Bride's Nuru Surprise

Bonnie keeps her wedding dress on when she guides George into the bedroom. He stops cold. An air mattress is already stretched across the floor, a bowl of clear gel waiting beside it. She smiles, fingers still laced with his. "I wanted tonight to feel different," she tells him. "Learned something called Nuru. Thought you might like it." He swallows. She reaches for his tie. He finds the buttons of her dress. They peel each other slow, lace and cotton falling, skin meeting air. When they’re bare, Bonnie pours the gel across her small breasts, spreads it over her flat stomach. She climbs over him, chest first, letting the slippery warmth drag from his collarbone to his hips. Each pass is unhurried, her nipples brushing, her breath warm on his neck. George’s cock thickens between them. Bonnie shifts, knees parting. Two fingers slide between her own folds, spreading the same gel, then lower to circle the head of him. He groans. She keeps stroking, gel-slick and steady, until her own breath catches and her thighs tremble. A sudden rush of wetness spills over his stomach; she bites her lip, keeps going. When she finally sinks onto him, the slide is easy, deep, and they move together like the room has all the time in the world.