RedCherry - Wedding Whim: Jessie and Ben

In the sunlit bedroom, flooded with daytime light, Jessie sat on the edge of the bed in a white wedding dress with a full skirt and a thin veil that had slightly slipped to one side. His green hair was neatly braided into a single plait, white stockings hugged his slender legs, and a familiar dissatisfied expression was fixed on his face. He looked completely feminine — narrow shoulders, soft body lines — and was clearly already regretting agreeing to this stupid idea. Ben, standing opposite him in ordinary home pants, held two simple rings in his hands and smiled wider than usual.

— Well then, my bride, — Ben said, stepping closer. — Ready?

— Ready, ready… just hurry up, — Jessie muttered, looking away.

They put the rings on each other. The metal was cool. Ben leaned in and kissed him — softly, almost solemnly. Jessie responded, but immediately pulled away and snorted.

— It would’ve been better if we just made love the usual way, without all this nonsense with the dress and the rings. I feel like an idiot.

— Quiet, — Ben said gently, running his fingers along his braid. — You agreed to it yourself. And, by the way, you look very cute. Let’s finish the scene.

Jessie rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. He dropped to his knees right on the carpet, gathering up the skirt of the dress, and looked up with the same dissatisfied face. His fingers quickly dealt with Ben’s belt. Jessie leaned forward and took him into his mouth — slowly, as if out of pure politeness. His tongue moved lazily, lips wrapped tightly, but the expression on his face remained sour, as if he were doing a favor.

Ben exhaled quietly and slid a hand into the green hair, without disturbing the braid.

— Just like that… good.

Jessie only hummed in response, continuing. Saliva glistened on the skin, the movements became a little deeper, but he still tried to look bored. After a few minutes Ben gently pulled him away.

— Turn around.

Jessie stood up, turned his back, braced his knees against the edge of the bed and arched slightly, tossing the veil aside. The dress rode up, the white stockings contrasting with his skin. He glanced over his shoulder with the same dissatisfied look.

— Just no extra words.

Ben positioned himself behind, ran his palms over his hips and slowly entered. Jessie exhaled quietly, fingers clutching the sheet. At first he kept his face stone-like — as if he didn’t care. But every thrust blurred that mask. His breathing faltered, his hips pushed back on their own, and very soon a short, traitorous moan escaped his throat.

— You’re still… not in the mood, right? — Ben muttered, speeding up, his voice already a bit rough.

— Not at all… no, — Jessie forced out, though his voice trembled. His cheeks burned, the braid had come loose, the veil had completely slipped. He bit his lip, trying not to give himself away, but his body betrayed him: the muscles tightened around Ben more and more strongly, his thighs trembled.

Ben leaned closer, wrapped an arm around him and moved deeper, faster. The room filled with the sounds of skin and heavy breathing. Jessie could no longer pretend — his head tipped back, a loud moan tore from his throat, fingers crumpled the sheet.

— Ben… damn…

A few more strong thrusts — and Ben came inside, pressing tightly, a low groan escaping his chest. Warmth spread deep. In the same second Jessie came too, arching completely, the dress completely disheveled, the stockings stretched taut. He breathed heavily, forehead pressed into the mattress.

Ben slowly pulled out, ran a palm down his back and leaned to his ear with a sly smile.

— Well then, you didn’t come, huh?

Jessie sharply turned his head, pouted his lips even harder, green eyes flashing with offense. The veil had completely slid onto one shoulder.

— No.

And he turned away, hiding his burning face in the pillow, though the corners of his mouth still traitorously twitched.