Frosty Fries & First Night Fears

The scent of french fries and chocolate Frosty still clung faintly to the air as I pulled the car away from Wendy’s, scanning the traffic flow with a critical eye. The remnants of our impulsive lunch hung heavy in the air, a bizarre juxtaposition to the reality of our new life together. “Mmm. Fries and Frosty,” Stacey murmured, licking the salty residue from her fingers with a satisfied grin. My own smile was strained, laced with a touch of bewildered amusement. “I can’t believe I married you without knowing you had such a weird tendency,” I said, gesturing to the sticky, sugary mess. “Who dips french fries in ice cream?”

“It’s not ice cream – it’s a chocolate Frosty,” she corrected, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “And there’s lots you don’t know about me yet, so you better get used to it.” A playful challenge, but beneath the surface, I sensed a hidden current of anticipation.

I glanced over at her, assessing her appearance. Her casual skirt and blouse, paired with the perfect, fetching braid and light makeup, felt oddly out of place against the backdrop of our new life. Her wedding dress, still packed away in the back seat, felt like a distant memory. I felt overdressed in my tuxedo, a stark reminder of the formality of our vows, now juxtaposed against this messy, unplanned start to our marriage. “I would not have guessed that our first meal as a married couple would be fast food on the way to our reception,” I quipped, gunning the car down the highway ramp.

“I was hungry and you provided, as a good husband should,” she replied, her voice laced with a hint of amusement. Her hand found mine on the steering wheel, a light, warm touch that sent a surprising jolt through my body. My chest tightened, a familiar flutter building in my gut. Butterflies swirled in my stomach, accompanied by a breathless awareness. Oh, how I’d waited for this day.

As we continued down the highway, the feeling intensified. Her hand lingered on my wrist, stroking it absentmindedly, yet the effect was anything but innocent. My cock stirred within my trousers, pressing up and out, a silent testament to the simmering desire that threatened to overwhelm me. My breath hitched, my heart began to race, and my eyelids involuntarily closed. Stay alert.

I tried to focus on the road, pushing back against the rising heat in my chest, but it was an uphill battle. The stroking on my wrist paused, just for a moment, before resuming with renewed intensity. My eyelids flickered, betraying my struggle to maintain control. “What time do we have to be at the reception?” she asked, her voice soft and measured.

“Two o’clock,” I replied, my voice strained. “Hmm.”

“So? You’ll need to get re-dressed and everyone else will already be there since we took so long with the pictures.” Her words hung in the air, a subtle reminder of the time we’d spent lost in our own world, oblivious to the ticking clock.

She tapped lightly with her finger on my arm, a delicate yet insistent gesture that sent shivers down my spine. I nearly groaned out loud, struggling to contain my mounting arousal. “Why don’t we swing past the house and drop off our stuff? We don’t need all the extra bags and we can get everything set for after the reception.” The suggestion felt both comforting and unsettling, a step closer to intimacy, but also a disruption of the carefully constructed facade of composure.

I pondered the idea, trying to ignore the warmth of her hand on mine. “Sounds okay to me,” I finally said, my voice barely a whisper.

As we pulled into the narrow driveway of our new home, a small red brick duplex bathed in the pale winter light, a sense of anticipation settled over me. The house felt strangely familiar, as if it had been waiting for us. We’d walked through with the landlord the day we signed the papers, but the last week had been mostly solitary, filled with the quiet routine of unpacking and organizing.

A card table and chairs in the kitchen, a bed and chest of drawers in the bedroom, towels and soap and shampoo in the bathroom – the essentials of a new life. I started back out the door to get the bags, but she grabbed my hand, pulling me back into the house. “Stay,” she commanded, her voice firm and insistent.

She led me to the couch, snuggling close to me as we sat, her legs drawn up beneath her skirt, her head resting on my shoulder. “I almost can’t believe it – finally,” she whispered, her voice laced with a hint of disbelief. “I’ve waited for you my whole life.”

She turned her head up, her rose pink lips sparkling with a mischievous glint. I bent down, tasting her, parting our lips with a hesitant touch. The taste of her was both familiar and utterly new, a thrilling combination that sent shivers down my spine. My hand ran up her arm, resting on her shoulder, feeling the warmth of her skin against mine. My heart pounded in my chest, and the butterflies continued their frantic dance. My cock stirred once more, straining against the fabric of my pants. My face flushed, a wave of heat spreading across my cheeks.

“I would not have guessed that our first meal as a married couple would be fast food on the way to our reception,” I said, my voice a mixture of amusement and embarrassment. I could no longer deny the truth of my feelings. This was no longer just a casual fling; this was something deeper, something that threatened to consume me.

Her hand slipped down my waist, to my belt, fumbling at the catch. The touch ignited a fire within me, a desperate need to break free from the confines of my clothes. She freed the clasp, then began to pull down my trousers, her fingers brushing against my skin with increasing urgency.

Emboldened, I moved my hand from her shoulder, lowering it to her thigh, rubbing over her inner thigh with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The texture of her skin was smooth and sensitive, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I wondered what it would feel like to possess her entirely, to lose myself in her embrace.

She pulled me closer, her body pressed against mine, her breath warm against my skin. Her gaze flickered over my face, searching for a sign of my arousal. I met her gaze, returning her desire with an intensity that surprised even myself. Her lace corset top covered her torso, a stark contrast to the casual attire she wore earlier. It felt like a deliberate act, a step closer to intimacy.

“What?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

I didn't answer. Instead, I reached out, pulling her blouse open, revealing the curve of her breasts beneath. Her eyes widened slightly, a flicker of surprise in her gaze. Then, she shrugged out of the shirt, the fabric pooling around her hips. Her movements were slow and deliberate, savoring the sensation of her body becoming more exposed. Finally, she stood, her form graceful and alluring.

Her lace corset top remained on, a tantalizing glimpse of her flesh beneath. It was an odd juxtaposition, a symbol of both restraint and desire. I felt a surge of frustration, a primal urge to strip her completely bare.

My nerves went into overdrive, a chaotic mix of excitement and fear. I wanted to touch her, to take her, to lose myself in her embrace, but the ingrained habit of restraint held me back. It was as if a part of me was afraid to fully commit, afraid of losing control.

She seemed to sense my hesitation, her expression softening slightly. Her hand slipped down my waist, to my belt, fumbling at the catch. She freed it, then began to pull down my trousers, her fingers brushing against my skin with increasing urgency.

Emboldened, I moved my hand from her shoulder, lowering it to her thigh, rubbing over her inner thigh with a slow, deliberate rhythm. The texture of her skin was smooth and sensitive, sending a jolt of pleasure through me. I wondered what it would feel like to possess her entirely, to lose myself in her embrace.

She pulled me closer, her body pressed against mine, her breath warm against my skin. Her gaze flickered over my face, searching for a sign of my arousal. I met her gaze, returning her desire with an intensity that surprised even myself. Her lace corset top remained on, a tantalizing glimpse of her flesh beneath. It was an odd juxtaposition, a symbol of both restraint and desire.

As she continued to pull down my pants, I felt a growing sense of panic. The heat was building within me, threatening to erupt into a full-blown explosion. I needed to release this tension, to give in to my instincts. But how could I do that when my mind was still wrestling with the remnants of my past?

Her movements became faster, more insistent. She pulled my leg over her body, straddling her torso, her hands gripping my pants. The sensation was both thrilling and terrifying. My heart pounded in my chest, and my breath came in ragged gasps. I closed my eyes, surrendering to the moment, letting go of all inhibitions.

Finally, she freed my cock from the confines of my underwear, the slippery head springing out into view. It was long and hard, pulsating with anticipation. She grabbed it firmly, pulling it down and inserting it into her mouth. Her tongue swirled around its length, tasting the salty residue of the sweat that coated it. The act was both gentle and forceful, a perfect balance of pleasure and dominance.

Her hand began to stroke my cock, slow and deliberate at first, then increasing in speed and pressure. Each stroke sent a wave of pleasure through me, as if she were trying to awaken something deep within my soul. Simultaneously, her other hand crept up my leg, running up my thigh and over my stomach, before reaching my chest. She massaged my nipples, teasing them with her fingertips, sending shivers down my spine.

I groaned, unable to contain my arousal. Her touch was electric, igniting a fire within me that threatened to consume me entirely. The butterflies in my stomach swirled faster, and my body began to tremble uncontrollably. As she continued her assault, I felt my muscles clench, my breath coming in short, shallow gasps. The release was inevitable, and I welcomed it with open arms.

As my climax approached, I leaned forward, taking my cock from her grasp. It felt like a betrayal, but it was also the only way to regain control. I thrust it into her waiting mouth, letting the pleasure wash over me. She moaned with delight, pulling me closer, her body arching in response to my movements.

The world narrowed to just the two of us, lost in a frenzy of sensation. We continued to thrust, pushing our bodies together, lost in a rhythm of pleasure and release. The heat intensified, burning through my veins, as we reached the peak of our passion. Finally, we slowed, panting and exhausted, our bodies intertwined in a tangled embrace.

In that moment, I realized that my nervousness had vanished, replaced by a sense of profound satisfaction. I had found my wife, and she had found me. And in doing so, we had found ourselves.

Mom sex stories

Frosty Fries & First Night Fears

Did you like this story? Frosty Fries & First Night Fears look, but like these, here Mom sex stories.