Her Best Friend's Dad

She takes my breath away. I don’t think I could imagine a more perfect bride. My body longs for it to be nightfall and the end of our reception, when I can sweep Lia off her feet, out of that gown, and into bed to be worshipped properly.

“Oh, fuck, my hair!” Lia has long since stopped worrying about swearing in front of me, and the further our pregnancy has progressed, the more the irritated words flow into her vocabulary and out of her mouth. Lia runs to the walk-in closet with its full-length mirror and starts fixing imaginary out of place curls. The stylist put enough hair gel in them that I don’t think a bomb could mess up the hair. Half the curls are pulled up with a clip covered in metal flowers she made; the rest bounce on her shoulders.

She doesn’t notice me staring. “You are beyond gorgeous, my love.” I toy with one curl, wrapping it around my finger and tugging before it coils back and swings to a stop on her collarbone. “You are the most beautiful bride I’ve ever seen.”

She starts crying in earnest, and I look around for tissues, only to see her pulling one out of her bodice. “Tasha made sure I’m prepared,” she laughs. “And the design included a secret pocket for tissues between my boobs, because… Pockets.” Lia reaches down her side and shows me a hidden pocket in the side of her skirt.

“Will you be upset if I’m barefoot all night? I can’t get my shoes on. I can’t even see my feet to get them on anyway!” Crying and laughing at the same time, I don’t know what she needs from me. Smoothing my hands up and down her arms, I look at our reflection. Our image belongs in a wedding magazine. Her being pregnant doesn’t detract from the image at all; if anything, it makes her that much more amazing. Lia glows despite the scowl she’s giving our reflections.

“At least Tasha’s dress is flattering. I look like a medieval cow.” Lia adjusts her waistband and the front of her skirt. “When I drew this I didn’t know I was going to swallow a beach ball before our wedding day.”

I kiss her shoulder, move some curls out of my way, and I work my way up to the spot on Lia’s neck that always turns her on. She shudders in my arms, temporarily stopping her self-deprecation. “You are beautiful, Lia. I know being pregnant is not fun, especially at this stage, but see your reflection? You are glowing, even more beautiful than ever. You look every bit a goddess. I can only hope that when we look back on our wedding photos, that you’ll think me even half as handsome as I find you breath-taking.” She smells like my soap as I kiss the spot on her neck again, and I lap at a spot behind her ear where I can feel her pulse.

“Beck, look at me. Just look!”

I meet her eyes through the mirror. “I’m looking. I haven’t stopped looking at you, and I won’t ever.” Starting at her forehead, I fan out my fingers and lightly skim them over her face. “You are always so beautiful, whether it’s when you’re waking up without any make up on or right now.. It’s just you. The beauty you have inside is so radiant that it can’t help but accent your features. Your smile brightens up any room you walk into. And those eyes…” I trail off as I lightly stroke beneath her lower lids. “You can drop me to my knees with just one glance from your sparkling eyes.”

Moving down, I gently cup her breasts, lifting them so that I’m supporting their heaviness and giving her shoulders and chest some relief. Many an evening has been spent these past months with me lightly rubbing her décolletage to release the tension in the muscles there. “And these… Oh how I’d love to pull your tits out of your dress so I can suckle on them. Bury my face between them. Fuck them.” I can feel my cock throbbing inside my pants, and I know I should feel awful about wanting to fuck her like this right before our wedding. I can’t help it though, not with her looking so hot. “Is it bad, Lia, that I’m hard as a rock from thinking about titty fucking you while you’re in your wedding dress?”

Her breath catches, and her lids close partway. “Beck,” she pleads. “Our ceremony starts in less than an hour!” Her chastisement doesn’t matter—not when she needs to know just how beautiful she is.