Dara Instructed By Her Husband 2

A small town in East Thailand

Summer 2006

This is intended as a stand-alone story. Events occur immediately after "Dara Fishes..." and the chapter numbering is consistent.

Chapter 3. Married. The wedding night continues as the groom enjoys his purchased bride and she experiences pleasure. (Erotic Couplings. Sex before supper.)

Chapter 4. First Married Dinner Conversation. Getting to know each other.

Chapter 5. Wedding Night. The groom continues to enjoy his purchased bride. (Sex after supper. Erotic Coupling)

Dara, who went fishing for a husband on the web, was successful. This morning she saw her temporary husband for the first time. By noon she was married. While her family enjoyed a late lunch, she was deflowered. We start at the end of her first nap as a married woman.

Dara is an 18-year old Thai female. He temporary husband Sung Ro is an American, with pure Korean blood. Now 26 years old, he is a PhD. His main job is teaching in Hong Kong, but during the summer he gives banking seminars in Thailand.

Chapter 3.

Married

Late in the afternoon I woke up and found myself looking into surprisingly mischievous smiling eyes.

"Do you feel married?" he asked. The eyes and the voice created the impression in my mind of a cartoon imp.

"Actually, I did not expect to, but I do. Maybe not the way most Westerners feel married, forever and ever, deep in love, blah, blah, blah. But as your wife for today? Yes. The next five years? Yes, I am good with that."

"Would you like..." he started to say, and I finished his thought like it was my own.

"... that shower now? Yes, actually I would. Together?" I was suddenly comfortable with our nudity, much more than I expected. Well, the "good girl" really was gone, now it was the "good wife" that I would try to be. I had read that very good wives showered with their husbands, and sometimes they got dirty in the process. Honestly, I was curious to see his body up close, especially the parts I never saw. Plus we were both messy with my blood. I felt responsible.

This turned out to be a very good move for me.

As I got up there was rather more blood than I expected, on me, on the sheets, and on him. There was a perfectly formed bloody handprint on his side! I had to laugh at it. He joined me. We had slept for a few hours, me because of tension, him because he got up very early. The blood was dry. It embarrassed me, but Sung was indecently pleased. Well, I guess it said he had enjoyed and deflowered a virgin. I guess guys like that.

Me? I had that box of pain that I would have to open. I would do that later. I was only a little bit sore at that moment.

When we got to the hotel, first thing, Bop came to my marriage bed to put down a double sheet with a blanket folded in so as not to bloody the hotel's sheet. My father would display the sheet, to show that he had raised a girl child to a proper entry into marriage. He would be very proud of me, as was his right and my gift for all he had done. Seeing that bloody sheet was when I realized I would be going home with this man, taking care of his house, his food, all the other little tasks. At my father's house those jobs would now fall on Bop. I wanted to go to her, to say words but in my state I could not, because I would babel about the other things a wife did. So instead I took my husband's hand, and we went into the shower together.

The bathroom was brightly lit, but I tried to keep my eyes down and away from his face. Down below a part of him had shrunk, as if to try to hide from my eyes. It had gone from "so large and frightening" to "so small and cute and shy." But for the blood I could have kissed it.

He grabbed the shower cap for me, with my long hair he knew I would not want to get it wet. I had blood on my hand so I had to wash my hand before putting on the cap. Without my asking he turned on the water and waited until I said it was the right temperature. It was a small transaction, one I put aside. Still, how does a man know such a thing? Because he had done it before! Maybe I was not his first virgin. I really knew so little about him. But on the other hand, what I knew so far felt good. Except for the aching pain in my womanly parts.

In the shower I washed him, starting with his cock. It was my blood, so that seemed like the thing to do. I was insistent. Plus, I really wanted to see his parts; I had no little brother and a very modest father so I was curious. Without any pubic hair he was easy to clean, and he spread his legs to make it easier for me. I studied his anatomy with eyes and fingers; the cock, plus the balls and the sack that held them. When he started to stiffen I found that his shaft continued inside the sack to where it met his body in the back, near his anus. I wondered about that. I had to crouch down to investigate, this brought my mouth close to his cock. When I looked up his cock jumped to about 50%, and we both had the same idea. But I was not ready for that. "Please, don't ask me for that now," I said as I stood up.

"Well, as delicious a thought as that is, I am not ready to ask you for that. To be honest, I have very little..."

I did not want to hear him say 'experience' and I guess he felt the same - or he was reading my mind already.

"... very little need. I am not ready to go again. But you are beautiful, tempting, your lips... I want you, so my body reacts. Do you understand?"

"Yes, although I am not sure about your premise. I have never felt beautiful, especially in a shower cap."

"But you are! Did you know a cock cannot lie? They don't know how. Still, if you wish let us put that aside... Now it is my turn to clean you."

I started to object, "It is my blood, my responsibility..." but he stopped me with a kiss, a passionate kiss that was mind-wiping. That seemed unfair.

He whispered, "You are not the only one who desires to explore paradise a little." He had recalled words fro my story! Is there a higher praise? Plus we both knew that I had just explored him.

So I spread my legs, leaned back, and allowed him freedom to look and feel. Yesterday my father would have killed any man who looked at me so. Today? Maybe I encouraged him, who can say?

He snapped the shower's hand unit out of the holder - it was something I had never seen, never imagined. What an idea! It was clear that my view of the world was missing a great deal that many people took for granted.

He was very gentle as he explored the folds of my slit and cleansed me with his gentle fingers using the spray. The skin of his hands was soft, his fingers were strangers to physical work. He had me turn around so he could wash in back, the blood flowed down and I guess there was a lot back there. I did not like that, I was ashamed to be touched there, and to show him my dirt hole. I knew he wanted me there, his fingers lingered after he cleaned me. I was afraid and ashamed and uncomfortable with the thought. But his touches were gentle and with a clear purpose, there was little gratuitous. It did not take long before he turned me around again.

When I next looked down at him, crouching at my crotch, I saw something in his face was different. He was Korean and his face was hard to look at, so I did not twig to his look of great desire before he pressed his mouth to me. Just before contact he said, "you should know, oral sex is a pleasure for giver and getter." Then his mouth touched me there. Lightning fast, his tongue ran the length of my slit, starting in the front, going back to my damaged hole, then returning to the front. I felt outrage and would have objected, my mind marshaled the words. But before I could speak my words his tongue at the front of my slit lashed me with divine pleasure that erased the words from my mind. That astounded me, there was another mind-wipe kiss in a place I never expected to be kissed! I was speechless! Plus, suddenly it was hard to stand, like the room tilted. How could he do so much with his tongue?

That womanly pleasure which I had seen in the distance when he was inside of me? Suddenly it was there, rapidly filling me, grabbing my focus and making me writhe where I stood. I was doubly ashamed, afraid that I would do something terrible, losing control of myself while his mouth was right there. But the pleasure built so quickly that the fear and shame and embarrassment disappeared into a dense fog of pleasure. I was gripped powerless in unimagined pleasure. I thought of my Mother; had she felt like this before she died?

It did not take long, I was helplessly as from a distance while my pleasure built. He took me so quickly! I would say it was only two or three minutes as I rocketed up the heights. I wanted to be kissing him then, I knew it was impossible, but I wanted it, I wanted the connection like we had before. If his mouth was busy, I would kiss his cock while it was close, like that 69 sex act.

Then I thought, what if there was another man? Or if a woman was crouching and I was kissing him? Or if I was kissing the woman? These were all bad wife thoughts, very exciting bad wife thoughts I got from reading nasty porn! Fuck it felt GOOD!

Then his hand came to my poor, insignificant nipple on my pitiful sagging breast. With a soft pinch and an almost cruel twist the pleasure moved me to another realm. The pleasure exploded in me. That is the only word I could use. It shocked me with pleasure it felt so good. When it exploded I moaned so loud I heard the sound echo. I felt myself distinctly reach and surmount a climax driven by his lips and tongue as they pleasured me. I knew that peak of womanly pleasure, or at least a part of it.

I thought in a flash, 'If he was inside of me and kissing me when this happened...' I could not complete the thought because there was another mind-wipe. My emotions forged a further, deeper bond with him, I wanted my pussy to open wide and swallow him up.

I guess my moan surprised him, because his lips released me and he stood up, a look of concern on his face. I know my face proclaimed "happy idiot." When he saw that he relaxed. His fingers caressed my pussy, a gentle contact. A few moments later, when my breathing was closer to normal he kissed me. He did not press himself to me, we stood just touching. Our lips and tongues reached across the space between us. I tasted something on his lips; it took a moment to realize it was my own taste. My pussy taste. I felt I should be upset with that, outraged, but that was my child's pride speaking so I dismissed it. This was my husband, he had the right to take his kisses as he wanted. As I pushed the childish feeling back down I enjoyed the kiss I had desired such a short time ago. My mouth opened wider and I devoured his lips, seasoned as they were with my own very fresh strong taste which my tongue sought out, and gleefully shared with him. I lustfully wanting all of him, so I took what I could.

I had never known such lust before.

When my taste had faded from his lips he drew back and spoke. "I really think a bride should know pleasure on her wedding day. For so many good girls that pleasure is out of reach. You must know I will take my pleasure from your body again, later... I will have no choice, my desire... I will have no choice because you are so good. It might not be as pleasant for you. It may be more than once. But I wanted to make sure you got your due on this day."

I understood. He would take me in my sleep, when I was not ready. That had been a romantic moment in my story, when she dreamed he was taking her and woke to find it was true. She woke when fingers went to a disgusting place in back while he was in her, so that her surprise and pleasure were mixed with outrage. In reaction I covered my butt with my hand. But he was already out of the shower.

When we stepped back into the bedroom I saw the bed was made, I guess Bop heard the shower. Well, maybe she wanted to see something. Then, it occurred to me, that if she heard the shower and came into the bedroom she might have heard my various sounds in the shower.

I bet they confused her.

I had very few things to wear, all hand-me-downs from my mother or the neighbors. Sung picked out something casual and said he was hungry. So was I.

When we stepped out of our suite Bop was there, all bright eyes and happy. She flew to my arms, hugged me tight and whispered, "From dirty story to sacred bride in a few days! I heard... well, it sure sounds like he suits you."

"Thank you for taking care of the bed. I hope it did not embarrass..."

"It was a joy to know he was good to you. A PURE joy. Can I... ah... I kiss him now?"

"Yes, I suppose," I said, expecting her to plant a peck on his cheek. But Bop was really in a mood and she knew far too much.

"Welcome to the family my new big brother." With that she pulled him close (Bop is 5 foot 2 - shorter than me) and planted a kiss on his lips - lips that might have my pussy taste on them! It plainly caught him by surprise. Shameless, she also rubbed her skinny body against him.

Irrepressible Bop continued to bubble. "You know, our men can have more than one wife if they can support them. Also, when my sister's 5 years are up, maybe you will seek somebody younger? Can you say, 'family discount'?"

Well, that was too much. "Bop! Such things to say on this day! Besides, I want you to get an education and have a true love marriage."

"It seems your method has worked out well," she replied smugly. "Or maybe it is the groom that worked out so well. Either way, it seems... lovely?" She turned to my husband. "You know, all sisters want their sister's nicest things." That was a line from our childhood, we often fought over toys, when Mother and Father both worked and we had toys, a lifetime ago.

Sung ended the foolish talk. "I don't see myself as a man of your faith, and we do have an option to renew the contract, or make it permanent. Why would I let go of my treasure even for a night? Bop, you are attractive, but..." he felt his chest dramatically, "... I feel my heart has been claimed."

Bop was visibly quite astounded at that. "One hour married to my innocent sister and a catch like you, a educated man of wealth, is thinking such thoughts? How? Why? What did she... OH!"

She turned to me. "My sister... you must be ashamed of yourself! What did you do? I had no idea you were such a... a..."

"... a catch." My husband finished the sentence for her. "Good genes, good upbringing, character... Yes, a very good catch."

Bop is a good sister, and I love her dearly, but she knows she is smarter than me and more attractive, and all sisters are rivals by nature. Now she was pushing it.

Bop changed course. "Can you imagine two?

Then Sung tossed some gasoline to the flames with his response. "I thought it was a very good hour, for both of us... I think I heard her liking it! Not sure... my ears are still ringing... So two would be too many."

I yelled at both of them. "Stop this talk! She is under age!"

Those were just the words to really get Bop hopping. "Your ears? Could not hear? Why would you... OH!!" She looked at me, stunned, her eyes open very wide. In those wide open eyes I saw unimagined respect, she thought I was blocking his ears with my thighs! Along with an acknowledgement that she had lost this one.

The sudden arrival of Father, the twins, and Cara ended the foolish talk very suddenly. Just in time.

My Father and my Husband stepped into Father's room for a moment, I knew that my bride-price was being paid. The bed sheet was in there, Father would see it. Both men would feel very good at the sight. Numbers were written on a bit of paper. They would shake hands. My Father would feel very good.

Then my husband and I went to dinner. As we left Father called Bop into his room, she was very animated with things to say. This left Cara with the twins, who begged her to show them how the TV worked. She was glad to.

-

Chapter 4.

First Married Dinner Conversation

Where the others ate in the downstairs 'coffee shop' Sung took me to the rooftop dining room. I had never been in a real restaurant, much less one as elegant as this, so as I looked around there were many things to see. He spoke a few words to the man who seated us, then we talked a bit.

His first comment was about my hair down below. "It must go. It need not be immediate, but with your sister here, or my cousin, you might find it more comfortable than a salon in the city where they wax. I assure you, that hurts. You might think about having it removed permanently... there are laser treatments."

"What if I don't want it to go?" I was distracted by the sights - it was my first ever - and it was a natural question for the spoiled teenage girl I had been this morning.

He got very serious in an instant. "Are you asking as a muslim wife? Or as a godless teenager? I had some reasonable expectations..." Well, that pulled me up short. Shaving below was a tradition in our Faith and I was the willful one who was at fault. Childish sloth and pride kept my pubic hair in defiance of tradition. Now I had a husband to guide me with a firmer hand.

I bowed my head low. "Forgive me, I forgot who I was now. Thank you for the consideration and instruction. I will ask Bop to help me. Tonight or tomorrow back at the house perhaps?"

"That would be fine. I would prefer it all gone, but really, if you want to keep some in front, above the slit, I will deal."

"I know what a 'landing strip' 'vee' and a 'arrowhead' are. I like my long silky hair but, if you require..."

He made himself clear, speaking with a lowered but very understandable voice. "I require you to be bare where I will eat you for your pleasure and mine." I shivered with the memory of that hitherto unknown pleasure. "That means everything below the top of your lovely slit must go. If you want to keep some on your mound, that is acceptable... I would prefer it clear cut, but I will not make that an order."

At this point we were served a shrimp salad that was unspeakably wonderful. The servers were in and out in seconds. I asked about ordering and he said it was taken care of, for this conversation he did not want anybody to hover. I felt very adult. It seems my husband wanted to talk about our background. So of course we did.

For me there was not much to tell. Father joined the army and earned many decorations he did not speak of. After his service Father took a job as a dispatcher. Soon he married a younger woman; both families were poor but Father had some of his army pay saved up so Mother's family gave him a choice of three sisters. In defiance of tradition and her family's expectations he picked the youngest, who was the most beautiful and the least mature. Of course, the older sisters he did not pick and the rest of the family hated Father and us. I arrived a year later.

When I was 10 years old my whore of a mother was killed by her boss Tor Luong at a sex party she had arranged where she was the only woman. Tor and the other 6 men had already enjoyed her charms once. For the second round she tied a scarf around her neck and invited the men to pull it tight. "It is better than doing it yourself," she said. Tor was first in line for his second turn and suddenly he went crazy. He became very violent, killing my mother and injured some of the other men. He choked her four times while he was inside of her, three times he let go and brought her back very happy. The last time he was too preoccupied to stop when needed; either that or he ignored her signal.

We heard a video went up on the dark web showing all of it.

The fucking killer disappeared that night after the murder. Tor was a relative of the company owner who was another, less frequent, lover. It seems likely that Tor Luong ran to escape the police and Father. Father was accused of killing, first his wife and then Tor, but no charge was brought as the police had no idea when or how or even if a murder took place. There was no body found, but if Father killed him, there wouldn't be, not unless the cops went into the jungle and checked the right pile of pig shit.