Tom Holland smuts

The Wedding

I was a ball of nerves. This was it, the day when I finally committed to marrying my fiance after years spent together. It felt weird, like I was giving up on all the freedoms that came with not being married. I didn't mind taking his name, it went well with my first name, and for me there were no connotations of ownership or anything like that. I was rambling to myself, keeping on telling myself that it was just wedding nerves and I was marrying the man I loved. But I couldn't get out of my head.

I was alone in the bridal annex of the chapel, having chased everyone out so I could panic in the privacy on my own; my bridesmaids had given me a look of concern as they left, my maid of honor squeezing my hand as she left muttering "Do whatever you think is right". It had been a really hectic morning beforehand, where I was surrounded by people at all times from the moment I woke up alone in my hotel room - even if I hadn't gone to sleep on my own. 

Tom had been there, sneaking into my room last night once I'd excused myself to the rest of the celebrants, including the grooms parents and immediate family and my bridal party; carefully using the spare keycard I'd arranged for him to have. He wasn't supposed to be here, but I couldn't deny him. I loved Tom deeply, and had spent quite a bit of the night in tears as he tried to console me over the next step - the wedding, and my agony that things would never be the same again. But between the tears we'd managed to sneak in what I thought of as one last single hurrah together - clinging to each other through the night, making love for hours, kissing him till my mouth was swollen, trying to get enough of him, the comfort of him.

So from 7am I had been surrounded by people, brides maids, maid of honor, my future mother in law and her mother too. I had puffy eyes from not sleeping and crying, so was forced into a chilled eyemask and sent to have a bath. Bathed, but not relaxed I dressed in my exquisite bridal underwear - the sheer scalloped lace thong with matching garter belt and silk stockings, silky to the touch and sensously clinging to my skin as I attached the garter straps; no bra needed in the corset style top of my wedding dress. I pulled on my fluffy dressing gown over the top as I sat at the dressing table and the make up artist began to weave her magic on my pale skin. Painting, blending, dabbing, and sweeping on blush, I stared blankly at my reflection in the mirror as a new me emerged with the cosmetics. I still couldn't believe it was today, that day where I would say "I do". How had we got here?

We'd been together for about 3 years when he proposed, in a cheesy fashion at the end of darts night in the pub as we were walking home. I hadn't suspected it and when he went down on one knee in the middle of the street I thought he'd had too much to drink and had tripped - but then he drew the typical ring box from his pocket and stammered his way through a request that I married him. I said yes, obviously, thats why we were here today just 6 months later. Was it that I felt rushed? Was it that I just couldn't cope with the changes? I didn't know, but I looked at my left hand where soon a slim white gold ring would join my delicate engagement ring. I had to say he had amazing taste, knowing what I would like rather than imposing his tastes on me. My nails, carefully manicured, my hand moisturised to perfection. Sipping from the proferred glasses of prosecco, listening to the bustle of everyone else getting ready too. Panicking.

Once the mask of makeup had been applied, then they moved onto my hair, it was dampened then pulled and twisted and curled, tongs applied, curls created and the bundled up onto my head, tightly restrained as my tiara was pinned painfully into the mass of curls. Throughout it I sat mind racing, flitting between Tom and his teary eyes and wistful smile as he left me early this morning, the look of longing on his face to stay, and today with all its pomp and ceremonies and commitment. Finally the dress, as I was laced into the corset top, the slim satin skirt that fell from it, puffed out with crinoline, attached and I was ready, off to the church annex to wait for the time to come.