My name is Emily Turner and I'm married. I met my husband Frank when I was in my last year of college. I was 21 years old; he was 26. He was invited to our school to give a lecture about foreign policy. As a Marketing student I didn't have to attend, but it seemed interesting to me and I went anyway.
When the lecture ended, I approached him with a couple of questions that I was too afraid to ask out loud in front of everyone. I didn't know much about the subject and didn't want to look ignorant. We talked for some minutes and he invited me for a coffee if I wanted to keep talking. At the cafeteria we soon changed the topic to more personal things. Frank told me that he worked as an advisor for small companies that wanted to expand their business outside the country, and I told him that I was about to graduate and was already looking for a place to work. When we finish our coffees, he offered to help me with the job hunt and gave me his card. He said he knew plenty of places that would be happy to hire a new but smart marketing graduate.
Over the next couple of months, we met plenty of times. First, he helped me look for a good place to work but, after I graduated and got into one of the companies that he had worked with in the past, we kept meeting. We found out that we both loved reading and that we came from very religious families.
Half a year after we first met, walking down a park he stopped me and asked me if I wanted to be his girlfriend. I had felt really close to him during the previous months, but the proposition took me by surprise. I knew I was not a bad looking woman, but I had always been overlooked by men. I was petite with only 5'3", my hair was a simple brown and I cut it in a short bob, my breasts were 30 A, which was not much and although I was not skinny, I had no curves. To top it all, I never learned to dress much different than how my mother did, and her mother before her. Despite how unexpected it was I accepted in a heartbeat. As I said before, we both had a conservative background and so, during the two years that we dated, we did nothing riskier than holding hands and mildly kissing each other.
On our wedding night I was really nervous. I had a vague idea of what we were supposed to do but no one had given me many details. We slowly took off our clothes and I gasped in surprise when I saw him naked, the first man I had ever seen like that. His penis was something like 3" but it quickly grew to almost 5". I couldn't tell if that was much or not. He seemed as nervous as I was.
I lay down in the bed, my back against the mattress and the pillows and my legs slightly opened. For a second, I wondered if everything was normal down there and whether or not he would like me. All my doubts disappeared when he got on top of me and smiled. We kissed for a while and then I felt the head of his penis pushing down on me, although a little bit higher than he should. I took him in my hand and slowly directed him to my entrance. He pushed really deep and a wave of pain ran through my body. I let out a silent scream and Frank started looking really ashamed.
We didn't try again that night or the night after that one. When we finally tried again, I didn't feel pain. I lay on the bed with his penis inside me while he slowly grinded against my body. It felt tingly down there and kind of good, and I loved to see the face of my husband working on top of me. After a couple of minutes, he closed his eyes and let out a guttural grunt. I felt his penis twitching and then the warmth of his seed.
For the first two or three weeks we did it every night. After a while that changed to doing it every other day. Two months after our wedding I woke up feeling dizzy and had to throw up. A quick visit to the doctor let us know that I was three weeks pregnant. The doctor let us know that we could still make love unless any complication appeared, but Frank said he would feel better if we didn't do it, just to be safe.
Eight months later our daughter Hope was born. She had blond hair like her father and deep black eyes as me. My breast had swollen a little bit into a 30 B, and I got thin because of the lactation. I quit my job and found a part time that allowed me to do some hours from home, that way I could stay and take care of Hope.
We didn't want more than one child, so Frank got a vasectomy. A couple of weeks after the childbirth we started making love again, but our little girl kept us up all the time, so we didn't do it often. As she grew up, we had more time and, for a while, we picked up doing it every weekend. In the end though, we went back to how it was when Hope was a baby, doing it two or three times a month. Out of bed Frank was as kind as always, although as time went by, we slipped into a routine.
