Threshold Tremors

As I carried my new bride over the threshold, her body and lips trembled against mine. The scent of honeysuckle and lavender clung to her, a fragile perfume clinging to the damp stone of our new home. The rain hammered against the windows, mirroring the frantic beat of my heart.

“I’m scared,” Tammi whispered, her voice a breathless plea lost in the storm’s fury. Her dark hair spilled across the worn rug, clinging to her pale skin like a desperate embrace. Her eyes, wide and luminous, held a mixture of fear and an undeniable, primal excitement.

“So am I,” I replied, my own voice a low rumble against her ear. I pressed a gentle kiss to her soft, full lips, lingering over the delicate curve of her mouth. Then, I lowered my head, tracing the line of her jaw, down her neck, to the sensitive hollow of her throat. Her body arched slightly beneath my touch, a silent invitation that sent shivers down my spine.

Tammi moaned, a small, involuntary sound that vibrated through my chest. Her hand, hesitant at first, reached out and grasped the back of my head, holding me tight to her neck, the most delicate and sensitive part of her body. As I continued nibbling and kissing, her legs began to tremble, a subtle shift in her weight that signaled her mounting arousal. Her breathing quickened, shallow and rapid, mirroring the frantic pace of my own thoughts. The air hung thick with anticipation, charged with the electricity of our first encounter.

I paused, pulling back slightly, and our eyes locked. Hers were filled with love and apprehension, a potent combination that both thrilled and intimidated me. The rain continued its relentless assault on the windows, a constant reminder of the world outside, a world that suddenly felt distant and irrelevant.

“Turn around,” I instructed, my voice low and deliberate. It was a simple command, yet it held the weight of our shared desire, our mutual surrender to the unknown.

She obeyed instantly, pulling her long, raven hair off her back as I leaned down, kissing her nape and shoulders. My hands, clumsy with nervousness, left her waist and started unfastening the numerous buttons of her mermaid wedding dress, a confection of ivory silk and lace that now seemed utterly inappropriate for the occasion. I traced her spine with my fingertips, feeling the smooth, cool curve of her bones beneath the fabric, until it disappeared into the white gossamer folds at her hips. Then, with a decisive movement, I turned her around, and when our eyes met again, she crossed her arms across her chest and pushed the straps down, displaying her beautiful breasts to me for the first time. Naked, they seemed larger than they ever had under her clothes, a shocking contrast to the modesty of her attire.

Tenderly, I reached out to caress her face, my fingertips tracing the delicate line of her cheekbones, the curve of her lips. She, in turn, leaned into my touch, pressing her hand against my palm while maintaining her gaze, a silent request for more. Neither of us had ever had sex, only experiencing brief, self-pleasing moments, and never with porn. But our actions, though tentative and uninformed, were directed by our heavenly Father and instinct, a primal connection that transcended any previous experience.

I let my hand trail down, and the other joined it to cup her breasts, feeling the warmth of her skin beneath my fingertips. Tammi moaned softly, her body succumbing to my touch, and she fell into my arms, her weight a welcome comfort. We had left our parents behind, seeking solace and fulfillment in each other’s arms, a decision driven by a shared yearning for something more. And once we had united, we were determined that no one would break us apart, bound together by a love that felt both ancient and entirely new.

Tammi’s hands covered mine as they squeezed her breasts, and I recited the words I’d memorized for this moment from Song of Songs, Chapter 7:

“How beautiful you are and how pleasing, my love, with your delights! Your stature is like that of the palm, and your breasts like clusters of fruit. I said, ‘I will climb the palm tree; I will take hold of its fruit.’ May your breasts be like clusters of grapes on the vine, the fragrance of your breath like apples, and your mouth like the best wine.”

Tonight, we would submit to one another out of reverence for Christ, a symbolic gesture that felt both sacred and intensely physical.

Tammi stepped back from me, wiggling slightly as she pushed her dress down over the swell of her pear-shaped hips and butt, revealing the full curve of her form. She was a pure vision of beauty, a goddess emerging from the storm, and my gaze couldn't help but linger on her every curve. I removed my jacket, the soft wool feeling suddenly inappropriate against her skin, and Tammi came close again, unbuttoning my shirt, pushing it off my body, and running her hands lightly over my toned chest and abs. Then she grabbed my belt and looked up as she unfastened it, my pants falling to the floor. My penis already tented my boxers straight out against her belly.

Looking down, Tammi gasped, and when she looked back up, the apprehension filled her face again. I pushed my boxers off, then took her hand and curled her fingers around my penis. We both moaned, a shared expression of pure anticipation. Tammi looked down to see how my member filled her palm, and I moved her hand back and forth on my shaft, teasing her with the promise of pleasure. Then, I let go and let her experience the power she had over me on her own, savoring the delicious tension of her control. But this first touch of her hand was almost too much, so I soon grabbed her hand to avoid cumming all over her, keeping her on the edge of ecstasy.

“Did I do something wrong?” she whispered, her voice laced with vulnerability.

“No, no,” I reassured her, pulling her closer. “It’s just… if you keep doing that so good, I’m going to cum all over you.”

“But I want you to take all your pleasure in me! Nothing will bring me greater pleasure than to feel and know your pleasure.”

Tammi lay down on the bed, spreading her legs wide, and her smooth, puffy pussy glistened as with dew, a testament to her arousal. Her inner lips opened like a beautiful flower, inviting me closer. She held her arms out, welcoming me into her embrace, and wrapped them around me when I joined her, her body a perfect fit against mine.

“Take me, make me your woman, your wife,” Tammi’s words tickled my ear as I slowly pushed into her pussy. It wasn’t easy. She moaned as I stretched her pussy; she was so tight that I wondered if I’d fit at all. When I reached her barrier, she screamed and pulled my head down to her neck. I knew I’d hurt her; I hated that I’d hurt her, but nothing could prevent it.

“Take me,” she kissed me hard as I thrust down into her sex, opening her. Her scream echoed in the room as I lay down on top of her, my penis entirely inside. Her legs and arms squeezed around me, pressing me even harder into her, and she shook, her body trembling with pleasure.

This new tightness around me was more than my inexperience could bear. I groaned, my penis jumping, and cum shot out in long, hard streams deep into her sex. We both cried, and I felt her body quivering under mine.

When I rolled off her, she lay her head on my chest, and I stroked her arm and side until she drifted off to sleep, her breathing slow and rhythmic. I lay there a while longer, thanking the Lord for the blessing of my wife and our shared experience, looking forward to waking up to her naked beside me. The rain continued to fall, but now it sounded like a lullaby, a gentle soundtrack to our perfect beginning.

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