My First Sexual Experience

Dear Diary,

It's been a long time since I've shared anything with you. I have a lot to update you on; I feel like I need you more than ever. As you know, I'm now a married woman! My wedding was supposed to be the greatest day of my life. But I kept thinking that it was the last time I would ever live with my family. For 18 years, all I knew were my parents and my little sisters. It was also my birthday. It's customary in our church to have a betrothed girl marry on her 18th birthday, as had been tradition. I was the oldest in my family, and I knew that my little sisters would soon be betrothed to their future husbands as well. We never questioned it, because we had grown up with it.

I had known my husband for 6 months prior to our wedding. He was a tall man (almost 6'4"), stocky, balding, and 24 years my senior at age 42. We had never spent any time alone before our wedding day; all of our meetings prior to marriage were chaperoned by my family. He would come have dinner at our home once a week, and I would sit adjacent to him, saying virtually nothing throughout dinner. We listened to him and my father talk about politics, current events, and especially their plans for my future and the futures of my three little sisters. We girls just sat there silently, gently picking at our dinner plates like pretty little birds.

My future husband was chosen for me because of his place in our community. He was the reverend's eldest son, which held significant status. It was an honor for my family that he had taken a liking to me. He literally could have chosen any girl in the church that he wanted, but he and my father decided that I would be the right girl for him. The age difference wasn't that unusual in our community. Up until about 20 years ago, young girls could have been married off at 14 if they wanted. Thank God they no longer do that.

My husband was still single at 42 because he had not wanted to settle down, living a promiscuous life in his youth. He had rejected the church from the time he was teenager until his 40th birthday, when he became "born again" and rededicated himself to the Lord, just in time to marry a young girl of his choosing. His father, our Reverend, was more than thrilled to have his son back in the church, and he believed that a good young woman was needed to keep his son on the straight and narrow path. He had taken his family through numerous drug rehabs and money troubles, but it seemed as if he had put all that past him.

As soon as he saw me, he knew I was to be his wife, he told my father. Not to be immodest, but I know I'm an attractive young girl. I've noticed how men looked at me. I'm 5'5", with navel length light brown hair, naturally curly on the ends. I always caught boys staring at me during church service, and the mothers would comment on my figure. I had "good child bearing hips" they said. I was voluptuous from a young age. My bra size was a B when I was 11 years old, and I had matured into a 36 C on the day I turned 18. I was athletic and had danced ballet since I was a little girl, giving me long, toned legs and a nice butt. People also said that I was pretty in an approachable way.

Because of my looks, I may have been the type of girl to get into trouble as a teen, but my father had kept really close guard of our virtues. We were home schooled; internet and TV were closely monitored, and only a few select channels were available to us. Father saw the outside world as evil and corrupting, and he hated how much sex and violence permeated outside society. As you can imagine, I was ill-prepared for what was to come on my wedding day.

My first sexual experience came on the day of my wedding, immediately after our wedding ceremony. It's customary for the bride and groom to spend several minutes alone and away from the guests. This was our time to spiritually become one and to privately reinforce our vows to each other. When my husband and I entered into that room, it was the first time we had ever been alone together, and I noticed a change in him immediately. He had always been extremely respectful, but now he was very assertive and very clear on what he wanted. He stood extremely close to me, towering over me. As I looked up at him, he gently brushed my hair and traced my lips with his thick fingers.

He told me that he loved me, that I belonged to him now and that as his wife, I had certain duties to perform. It was the most words he had ever said to me at one time. As he said this, he slid his finger into my mouth, almost down my throat. I gagged a little and put my hand on my neck. He told me to keep sucking his finger, while he reached down and grabbed my breasts over my wedding gown, squeezing each one almost like produce at a grocery store. "Firm," he said.

I was scared; I had never experienced anything with a man before, but I kept sucking on his finger like he asked. It was salty, and I began to roll my tongue around it, pulling it with my full lips. I heard him groan. My eyes were closed, and I was so focused on sucking his finger that I did not notice that he had removed his pants and underwear. He was standing there naked from the waist down, and then he suddenly pulled his finger out of my mouth. I opened my eyes, and I saw it.

His massive erection was a mix of pink, red, and blue veins with a huge mushroom head. I gasped. I was in shock. The most I had ever seen of a boy was kissing in the movies. And now I was told to do the unthinkable. He asked if I was a virgin— a silly question, since it was illegal for a man in our church to marry a non-virgin girl. I confirmed that I was, and he asked me if I had ever seen a "cock" before. Of course I had not. He took my right hand and cupped it on his scrotum, and then slid my hand up and down his shaft, wrapping my fingers around his penis. He was standing so close that I could feel his deep groans and smell the stink of his breath, as my hand moved up and down his penis. I don't remember breathing or moving an inch. I just stood there and stroked him while our wedding guests waited right outside our door.

After a moment or two, he opened his eyes and looked down at me. He shoved his finger back into my mouth again and told me that it felt really good. He said that he could tell I had a talent for sucking. Then without saying another word, he put his hands on my shoulders and pushed me onto my knees in front of him. Kneeling in my wedding dress in front of his erection, I was confused and utterly alone. The recurring prayer in my head was that my father or one of our guests would knock on the door and tell us it was time to come and rejoin our wedding. But no knock came. I was vulnerable, and my life was about to change forever.

I could feel the weight of his big hand behind my head. His thick fingers tangled in my hair. He said nothing to me as he guided my virgin mouth onto his bulging hard penis. I pretended it was his finger as my lips wrapped around the head. I heard him groan deeply, from the bottom of his belly. I looked up and saw that his eyes were closed, mouth open and his head tilted far back, as I worked more of it into my mouth. "Pretend like it's candy," he moaned.

It tasted much saltier than his finger and had a mild urine smell. I closed my eyes and said a prayer as I sucked him, taking it deep into my throat and back out again. "Use your tongue," he would say occasionally. I wrapped my tongue around his shaft, rolling it around his head as he was instructing me to do. He told me to put my arms behind my back, and then he cupped my head with both of his huge hands as he moved my mouth back and forth on his penis. He began groaning so loudly, that I was mortified our guests would hear him. It seemed like an eternity that I sucked him, sometimes going so deep that my throat hurt. His big hands held my head in place like a vice, as he pleasured himself with my mouth, tongue, and tight throat. I kept my eyes closed so tight, and I could hear myself groaning from the pain of his erection hitting the back of my throat. I looked over at the mirror and saw myself on my knees, in my wedding gown, orally pleasuring my new husband. I felt powerless but powerful at the same time.

Then all of the sudden, his body convulsed and twitched, and he pulled his penis out of my mouth. I was sucking so hard that when he pulled it out, it made a big popping sound. He let out another deep groan and shot hot white semen or "cum," as he called it, over my lips and face, before shoving his penis back into my mouth and shooting the remaining load into my mouth. With both hands, he pushed my lips all the way to his scrotum, as his penis slid completely down my throat. I gagged hard, before he pulled his shaft out of my mouth, making his cum dribble down my lips. I had swallowed half his load, and the rest was all over my face, chin, and wedding dress. He crumpled into his chair, spent and exhausted.

I swallowed hard a few more times to get the taste of his semen out of my mouth. It wasn't like anything I had ever tasted before; there was nothing I could compare it to. It was bitter and salty and had an aftertaste of spoiled milk. It was also thick and clumpy. My lips and my entire face were sticky and smelled like it.

I slowly got off my knees, which were red and sore. He threw me his handkerchief, so I could wipe his cum off of my face and my wedding dress. I ran into the bathroom to clean my face, rinse my mouth out, and straighten up, and as I looked into the mirror, I did not recognize the person that was looking back at me. I was sad but exhilarated. A whole new world had been opened up to me, but I could never return to the world I left behind. I was a different person. I wanted to be a good wife and obey my husband's every command and try to please him. But I was scared; I did not know what men wanted, and all I could think about was what would be expected of me on the wedding night. I decided that I would let him lead and pleasure himself with me as he saw fit. I truly believed that this is what would give me pleasure as well. It's what we are taught in the church— to do whatever our husbands ask of us. A woman's happiness derives from that.

He was waiting for me as I came out of the bathroom. Without saying a word to each other, we rejoined our wedding guests.