It was 11 o'clock before we got to the hotel, both exhausted after the long day. I helped her unzip her wedding dress, and she eased out of it, seeming shy, somehow small. She crossed quickly to the other side of the bed, crouching down in front of her suitcase to retrieve her pajamas. She put them on before standing up.
"I think you're beautiful," I told her, half-asleep already. I managed to take off my pants, socks, and dress shirt before my head hit the pillow. Her nervous, curious glances between my crotch and my face didn't go unnoticed, but I was way too tired.
"I can't believe we're married," she murmured, laying down cautiously next to me. She rested her hand experimentally on my belly.
I leaned over to touch my forehead to hers. "Me neither. But I'm really glad we are."
"Did you want to . . ." Her voice trailed off sleepily.
"Go to sleep?" I mumbled. "Yes."
She turned over onto her side, then, and I turned toward her, putting an arm over her. The feel of her, soft and warm against me, was exactly right.
"Hey, you know what?" I asked, sliding sideways into a dream. "I love you."
The last thing I heard was her laugh, and the last thing I felt was her lifting my hand to kiss it.
-
She shifted against me, and I woke up to find my hardening cock between her butt cheeks. I tried (unsuccessfully) to stifle a groan. I wanted her. And I knew she was tired. My ungentlemanly dick didn't care. Maybe I could just turn over and think about something elseโ
She moved again, pressing her bottom against me. This was going to get sticky soon. Literally. "Sweetie?" I asked quietly.
"Yeah?" she responded, not sounding particularly asleep, and pulled me closer to her.
"I really want to. . . uh. . . join with you." Ugh, did I sound dumb. "Do you think . . .?"
Turning to face me, she reached down between us, finding my cock and touching it gingerly. "Yes," she murmured. "I'm scared."
I kissed her mouth then, for the second time in our entire lives, trying to remember what I'd read. Create desire. Go easy. Light. Gentle. "It's just me," I whispered. "I'm not going to do anything until you ask me to."
She started blushing. "I don't know if I can."
"Ask?" I inquired, running a gentle hand down her side. "Or do it?"
"I mean, I don't knowโhow do youโwhat do we call it?" I could feel her breathing starting to change.
"What do you want to call it?" I asked, letting my palm brush against one of her nipples. She inhaled sharply.
"Make . . . love?" she guessed, pressing her belly against mine, my cock trapped between us. I wanted her so much.
"Maybe I'll just get naked, and you can do whatever you want to me until you feel comfortable?" I suggested. Don't pressure a new bride into full intercourse. Allow her time to adjust. Find pleasurable activities she can direct. She may wish to see your nudity before she is comfortable revealing her own. She may be intimidated, and should be addressed with kindness and patience.
"Whatever I want?" she asked, a glint of trouble in her smile alongside the nervousness.
"I mean, within reason," I clarified, sitting up enough to pull off my undershirt.
She sat up, watching me, and then reached over, resting her hand on my now-naked belly again. Only my underwear was between her and a fully-nude husband. "I want to see everything," she murmured, her hand sliding lower. She dipped her fingers below the waistband, and I almost passed out.
"I want you to see me," I murmured. "I want you to see me and hear me and feel me and touch me and taste me everywhere. And when you're ready, I'll repay the favor."
She nudged me. "Stand up."
I rose, facing her as I stood next to the bed, my cock hard and swollen, pressing against my underwear. "Do you want me toโ"
Grabbing my underwear, she pulled it down to my knees, my cock springing free. She moved to the edge of the bed, swinging her legs down to the floor, embraced me, and kissed my belly.
An involuntary sound escaped my throat, and I stepped out of my underwear. As much as I wanted to guide her head to my cock and push myself into her mouth, I waited. "You are so good," I managed, stroking her hair with one hand. "I love you."
She reached up and circled her hand around my cock, pulling on it lightly, experimentally. "I love you too," she answered, smiling up at me. "Do you like this?"
"Yes," I choked. "It feels even better when you put your whole hand around and kind of . . . go up and down."
"Like this?" she asked, starting to stroke me gently.
I couldn't watch, for fear of going off, so only tipped my head back as her warm hand coaxed me closer. "Yeah, that's really good," I managed.
"But you said something about tasting," she pointed out.
I almost lost it just hearing her say that. "If you want to put me in your mouth, you can," I offered, swallowing hard. "Um, wives can . . . suck . . . their husband's . . ."
"What do you call it?" she asked curiously, cupping my balls with the other hand, rolling them gently.
"My cock. What do you call yours?"
She paused for a moment. "I don't think I do," she admitted, glancing down at herself surreptitiously. "Mom said flower, but that's such a little-kid name."
"Vulva?" I suggested. This was good. It was distracting enough to avoid me coming on her face immediately.
"Pussy," she decided, savoring the word. It was startling to hear her say it. "You're going to put your cock in my pussy, and you're going to make love to me. Because you're my husband, and I'm your wife."