They say that it is unlucky for a groom to see his bride before the wedding. Phineas wasn't sure if closing eyes would count, since even with darkness filling his eyelids, the image of Isabella kneeling in front of him, her hand and lips wrapped around his cock, was firmly burned into his mind.

It started with a simple kiss, but Phineas should have known that Isabella rarely was satisfied with just that. Four increasingly more ravenous kisses later Phineas was pushed against, and forced to half-sit on the dressing table Isabella's been occupying for the last hour, preparing herself.

The next moment his fly was open, and Phineas felt a wave of cold air against his cock, substituted by Isabella's warm breath a second later, the sudden change of temperature being only one of the factors that sent shivers along his entire body.

Isabella already excelled at handjobs, but Phineas had yet to experience one given through a pair of delicate, satin gloves, their supposed colour of innocence contrasting with the immoral action they were performing. And then there was Isabella herself, occasionally kissing his swollen tip, leaving lipstick marks further and further along his shaft.

- Isa... Isabella! - Phineas let out a forcefully silent cry, clutching the desk - We... we shouldn't... we don't...

- Don't worry, we've got time... - she cooed, paying closed attention to his twitching tip.

Her assurance, spoken in low, smoky voice did nothing to calm Phineas, only worsening his situation. The husband-to-be had to put every ounce of his willpower not to blast his seed across his future wife's face and her dress, ruining, or at the very least delaying the entire ceremony. And yet, he couldn't find power in him to stand up and interrupt her love torture. Even though she was using only minimal force against him, it was hypnotising and alluring enough to render him immobile. Every once in a while, curled strands of hair decorating both sides of her face would brush against his cock, sending more goosebumps through his skin, bringing him closer and closer to the undesirable finish.

Then came the noises. Isabella did everything to ensure that all of Phineas' senses will register every second of her lewd performance. From gentle, soft moans that vibrated against his skin when she had her mouth closed, to unapologetically loud, slurping noises that occurred whenever Isabella swallowed the saliva she's been coating Phineas' cock with.

At some point, however, saliva was not the only taste that reached Isabella's palette. First drops of salty, musky pre-cum alerted her at once, together with increased volume of her lover's moans coming from above.

- So soon? You must be eager to come, Phineas... - she taunted him, using her hand to gently pump him - Have you been saving up for our wedding night?

- Yes! - Phineas cried and bit his lip.

- Do you want to come, Phineas? - she asked slowly - Do you want to ruin me, here and now? Mark me, so everyone would know I am yours?

- Isabella... please... - he whined, throwing his head upwards and closing him eyes. He knew that if he saw her one more time, in her superficially submissive pose, looking at him with the ravenous glimpse in her eyes, then the moment she'd open her mouth he would lose all of his temper. Whether he'd be able to grab her head and bury himself inside her, dumping his load down her throat, or paint her face with it, he wasn't sure. There were so many possibilities of it going horribly, horribly wrong...

In a split of a second, when he was at the very edge of his orgasm, he made the decision to grab the back of her head, but when he was about to reach his hands to do it, her grip on his cock suddenly vanished. He opened his eyes, afraid that he might see his future wife in even more erotic pose, but Isabella was on her feet again, gently smoothing any creases her dress might have gained in the process.

- I...Isabella?

- Mhm? - she raised her head, looking nonchalantly at the bewildered face of Phineas, as if nothing has happened - You were right, we might not have time for this. You should smarten yourself up a bit. I'd do that, but... I'm afraid any more touches from me would set you off.

Gasping for air, Phineas remained on the desk for another minute or so, trying to comprehend what has (and hasn't) happened. Finally, he slid to his feet, his legs wobbly from the amount of internal pressure they had to withstand. He still felt the burning, throbbing, unfulfilled need in his loins, but with each calm breath he was one step away from exploding in his pants or onto the floor. He closed his fly, and let Isabella clean his face from the traces of her lipstick. When she reached her hand to do so, Phineas made almost an automatic step back afraid that even this might be too much.

- Darn, Isa... You know how to tease me...

- Well, you've been unknowingly teasing me for years, so I learned from the best. - she joked.

- You know how wrong it could have gone, right?

- Nope. I had everything, including you under control, Phineas. - she retorted quickly - But I want you to promise me one thing.

- Okay...

His eyes bulged when Isabella suddenly grabbed him by the hem of his suit and leaned onto him, whispering into his ear.

- Tonight I don't want you to control yourself at all, Phineas. - she spoke - And since it's out wedding night, a bride has to be wearing white... And I want to wear white, *your* shade of white, from head to toes, you understand? My hair, face, breasts, legs... I know you're capable of it, I felt how tense and full you are down there... Can you promise me this, Phineas Flynn?

She leaned back, staring into (predictably) half-mortified face of her future husband, his mouth ajar, until he was forced to take a breath and gulp down the saliva that has been collecting in his mouth.

- Uh...

- I'll take it as a yes. - Isabella smiled, and reached her hands to fix his bowtie, again, as if it was a completely regular behaviour after confessing a sexual fantasy.

- I must be the luckiest guy in the world... I would say, if I didn't know that around four hundred men every day could say the same thing, and "luck" is difficult to quantify.

- You are lucky that we share so many kinks, though. Me, being such a dirty girl, and you being... a man.

- Oh, I am gonna prove that I am a man, Isabella.

- Can't wait already, honey.

She took the hem of her dress and carefully stepped to open the door, checking if Phineas could sneak out easily.

- By the way, Ferb built a pneumatic press.

- The wh-What for? - it was time for Isabella to suddenly become astonished, despite years of living with Phineas' quirks.

- To break the glass, of course! - he answered. - But don't worry, it's till pedal-operated, so it doesn't collide with the tradition.

- Mazel tov!