Her hair had been trimmed and pulled back to expose her dainty ears. A single gold chain adorned her neck, and the low cut neckline of her dress showe... a hint of cleavage. The dress was red and black, buttoned down the front, and flared at the waist. She looked stunning and I didn't hesitate to tell her.As expected, Mrs. Coughlin reminded us to be home at a decent hour.When we were in the car, I asked, "What does decent mean?" To me, it sounded better than midnight, but recalling how she was. I could feel my heart- rate pumping faster. One of the goons had finished with a deal. The car started moving, a few seconds later it disappeared down the street. The thug began to walk back to his comrade. I revealed myself from behind the recycle bins. Crossing the road, I walked towards the house. The goon guarding the front door saw me. He nodded to his friend who had his back to me.“Behind you Charlie,” the thug said, standing by the door.Charlie turned and smiled. He thought it was. My answer shocked him and me for that matter. "How about on my wedding day?" His answer was in the form of several large spurts of cum pumping deep in my pussy. In the heat of sex we had realised our ultimate naughty fantasy. The next few weeks was like a blur. The preparation for the wedding was fairly smooth and stress free. I became wet every time I thought about this plan. I had worked out how we could pull this off but still thought it would remain a fantasy as a million things could have. She again was trying to move faster. I held her tight again and did not let her move. She understood that I wanted it slowly. She moved slowly. The depth of the penetration was increase with every stroke.In few more strokes she had an orgasm. She shivered for few minutes. Held me tight by pressing her breasts into me and closing her eyes and breathing heavily. While she was recovering, I was twitching my penis, which was still inside her pussy all wet and sloppy. I was not in a hurry to release.