Bryan, for his part, started off just a little bit too gentle. I think he sort of overestimated the fragility of a female body, and was afraid that if he climbed on top of me or put his weight down too hard he might crush me beneath his weight. I, meanwhile, just wanted to be plowed into next week by his rock hard cock, but I was entirely too sheepish to make the first move to that effect.
It started off with him carrying me into our honeymoon suite in my wedding dress, in the most archetypical of fashions. He sat me down on the bed, and the two of us sat there kissing one another for some time, not even putting our tongues into one another all that much, but pecking kisses upon kisses that were as virginal as either of us were.
It was, I suppose, a little bit cute at first, but quickly grew tedious, and it seemed as though things might never progress to anything beyond that overly sterile starting point.
At last, though, with shaking hands, the two of us made it down to the point of undressing one another, and I loved equally feeling his hands sweep across his body all over, and in turn pulling him out of his tuxedo. Cautiously, I put my hand on his crotch, and he shuttered as I stroked his cock through the fabric of his underwear, to the point that I almost thought he would cum before I even got his pants off of him.
Eventually, he got me down to my tight little bra and panties, hugging my dark features in white lace, and from here I could tell he got really confused with just what he should do. I helped him off just the least bit by taking my bra off for him, because admittedly, I could imagine that being tricky for a man. I refused, however, to do the work of taking off my panties for him, expecting as I did that at some point he was going to have to nut up and get this show on the road himself.
The poor bastard seemed absolutely blown away by his first sight of my dark chocolate tits. Initially, I'd felt just the least bit self-conscious about revealing my nudity to him in this way, not sure what I should do or how I should act in this vulnerable state of undress. But gradually, I began to realize that he was paying far more attention to my breasts themselves than he was to me, and I began to relax somewhat as he stared at my nipples, almost annoyed by how dumbfounded he was, and burning for him to start touching me in the manner I had for so long craved.
After so long of his astonishment, I reached over, and lifted his hands onto me, pressing his palms down onto my breasts, and shuddering as I felt an electrical current of his warmth come shivering through my body. I arched my spine up from the mattress just a bit, pushing myself further into him, and at last this seemed, to some degree or another, to get him started in the direction he needed to be taking.
I began to moan as he leaned down, lightly pecking my body with kisses all over, rolling his tongue around my nipples, but still only just barely scratching the surface as far as really pleasuring me was concerned. The light tension of his initial touches quickly began to grow old when it seemed that no intensification seemed in sight, and once again, I began to feel compelled to carry things further along on his behalf.
Shocking him just a little bit, I think, I took hold of his hand once again, and this time I brought it downalong my body, to a bit of nervous resistance at first. He didn't seemed to comprehend what I was wanting almost, and he tensed just a little bit as I slid his hand down into my panties, and pushed his fingers up against the sensitive, fleshy mound of my mons pubis.
Now we were getting somewhere, I thought, and I moaned harder than ever, letting my legs close around his hand as his grip tightened against me, and him, I think at last seeming to settle into his role just the least bit. He didn't stroke my pussy, however, as I'd been hoping when I slipped his fingers down there, but just seemed to grip tighter, tighter, almost petrified. And as he clutched me in one hand, he continued to squeeze one of my breasts with the other, and to run his little kisses all over my prone body, and finally I resigned myself to just lying there and waiting for things to progress.
It did feel pretty good, I had to admit as I laid there, captive to his love. But I wanted his long hard D more than anything in the world in that moment, and my eyes kept flashing repeatedly down to his crotch as he nibbled on me, at the stiff shaft and the tulip shaped tip bulging pronouncedly through his underwear up at me, a large, dark stain of jizz beginning to spread out across the fly of his boxers.
It was beginning to drive me up the flipping wall...
Finally, I couldn't stand it anymore, and the sex goddess inside me was at last unleashed. I could tell he was stunned when I pulled out from beneath his pecking lips, then pushed him playfully over onto the bed in the warm, wet spot in the blankets where my own prone body had just lain. Then I climbed up on top of him, beaming darkly into his eyes with a mischievous smile across my lips, and bringing my hands down to the waistband of his undies.
Slowly, I peeled him out of the things, dredging the fabric from his ass to his thighs, down to around his knees, and at last bringing them to his shins, where they were out of the way and wouldn't obstruct us. His cock sprang enthusiastically out into the open, swaying this way and that and hypnotizing me, glossy and throbbing and every bit as devastatingly beautiful as I had imagined it might be. I loved its thick pinkness, so rough and so veiny, and in such violent contrast to my own soft, delicate pussy, the two units fitting together perfectly, corresponding in such a glorious fashion that it left no doubt in my mind that there was a wise and perfect God up there who designed such interlocking parts for mankind's enjoyment.
With a trembling hand, I reached cautiously up, and slowly let my fingers collapse around my husband's erection, unsure exactly what I was expecting or what my game plan was, but excited as hell to experience the majesty of sex for the first time. His shaft was hot as hell as I let my fingers ensnare him, almost burning my skin in my surprise, but I began to love the heat of the thing, and to savor it accordingly. Bryan stared down, hypnotized, as I began to stroke his shaft, to push and to pump, to stretch out the skin of his dick to his base and then push it back up to around his tip again, and to watch the fluids course along him as I stroked and stroked and stroked.
And like liquid, my panties began to dissolve from my body as well, slipping to the floor as I lifted my pelvis up over him, and spread my legs wide.
I lowered myself onto him, straddling him with my legs around his sides, and mounting him. I held onto his dick with one hand as I carefully inserted his tip into my pussy, the communion of our warm wet spots causing me to close my eyes tightly with pleasure, and the prospect of consuming him fully turning me on like hell.
I could feel myself getting wetter and wetter for him by the second as I lowered my body down onto him, and beyond a certain point it did begin to hurt just the least bit. But it wasn't anything like I'd always been told, and before long it all it went away, and I found myself sitting down hard on top of him, his tip lodged all the way up inside me, and my eyes wide at the realization of what had just taken place.
From here on out I wasn't a virgin anymore...
I waited for a minute, taking this all in (in more ways than one) and inhaling deeply as I attempted to gain my composure. Then slowly, I began to thrust, to grind my pussy up against his body, loving the feeling of being stretched out as his hot, strong shaft sliced through me. For Bryan's part, he was leaning forward, mesmerized, watching as his cock whisked its way through the distorting folds of my privates, his eyes wide, as though he was as astonished as I was that the two of us were at last doing this.
And from there on out, I only found myself growing more and more invigorated by the joys of our body being united so thoroughly. My grinding began to shift into bouncing, so that soon I was popping up and down on him, riding his cock like a damn pogo stick, repeatedly plunging his immensity up into my body, and drilling him so deep into my insides that I began to see stars from the pleasure of it all. I began to moan, hair swaying and glistening as my body shifted and jostled, breasts bouncing around like basketballs and his eyes now tracking the hopping flecks of my nipples as they s
wung around his field of vision. My flat stomach heaved, sweat pooling and dripping from the soft indent of my navel, my fingers curling up into his flesh as I struggled not to go flying into my own destruction, my breathing labored as I fucked my own lights out on him, and the torrents of pleasure streaming nonstop from my lips, “Oh, oh yes, oh, oh, oh yes, OH!”
And I drove him into me one final time, at just the right moment, at just the right angle, smashing against every perfect spot inside me, and setting us both clean over the edge. I held myself pressed on top of him, trembling, trying not to burst as he did just that inside me, pouring out his load, and filling me clear to the brim with his hot, wet, sticky essence. His ejaculate coated me, claiming me as his own beyond a shadow of a doubt, pulsing deep into my body and dripping back out in its abundance.
And I, in turn, began to come, my entire body lighting up with vigor and enthusiasm, the muscles of my vagina tightening around him, and my shoulders quivering so fiercely as the orgasm gripped me that I might have been having a seizure.
And at last, when I could take no more, I collapsed, my wet, naked body crumpling on top of his own, black on white, both of us gasping and heaving for breath, wide-eyed, and needing at least a moment or two to wrap our spinning, dizzy heads around what the hell it was we'd just done to one another for the first time.
Eventually, we managed to snap back into reality, looking up at one another, each trying to gage the expression of the other, mutually wondering if the sex had been as good for the other as it was for us personally. And, apparently, almost astoundingly, it had been, and we both found ourself smiling cautiously, and then laughing, and then at last he took the initiative, reaching over toward me, pulling my body into himself, and gouging me with an open-mouthed kiss, his tongue swirling around my cheeks, and his body rolling over on top of my own as we readied ourselves for round two.
And Lord, what a honeymoon it was from there on out...
Chapter 2
“Oh Christmas tree, oh Christmas tree, how beautiful your branches...”
Almost ten years later, the sound of the Christmas carol rang hollow in my ears, everyone around me, I felt certain, far more engaged in the lighting of the town tree than I was. Almost ten years... An entire damn decade of marriage... In some ways it seemed like it, but in others... I just couldn't believe it... Bryan and I, in our late twenties at this point, and where the hell had the time gone? And what the hell could you consider the present state of our lives?
Bryan, at present, seemed as mesmerized by the goings on of the event as anyone, smiling with his recently grown lumberjack beard and seeming as enthusiastic as could be, oblivious to my discontent. Or was it discontent? Maybe dissatisfaction was the better word, or maybe not even that... It wasn't so much that I had any particular bone to pick with the way things were, it was just... Like there was something... Something... Something that I wanted, or that I imagined I should want... I didn't even really know...
I looked around at the other happy couples in the square, hip young couples almost all invariably dressed in pea coats and scarves, much like Bryan and I were. And they, for their part, seemed mostly in their element, some of them with little kids by their sides, all cherishing the time spent with family and loved ones, while I was somewhat sourly damning the situation myself in my mind.
Bryan and I had discussed having kids, on and off anyway. I wasn't entirely sure why we hadn't yet, really. I mean, there wasn't really a good reason for it- just like getting married, it was another box to be checked in our life together, and after eight or nine years together, there was really no sense in putting it off any longer. But, then again, it seemed like there was as little reason to have a kid as there was to not have a kid, and although the talks tended to resurface around birthdays and holidays, it seemed like we brought it up more out of a sense of obligation than anything. He seemed to harbor just as little urgent enthusiasm about the idea as I did.
I have to be completely honest, and say that part of what was getting me right here and now was an unfortunate case of the wandering eye. I think it's something that every girl gets at some point in her marriage and I guess it's not an inherently bad thing. Sometimes, I'm sure it's just a sign that you need to get a little bit more excitement in your marriage, try new things, and get those bells jinglin' between you and your husband again.
I mean, for a long time, Bryan and I had enjoyed a tremendous life in the bedroom together. As awkward as that first time had been, the two of us had gotten a hell of a lot more adventurous in the ensuing years, and for a while I had felt that my every want and need were being satisfied to the fullest. Because of our old-fashioned ways, we almost exclusively stuck to vaginal intercourse for the longest time. I mean, we would throw a handjob or two in there as well, because realistically, if you're having sex, your'e going to have to get your hands into the action at some point along the line, and we didn't think that would qualify as sodomy by any stretch of the imagination to the Man Upstairs.
Unexpectedly, though, as the years went along, the two of us had cooled off quite a bit in our religious fervor, and our beliefs had become more like a comforting force for us rather than the set of strict guidelines that it had always been before then. I mean, we still went to church together, but it was a much more liberal and accepting congregation than the one at which we'd met, and its standards were a lot more lax and forgiving.
And so, for at least the first half of our marriage, we'd been able to keep the spark alive between the two of us by introducing these slightly more taboo acts into our bedroom escapades, mutually engaging in oral and anal sex together from time to time- and by mutually engaging in anal sex, I mean sometimes he even requested that I strap on a dildo and peg him back there, much to my surprise and extreme titillation.
I had become quite the freak in the sheets for a while there, I had to say, and in spite of my initially prudish and undersexed nature. I loved how often the two of us tried new things with one another's bodies, and each roll in the hay only left me wanting more and more and more.
But, here's the thing- this loosening of standards had become just a little bit of a double edged sword for me. By the time I found myself unlocking my full sexual potential, and now that I was less concerned about sinning and doing something offensive that might tick off the Lord God almighty, Bryan and I’s marriage was beginning to cool down, and I was left in something of a predicament.
The two of us worked, way too often, and so often our schedules conflicted in such a way that sex, or really, bonding of any kind, took a back seat to getting done what needed to be done. And I mean, when we were together, things were still pretty good, but it seemed like there was just this separation beginning to take hold in our marriage, driving us from one another, and it began to make me feel isolated, and hungry for so much more than I had.
Now that I was more separated from my youthful standards of excessive morality, I almost began to feel mournful that I'd limited myself so much in terms of sexual partners over the years, marrying young, and only ever knowing what it was like to experience the touch of a single individual. Not that I didn't love Bryan but... Realistically, there were a hell of a lot of other guys out there, and I was gradually beginning to accept the truth of the fact that I'd primarily married Bryan just so I could start having sex.
And I knew that I still had it, too... And by “it,” I mean my allure, the one that had turned all the boys' heads back before I was married. I mean, I'm guessing I still got checked out even after I was married, but I'd been so content in my life with Bryan that I hadn't really paid it all any attention. Now, though, that I was feeling discontent and hungering for something more in my life, it felt like men's eyes were almost constantly on me, checking me out and mentally undressing me, and it took me an incredible degree of willpower to resist flirting back with them whenever it happened.
And even now, as the snowflakes fell gently around and as men with families sung happily to the tree in the square, I
could spot a great number of the handsome studs glancing slyly at me from the corners of their eyes, tempting me almost more than I could stand as I gazed around the crowd. There were mostly white dudes there, but a few of the darker persuasion as well, though each set of eyes titillated me equally, as I stared off into the distance and fantasized about viciously bedding each and every last one of them, sometimes even getting extra adventurous and imagining being with more than one of them at a time.
And suddenly, I froze, as I caught sight of one sexy stud in particular. He didn't see me, or at least I didn't think, but I felt myself suddenly struggling to breathe as I watched him pass, my blood running cold, and an inexplicable feeling of jealousy washing over me. On his arm, was some taut bodied little wisp of a platinum blonde bombshell of a girlfriend, throbbing her plump ass all over the place with every step she took in her tight candy cane striped leggings, the pattern mesmerizing me for moment until I managed to tear my gaze away from the figure that had just managed to wholly ruin my evening.
“Hon... Hon...” I tugged on my husband's arm, and it took him a moment to notice me.
“Huh? Yeah what is it, hon?” he answered distractedly.
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