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UNHOLY TRINITY
The sexton showed Reggie and me where the room was, turned on the lights, pointed out the bathroom, and left us alone.
First thing Reggie did was hang up the garment bags.
Second thing he did was lock the door.
Third thing was to crush my body against his in a long, tight hug.
His mouth went for mine, but I had to turn my head.
"Sorry, pal. Can't have my lips looking all puffy."
He snorted,
"Then you better get `em wrapped around my dick, fucker! How long we got, anyway?"
I did the math in my head.
"Ten, fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty if we dress quickly."
"Shit! Skip the mouth music and let me at that pussy."
I yanked off my polo shirt and dropped trou, spreading my legs and bracing myself against the arm of the loveseat.
It was practically the only furniture in the little room. You'd think a place as chichi as Holy Trinity Episcopal Church would be set up better, but maybe poky little rooms were one of their `venerable old traditions'.
All the same to me . . . the place was big enough to get the job done. And speaking of `big enough to get the job done' . . . I was looking forward to having Reggie up my tailpipe again. He'd come into town last night, but I couldn't get away to welcome him properly.
It'd been months. I'd seen him only three times in the two years since I resigned my commission, and he still had four weeks (and counting!) before he said sayonara to the Corps. After all those years together, first in Korea and then Okinawa, getting it almost every night, to go this long without . . . well, I wanted him bad!
If you've never done it with a negro, let me tell you . . . it's not just hype. Reggie's cock is fucking huge, and he knows exactly what to do with it. He's built like a brick shithouse and handsome as fuck, and the way his lips feel on my asshole . . . the only thing better is the way they feel on my mouth. It was killing me not to be necking with him this very moment . . . swapping spit, his tongue down my throat, grinding against his muscular body . . .
Fuck it. At least I was about to get his cock in my cunt.
He started with some tongue action . . . slurping at my hole, jabbing with his tongue, digging in deep. He got me so worked up I was begging for him to plug me, give it to me hard and deep.
Well . . . careful what you ask for!
He had some hand lotion, and the rimjob had loosened me up, but it'd still been a couple weeks since I took any cock. He wasn't in the mood to go slow, and let me tell you, it hurt like a motherfucker when he shoved that thing in. But I took it like a Marine, and after a minute it was feeling fucking great.
His cock is so big I have to make myself relax, force myself to open up deep inside . . . and even then, that last couple inches always hurts like hell.
The pain . . . right at the edge of what I can take . . . that's my favorite part.
Reggie grabbed the sides of my head, fingers digging into my temples, thumbs pressing on the back of my neck. My body instinctively tried to get away from him, but those big hands held me in place as he fucked me deep. His monster cock wrecked my cunt, left it gaping, twitching . . . left me gasping for breath.
I got in the groove eventually. My body stopped fighting it, and I just stood there, bent over, taking whatever shit Reggie dished out. He started pushing even harder, plowing me like a fucking stallion, fucking me so deep and hard I damn near passed out. When he finally blew his load, it shot so deep inside me I should have tasted it in my mouth.
He stood there panting, dripping sweat, eleven inches of cock still buried in my guts.
I checked my wristwatch. We'd been at it 25 minutes! Shit!!
I took a quick sponge bath and then started on the morning suit. Reggie helped me figure out the funky stuff, like cufflinks and the vest. Neither of us knew what the fuck to do with the ascot, so I just tied it like a normal necktie. Reggie scrambled into his dress blues in no time, and somehow or other we were ready right on schedule.
Once I was all dolled up, Reggie checked me out like I was on inspection.
Finally, he nodded.
"Looking fine!"
Then he smirked.
"Remember . . . don't fart."
"Fuck you, asshole!"
I gave him a quick kiss on the lips and unlocked the door.
There was a murmur in the congregation as I took my place at the front of the church.
The murmur turned into a buzz when Reggie took his place beside me, looking damn fine in his dress blues. I bet those Connecticut bluebloods weren't expecting a negro as best man!
I looked out at a sea of flowered bonnets and pillbox hats. I'd lay odds no one here voted for her husband, but they sure as hell liked Jackie's style.
Reggie leaned forward and whispered in my ear,
"How long till our next camping trip?"
I whispered back,
"I'm aiming for three weeks after the honeymoon. Don't want Bitsy feeling neglected and crying to daddy."
There was a stir at the back of the church. The organist wrapped up her noodling, paused, and launched into "Here Comes the Bride" like she was storming the beach at Inchon.
And there was Bitsy, bearing down on me right on cue, a porcelain angel from the top of an extra-ritzy Christmas tree. She was holding tight to the arm of my boss, who looked like a toad in a tailcoat.
I straightened my spine and squared my shoulders and put a smile on my face. As long as I had Reggie behind me . . . figuratively and occasionally literally . . . I knew I could pull this off.