Aaron lifted me in his arms, demonstrating that he's stronger than he looks. I'm not a small girl.
He carried me up both flights of stairs to my bedroom. He was winded by the time he got there taking away some of the romance. But honestly, I didn't care.
My ass was still on fire and there was a lassitude in my arms and legs that made me wonder if my body wasn't actually going into shock or something.
But he laid me on the bed and pulled his robe over his head and his interest was obvious. His erection was standing straight up as he crawled onto the bed beside me and started covering my face with kisses.
"Say you love me," I said, still crying a little.
"I love you," he said between the kisses on my forehead and my eyelids, on my snot slick lips and my chin.
"Again," I said.
"I love you," he breathed into my ear as he crawled around until his knees were between mine.
"I love you," he whispered as his erection touched where I was beyond "wet," where I was slick, needing, wanting him.
"I love you," he said as he entered me for the first time, consummating our marriage.
And I was cumming again. My fingernails were digging into his back as my own back arched, my heels drumming on his ass as another wave of that purest ecstasy took me.
"I love you," he cried as his rhythm sped up and I felt the sudden tenseness in his body and then the warmth of his semen joining my own nectar running down the crack of my ass as he filled me as only a man can fill a woman.
"I love you," I managed between tears and hiccups and gasps.
I felt him softening and tried to squeeze, to hold him inside of me, but he slipped out with another warm gush.
"Don't be a hog Prez," came a voice and I opened my eyes to see Thomas pulling his own robe over his head.
Thomas was different. As he crawled onto the bed, snuggling where Aaron had just been, his mouth found mine but then immediately sought my nipple. And when he took it, latching on like a hungry baby, I was cumming again.
"I love you," I whispered, stroking his hair as he nursed.
I felt a weight on the bed and Wayne was naked on the other side, taking my other breast. And his fingers were gentle but insistent, finding my clitoral hood and then the little button under it, bringing me another orgasm, this one different, the pleasure a slow flow rather than a quick clenching of muscles.
The night was like that. I would drift in and out of sleep but I was never alone. I had Roger, thick as a damn beer can, in my mouth and when he came I coughed and wound up with semen all over my face making us both laugh as he started kissing me again. I had Wayne, a second time, while Drew was latched onto my breast.
I must have had fifty orgasms, each good, each different, each wonderful. It was getting light out when I finally fell asleep in Roger's arms with Aaron snuggled against my back, his erection making me wonder how long I would sleep.
But I did sleep.
Finally.
And then was awakened with Wayne latched onto my breast as someone, Roger as it turned out, took me from behind and I was cumming again even as I woke.
When Roger slipped out his hands turned me and then it was him on my nipple and Wayne taking me and I was cumming again.
The week was like that.
To an outside observer, it would have looked like a debauch. An orgy. Something, well, something to be ashamed of.
To me, to us I like to think, it was an expression of love. It was a honeymoon rather than a bacchanal although there were certainly shades of Bacchus involved.
Finally, the pace slowed. In part, I think it was satisfaction on the part of the guys. Once they didn't have to spend every waking second wondering if they would get laid their attitude changed. In part, it was just plain old familiarity. Not breeding "contempt," but breeding a level of comfort.
For example, since my "wedding night," I never showered alone. And once the bruises on my ass cleared up, and that took a couple of weeks, that damn paddle had HURT, my ass was fair game and we all knew it.
One night Roger came to my bed. He was big. Easily the biggest man I had ever had. His cock was like a damn Coke can only about a foot long. I took him into my arms and kissed him, enjoying the response I felt.
But he seemed, well, reserved that night.
"What's the matter, baby?" I asked, my fingertips lightly tickling his arm.
He smiled at me and we kissed, softly, like lovers do when they know that they will enjoy each other's bodies.
"Nothing," he said when we broke the kiss and that was a tip-off.
I pushed him onto his back and rolled up onto my side, my head propped on my hand, my elbow crooked onto the pillow.
"No secrets my love," I said, "what is it?"
He actually blushed.
"Becky," he started and then stopped, obviously seeking words.
I waited him out.
"Becky," he began again, "I'm pretty big, you know?"
