My name is Barbara. My mildly religious upbringing taught me that a woman should be herself but always be submissive to her husband. My Dad treated Mom like a queen and, while she was very independent and free with her opinions, whatever Dad decided or wanted is what was done. Mom instilled in me the virtue and benefit of being beholden to a husband. I was also taught that sex is a wondrous thing but only between man and wife. A husband and his wife should do anything they please, especially if it was what the husband wants. But until marriage there should be no sex beyond kissing, dancing or holding hands.
This was how I lived my life through my dating years of high school and beyond, and it worked well. I found that the boys I dated were much more pleased when they were in charge and treated me better than when they weren't. Fighting off sex was a bit of a struggle... probably triggered by my 36C breasts – very prominent for my #4 dress size. All the boys tried hard to play with them and to get in my pants, but in the end they respected me in a way for not allowing it. I did struggle with my own sexual urges looking at their hard bodies, tight butts, and wondering what it was exactly they had in their pants. Though that was alleviated after a friend taught me about fingering myself and playing with my clitoris to achieve that stupendous feeling of getting off.
I first dated my future husband, Ken (please, no Ken and Barbie jokes), when I was 21. My relations with men still rang true with Ken. Ken was a great hunk and partner and, though he was demanding, which didn't go against my submissive bent, I decided he was the one. When I was 22 and Ken was 24 we got engaged. We slotted our wedding exactly one year after our engagement. During that year I'll have to admit that I fudged a little on the sex thing. I let Ken take my virginity one month in and we had intercourse a half-dozen times. Ken was a lot more experienced and taught me almost everything I now know about sex. He knew how to pleasure a girl and I discovered that while rubbing my clitoris was great, it paled against a large penis in my vagina. He also taught me that, in line with the obedience thing, a girl's primary role is to make sure her man is happy. I agreed with that and our marriage began with me being enthusiastic for sex and wanting to please Ken.
It didn't take long for my subordination to morph into subservience – starting on our honeymoon. After our vows we flew to a resort, checked into a hotel and planned for a celebratory dinner. As we were getting ready, Ken told me exactly what to wear... not asked, told... and not suggestions, but exactly – what clothes, their precise color, what makeup, how to do my hair, etc. "But before you put your fresh clothes on I want to have our first married fuck," he interrupted.
"Did you say 'fuck'? I asked, a little puzzled.
"You've never heard that word?" he asked quizzically.
"Of course I have. I just never used it in common talk," I replied.
He answered, "Yeah. 'Fuck' is the common word for what we do and 'fuck' is the word we will use. Now get the rest of your clothes off and get up on the bed. I want to fuck fuck fuck you real bad."
I did as he asked. I cared little of small things like word usage when Ken was about to put his penis in my vagina, and I told him so. He told me to remove his pants and underpants. I let out an Oooooo when his penis popped out. As he approached my spread legs he said, "Let's use the rest of the correct words from now on, Sweetie. It's not 'penis.' It's cock, prick, dick, schlong, or pecker... or when it's expanded, boner or hard-on. It's not 'vagina.' It's pussy, cunt, twat, muff, snatch, poon tang, or beaver. Now raise your pussy so I can slip my cock in it and fuck my lovely wife's brains out."
Without fanfare he rammed his peni.... Oops... cock in my pussy. It felt great. I cooed, "Ooooo! This feels good. As long as we do it I'll call it anything you want." "My pleasure," he answered, and banged me like there was no tomorrow until I felt him tighten and deposit his load deep in my pussy.
After I got dressed I greeted him in the sitting room of our suite. We kissed. Abruptly he harshly told me that I had on the wrong blouse. "When I say beige, I mean beige, not light tan, not cream-colored, but beige. Now god damn it go do what your husband said put on the correct blouse."
"But I thought beige would go better with my skirt," I protested.
He replied in a much softer voice, "I know, babe. And it's O.K. to think that and suggest it. But when I tell you it's beige, then you will put on beige."
"Well, you don't have to curse at me," I further protested.
He retorted, "I know, hon. Nothing personal. Just thought it would clear up any doubt over who's the boss."
We had a pleasant dinner, eating and also cooing at each other as newlyweds. We returned early and re-consummated our marriage by fucking again. For the first time we did it twice in one evening (thrice if you count the afternoon) one about two hours after the first. Both times we both had massive orgasms. "This is going to be great," I thought to myself. The next day we lolled around the pool and again got ready for dinner. I dressed exactly as Ken dictated, including for the first time not wearing a bra. During dinner he told me to unbutton three buttons..., "in case I get an opportunity to show you off." Back in our room I was expecting more lovemaking. Instead he said, "Before we fuck there's some stuff I need to teach you."
