Best Man Fucks The Groom

The kiss turns into tonguing again as our hug intensifies. His cock, ever hard, starts thrusting inside of me again and I moan at my wrecked hole being rubbed again.
*****
Angel.
That’s the name I give her as he looks back at me in the mirror. Unlike me she has no beard, no body hair at all. My flat brown hair hidden under long locks of white that drape across her shoulders.
Her face looks thinner, helped by the make-up my younger sisters taught me to put on. Foundation, blush, mascara. Now Angel’s lips were a dark purple, like the eyeliner. Her eyelids covered with silver sprinkles.
Her body no longer emphasizing my toned muscles, thanks to a silver sparkling dress that accentuates her big fake breasts in a big white bra. And her hips with the dress resting on her fat ass, with straps down to her silver stockings and golden heels.
I’d fuck her if I saw her at a party.
All week I’ve been practicing walking in these shoes, with help from my sisters. I’d carefully ordered the lingerie to fit a man’s body size. The huge silver wings on Angel’s back were somehow the easiest part to find. Now I saw the total picture of my preparation, I was in trance.
Angel felt different. Another person entirely. She rested on her hips, plopping out her big cheeks for all to see. Her shoulders were relaxed and crouched down, to add to her meek pose. She was shy, I could tell, insecure perhaps if this was a good idea at all. If people would think of it as the joke it was, or perhaps could see, stare down her soul, and know she felt good in these clothes. Sexy even.
It all started a couple of months ago, when I started planning my best friend’s...