Honeymoon 15

"Oh, the stateroom is so nice! I can't believe how nice it is to marry into money!"

"Totally! I'm just sitting on the deck drinking a mixed drink. Ed is gambling I guess."

"The wedding night? Ugh... such a nuisance. Would you believe Ed wanted me to give him head? I know, right? I figured I would, one last time you know?" Giggling.

"That's the thing... I've only done it a couple times before, and would you believe he came in my mouth? No warning or anything! Yeah, so gross! He wanted me to swallow and I swear if I wasn't so busy spitting it on the floor I would have spit it in his face!"

"I was really mad. I even threatened not to have sex with him. It was sort of sad, I think he almost wanted to cry. I gave him hell, but a couple hours later I took mercy, and let him eat me out then do it. No doggy style for him, though. I was going to let him do that as a one last time thing, but now I'm not. "

"Ha! I know! He even went and got breakfast. Like he thinks I'm going to do something today. Jeeze. Ed can really be pathetic. I think I'll give him hell for gambling just so I have a reason to be mad so I don't have to let him get on top of me tonight."

"Oh I'll let him have sex with me sometimes. I'm not totally heartless. I just don't like it when he does doggy. He's a little too big for that, you know? Haha... I know. I really think Mike is hotter anyway. That's the only problem with this honeymoon. I mean, cruises are great, but I'll miss Mike."

"Shut up, ok? I know you don't approve, but doing him in the coatroom was so hot, especially since I knew Ed was stuck with his awful parents."

"Ok, look, if you're going to be like that, I'm going to go get my massage. I'll Facebook everything, ok? Love you too! Smooches!"

***

That's funny... is her masseuse the guy that was on the deck chair outside? But she's so relaxed.

***

So. The honeymoon is over. Thank God. That was one of the worst experiences of my life. I had no idea what was happening, that first day. To be honest, I'm still not too sure. But it must have been that first day that it happened. I think it was the massage. I don't remember it at all, and I'm pretty sure the the masseuse had overheard my conversation where I was being catty. Come to think of it, he wasn't dressed in a normal ship's uniform.

That first day... when I got back from the massage, I got in the shower. When I got out, before I got dressed, Ed wandered in with his clothes smelling like stale smoke from the casino but a bunch of flowers in his hand and that sad-puppy-dog look on his face. Of course I didn't fawn or even smile, but just smirked.

"Oh, I guess you're trying to make nice, huh?"

"I just wanted to do something nice for you..." he whined.

It made me want to slap him. I decided to complain about his gambling so I could avoid sex for a couple days at the same time he tried to move in for a kiss. To my surprise, I kissed him back and responded when he put his arms around me.

"Do you want to... you know, do it?" he said, sounding like even he was surprised he was brave enough to ask.

"Ok! Sure!" And just like that, I jumped up on the bed... on all fours with my ass pointed towards him! I couldn't have been more shocked. I didn't like doggy style, and didn't plan to do it again. It was degrading, and didn't like the thought of a guy looking down my backside like that. That was the first but not the rudest shock I'd get from my own behavior this trip.

"Really?! Ok!" and he stripped out of his clothes as fast as he could, his gaze on my backside. I found myself looking back over his shoulder the whole time wiggling my ass and with a fixed smile on my face. Needless to say that's not how I felt. Inside, I was terrified. There was something very, very wrong with me. I'd never act like this. I was also furious, at Ed, and felt sure he'd done this. That he had some sort of power over me. But the fake plastic smile and the ridiculous wiggling of my hips wouldn't stop.

"Wow, baby! You're the best!" He'd finally disrobed, well, he left his socks on. Men look so stupid when they do that. His member as usual looked alarmingly large. He wasn't gigantic, just well over average, but very thick. He hopped up on the bed, knelt behind me, and rubbed his penis along my slit. Amazingly, I was wet. He rubbed it a couple times and positioned it to put it in me. That's when the worst part happened.

"No, Ed! Stop! I want it in my ass!" What?!? What had I just said? I'd never do that, never! It was gross, and I was sure it would hurt. Especially with Ed. He was a little too large for me to take in the usual way.

"Wha- Really? I don't know..." He seemed genuinely shocked, and for a moment I actually felt some warmth for the guy. Maybe I'd get out of this intact after all.

"Yes, really! Don't you want to, husband?" My smile went from plastic to wanton. Uh oh... this wasn't going well. Why was I doing this?!

"Well, I don't know... you never seemed like you'd want to try it."

"I'm your wife! Don't you think you should get to try it with me?" Good Lord, what was she doing? She was actually trying to convince him! And she was trying hard! She was blushing from shame and anger, but he seemed to take that as excitement.

"Well... ok. I'll go slow, though, ok? And you tell me if it hurts?" He was really excited now, and had already started rubbing her asshole with his rod.

"Don't worry! It won't hurt!" Huh! That can't possibly be true. This was getting worse and worse.

"No, really. Tell me if it hurts, ok? If not I won't do it." He seemed really serious. Again, she felt a little bit grateful to him. Not like it seemed like it would work.

"Ok, fine. But if so, you have to promise you'll go harder if I want. Deal?" And she shook her hips and pushed back towards him. She felt her face form a naughty smirk. This didn't seem good. This seemed really, really bad.

"Deal!" And that was it. He started pushing into her tight hole, and she felt herself grinding back into it even as the pain started. That answers her last question... yep, it was going to hurt.

"Get it in there! It feels great!" It did not feel great. She felt a burning start, then a wrenching pain as his head worked its way into her rear hole. She wanted to throw herself forward off of him and clench her ass against the pain, but her traitor hips worked her down on him, making the burning turn into a white hot pain and a sickening fullness as he sunk into her.

"That's it! Yeah! I love it!" Ow ow ow! Ugh!

"Push it all the way in! Hard!" He followed her involuntary instructions by grabbing her hips and pushing his hips into her, and the pain would have taken her breath away, but apparently, that wasn't allowed. She just gave one of her best approaching-a-fake-orgasm moans.

"Oh God!" He seemed to like it, anyway.

"Now fuck me! Fuck me hard!"

"Are you sure it doesn't hurt?" Yes! Fuck yes it hurts! She wanted to yell.

"No, it's great! I love it! Fuck your wife's ass hard!" She'd thought that first thrust was bad, but when he started to actually fuck her, her head swam. But her attempts at pained grunting turned into more fake moans. He seemed to be trying to be somewhat gentle, but whatever was controlling her wasn't having any of it.

"Harder! Fuck my ass hard!"

I guess he didn't need anymore convincing. He really went at it, pounding my asshole for all he was worth, and my body did everything it could to encourage him, while I was locked inside wanting to scream and cry. I guess he didn't last too long, but it sure felt like long enough. The most humiliating part was when he came in my ass, I faked an orgasm. A really good one. I was blushing with that as much as from the pain when we collapsed.

The conversation afterwards when he'd recovered from his orgasm and me from the pain was weird. Really weird and frustrating. I couldn't say anything or do anything to complain about what he'd done at all, but otherwise I seemed free. I didn't have to cuddle with him but I couldn't act mad or say I was in pain, and even told him I'd liked it. Finally I felt good enough to shower, then I hurried up and got dressed and told him I'd go get a drink. He wanted to go with, but I just dismissed him and left. Oddly I felt... Something. A little like guilt, or foreboding. Something. But I ducked out the door anyway and found a booth in a bar to get a drink and think.

A soft booth. Not having any experience with anal sex before, I had no idea how sore I'd be after. Ow. I sat for a while uncomfortably and stewed. After I'd calmed down though, I realized I didn't think Ed had anything to do with whatever happened or even knew about it. He really hadn't wanted to hurt her, and wouldn't have if I hadn't, for some reason, asked him to and egged him on. Actually, it was sort of reassuring that he wouldn't hurt her if he knew he was hurting her.

That made the problem all the more frustrating. It's me. Somehow it's me. I'm the problem. I'd actually asked him to do what he did. Even when he was reluctant, I'd spurred him on. What the fuck is wrong with me? I just wanted a normal marriage. All I knew is I wouldn't be facing this again. This was some kind of game, and I'm good at games. I'll figure this out, and I'll win the game.

* * *

OK, that didn't work. The rest of the honeymoon was terrible. I kept fighting to figure out the rules, and I kept begging him to fuck my ass. It was two or three times a day. My asshole constantly hurt, and I actually took to buying enema kits every day because I was worried about how much my ass had stretched. I did learn some things.

First, it seemed like I had complete free will, except for the ass fucking part. The only things I couldn't do were related to that. If my new husband wanted to have sex, I would happily agree. I would immediately agree if he wanted to have sex and present my ass to him. It didn't take long before he thought I always wanted it in the ass. He even tried to have sex in the normal way. I wouldn't let him. I convinced him I wanted it in my ass.

Second, I realized that while it gets better after a while, when it's always rough anal sex it really always hurts. I don't know why I had to beg him to make it so rough.

Third, I kept feeling that dread or guilt feeling. I don't know why. It wasn't exactly guilt, I mean I didn't really feel bad about it, and it wasn't exactly dread, since I didn't know what it meant. But it was weird. And I have to admit, I wasn't pleasant company. Other than not discouraging him from fucking my ass (BTW, he had gotten pretty vulgar about it, and my I-have-no-choice-but-to-be-fucked-up-the-ass self was all about it, but I didn't like that one bit) I was pretty nasty to him. I even tried to avoid him, but it seemed I needed to go back to our bed at night. And the longer I avoided him the more I felt that guilt feeling.

So, yeah. The honeymoon was the worst thing ever. I'm walking out of the last airport terminal, and really, really hopeful this nightmare is over and I can start the married life I've always wanted. I really miss Mike too.

* * *

It's three months later. I have two things to say.

Ouch. And,

Thank God I have some idea what's happening.

I guess I should explain. The first should be obvious. The assfucking did not stop, and in fact, got worse for a while. EVERY FUCKING TIME my husband wanted to have sex, I'd hop on the bed, or on the ground, or over one of the ornate bar stools in our very nice home, and ask him to fuck my ass. And beg for it really hard. And suffer, while the whole time I pretended to love it. And there was nothing I could do about it. Ow, ow, ow. I didn't walk right for weeks, and I could tell his friends knew. OK, I have to give him some credit. I don't think he told them anything more than I really liked sex. They never made butt sex comments or anything. And I had to laugh and go along with it, so they wouldn't realize what was really going on. So yeah. That was just awesome. Ugh.

What was going on... you remember that guilt/dread feeling? Yeah. So I have sort of learned what that is. It's some sort of... I guess weight. I mean, the weight that's applied to the scales when you're judged or something. I know that seems melodramatic. But that's how it seems to me now. I've learned that if I reduce the amount I feel that, I don't have to beg so much to be fucked hard, up the ass of course, or even, sometimes (and I don't know why), I can ask him to be gentle.

I have to say. I know he's not involved in this. He obeys me when I beg to be pounded hard, but he never tries more than he thinks I want. Don't get me wrong, he loves this new dirty wife thing. But he's puzzled and hurt when I'm a jerk, and he always expresses concern when I seem uncomfortable afterwards, even when I can't say anything. He really is worried about me. Actually, one time made me really realize it.

I met Mike after we got back from the cruise. Yeah, yeah. I'm a total asshole. I just kind of wanted... well, ok. I wanted the person I cared about rather than the person I married. That's a bitch thing to say, I know. And really it was a bitch thing to do. I had boring, normal sex with him. And I didn't come. I always came with Mike. I couldn't. It was like he was fucking my ear, or tits, or something. And not in a good way. Just, it didn't feel good. And then after, after he'd used me, I felt a crushing wave of that guilt-but-not-quite-guilt feeling.

And then after that, Ed hadn't even asked me for sex. I jumped him. And my body and mouth begged him for the most brutal pounding my ass has ever experienced. It hurt. And you know what? I'm not sure if it was a part of what was happening to me, but I did feel bad. I mean not so that I deserved it, but really, Ed had always been a perfect gentleman. I really wasn't nice to him. And after that, after I'd begged him, pleaded with him, to hurt me as much as he could, he was so nice. He asked me if there was anything he could do for me, he pulled me into the shower and washed me, he tucked me in. He slept with me and held me all night, and when I woke up in the morning, he brought me breakfast.

I don't understand everything. For example, I've started to give him blowjobs. I do that because that guilt-feeling happens if I don't. But at the end, I feel that guilt-feeling anyway. But in the last almost hundred days, I've learned that if I give him the blowjobs, I don't have to beg him so much for him to fuck me harder.

And, oh God, when is the next time I get fucked in my pussy? Ed practically begs, but for some reason I'm not allowed. And when Mike did it, it felt like nothing. I haven't had an orgasm in months.

* * *

It's six months in, and I have news! Apparently, I'm allowed to be fucked in my pussy. I don't know why or how, but I have guesses. Get to that in a minute.

I've figured out some of the rules. I'm supposed to be nice to Ed. Actually, while I'm not supposed to be a complete bitch, I can disagree or even be obnoxious. I'm just not allowed to be mean or manipulative. I also have to agree with what he wants sexually. That part is actually better than I would have thought.

Let me digress for a moment. A lot of guys, encountering a girl who by all appearances is an ass whore (I hate to say it, but I've said it a lot recently), would push it. Would see how far they could take it. Not my Ed. He's been very gentle, very kind. Ok, he's fucked my ass a lot too. But I asked him for that. He wants me to be happy so much. When I begged him for the worst he could do, he did it, but when I acted crazy afterwards, he wanted to know. He actually started to go down on me. I didn't want him to at first, because I couldn't come. But he insisted, and after a couple awkward nights (he persisted, God bless him) I came. And it was glorious. All I'm saying is, he tried. He knew something was wrong, even though he had no idea. And it worked. It didn't save me from the anal stuff, but it gave me release.

So when I say I have to do what Ed wants sexually, that part is pretty good. Very good. If he insists, I'm allowed to let him fuck me the normal way. And you know what? I always come. He's still really big, and it still hurts I guess, but after all the butt stuff, that doesn't really seem to matter. Yeah, doing what he wants isn't that bad.

So about being fucked in the pussy. I guess I'm allowed. If Ed really wants it, sometimes I can. I don't really understand that. It was a month in before I'd let him do that. If he really wants it, that helps. And it has something to do with that guilt thing. I started sucking him every morning about a month in. It made me feel better. But then at the end I'd feel bad. The guilt thing again. Then I figured it out. I was supposed to swallow. Then it was all better. I suck him, good. I swallow, even better. Suddenly, sometimes, I could ask him to fuck my pussy.

That is so good. I love that. He always makes me come.

* * *

It's the night of my first anniversary. I think I have most of it figured out. I was so stupid and shallow when it all happened. All I really have to do is please my husband. There are a few things that are required. I have to have sex when he wants. The truth is, he makes me come. I'm not sure why I ever didn't want him to. I have to swallow. OK... that one took a little more effort. Still, not a big thing, and he loves it. If he wants me to do something sexual, I have to do it. That one isn't hard. Mostly. he wants to make me happy. And even when he wants something weird, it's no where near as weird as begging to be fucked up the ass when you don't want it. And I'm not allowed to be a bitch to him or manipulate him with sex. I mean, I'm still allowed to complain or whatever. I'm just not allowed to be manipulative or mean to get my way, or I pay with my ass. Literally.

We're going out for dinner tonight. I'm wearing what I know he'd like, and I'll be nice to him up to the end. Because my Ed, he's always been there for me. But at the end I'm going to be the most manipulative bitch I can just so I have to pay for it.

Happy anniversary, Ed. I mean it. I love you.