When did I first realize that bridal gowns turned me on? I can pinpoint the exact moment. I was stopping by the photography studio to meet my girlfriend after a shoot. There she was under the lights, wearing a wedding gown; I was amazed at how instantly excited I was to see her in such a thing.

Dawn was an outrageously sexy woman! Naturally I’d seen her in all manner of clothing, from chic designer dresses to sweatshirts and blue jeans; any outfit on her was stunning. She had long, dark hair, equally dark doe eyes and a button mouth with ruby-red lips. I remember trying to get her to give me head in the cab all the way to the restaurant, trying to put out the fire raging in my loins.

“My goodness,” she said as I pressed her hand against my fly, my excitement tangible in the hardness of my cock. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?” “I guess I just saw you in a different way,” I said as I tried to fondle her breasts.

“You mean it was the gown that did this to you?” Dawn asked, stroking my yearning hard-on.

“Maybe I should wear it every day.”

The thought of that made me come, my cock still in her hand, semen smearing my pants. She laughed at my eagerness, but as I held her tightly in my arms in the traffic, I whispered, “Can you get that dress?” Frequently Dawn is able to take away some of the clothes she models, although, as she unzipped my cords, it was hard to think straight. “I’ll give it a shot,” she said before wrapping her lips around my dick.

I guess Dawn did give it her best shot, because a few days later, she marched into my apartment with an enormous box and a garment bag. “Guess what I’ve got!” she crowed. My smile could have lit up New York City; I could hardly contain my excitement.

Dawn scooted into the den while I waited in the bedroom. I decided to play it to the hilt and got out my tuxedo and then thought, naw, strip down and put on just the bow tie.

I was admiring myself in the mirror when I saw Dawn walk in behind me. My erection and I whirled around to once again drink in the vision of heaven that had so thrilled me a few days before: It was a huge silk taffeta affair with lots of beadwork and a veil that angled up everywhere at once, and the long gloves, and the shoesthe whole bit. I was frozen with lust. She walked across the room with these little steps as if she were walking down the aisle. Soon she was only the length of my cock away from me, and I was nailing taffeta.

“Before I give you the fucking of your life,” she whispered breathily to me, “let me warn you. This ensemble is only on loan, and I had to beg and flirt like crazy to get it. So if you rip it or get a come stain on it, you’re two thousand dollars in the hole.” She pulled me by both ends of my bow tie to her lips, and we began kissing with a fever I had never before experienced. We both grew dizzy and lowered ourselves to the bed. Then I got an idea. “I’ll be right back,” I yelled as I ran out of the room. I ran to the stereo and put on the proper music. When I rejoined her, she looked at me quizzically. “What is that?” she asked.

“Wagner-you’ll see.” And so she did. As I kissed her neck, the familiar strains of “Here Comes the Bride” filled the room. Dawn began to laugh, but I quickly silenced her with a probing kiss. As I reached to cup her breasts, she disengaged herself from me and sat up.

“I’ve got to get out of this dress,” she moaned. I helped her out of it and found that she was wearing Frederick’s of Hollywood lingerie that was so frilly it made my head spin. She slipped out of her shoes and made me get down and kiss her toes through her stockings. I don’t know when I’ve been so turned on.

She was quite a picture in her exquisite lace bra, panties, garters and stockings, yet she was still wearing her headdress and long gloves. Her nimble, lace-encased fingers pulled on my turgid organ. She ran her soft fingertips up and down it and took it all in her tiny mouth. It was tremendously exciting having this vision of lace and silk making love to me, and on impulse I suddenly pulled Dawn off my cock and down onto the bed and kissed her fiercely. I unhooked her bra, her breasts spilling free into my grasping hands. I sucked and chewed on her nipples until she whispered, “Come on, baby. You know what you get to do to the bride.”

I slid her flimsy panties down her legs, leaving the stockings and garters in place. I then aimed my erection at her oozing slit and planted it deep within her. Each exhalation of air from her was accompanied by a guttural moan from me as I thrust into her, and her nylon-covered legs wrapped themselves around my torso. Luckily, Wagner wrote long operas, for the music was still playing when I fired my seed into Dawn’s depths.

So began my obsession with bridal gowns. I often wondered what it was about women wearing them that set me afire like a tinderbox. I guessed it was their inherent purity; they are white supposedly because the bride is a virgin. Then again, when you see a bride, you know that that night, she is going to be fucked by her husband.

It was a masturbatory revelation of the first order when I began to discover those bridal magazines that are sold on newsstands. I can’t imagine what the magazine sellers thought. Here was a thirty-year-old man buying periodicals designed for impending brides. I circumvented the disapproving looks by subscribing to the magazines. I paged through them slowly and rapturously, gazing at  those classically beautiful models resplendent in their gowns; I’d get so worked up that I’d take out my rockhard cock and masturbate to thunderous orgasms.

I was becoming a basket case at weddings. A friend of mine got hitched, and I was invited. The bride was so beautiful, and her dress was so spectacular, that I spent the whole reception with an aching hard-on. When I danced with the bride, it was all I could do not to come in my pants.

I think it was that wedding which made me realize that what I was really hoping for was a real-life bride to make love to. My bride. And it was about this time that I met Kimberly. Hardly the fashion-model type I’ve spent so much time thinking about, Kimberly is a zookeeper. She’s fair, with crystalline blue eyes and the allAmerican look of a farm-belt homecoming queen. From the day I met her, she always felt like a cool breeze on a lazy summer’s day to me. A far cry from Dawn, who would wear a wedding dress in only a professional capacity. Kimberly, when I asked her to be my wife, agreed with all her heart.

I proposed to her on New Year’s Eve. We rang in the new year with a passionate round of lovemaking. And as we lay together afterward, watching the snow fall outside my window, I popped the big question and presented her with an engagement ring.

She was so happy that her eyes filled with tears and she hugged me tight. Then she looked at me lustfully and said she had to give me a proper answer. She lowered her head to my half-hard cock, which sprang to full life in microseconds. She fellated me lovingly, her fingers nimbly fondling my balls. I simply lay back, thanked my lucky stars and dreamed of seeing her in white satin.

The wedding was planned for June. Kimberly and her mother were a little surprised that I wanted to tag along when they went shopping for a gown.

Little did they know that for me it was like dying and going to heaven. Kimberly tried on several dresses, and each time she walked out to twirl around in front of a mirror, my heart raced with excitement.

That night, when she asked me why I was so interested in such things, I mumbled something like “I just happen to think women in bridal gowns are attractive.” But she saw through me and pressed me on it. I decided to let her in on my little sex secret.

“You know how some guys like women in lingerie, and others like them in leather? Well, my thing is wedding gowns.” Then, risking her censure, I showed her my stack of bridal magazines and told her that my life’s dream was to be tonguedeep in the love-of-my-life’s vagina and completely surrounded by yards of satin and lace. She regarded me a little strangely at first, but then her face broke into a smile a mile wide.

“Well, I think you’re going to be an absolute tiger on our wedding night,” she said.