Ali and I were married!
Finally, after the months and months of waiting, we were husband and wife. Tonight was the night! I was finally going to get to be with my man, finally allowed to sleep with the person I had come to love so much. Only to have to endure a five-hour wedding reception for six hundred guests in the fanciest hotel in town.
"If I've waited this long..." I thought, not a little desperately. But then there was something about being the center of attention, wearing a once-in-a-lifetime dress, finally seeing all the planning materialized in a beautiful, romantic evening. Everything so far had gone perfectly to plan, from the quiet, family-only ceremony in the morning to cutting the tiered, white chocolate wedding cake just minutes ago.
As a group of relatives I didn't recognize climbed the stage to pose for a picture with Ali and me as the night wound down, my brand new husband leaned close to my ear and whispered, "Do you know these people?"
I laughed, and said, "I thought they were from your side." Bound to happen at a wedding this size, I supposed.
"Say cheese!" trilled the increasingly irritating photographer. My face was starting to hurt from all the smiling. Not that I wasn't ecstatically happy. I was just getting increasingly anxious about being alone with Ali, about finally having sex with him. It wasn't as though I hadn't fantasized about it endlessly, seeing it again and again in my mind's eye as I masturbated with increasing anticipation every night. We had been alone many times before, but not since I had cheated on him with Jane.
I couldn't decide if it even counted as cheating, since it was with a woman. I couldn't decide if I should tell him or just convince myself it never happened. If I did tell him, would Ali be more angry at the fact that I had slept with someone else, or that that someone was female? Jane and I were perfectly clear that our one night of passion didn't mean we wanted a relationship; it was just that, a night of passion and physical love between two friends who desperately needed to get laid. I knew I wasn't a lesbian, but would Ali be frightened by my unexpected sexual openness? I didn't want to disappoint him so early in our relationship, before we had a chance to build something of our own. But I didn't know how long I could last, keeping such a secret to myself.
And then there was the anticipation of the sex itself. Could it possibly live up to everything I had dreamed of? Would Ali be the lover I had fantasized about since I hit puberty? Would I be able to please him, or would he be disappointed? Could he somehow sense that I had more experience than he had previously thought?
It was with this maelstrom of emotions: guilt, love, shame, desire, anxiety, and happiness, that I walked into the elevator with Ali, hand in hand, as we waved goodbye to the crowd of crying, happy loved ones. This was it! We were going up to our honeymoon suite, for what felt like the culminating night of my entire life. As soon as the elevator doors slid closed, Ali and I reached for one another in our first embrace as a married couple.
"I love you, baby," Ali whispered into my neck, as a hot stab of guilt struck deep in my stomach. "I'm so happy you're finally mine."
"I love you too, so much," I said, just before I kissed him lightly, hoping to convey with a kiss all the things I was too afraid to say.
We finally made it up to our penthouse suite, a gift from Ali's parents, and we followed the trail of rose petals to our door. Ali opened the door, and to my surprise, picked me up, twenty-five pounds of embroidered silk and all. He carried me over the threshold and gently set me down before turning around to lock the door. Ali turned around, and with a soft smile playing across his lips and an inscrutable look in his eyes, he walked over to me where I stood in the center of the candlelit room, and he said to me, "Well, here we are."
"Yes," I said, heart still pounding from our elevator kiss. "I almost can't believe it." I looked down, the meaning of the look in his eyes suddenly becoming clear -- it was desire, uncloaked and unrestrained. Surprisingly, I felt shy in front of him, for the first time I could remember. His light touch on my chin guided my face upwards again, and seeing the lust in Ali's eyes reignited every flame in my body. A split second later, we were kissing fiercely, Ali pressing my body to his with an intensity that finally reflected my own.
Before I realized it, my heavy embroidered veil had fallen to the plush ivory carpet, and Ali's hands had somehow managed to untangle my hair from its hairpins. We were both murmuring and sighing with pleasure as our tongues teased each other, stroking against each other in a way that gave me goosebumps. He held my head gently, his fingers wound in my hair as I allowed him deeper and deeper entry to my mouth.
As I purred with pleasure Ali sucked my lower lip, grazing it with his tongue before he thrust it back between my lips, searching for my tongue again. His caresses were making my nipples poke painfully at the underside of my heavily embroidered blouse and my pussy throb with anticipation. I kissed his tongue as it entered my mouth, using my lips to surround and suck it. Ali made a rumbling sound in his chest, and I pulled a little away from him, using my tongue to trace an outline on his lips. Our lips met again, kissing one last time, gentler and softer now, before we drew apart.
There was a feeling of relief as the edge of our passion had been taken off. A little breathlessly, Ali brushed a strand of hair away from my face, saying, "You are amazing. I am so lucky to have you as my wife."
Without responding, I slowly lowered myself in front of him, running my hands over his long silk tunic, feeling the heat of his flesh through the black material. I knelt on the floor, almost penitent, with my deep burgundy and gold skirt pooling on the carpet around me. My hands had stopped on Ali's thighs, my face level with his crotch. As I moved one hand lightly over the bulge that was already visible there, I looked up to see Ali suck in his stomach, and breathe out hard through his nose. "Oh god, Meetra," he whispered as I cupped my hand over his constrained erection, feeling him throb through the thin silk of his tunic and trousers.
I felt Ali tense his muscles before he pulled the tunic over his head, revealing broad, toned muscles gliding under bronze skin. His hands made fists at his sides as I began to kiss his stomach, rubbing his thighs with a little more pressure now. Ali's eyes closed and his face turned upward as he struggled to maintain control. I traced circles around his navel with my tongue, sucking and nibbling his skin. I grasped his hips and begin to kiss just below his belly button, following the trail of fine black hairs that eventually disappeared under the drawstring waist of his black silk trousers, and I heard Ali let out a soft moan.
Ali was now breathing like he had raced up several flights of stairs, and when I paused and drew away from him, he finally opened his eyes and looked down at me, a thin sheen of sweat glistening on his forehead.
"Are you ready?" I asked. Ali nodded his head, his neck muscles cording with anticipation.
"Take it out," I whispered breathlessly, my eyes fixed on his crotch, "come on, show me your cock, baby."
My heartbeat quickened under my breast as Ali unclenched one fist and slid his hand under the drawstring of his Indian pyjamas. With a soft rustle of silk, he tugged the waist down and hooked it under his sack, his hard penis springing up and out as he did so, finally free of its confines. I stared entranced at eight inches of thick, veined, bronze cock sprouting from a neatly trimmed thicket of black curls, as Ali's broad hand pumped it into an almost upright angle.
"Oh yes," I murmured, feeling a warm buzzing begin in my pussy.
"You like my cock, Meets?" grunted Ali, placing both of hands on his hips, thrusting his pelvis towards my face, "You wanna taste my cock?"