First Love, First Kiss, Forever Bound

Finally Married

With a smile of contentment on my face, I reminisced over how my life had changed. Less than a year ago, a man came into my life who melted the ice in my heart. Six months later, he became my husband. Our wedding day was our first kiss. It was a whirlwind romance, but one that felt undeniably right. The reception was a blur of champagne and forced smiles, but I couldn’t shake the memory of that first kiss, the way his lips tasted like dark chocolate and something wilder, something primal. Several women in the receiving line at our reception remarked how beautiful I looked. So radiant. Happy. I felt no obligation to tell them that perhaps it was because I had given my virginity to my husband twenty minutes earlier. I made an exception for one, a co-worker who had ridiculed me for waiting until I was married. When she started teasing and saying how radiant I looked, I responded with, “Most likely it has something to do with having just climbed off my husband’s cock a few minutes ago.” She dropped her drink. The look on her face was priceless – a mixture of shock, disbelief, and a touch of something else entirely. It was a liberating moment, a declaration of my newfound pleasure, and a silent challenge to those who had doubted me.

Today, our six-month anniversary, my husband was sleeping beside me, his arm draped over my belly and his fingers still in my pussy. I pulled a hand across my breast to wipe off the remaining cum that was drying there. I particularly loved it when he entered me in the missionary position. In addition to hearing his moans change to grunts, I could watch his face. I knew he was close, when his grunting paused, he held his breath, and his eyes glazed over. His attention to me before entering had already brought me close, and as I watched his face reflect the pleasure he was receiving from me, we often came together. It wasn't just physical; there was a deep connection, a shared understanding that transcended words. As he shifted, my breath hitched, and I felt a familiar heat building within me. I knew what he was thinking, what he was craving. The anticipation was exquisite, a delicious torture that heightened every sensation. He leaned down, pressing his lips against my neck, sending shivers down my spine. I arched my back, pulling him closer, desperate for the release that was so close. The world narrowed to just the two of us, lost in the intoxicating rhythm of our bodies. Finally, he began to move, his hands exploring my body with a deliberate, sensual touch. Each stroke, each caress, ignited a fire within me, a burning desire that consumed all thought. His movements became more frantic, more urgent, and I responded in kind, pushing him further, deeper, until there was no room left for resistance. The climax hit me like a tidal wave, a surge of pleasure so intense that it left me breathless and trembling. As we lay there, intertwined, exhausted but euphoric, I realized that this was exactly what I had been searching for. This was the beginning of our happily ever after.

The Dream

The king had chosen her as replacement for his banished queen. Now she sat in her bedroom, submitting to preparation for her wedding night. Her hair, carefully braided in two pigtails, reached her waist, and artfully applied make-up heightened the sparkle in her eyes. A sheer gown barely covered her breasts. After precisely placing a veil on her head, the manservant stepped back and congratulated himself on the completion of his fine work. The room felt heavy with anticipation, the air thick with unspoken desires. She knew the purpose of this night, the ritual she was about to participate in, but there was also a strange sense of excitement, a thrill at being chosen, at being desired. The manservant, a young man with piercing blue eyes and a nervous smile, stepped back and offered her a blindfold. "Are you finished? Won't my husband want my legs shaved? Besides, this skirt is hardly more than a rag!" She accepted the blindfold, her fingers brushing against his as she placed it over her eyes. "I don’t understand," she whispered, her voice barely audible. "My lady, he will not be interested in your legs or anything… down there," the manservant replied, his voice laced with a hint of amusement. "As a boy, during a time of tribal warfare, he sustained injuries that weakened the muscles in his pelvis. He is ashamed of the scars that cover much of his upper thighs and backside. There was additional trauma; he saw his father killed. As a result, he believes he is not able to, how shall I put it? Like the former queen, technically, you will remain a virgin. As you will soon discover, there is nothing wrong with his sex organs. When he has finished, I will return to bathe you and wash your hair." Seeing the questioning look on her face, he continued. "Yes, I’ll be waiting just outside the door." Another pause. "Any questions?" "How is it the king trusts you to be alone with me? Or trusts me, for that matter?" "I was injured at the same time as your husband. My injuries were different and more severe. The king has nothing to fear from me. I am dead down there." "I’m so sorry. I had no idea. I’m sure I have a lot to learn about the royal court." "I suppose so. You are ready. I will leave, and in a few moments, the king will knock once to announce his arrival and enter. He will hand you a blindfold, which you are to wear until he removes it. As I said earlier, he is ashamed of how he looks. His shame has also blinded him to many things; the former queen confided to me that he was indifferent to the needs of his wife." The manservant gently closed the door behind him. The room fell silent, broken only by the sound of her own heartbeat. She waited, her senses heightened, anticipating the arrival of the king and the beginning of this strange, predetermined experience.

The Knock

The king’s bedchamber and her private bedroom shared a common wall and door through which the servant had exited. The king knocked quietly before entering the modest room. A small stove stood against the wall to the right of the door. Her bed snuggled up to the wall on the left, and a small table fought for space between them. A slight warm breeze wafted through the lone window. A second door on the opposite wall led to a courtyard. The king wasted no time in conversation. His eager touch told her that he enjoyed her breasts, and she didn’t resist let him. He felt her up while leading her to a chair next to the table. She turned her head upward to receive a kiss, and his tongue explored hers while his hands grabbed her ass to pull her into him. The king’s erection, obviously impatient, pushed into her. She sat as he continued to fondle her. Parting her legs, he stood between them and began to grind on her bosom while tying a blindfold over her eyes. Then a simple, yet urgent, command shattered the silence. “Take it out.” “As you wish.” She made her first, awkward attempt at blindly exposing his penis, never having touched one before. In time, it became automatic: place a hand on his hip to get her bearings, slide around to the front to find the opening, and pull out the erection. Taking a step away from her, his hands groped at her breasts again and something new, a wet touch on her nipples. The same sensation came to her lips. It was slippery. Then he nestled his manhood in her cleavage and slowly stroked while cupping her breasts. Several times, he knelt to drag his tongue languidly across the nipples and pull on them with a long suck. Deprived of sight by the blindfold, her mind focused on other senses, primarily that of touch. Having never seen one, she tried to imagine the king’s erection lying there between her breasts, feeling it pulse and her own arousal as it rubbed her nipples. She felt the heat of his hands groping at them. She knew he was close, when his grunting paused, he held his breath, and his eyes glazed over. His attention to her before entering had already brought her close, and as she watched his face reflect the pleasure he was receiving from her, we often came together.

She joined her husband in dreamland. The next day, she realized that this dream had been a glimpse into a future filled with pleasure, passion, and a deep connection to a man who was both powerful and vulnerable. She knew that the king, despite his flaws, was capable of great love and tenderness, and she was eager to explore the depths of their shared desires. The memory of his touch, the scent of his skin, lingered in her mind, a constant reminder of the intoxicating experience she had just endured. She couldn’t wait to return to his arms, to lose herself in the embrace of her husband, and to continue their journey together. It was a new life, a new beginning, and she was ready to embrace it with all her heart.

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