My Wedding night by Mystic47
My wedding night, his birthday, would be one we would never forget. , It was my wedding day. I had planned this day for months. I couldn’t keep my heart from racing from the moment I got out of bed to the moment my cousin walked me down the aisle. Our father was gone so I asked my cousin Zachary to give me away to Greg, my finance’, my love, my life.
Zachary is seven years older than me and ever since my father died he has been cousin big brother, and father to me. I love my cousin dearly, more than anyone else in the world, except Greg. I chose July 16th for my wedding because it was Zach’s 30th birthday.
Zachary didn’t like Greg much, he told me more than once that Greg was a womanizing asshole and he was only using me. I didn’t want to hear that, I loved Greg deeply and I knew without a doubt he loved me as much. I fought often with my cousin about Greg but in the end I won out. Zachary agreed to walk me down the aisle, not for Greg, but for me.
The day dawned with a bright sunlit sky; the world was smiling for my wedding. My Maid of Honor and best friend Carolyn was up with me, coaching me, helping me get my hair and makeup done. My mother helped me get dressed while Carolyn went to get ready with the rest of my bridesmaids. The wedding and reception were going to be grand but I was looking forward to the first night as Mrs. Greg Butler. He and I hadn’t had sex in five weeks. We agreed to abstain for a month before this night so that we would be even hotter and more ready for our wedding night. My clit was on full alert, ready for close, intimate stimulation and marital satisfaction. I could hardly wait to get laid on my special day.
He was tall, broodingly handsome; his eyes sparkled with delight as he watched me come to him on the arm of my cousin. He looked into my eyes and said “I do.” My world was perfect. It was during the reception that trouble thundered over the horizon and drastically changed the rest of my life.
I couldn’t find my Maid of Honor. Carolyn was gone; no one I asked knew where she was. At first I wasn’t troubled but as the minutes stretched I grew concerned. I looked for the eligible men in the room and they were all there. She wasn’t in a corner somewhere getting a quickie. I asked my brand new husband if he knew where she was but he claimed to not know. My cousin hadn’t a clue, our friends didn’t know. Greg volunteered to look for her; I was relieved that he would. My husband took the Best Man, his lifelong friend and went into the depths of the building to look for Carolyn.
They were gone too long. It had been 15 minutes and the building wasn’t that big. I grabbed Zachary and begged him to go with me, to find my friend and my brand new husband. We searched the kitchen, the restrooms, outside and the basement. None of the staff or caterers had seen any of the three missing people. There was a second floor to the reception hall; one staff member told me there were four rooms up there, used for storage. My cousin and I climbed the stairs to investigate.
The first two rooms were full of cartons, dusty old cardboard boxes full faded memories, lost dreams. It was when Zach opened the door to the third room that my own dreams shattered.
There was an old twin bed mattress on the floor; Carolyn was sprawled across it with her dress pulled up over her upper body and face. She was naked from the waist down and my new husband, my lifetime partner Greg had his cock buried deep between her legs while the Best Man stood to the side jerking on his erection. Neither of them had their pants on. I screamed! Zach flew across the room and hit Greg on the head with his hard closed fist. Greg yelped and fell to his side on the floor just as Zack kicked the best man in the nuts, folding him over in a heap, groaning and holding his balls. Zach turned back to Greg and kicked him in the back and was ready to stomp his head when I stopped him. I was too stunned to understand what I was looking at but I couldn’t let my cousin kill my husband. Carolyn never moved. Zach bent over her and pulled her dress over her nakedness, uncovering her face, she was breathing but unconscious.
We heard a crowd of footsteps banging up the stairs and in moments the room filled with wedding guests, mostly men, my scream had brought the party to us. Greg sat up; trying to pull his pants up, his friend was still clutching his wounded jewels. One of my uncles is a cop so he took over, first ordering everyone out of the room except me and Zach. Even though it was obvious he asked me “What happened?”
Zach spoke up “They were having sex. At first it looked like she was part of it but look at her, she’s gone. She has no idea what’s going on.” He jerked his thumb toward the two sitting against the wall “Those two were raping her.”
Greg started to protest but my uncle told him to shut up. He recited Miranda to both then advised them they were under arrest. He took his phone out and called for more cops and an ambulance for Carolyn. The stunning shock had passed and I started to cry with shame for my best friend, rage for my new husband, and sorrow for my short lived marriage.
My mother took me out of the room; my uncle took his two prisoners downstairs. Two bridesmaids stayed with Carolyn, waiting for the ambulance. It was only when the EMT’s put her on the gurney that she began to wake up. “What? What’s going on? Maggie?” she called for me “What’s wrong with me, why I can’t move anything?” I went with her to the hospital, still in my wedding dress.
The best man spilled his guts. That night after I went home my uncle told us that Greg and the best man had planned on fucking Carolyn and that Greg had given her a strong roofie during the reception. His friend managed to lure her upstairs where the drug hit her and she passed out. He went back down and that’s when he and Greg went calling on my unconscious Maid of Honor.
My wedding day was the saddest, most tragic day I had ever experienced. I ran to the only person in the world I needed to have near me. I raced to my cousin’s apartment and fell into his arms in anguish for my destroyed life.
He sat on the sofa, I was lying across his lap, I clutched to him like drowning person clutches a life ring. I cried, my endless tears soaked the front of his shirt while he stroked my hair and said nothing. I needed his strength; I tried to pull it from him to make myself stronger, to face the unimaginably horrible reality of my wedding day.
We sat for an hour, he was silent, strong. Gradually I stopped sobbing and he pushed me up, off his chest. “I’m sorry Maggie. No woman should go through what you are right now. How can I help?”
“I need to sleep.”
He didn’t have a guest room so Zach urged me to stand then picked me up and carried me to his bedroom. The symbolism of being carried over the threshold of the room in my wedding dress hammered another spike of sorrow through my heart. He set me on the floor and offered me his bed. “Take your clothes off and get in, I’ll get you some tea.”