First Blush: Honeymoon's Heat (L)

The morning light spilled through the sheer curtains, painting stripes across Annie’s pale skin as she lay tangled in the sheets beside me. Still sore from our run, she shifted slightly, a low groan escaping her lips. Just yesterday, we'd stood before the altar, radiating the innocent glow of newly minted virgins, a stark contrast to the intense heat simmering between us now. The hasty marriage, born from a whirlwind romance, felt less like a commitment and more like a desperate plea for connection, a need fulfilled in a single, awkward encounter. Now, the silence hung heavy, thick with unspoken desires and the lingering scent of anticipation.

The memory of that first night, the frantic energy, the desperate need to mark our union, still burned in my mind. I’d laid her gently on the bed, pushing her legs up, my own body trembling with the raw, primal urge to claim her. My cock, a monstrous extension of my being, had loomed over her, dripping with pre-cum, a silent testament to the potency of our shared lust. Looking into her eyes, I saw not just trust, but a desperate yearning mirroring my own. It was a potent cocktail of vulnerability and strength, a dangerous combination that left me both breathless and exhilarated.

“I don’t think we can,” she murmured, her voice raspy from sleep. “I really wish we could. I want it, too.” Her words hung in the air, a confession that both thrilled and terrified me. Experience had taught me that American girls could be surprisingly assertive, and Annie was no exception. Her strong will was intoxicating, a force to be reckoned with, and I found myself strangely drawn to her defiance. Still, despite feeling the desperate need to take her, I quelled the urge, telling her, “Okay, we’re good. We don’t have to do it.” A lie, of course, but one born out of a desire to prolong the torment, to savor the anticipation.

The reality of our situation gnawed at me. The physical act had been completed, the symbolic gesture performed, yet the hunger remained, a relentless fire burning within my core. The memory of her body, the feel of her skin beneath my hands, the taste of her lips, all fueled my desire. I decided to unleash my pent-up frustration, a playful act of dominance designed to both tease and satisfy. As she began to rise, I launched a swift, accurate slap at her bare bottom. The impact was surprisingly jarring, causing her to stumble forward in surprise. Her breasts bounced with the movement, a blatant display of her body's beauty, and a small, defiant giggle escaped her lips. I savored the moment, relishing her reaction, the vulnerability in her eyes as she glared at me.

“I’ll get you for that!” she spat, her voice laced with anger.

“Into the shower, girl, and I will be joining you!” I declared, my voice dripping with confidence. The suggestion was met with a surge of adrenaline, a renewed sense of urgency. It was time to fulfill my desires, to truly connect with her, to lose myself in the pleasure of her body.

As she turned on the shower, the hot water cascading over her skin, I followed close behind, stripping off my clothes and entering the steamy embrace. She stood beneath the spray, her hands caressing her breasts, her legs apart, her pelvis thrust forward in a silent invitation. Her body was a masterpiece of curves and angles, a testament to her own vitality, and I knew, with absolute certainty, that I couldn’t resist her allure. Her gaze met mine, filled with a mix of apprehension and anticipation, and she said simply, “Take me. I want it. I am all yours.”

My control faltered, the primal instinct taking over. I reached for her, my fingers tracing the contours of her body, before gently lifting her into my arms. As I held her close, the scent of her skin filled my senses, and I felt an overwhelming surge of desire. “Not yet,” I whispered, my voice husky with anticipation. “We need to build anticipation. Not today. Maybe not tomorrow. But we know it will happen.”

The next few hours were a slow, deliberate dance of restraint and torment. I knelt before her, meticulously washing her feet, her legs, her labia, her bum crack, each movement infused with tenderness and a hint of cruelty. I massaged her breasts, delved into her armpits, slid around her neck and ears, and gently scrubbed her face, savoring the feel of her skin beneath my fingertips. As I moved, I felt a connection deepening between us, a shared understanding of our mutual desires.

My passion for her beauty was undeniable, but I also felt a strange sense of calm, as if by taking my time, by prolonging the pleasure, I could make it even more intense. I rinsed her off, then wrapped my arms around her, holding her close as she gave me a rub down. Leaning back, I placed my head behind her legs, feeling the heat of her body against my face. Her response was immediate and powerful, her tits bouncing against my chest, her body arching in pleasure. I took a deep breath, letting the moment wash over me, and answered her invitation, plunging into her waiting body.

As she climaxed, every muscle in her body tensed and writhed, a symphony of pleasure and release. I watched, mesmerized, as her pleasure intensified, her breath coming in ragged gasps. It was a beautiful, visceral display of female power, and I reveled in her dominance. As she shuddered and wept, exhausted and spent, I held her close, savoring the lingering heat of her orgasm.

Later, as we were eating lunch, she asked, "Is it important that we can't fuck yet?" I smiled, a knowing glint in my eyes. “Two and a half days ago we were still virgins. Neither of us knows what it is really like yet. I was hardly in you." She paused, considering my words. Then she asked again, "How do you really feel, my darling?"

“It’s much the same for both of us, I expect. I can’t resist tasting your pussy, my penis is throbbing for it, and my every instinct is crying out to penetrate you.” I thought for a moment, then added, “We are going to remember this, me with an erection all week and us both wanting it inside you. We have learned lots but we never imagined we wouldn’t be having intercourse on our honeymoon. Perhaps we should pray for patience."

“We will,” she agreed, a small smile playing on her lips. “And I feel we have a lot to be thankful for, more than I could possibly have imagined.” Feeling happy, we lay on the bed, kissing and cuddling, lost in the warmth of our shared intimacy. "This is what we were doing before we got married, but with our clothes on," I reminded her.

She giggled, "Real progress, then." "I guess it is kind of funny. Our friends would be laughing if they knew." Moving to lie with my head towards her feet, I put my head between her legs. Her response was to spread them wide, and I traced around her pussy with my fingers. Her hand holding my erection felt wonderful, and she was starting to find her rhythm. This time, I couldn't help moaning with pleasure as I came. She chuckled with delight as she aimed globs at her tits.

“I enjoyed that! I want to do it again.”

“You have to wait a bit, remember. The system has to re-load before you can fire it again.”

“Okay, then. Time for a shower.”

I rolled over to rest, but as she got up, she gave me a resounding slap on the bum. The sound startled both of us. "Ow. What was that for?"

"I owed you from before, smart-ass." And, with that, she marched into the bathroom. Her slap made my bum sting, and my penis stiffened instantly. It was a playful reminder of our dynamic, a silent challenge that left me both amused and aroused. As she returned, I was growing sleepy, but she was sitting near my face with her knees up, her tits resting against my chest, her body radiating a quiet confidence. I knew by now the taste of her clitoris, and couldn't resist licking it. The familiar thrill returned, igniting a new wave of desire. She tried not to cum, to just relax and enjoy it, but I persisted, and she succumbed once more, climaxing with a powerful surge of pleasure.

As she shuddered, her moist labia pressed against my cock, a testament to her arousal. Once again, I felt the overwhelming urge to lose myself in her body, to fully embrace her pleasure. But her tits continued to comfort me, their warmth a soothing balm after the intensity of our encounter.

We lay in silence, our bodies intertwined, lost in a shared sense of contentment. As we drifted off to sleep, I realized that despite the frustration of our delayed gratification, our honeymoon had already exceeded all expectations. It wasn’t just about consummating our marriage; it was about forging a deeper connection, a mutual understanding of our desires, and a shared journey into the unknown. The anticipation, the torment, the slow burn of longing – it had all contributed to an experience that would forever remain etched in our memories. And as I drifted off to sleep, I knew that when the time was right, our love would finally explode in a torrent of passion and pleasure.

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