locked down?”

I could only nod, desperate for it. With one powerful, brutal thrust, he was inside me, stretching me, filling me completely. I screamed, my nails digging into the upholstery. He set a punishing pace, each drive hitting a spot deep inside that made me see stars. I reached a hand back, clutching his muscular thigh, feeling it flex with every powerful pump.

To my left, Carol was on her back on the floor, her legs hooked over Riggs’s shoulders as he drove into her, her head thrashing from side to side. “Yes! Right there! Fuck me like you mean it!” she screamed, a woman half her age.

The air was thick with the sounds of sex: grunts, moans, slapping skin, and the obscene, wet sounds of cunts and mouths being used. The smell of sweat and sex was overwhelming. I came hard around Jax’s cock, my body convulsing, but he didn’t stop. He just gripped my hips tighter, his rhythm becoming even more feral.

“Think you can take me somewhere else, princess?” Jax rasped, his voice thick with lust. His thumb, slick with my own wetness, found my asshole, circling the tight rim. I gasped, the sensation shocking and intensely erotic.

The world narrowed to the feel of Jax’s cock buried deep inside me, the rough fabric of the chair against my cheek, and the slick, insistent pressure of his thumb circling my asshole. The decadent symphony of the orgy swelled around us—slapping flesh, guttural groans, and the wet, hungry sounds of mouths on skin. I was lost in it, my body his to command.

Then, the universe shattered.

The door didn’t just open. It exploded inwards with a deafening CRACK of splintering wood.

“THIS IS THE POLICE! EVERYONE ON THE GROUND! NOW!”

This voice wasn’t playful. It wasn’t a seductive growl like Riggs’s had been. It was hard, sharp, and crackled with official authority. Cold, blinding light from a high-powered flashlight swept the room, freezing us all in a grotesque tableau of debauchery.

The frantic rhythm of sex stuttered to a horrified halt. Jax went rigid inside me, his grip on my hip tightening to a vice. Oh god. Oh fuck. These are real.

I craned my neck, my heart a frantic bird slamming against my ribs. Three uniformed figures stood in the ruined doorway, their faces hidden in shadow behind the blinding light. Their postures were all rigid, professional threat. These were no performers.

A collective, terrified gasp sucked the air from the room. Sarah scrambled off the two cocks she’d been servicing, a string of saliva and pre-cum still connecting her lips to one of them. Chloe tried to stand, but the man behind her held her fast, his own panic making him clutch her as a shield.

“I said, ON THE GROUND!” the lead officer roared, his hand resting on the butt of his service weapon.

Chaos erupted. It wasn’t the fun, sexual chaos of minutes before. This was pure, unadulterated panic. Women screamed, scrambling for cover, for clothes, for anything to hide their nakedness. The strippers, for all their bravado, looked like startled deer, their cocks wilting in an instant.

Jax was the first to move. With a fluid, shocking speed, he pulled out of me, the sudden emptiness making me gasp. He shoved me down behind the relative safety of the large armchair. “Stay down,” he hissed, his smoldering eyes wide with a new, urgent fire.

The lead cop’s light landed on Riggs and Carol, still locked together on the floor. “You two! Separate! Now!”

Riggs, ever the arrogant performer, recovered a sliver of his composure. He moved off Carol slowly, his hands held up in a placating gesture. “Officers, this is just a little misunderstanding–”

“The only thing I misunderstand is why your dick is still out,” the cop snapped, his voice dripping with contempt. “Down. All of you.”

But Jax wasn’t listening. His eyes met mine for a split second, a silent, desperate message flashing in them: run. In one motion, he grabbed a heavy glass vase from a side table and hurled it at the large window overlooking the backyard. The sound was apocalyptic—a crashing, shattering explosion of glass.

“GO!” Jax bellowed to the room.

The real cops shouted, rushing forward, but the chaos was our new advantage. It was every woman for herself. I stumbled to my feet, my legs shaky, my bare feet crunching on broken glass. I didn’t think. I just ran toward the gaping, jagged hole in the wall.

I felt a strong hand grab my arm. Chloe. Her voluptuous body was sheened with sweat, her eyes wild with fear and a strange, thrilling adrenaline. “This way!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the din. She didn’t just want to escape; she needed to conquer this, to turn this terror into another bold, empowering experience.

We scrambled through the broken window, the cold night air a shock on our naked skin. Behind us, I could hear the grunts of a struggle—likely Jax or one of the others holding the cops back. Sarah was right behind us, her fit body moving with agile grace.

“The fence! Go to the back fence!” Sarah shouted, her playful energy now channeled into sheer survival.

We sprinted across the dewy grass, our bare feet slipping, our breasts bouncing wildly. I dared a glance back. The faux cops—the other strippers—were pouring out the window after us, their ripped bodies gleaming under the moonlight. They may have been performers, but their flight was real, a primal rush to avoid capture.

I reached the tall wooden fence and fumbled for the latch on the gate, my hands trembling. It was locked. Shit.

“Up and over!” a gruff voice commanded. It was Riggs. He placed his hands on my bare ass, boosting me up without a hint of his previous seduction. This was pure utility. I scrambled over the top, splinters digging into my palms and inner thighs, and dropped roughly onto the other side into a dark, unfamiliar alley.

Chloe came over next, then Sarah. The strippers followed, landing with heavy thuds on the pavement. Jax was the last. He vaulted the fence with an athletic ease that was breathtaking even now, landing in a crouch beside me.

For a moment, we all just stood there in the dim alley, panting, our breath misting in the cold air. We were a pack of naked, terrified, exhilarated animals. The sounds of shouting and commotion were muffled by the fence, but they were still coming.

Jax’s dark eyes scanned our group, then locked onto a heavy industrial dumpster pushed against the alley wall. Without a word, he grabbed my hand and Chloe’s, pulling us toward it. “Behind here. Now. Everyone.”

We crammed into the narrow, dark space between the cold, rusted metal of the dumpster and the rough brick of the building. The six of us—Jax, Riggs, the two other strippers, Chloe, Sarah, and I—were pressed together, skin to skin, our hearts hammering in a frantic, collective rhythm. The smell of garbage and sex was a bizarre, heady mix.

We held our breath, listening. Police radios crackled on the other side of the fence. Footsteps. Muffled voices. “Spread out! Check the alley!”

The fear was electric, a cold dread. But pressed this tightly together, another heat began to bloom. The adrenaline was morphing, twisting back into raw, primal lust. Jax was pressed against my front, his back to the dumpster. I could feel his cock, already hardening again against my thigh. Behind me, Chloe’s soft, voluptuous body was molded against my back, her hard nipples digging into my shoulder blades. Her hand slid around my waist, her fingers trailing through my wetness from behind.

“Fuck, you’re still so dripping wet,” she breathed into my ear, her voice a husky whisper. Her finger slid lower, circling my clit, making me jerk against Jax.

He looked down at me, his smoldering eyes glinting in the dark. The fear was gone from his face, replaced by that familiar, predatory hunger. The thrill of the escape, the danger, it was the ultimate adventure for him. His hand came up, tangling in my hair, pulling my head back.

Outside, a flashlight beam swept the mouth of the alley. We froze.

The light passed.

Jax didn’t wait. His mouth crushed down on mine in a desperate, claiming kiss. It tasted of danger and stolen freedom. His other hand found Chloe’s on my clit, pressing our hands together, guiding our fingers against my sensitive nub.

I moaned into his mouth, the sound swallowed by the night. His cock was fully hard now, a thick, demanding pressure against me. He broke the kiss, his lips at my ear.

“They’re still out there,” he rasped, his voice barely audible. “But I don’t think I can wait. Do you want me to fuck you right here, right now, while they hunt for us?”

His breath is a hot, ragged thing against my ear, his question hanging in the air like a challenge. Do you want me to fuck you right here, right now, while they hunt for us? My answer is a frantic, desperate nod, my body already arching toward him, begging for it.

But before Jax can act, a sharp, guttural groan echoes from the other end of our cramped hiding spot. My head whips around, my cheek scraping against the rough brick wall.

In the sliver of moonlight, I see them.

Riggs has Sarah pinned against the cold alley wall, his big, rugged body enveloping hers. One of his hands is tangled in her hair, yanking her head back. The other is clamped over her mouth, muffling the sounds she’s making. But it’s not sounds of protest. They’re deep, resonant, pleasure-soaked moans that vibrate against his palm.

His mouth is latched onto one of her tits, sucking hard on the nipple, his tongue circling the stiff peak. Sarah’s eyes are squeezed shut, her face a mask of exquisite torture, her body writhing against his not to get away, but to get more.

“That’s it, you filthy little runner,” Riggs growls, his voice a low rumble that’s meant only for her. He releases her breast with a wet pop, his mouth moving to her ear. “All that adrenaline… all that fear… needs to go somewhere. I’m gonna help you let it all out.”

His hand moves from her mouth, sliding down her sweat-slicked body. Sarah gasps for air, her head lolling forward. “Please…” she whimpers, the word barely audible. “Please, Riggs…”

“Please what?” he demands, his fingers dipping between her legs, searching. “You gotta use your words, sweetheart. I’m not a mind reader.”

“Fuck me,” she breathes out, her voice trembling with need. “God, just fuck me.”

A dark, possessive smile plays on his lips. “Since you asked so nicely.”

He spins her around with a brutal efficiency that makes me gasp. He bends her forward, pressing her face and torso against the rough brick. Her hands fly up, bracing herself. Her ass is up in the air, a perfect, round offering presented to him in the shadows.

Riggs spits into his palm once, twice, the sound crude and animalistic. He slicks his thick, veiny cock with the saliva, then guides the broad, flushed head to her entrance. But he doesn’t push into her wet, waiting cunt. He nudges it lower, pressing insistently against her other, tighter hole.

Sarah’s eyes fly open wide. A sharp, startled “Oh!” escapes her lips.

“Shhh,” Riggs soothes, but it’s a command, not comfort. He leans over her, his chest pressing against her back, his mouth next to her ear. “You can take it. You want this. I can feel how bad you want it. Your whole body is shaking for my cock.”

He pushes. Just the tip. Sarah cries out, a strangled sound of shock and overwhelming sensation. Her knuckles are white where she grips the wall.

“Relax,” he commands, his voice dropping to a gruff whisper. He wraps one powerful arm around her waist, holding her still, while his other hand reaches around to her front. His fingers find her clit, rubbing rough, immediate circles over the hyper-sensitive nub.

Sarah’s cry morphs into a long, low groan of surrender. Her body goes pliant against his, the tension melting away under his skilled touch. She’s done this before, I realize. She loves this.

Emboldened by her submission, Riggs pushes forward again. This time, his cock sinks into her ass, an inch, then two, stretching her impossibly, filling her with a burning, exquisite pressure that makes her see stars. Her mouth opens in a silent scream.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he grunts, his own composure breaking for a second. He holds himself there, letting her adjust to the overwhelming intrusion, his fingers never stopping their frantic work on her clit.

Then, he begins to move. A slow, deliberate withdrawal, then a harder, deeper thrust. The rhythm is punishing, each drive sending a jolt through her entire frame. The sound is lewd, a wet, slapping noise as his hips meet her ass, punctuated by his ragged grunts and her choked, pleasured sobs.

Jax watches for a moment, a dark fascination on his face, before turning his hunger back to me. Chloe’s fingers are still working my clit, her touch growing more insistent, mirroring the frantic energy pouring off Riggs and Sarah.

“You see that?” Jax murmurs, his own cock now a rigid, throbbing brand against my stomach. “He’s fucking her ass raw in a dirty alley while cops search for them. That’s what a real thrill feels like.”

He doesn’t wait for a response. He spins me around, mimicking Riggs’s pose, bending me over the cold metal of the dumpster. The shock of the cold on my heated skin makes me yelp. Chloe moves with us, pressed against my back, her hands now roaming my body, cupping my breasts, pinching my nipples, keeping me trapped in a sandwich of desperate heat.

I hear the sound of Riggs’s thrusts becoming frenzied, erratic. “You gonna come all over my cock, you dirty girl?” he snarls at Sarah. “You gonna cream that tight little ass for me?”

Sarah’s answer is a broken, sobbing moan of pure ecstasy. Her body convulses, her legs trembling violently as her orgasm rips through her, triggered by his words and the relentless stimulation of her clit. Riggs groans, a deep, guttural sound of triumph, and slams into her one last time, his own release crashing over him. He pulses inside her, his body shuddering as he empties himself into her depths.

The moment he stills, Jax moves. He’s been waiting, poised like a predator. He spits into his hand, coating his length, and without any further preamble, he drives his cock into my waiting, dripping cunt from behind.

The penetration is brutal and perfect, a claiming that steals my breath. I cry out, the sound swallowed by the alley. He sets a furious pace immediately, fucking me with a raw, primal urgency that the interrupted party and the frantic escape had only built up. Each thrust is a punishment and a reward, hitting that deep, sweet spot that makes my toes curl against the cold pavement.

Chloe’s hands are everywhere, her mouth on my neck, her fingers finding my clit again, circling in time with Jax’s thrusts. “You like watching, don’t you?” she whispers to me, her voice thick with her own arousal. “You like seeing her take it like that. It makes your pussy so much wetter for his cock.”

She’s right. The voyeuristic thrill, the sheer taboo of it all, is pushing me higher and higher. The risk, the adrenaline, the raw, unfiltered sex—it’s a drug.

Jax’s fingers dig into the flesh of my hips, holding me in place as he pistons into me. “This cunt was made for this,” he grunts, his voice strained with the effort of his thrusts. “Made to get fucked stupid while the world falls apart.”

I’m close. So close. The coil in my belly is wound impossibly tight, ready to snap. Behind us, Riggs is pulling out of Sarah with a wet, slick sound. She slumps against the wall, spent. But his eyes are already scanning the alley, looking for his next conquest.

His gaze lands on us, on me taking Jax’s cock, on Chloe writhing against my back. A fresh, predatory gleam lights up his blue eyes.

He takes a step toward us, his semi-hard cock already beginning to stiffen again.