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I fuck my friend’s wife on their wedding day because she promised me that before she gets married to my friend she will give me the best sex and I will fuck her hard that she will be coming to fuck me even after their wedding. She made that promise six months before the engagement became official. We were alone in her apartment after a night of drinks with the group. My friend her future husband had already gone home. She looked at me across the couch, eyes dark, and said it without blinking: “Before I marry him, I’m going to give you the best fuck of your life. You’re going to ruin me. Fuck me so hard I’ll still be thinking about your cock when I’m walking down the aisle. And after the wedding… I’ll still come to you. Whenever you want. I won’t be able to stop.” I didn’t believe her at first. People say shit when they’re horny and half-drunk. But she meant every word. The wedding day arrived under a perfect blue sky. White chairs, flowers everywhere, string quartet, the whole expensive production. I stood beside my best friend as his best man and watched her walk toward him in that long white dress. She looked pure. Radiant. Untouchable. The second our eyes met over his shoulder, I saw the truth in hers. She hadn’t forgotten. The ceremony ended. Rings were exchanged. Guests cheered. Champagne started flowing. The reception hall filled with music and laughter. My friend was pulled away by relatives for photos. I waited. She found me first. A soft hand on my arm in a quiet corridor. “Bridal suite. Ten minutes. Door will be unlocked.” Then she was gone, smiling for the cameras again. I gave it twelve minutes. The suite was on the second floor, away from the noise. Thick carpet. Soft lighting. Her dress was already half-unzipped down the back when I stepped inside and locked the door. She turned. The bodice sagged, revealing the edge of a white lace bra and the top of her breasts. No veil now. Hair still perfect. Makeup flawless. She looked like a bride who was about to be destroyed. “You came,” she said. “You promised.” She walked to me, reached down, and gripped my cock through my suit pants. Hard already. “I told you I’d give you the best sex of my life. I told you you’d fuck me so hard I’d keep coming back after the rings were on. Prove it.” I didn’t waste time with soft words. I spun her around, shoved her against the full-length mirror, and yanked the heavy skirt up in both fists. No panties. She had planned this carefully. Her bare ass was smooth, warm, already glistening between her thighs. I pushed two fingers into her without warning and she moaned loud enough that anyone in the hallway might have heard. “Fuck,” she breathed, forehead against the glass. “I’ve been wet since the vows.” I freed my cock, thick and leaking, and lined up. One hard thrust buried me to the hilt. She cried out sharp, broken, perfect and her hands slapped against the mirror for balance. I fucked her like I’d been holding it in for years. Deep, punishing strokes that made the mirror shake and the dress rustle. Her wedding gown bunched around her waist, the fabric whispering with every slam of my hips. I grabbed a fistful of her carefully styled hair and pulled her head back so she had to watch herself take it. “Look at yourself,” I growled against her ear. “Still in the white dress. Still wearing his ring. And you’re getting fucked like a whore by his best man.”