Diane locked her lips tight around the base of his cock, deep-throating him, and began to swallow rapidly, her throat working. Everyone at the table could see her cheeks puffing in and out with the effort. The groom’s body arched, his hands clamping onto my thighs as he erupted into her mouth with a series of ragged groans. When he finally went limp, Diane lifted her head. His cock, slick and soft, slid from her lips. She turned to the room, opened her mouth wide, and stuck out her tongue, showing the thick, pearly load pooled there. The men cheered, stomping their feet. With a theatrical flourish, she bent and cleaned his softening cock with her tongue, taking her time, making sure every drop was gone. She gave it a final, almost affectionate pat before tucking it gently back into his pants and zipping him up. I was shaking, weak-kneed. I collapsed, sitting down right on the table, my legs straddling the groom’s head, which now rested in my naked lap. He looked up at me,
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