First Blush: Honeymoon's Hurt

The salty air of the Caribbean clung to our skin as we stepped out of the taxi, the scent of sunscreen and coconut mingling with the humid heat. Annie and I, fresh off our whirlwind wedding, were still giddy with the excitement of being married, a first for both of us. We’d dreamed of a honeymoon filled with passionate encounters, a slow burn of discovery as we explored each other’s desires. But our hasty wedding night had left Annie sore and hesitant, a gentle reminder of our inexperience, and the idea of “normal missionary intercourse” felt distant, almost foreign.

Our luxurious suite overlooking the turquoise waters of the resort was a haven of plush white linens and panoramic views. We shed our clothes, a silent agreement passing between us – this was a space where we could shed the formality of the wedding and embrace the raw, uninhibited joy of intimacy. Annie, ever the pragmatist, had insisted on getting accustomed to being naked together, a gradual process of mutual exploration that felt both vulnerable and incredibly intimate. I wrapped my arms around her, my erect penis pressing firmly against her midriff, her breasts nestled against my chest. The touch was electric, a primal connection that resonated deep within my core.

We’d heard tales from our friends about their own honeymoon escapades, filled with thrilling encounters and passionate moments. But we clung to the belief that true intimacy lay in the shared vulnerability of our firsts, the unspoken understanding that we were embarking on a journey of discovery, together. The scent of her skin, a subtle blend of floral perfume and something uniquely her, filled my senses, drawing me further into the moment.

As we lay on the enormous bed, lost in a tangle of limbs, we began to kiss, our lips meeting in a tentative exploration. Slowly, I slid down, nuzzling her breasts, the sensitive skin beneath my fingertips sending shivers down my spine. Annie’s hips arched upward, instinctively guiding me lower, her body pliable and responsive. She was more flexible than I’d anticipated, her muscles relaxed and yielding to my touch. Each movement was a first for us, a shared experience that heightened our senses and intensified our desire.

Reaching for her labia, I gently parted them with my tongue, a delicate exploration that felt both thrilling and slightly awkward. My heart pounded in my chest, a frantic rhythm mirroring the growing heat in my body. This was beyond anything I'd ever imagined, a surge of pure, unadulterated lust that threatened to consume me. To my surprise, I found myself utterly captivated by her taste, a subtle musky fragrance that resonated with my deepest desires. A spasm shot through my penis, a powerful wave of arousal that left me breathless. I moved up, my tongue tracing the delicate curve of her clitoris, finding immense pleasure in the anticipation of her inevitable climax.

Annie put her hand down, guiding me as she enjoyed the sensation. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her body arching further upward, pulling me closer. With a final, desperate plea, she climaxed, her entire body convulsing with the force of her orgasm. The intensity of her release sent shivers through me, and, to my own astonishment, I found myself unable to resist the pull, my own body responding with a violent, involuntary spasm. A glob of semen landed on her tummy, a shared moment of surprise and confusion. Neither of us commented on the incident, simply lost in the aftermath of our shared pleasure. We planned to rest for a while before venturing out to explore the island, but before we could even begin, we were jolted awake by the insistent chirping of birds.

Monday.

The morning sun streamed through the sheer curtains, illuminating the white sheets that covered us both. Annie was stirring, her eyes fluttering open as she took in the sight of me, my head tucked under the pillow. Her gaze lingered on my body, appreciating the masculine form beneath the soft cotton. I felt a surge of tenderness, a deep affection for this woman who had become my everything. After a brief, awkward attempt at showering, we decided to embark on a hike to burn off some of our accumulated energy. The trail was challenging, steep in places, pushing us both to our physical limits. As we navigated the rugged terrain, I couldn't help but notice Annie's ample curves, the way her muscles flexed with each step. It was a constant reminder of her beauty, a potent trigger for my own arousal.

We continued on for about an hour, our pace surprisingly quick, before the inevitable tension arose. I overheard snippets of conversation from other couples on the trail, discussing their own honeymoon adventures and the lengths they went to for pleasure. Annie, clearly feeling the pressure, voiced her desire for attention, her words laced with a hint of dissatisfaction. “Nevertheless, a good looking at it would be nice!” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint.

It felt good to return to the suite, shower off the sweat and grime, and strip down to our nakedness once more. We stood before the full-length mirror, admiring our reflections. Annie showcased her ample breasts, flexing her muscles and letting out a satisfied sigh. I gently caressed her nipples, feeling the dampness between her legs, a tangible sign of her arousal. She lay on the bed, inviting me to join her, her body a beacon of sensual invitation. I obliged, pulling her onto the bed and spreading her legs wide, my desire overwhelming. "Are you still too tender? I desperately need to be inside you," I declared, my voice low and insistent.

The day unfolded in a haze of sun-drenched pleasure. After a leisurely breakfast, we spent the afternoon lounging by the pool, soaking up the warmth of the Caribbean sun. Later, we returned to the room, eager to resume our exploration of each other’s bodies. Annie spread out on the bed, her legs extended, inviting me to fulfill my desires. I took my time, savoring every moment, tracing the contours of her body with my hands and tongue. The taste of her, a blend of sweetness and spice, sent shivers down my spine, driving me further into ecstasy. As she climaxed, her entire body convulsed with the force of her orgasm, a powerful wave of pleasure that washed over me.

Over coffee at a nearby cafe, Annie shared her thoughts on the experience, expressing her newfound enjoyment of being touched there. "It feels lots nicer when you are touching me there than when I am fingering myself," she confessed, her voice soft and hesitant. "And it is so lovely being licked." I replied, "Interesting. Maybe that’s why you started squirting cum when I was having an orgasm yesterday. I didn’t know that could happen like that."

Back in our room, we stripped off once again, determined to recapture the magic of the previous night. Annie positioned herself for me, her body relaxed and inviting. I began by exploring her clitoris with my tongue, taking my time to savor every inch of her sensitive skin. As she began to moan, I moved down, licking her labia with increasing intensity. The taste of her, both familiar and utterly new, ignited a fire within me. Soon, she climaxed again, her entire body writhing with pleasure.

As we rested together, I noticed a stiffness spreading through my penis, a sign of my arousal. It was a constant presence, a physical manifestation of my intense desire. Annie, intrigued, began to squeeze my erection, discovering that the stiffness extended all the way back to my legs. She continued to explore, her fingers gently probing the sensitive flesh, until finally, she said, “You are tense. I will give you a relaxing rub.”

The sensation was entirely new, both unnerving and exhilarating. To have someone else touch my penis, a part of me that had been intimately familiar since my earliest days, felt strangely vulnerable and yet incredibly liberating. As she worked on my erection, I could feel her love in her touch, a deep connection that transcended mere physical pleasure. When my stuff squirted up in the air, she laughed, a joyous sound that filled the room. “That was fun, can I do it again. I want to feel what it is like when I aim at my tits,” she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with mischief. I obliged, indulging her desire with a playful grin.

Tuesday.

The third morning found us entangled in the same bed, a comfortable routine having settled between us. I was becoming increasingly accustomed to the presence of Annie, her warmth and sensuality a constant source of comfort and desire. We decided to embark on a run, seeking to burn off some of the excess energy we'd accumulated. Upon our return, sweaty and exhilarated, we stripped to a shower, relishing the feeling of cool water on our skin. As Annie bent over, her firm bum cheeks and moist labia squeezed between her legs caught my attention. A sudden surge of arousal washed over me, leaving me utterly captivated. The desire to mount and breed her felt overwhelming, an irresistible urge that threatened to consume me. Pushing her onto the bed, I spread her legs wide, my voice filled with longing. "Are you still too tender? I desperately need to be inside you," I declared, my gaze unwavering.

The rest, as they say, is history. A testament to the power of shared vulnerability, the beauty of first encounters, and the intoxicating allure of a honeymoon spent in the arms of true love.

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