My First Time

Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 3

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Saving Ourselves For Marriage: Part 3
More Valentines Days.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Connected.



The guilt provoked by Mr. Jacobs' observation was fleeting,

and Emily texted me 3 days later, "Can we have another Valentine's Day
tonight?"

It was clear that the charade was over, and 'Valentine's

Day' was her chosen euphemism for spending less-than-wholesome time together.
Our relationship had become a dichotomy of two very different and
compartmentalized romances. One of a pure and honorable public courtship, and
the other of two young lovers clandestinely exploring physical passions.

"Yes, 7?"

"See you then."

This time I locked the side door while we were closing the

store, then unlocked it for Emily after Mr. Jacobs left.

I thought about our new paradigm while sautéing some chicken

then slicing it over the top of two Caesar salads. We were no longer pretending
that our physical explorations were isolated happenstantial occurrences. The
primary purpose of the night was clear, and I decided I might as well plan for
it.

An erection was imminent, and I decided to change clothes

rather than risk being painfully bound-up in my jeans again. I rummaged through
drawers and hanging clothes, carefully considering the functional benefits of
each piece while also not wanting to appear too overtly presumptuous.
Ultimately, I decided on a pair of loose-fitting linen pants, and a nice
front-pocket t-shirt.

I think Emily had the same idea. She arrived wearing a

well-coordinated athletic outfit that was very fashionable, but very out of
character for her. She wore white running shoes with low-cut ankle socks, a
well-fitted white Lululemon zip-down hoodie, and baby-blue Lululemon yoga
leggings that ended a few inches above her ankles.

I had seen Emily in a variety of very attractive dresses and

skirts, but nothing that revealed the shape of her body like those leggings.
They fit like a second skin and clearly showed every soft curve of her legs and
butt. The sight was incredibly sexy, and I stared unabashedly as she hung up
her winter coat and came to greet me in the kitchen.

We met in an all-consuming embrace and I lifted her into my

arms. She added support by wrapping her legs around my hips and we began
hungrily kissing, tongues eagerly intertwining.

I was not interested at all in the salads sitting on the

counter and carried Emily over to the sofa. Her legs loosened their grip on me
and, with our mouths still joined, I bent forward to place her on the floor.
She guided me backward into a slouched seating position and climbed over me to
sit straddled over my left thigh, in the same way we had a few days ago.

As each second passed, our desires grew and inhibitions

loosened. In the midst of our urgent kissing, Emily began slowly and deliberately
rocking her pelvis on my leg, and my hands boldly slid over her hips to
encourage their motions.

The erotic scenario brought physical sensations on a level

that I had never experienced before. I could feel my erection obscenely tenting
the thin fabric of my pants, and my balls hanging heavily between my legs. Both
were hyper-sensitive to every subtle movement, and my completely engorged cock
throbbed with every beat of my pulse.

I loved feeling the motions of Emily's hips in my hands but

yearned for more direct contact than I could have through the thick cloth of
her hoodie. My large hands clumsily attempted to slide under the snuggly
stretched tails without success.

Sensing my intentions, Emily pulled away from our kissing

and maintained eye contact while she sat upright on my thigh. Without a spoken
word, she unzipped and discarded the hoodie to reveal a thin, strappy sports
bra matching the baby-blue color of her leggings.

Her eyes watched mine as they surveyed the amazing sight

before me. The bra concealed two compressed mounds that appeared proportionate
in size to her very petite frame, with subtle curves of cleavage extending
above its swooping neckline. My eyes soaked in her feminine form above and
below the bra, absorbing the softly toned body and flawless flushed skin
revealed to me for the very first time.

She watched as I admired her in amazement, "You are so

beautiful."

Without saying anything, she laid herself back on top of me

and our mouths passionately met again. My hands went to her hips, feeling every
curve through the thin fabric leggings and directing her to resume rocking on
my leg.

She did, and her motions quickly evolved from rocking into a

firm rhythmic grinding. Shortly thereafter, our kissing stopped and we pressed
our foreheads together, both breathing heavily with mouths inches apart.

I could feel heat building on my thigh, emanating from both

her legging covered folds and the friction of her intensifying pressure. Our
eyes locked, Emily placed her hands on my chest and pushed her torso upright to
adjust the angle of her grinding. She continued supporting herself on my chest
while my hands slid up the sides of her thin waist and intuitively palmed her
bra covered breasts, kneading them the best I could through the restrictive fabric.

Emily intensified her grinding and the combined stimulation

sent her to a new level, eyes rolling backward and body tremoring while she
lost control. One hand still supported herself on my chest, but the other
unconsciously dropped downward and grasped my fabric covered cock.

The mere touch of her hand triggered my own reaction,

tightening my balls and soaking my linen pants with copious surges of cum. I
looked down in horror to see the messy results of my eruption, but also saw a
large darkening blue circle in the crotch of Emily's leggings.

I looked upward from the sights and smells of our

fornication and met Emily's eyes. We silently stared at each other for several
minutes, telepathically sharing a complex and confusing mix of lust, shock, and
guilt.

Eventually, Emily dismounted my leg and did her best to make

herself presentable before leaving. We said goodbye with a timid hug, uneaten
salads still on the kitchen counter.

Guilt.

We both knew we crossed a sinful line that night, and I

think we were both scared. It wasn't sex in the traditional sense of the word,
and we were technically both still virgins, but our actions were clearly
outside the acceptable boundaries of Biblical purity and integrity. I know I
was scared for several reasons but, most of all, scared that our relationship
may have been permanently damaged. I wasn't the spiritual leader she wanted me
to be, and I wasn't strong enough to maintain her purity.

Over the next 12 hours, I vacillated between wanting to

address the issue head-on and wanting to bury my head in the sand to ignore it.
Around noon the next day, I manned-up enough to do the right thing and texted
Emily, "Can you stop by the store this afternoon?"

"Yes. What's up?"

"I think we should talk about last night."

My phone rang a few seconds later with a voice call. It was

Emily.

"Hi Michael."

"Hey."

"I can stop by the store, but I'm not ready to talk

about last night."

I started to protest, "I'm so sorry. I'm worried I

ruined;”

She interrupted firmly but compassionately, "Stop!; Michael,

I love you. Nothing that happened last night changed that. I wanted everything
that happened just as much as you did, if not more. You are not to blame. If
anybody, I was the instigator."

"But I;”

She interjected again, "Michael!; I have a lot of

conflicting feelings and I'm not ready to talk yet. I'll let you know when I
am. Until then, please know that I love you and I don't want this to be an
awkward thing between us. It's just something that we need to figure out
together."

"Ok, I love you too."

We ended our phone call, and my phone chimed a text alert a

few seconds later, "I'll stop by around 4. I love you."

I typed back, "See you then. I love you too."

Emily did stop by the store that day and it was surprisingly

relaxed and comfortable. We talked about current happenings with school and our
friends, just like we had during any of her past social visits to the store.
Mr. Jacobs was there and even commented how he enjoyed Emily's visits and
seeing us together, to which we both smiled in appreciation.

Vivid Dreams.

The 'public courtship' portion of our relationship continued

as normal over the next days and weeks, spending time together as we always
had, though I was admittedly self-conscious and sheepish during Sunday
afternoon dinners at her parents' house.

I mentally declared the end of 'Valentine's Day' and prayed

constantly for the health of our relationship, patiently waiting for Emily to
be ready to talk. My determination for future integrity was strong and
steadfast; for about a week. After that, occasional flashbacks of passion and
physical pleasure began creeping into my thoughts, and slowly started eroding
my resolve. Several nights, I awoke from very vivid and unwholesome dreams with
painful throbbing erections, effectively eliminating any remaining willpower I
may have had.

Coincidentally, about 3-weeks after our night of debauchery,

I had just woken up from a night of graphic dreams when my phone chimed with an
early-morning text from Emily.

"Valentine's Day tonight?"

I had little resistance to the idea while lying in bed with

a rock-hard erection, but still felt the need to offer at least a minimal
façade of reluctance.

"Are you sure?"

She replied immediately, "Yes, I miss V-day."

"Me too. 7?"

"See you then!"

My anticipation escalated exponentially as time slowly

ticked forward and I went about my typical daily activities. I needed a
distraction from watching the clock and soaked in some sun between classes and
work by walking to the grocery store.

It happened to be an unseasonably warm April day with

temperatures in the upper 70s, and the town was alive with people emerging from
winter hibernation. Students studied on blankets and played lawn games in the
campus quad, while an abundance of bikers and joggers overtook the local streets
and sidewalks.

After Mr. Jacobs and I closed the store, I went upstairs to

find the apartment was sweltering. I opened the front windows and quickly
changed into a t-shirt and a pair of loose-fitting breathable gym shorts. The
gentle breeze slowly brought indoor temperatures down as I assembled two salads
using a mix of spring greens, grilled chicken, dried cherries, candied pecans,
gorgonzola cheese, and a raspberry vinaigrette.

Emily arrived promptly at 7 o'clock wearing a very cute

little sundress and white designer sneakers. The pastel mint-green dress was
made of a light-weight linen fabric and had a fluttering bottom hem that ended
a few inches above her knees. Thin spaghetti straps crisscrossed over her
exposed shoulder blades and reconnected to the dress fabric midway down her
back, low enough for me to recognize she couldn't be wearing a bra. The dress
wasn't overly revealing by most standards but was definitely more adventurous
than Emily's typically modest outfits.

"Wow, you look incredible!"

She gave me a flirtatious smile and said, "I'm glad you

approve. I was thinking about you when I bought it."

I responded with a teasing, "Oh really;” and

pulled her into my arms for a hello kiss that turned into four or five.

Breaking our kisses, I pointed at the bowls on the counter

and said, "Let's eat before we; get too distracted."

Emily laughed and we sat at the kitchen table to eat our

salads, chatting like the best friends we had become. Conversation flowed
easily despite our recent complexities and was testament that our relationship
was grounded and true. I felt closer to her than ever.

When finished, we both stood and placed our respective

dishes in the kitchen sink. Emily turned to step away, but I quickly grabbed
her by the waist and she squealed in surprise when I lifted her to sit on the
edge of the counter. I stood between her legs, gazed into her eyes, and
proclaimed from the depth of my heart, "I love you Emily Fulton."

I immediately pressed my lips against hers and she responded

by wrapping her arms around my neck and clutching her legs around my waist. The
slow, deep, passionate kisses that followed were an honest and true expression
of our pure love, and nothing less.

Those first kisses filled with gentle romantic passion

gradually evolved into more eager desire, our tongues exploring each other's
mouths and searching for a greater depth of joining. I wrapped my arms around
Emily's waist and lifted her from the counter, her arms and legs clutching me
tight.

She giggled playfully as I collapsed backward on the sofa,

her landing on top of me, straddled over my lap. Our kissing continued with her
body pressed fully against mine, my hands roaming her back and enjoying the
soft skin exposed by the open-back dress.

Emily occasionally shifted the weight of her hips from side

to side as we made out. I sensed that maybe the position was uncomfortable for
her, and asked between kisses, "Are you ok?"

She sat upright on my lap and reached for the bottom of her

dress, "I'm fine, the dress is just bunched up and I can't move."

She planted her knees on either side of my lap and lifted

upward to pull the dress out from underneath herself, revealing a quick glimpse
of white low-rise bikini-style panties. At the same time, I took the
opportunity to reach into my shorts and adjust my fully engorged cock to a more
comfortable position, pointing the swollen head toward my stomach and utilizing
the elastic waistband of my shorts to hold it in place.

Emily watched intently as I adjusted myself then momentarily

studied the resulting bulge before pressing herself back against me. My length
was firmly sandwiched between us and the feel of her body against mine was an
indescribable new experience, even though it was through a few layers of
fabric.

As we renewed our make-out session, Emily was enjoying the

feel of my cock pressing into her stomach and slowly began inching her way up
my body. When her mons came to rest over the base of my shaft, she began slowly
rolling her hips forward in an effort to gain better contact with her
panty-covered pussy. After repeated attempts without the desired effect, she
momentarily pulled away from our kissing and very purposely shifted further
upward to place her womanly heat squarely on the middle of my shaft.

She intently rocked her pelvis forward and backward,

nestling my girth between her folds as much as the cotton barrier would allow,
then increased her movement to slide up and down the length of the shaft. My
hands instinctively moved to Emily's hips to reinforce her motions, then more
boldly slid to cup and squeeze her ass.

The physics of her motions, and my erection's desire to

stand upright, worked in concert to move the elastic waistband downward from
where it had secured my cock against my stomach. The exposure was hidden from view
by the hem of her sundress, but I easily distinguished the new sensation of her
warm, wet cotton panties rubbing directly on the sensitive underside of my
shaft.

We gazed lustfully into each other's eyes, heavily inhaling

and exhaling, as Emily sat upright and wantonly pleasured herself on my length
and girth. The movements pulled at the fabric of her sundress, rhythmically
becoming taut with each cycling motion and imprinting her stiff nipples through
the thin fabric. The temptation was too much, and my hands slid up the sides of
her torso to cover her breasts through the dress.

Emily kept her eyes locked on mine when she brushed my hands

away, then slipped the thin spaghetti straps off her shoulders allowing the top
of the dress to fall away and pool around her waist. She continued grinding on
my cock and watched intently as I took in the sight of her naked breasts for
the first time. The perky mounds were in perfect proportion to her tiny frame
and jostled slightly with each of her pelvic thrusts.

My fixation was interrupted by the longing in her voice,

"Touch me Michael."

The luxuriously tender pillows conformed to the curvature of

my hands, slightly puffy areolas and hardened nipples pressing into my palms. I
kneaded them with fascination as Emily hastened her pelvic motions and
vigorously crushed our genitals together with all her body weight. The product
of her arousal copiously soaking through the thin panties and generously
lubricating our 'dry' mating.

I cupped her breasts with my hands and squeezed them such

that her nipples were gently pinched between my thumbs and forefingers.

The erotic sensations sent both of us over the edge. Emily's

movements on my shaft became erratic and her entire body began trembling in the
throes of orgasm. Simultaneously, my heavily swollen balls constricted and a
torrent of cum surged through my cock, pumping stream after stream of milky
fluid into the sundress that still draped over our joined mid-sections.

Emily collapsed onto my chest and laid motionless, only

rising and falling with the movements of my chest as we both attempted to catch
our breath. Once our breathing slowed, she spoke somewhat exhaustedly,
"You didn't let me answer you earlier. I love you too, Michael
Walker."

We laid together in post-orgasmic bliss for several minutes,

lightly kissing and caressing. The repercussions weren't immediate like they
were a few weeks before, but they did come.

We were both hit with the carnal reality of the situation

when Emily climbed off me and we saw the front of her sundress completely
soaked with a combination of our sexual fluids. It shouldn't have been a
surprise, but the lewdly soiled dress was a graphic trigger for our guilt and
shame.

We didn't have any way of cleaning and drying the dress in a

reasonable amount of time, so we placed it in a grocery bag for her to take
back to the dorm. Luckily, we had a small selection of women's gardening
clothes in the hardware store, so Emily wrapped herself in a towel and we went
down to the second floor, requisitioning a pair of women's overalls and a
t-shirt.

It was better than nudity, but the ill-fitting clothing was

an obvious sign that something was wrong, and it wouldn't be difficult for
friends to figure out what was going on. We just hoped we could get her back to
the dorm without someone noticing.

I led the way, walking a fair distance ahead of Emily and

giving a signal behind my back if I saw someone approaching. On my cue, she
would duck behind a tree, shrub, building, or other form of cover until they
passed.

Our system worked well, but it could only go so far. Men

weren't allowed in the women's dorm, so she would have to make the last leg of
the journey on her own. We peered through the glass entryway and only saw the
front desk student-worker who happened to be distracted with an iPad and
earbuds. Emily made a break for it, quickly opening the door and scampering
through the lobby until I lost sight of her.

I lingered outside the dorm for what seemed like forever

before receiving a text, "Made it. Had to hide in the stairway for a
couple minutes. Nobody saw me."

"Ok, good."

The adrenaline of sneaking Emily home faded as I walked back

to the apartment, and it was replaced by the oppressive weight of guilt and
remorse. Not only had I yielded to weakness and temptation, but we had broken
even the most liberal definitions of Christian integrity and purity. Certainly
privately, and almost publicly.

Overwhelmed by Guilt.

I skipped my classes the next morning and laid in bed,

wallowing in my guilt. Emily must have been doing the same, because I received
a text from one of her friends asking if she was ok. She wasn't in class and
wasn't answering her phone.

I called and she answered immediately, though with a somber

voice, "Aren't you supposed to be in class?"

"I didn't feel like going."

"Me either."

"Emily, we have to talk about Valentine's Day. We both

know what we're doing is wrong; we can't keep going on this roller coaster of
euphoria and guilt."

She cried, and spoke in a trembling voice between sniffles,

"I know; but; it doesn't feel wrong; when; we're together."

She was right and I didn't have a good retort other than

'the Bible says,' so I just stayed silent.

After a few moments of no sounds except for her muffled

sobbing, she reiterated between gasps, "It; it doesn't feel wrong Michael.
I love you; I want; nothing more than; to be; with you; emotionally; spiritually;
sexually; and every other; way."

I gloomily agreed, "I know it doesn't make sense. I

love you too, more than I can express with words."

We prayed over the phone for forgiveness and guidance.

Finding Clarity.

Everything Emily said was true and I ended the call with a

sense of clarity. There was only one acceptable solution, and it was one that I
embraced with enthusiasm and zeal. I cleaned myself up, put on a respectable
outfit, and marched with determination over to Dr. Fulton's office.

I knocked on his door and heard his call, "Come

in."

He extended his handshake in greeting as I shut the door

behind me.

"Hello Michael."

"Hi Dr. Fulton."

He looked at me knowingly, "I presume this is not an

academic visit?"

"No, sir. I've come to ask for Emily's hand in

marriage."

Dr. Fulton smiled and said, "I suspected this question

would be coming soon."

He paused in thought for a few excruciating moments, then

queried, "Do you love my daughter?"

He already knew the answer and was more focused on assessing

my sincerity.

"Yes sir, with all my heart, mind, and soul."

"Have you been a spiritual leader and maintained

integrity during your courtship?"

I anticipated he would ask me that question, or something

similar, but it still gave me pause. He was my future wife's father and I owed
him an honest answer.

"I've always sought God's Will and direction for us,

but I've made mistakes. I vow to continue seeking God and be the best leader
and husband I can be for your daughter."

He raised his eyebrows a bit and probed deeper, "Have

you maintained my daughter's purity?"

"We've; I've had physical temptations and, with God's

Grace, have done my best to resolve them with integrity. I know that is a vague
answer, so I'll cut to the root of the issue and tell you that we are both
still virgins."

I paused for a second, then added, "I'm ashamed that I

couldn't come to you with a simple 'Yes' to that question."

"I can respect that. Thank you for your honesty."

He stood and extended his hand to me, "I've never seen

Emily look at someone the way she looks at you. She loves you very much,
Michael. Make her happy."

Plans.

I used the rest of that morning for planning, then enlisted

help from four of Emily's closest friends that afternoon. I laid out the plan
and the girls were giddy with excitement, eager to do everything I asked. I
only hoped they could keep the secret for 24-hours.

Early the next morning, I sent Emily a text message, "I

love you, Emily. I think it might be good to enjoy some simple time together; maybe
get some ice cream. Will you take a walk with me this afternoon?"

"I would like that. I love you, too."

I walked to the residence hall dressed in a nice pair of

linen khakis and a white button-down linen shirt. Emily was sitting on a bench
outside the entrance dressed in a white knit summer dress and white, flat
strappy sandals. It was a simple dress with modest neckline and hemline, but
she made it look absolutely stunning. Her woven wire necklace and bracelet
complemented the dress nicely.

"I see you have your walking shoes on."

She giggled, pointed her feet outward, and said sweetly,

"Yes, I do!"

I took her hand in mine and we strolled through campus

talking and laughing just as we always had. Despite our challenges with
temptation, our relationship was simple and effortless. It just felt right.

As we approached Stern Hall hand-in-hand, I passively

steered us through one of the passageways leading into the courtyard garden. Emerging
into the courtyard, Emily covered her nose and mouth with her hands, and tears
began streaming down her cheeks.

Her parents, my parents, and all our closest friends stood

in a semi-circle around the back side of the central fountain. A cascade of red,
pink, and white paper hearts hung from the courtyard trees and shrubs, while a
trail of red rose petals led toward a simple white chair surrounded by a dense
mat of rose petals.

I ushered her to the chair where she sat, and I kneeled in

front of her.

"Emily, you are my best friend and I love you with

every fiber of my being. I know you are the marriage partner God made for me
and, if you will have me, I want to spend every moment of the rest of my life
with you. Will you marry me? Will you be my Valentine?"

Nobody standing around us understood the significance of

that last question, but we did, and that's all that mattered.

Emily screeched, "Yes! Yes! Yes!" and threw her

arms around me as I kneeled in front of her. Everyone clapped and cheered as I
slid a woven wire and resistor engagement ring on her finger, and we held each
other tightly in an all-consuming embrace.

I could feel Emily's streaming tears as our cheeks pressed

together and she whispered in my ear, "I want you so bad right now,
Michael Walker."

I whispered back, "After we're married, Emily Fulton,

it can be Valentine's every day."

Setting A Date.

Emily didn't waste any time planning the wedding and quickly

set a date for the end of July based on earliest availability of the church and
reception venue. She chose a beautiful, historic lakeside retreat center that
was once a hunting club for titans of the industrial revolution. She
occasionally asked my opinion on things, but I wanted it to be her day, and my
'opinion' always supported hers.

I told Mr. Jacobs the news, to which he responded,

"It's about time you married that girl!"

He was also thrilled that I would be staying in town through

the summer and could work full-time at the hardware store. He asked me to take
a more active role in managing the store and insisted on a rather healthy
increase in pay. I offered to start paying rent, but he refused saying it
wasn't really costing him anything for me to live there, and I needed to save
the money.

Emily was fortunate to be offered a paid position at the

Christian school summer camp and readily accepted.

Graduation came in early May. I received my Bachelor of

Civil Engineering degree, and Emily received her Bachelor of Education degree.
We both walked the stage and went out for a nice dinner with our families.
Though our parents were very different, they genuinely enjoyed each other's
company and conversation was easy. Mom asked Emily a lot of questions about her
teaching degree and seemed to be reliving fond memories of her own college
years.

Both of our respective parents quizzed us on our plans for

living arrangements and careers after marriage. We responded that we both had
some interviews scheduled but were still open minded and seeking God's
guidance.

Emily and I celebrated the achievement alone together by

going for ice cream and a long walk after dinner.

With a wedding within sight, we had vowed to resist our

physical desires, limiting ourselves to hugs and 'reasonable' kissing. Kissing
escalated a little beyond reasonable on a few occasions, including on a bench
that night after graduation, but we did pretty well for the most part. Our
clothes stayed on and there weren't any orgasms.

Uninhibited Intimacy

The wedding was beautiful, but not nearly as beautiful as

Emily. I stood in my tuxedo at the front of the church and was moved to tears
as her dad walked her down the aisle. I loved her beyond all words, and she was
absolutely radiant.

She seemingly floated down the aisle in a stunning white

satin and lace dress. The satin bottom billowed outward from a narrow-ribboned
waistline into a simple, unadorned floor-length skirt. In contrast, the top was
a fitted satin bodice with sweetheart neckline, ornately overlayed with lace
patterning. The lace extended above the satin as a sheer lace fabric to create
a secondary rounded neckline and full sleeves. Her strawberry blond hair was
pulled back into a small bun and adorned with wisps of baby's breath flowers.
She was the most beautiful creature I had ever laid eyes on.

The pastor led us through traditional vows after both of us

took a couple minutes to exchange our own personal, heartfelt words. Once
complete, our friends and family cheered as the pastor announced, "You may
kiss your bride."

The reception was equally as beautiful as the wedding. Emily

had done an amazing job orchestrating the decorations, dinner, and procession
of activities.

While dinner was served, we led each other around the large

timber-frame hall, introducing each other to our respective friends and
families that the other didn't know and chatting with those we did.

It was a whirlwind experience, and our first dance was also

the first 'alone-time' we had together since saying 'I do'. Emily reached her
arms upward and hung them around my neck, while mine encircled her torso. We
held each other tight, making slow circles in time with the music. Emily pulled
my neck downward and we kissed as we spun.

I whispered in her ear, "Will you be my Valentine

tonight?"

She responded with a deep, lustful kiss then said, "I'm

counting the minutes."

After that, so was I. We continued dancing and mingling with

guests, but my mind and body were distracted, and growing increasingly eager to
physically express my love with Emily.

At the end of the evening, we said our goodbyes to friends

and family that remained before packing Emily and her billowing skirt into the
backseat of a rented Lincoln Town Car. My best man and Emily's maid-of-honor
sat in the front seat and drove us to a historic bed & breakfast where I
had reserved the honeymoon suite for the night.

The four of us chatted casually and reminisced the evening's

highlights as we made the 20-minute drive. Emily and I held hands in the back
seat, resisting the urge to maul each other in view of the unmarried couple in
the front seat.

The exterior stone and brick of the old lumber baron mansion

was softly illuminated as we approach the auto court, giving a regal sense of
arrival. We said goodbye to our chauffeurs and quickly made our way up the
monumental entry stairs and into the foyer. A trail of red rose petals led from
the foyer, up an intricately carved-wood staircase, and through the large oak
doors of the honeymoon suite.

We held hands as we slowly climbed the staircase, then

practically ran into the suite as fast as Emily's dress would allow. I closed
the doors behind us then swept Emily into my arms, following the trail of rose
petals to a king-size four poster bed.

I laid her on the bed and climbed over the top of her,

suspending myself over her tiny frame and looking into her eyes, "I love
you Emily Walker."

"I love you too, Michael Walker."

I leaned downward and pressed my lips against hers with

hunger and desire. She matched my eagerness and our mouths frantically searched
for a deeper and deeper joining. I struggled to shed my tuxedo coat as I
suspended myself above her, and she impatiently tugged at my shirt.

Recognizing it wasn't working, I stood at the side of the

bed and removed my coat and shirt. Emily was still reclined on the bed, fully
dressed, watching intently. My shoes and pants followed, leaving me standing
before her in a white pair of boxer shorts, her eyes locked on my intense
erection straining against the fabric.

I offered my hand and helped her slide to the edge of the

bed. She stood with me and we shared a few slower, less frenzied kisses before
she said, "Help me out of this Michael."

I sat on the edge of the bed as she turned her back to me.

My fingers fumbled nervously as they unfastened a series of buttons and hooked
clasps running from her neck to the small of her back. The dress fell open as I
progressed downward and revealed her flawless fair skin, interrupted only by a
white lace strapless bra.

Emily pulled her arms from the transparent lace dress

sleeves and allowed the garment to slide down her petite body, pooling at her
feet. It was my turn to stare as she stood before me in the bra, white
thigh-high stockings, and tanga style panties. She kicked off her heels and
turned to face me. My eyes lustfully surveyed her incredible body, including
the veiled bits beneath the transparent lace panties and bra cups.

She watched my amazement and, when my eyes met hers again,

deftly opened the front clasp of her bra and let it fall to the floor. We
kissed for a few moments with her standing and me sitting on the edge of the
bed, my hands freely roaming her body.

Emily broke our kiss and kneeled at the bedside in front of

me. Running her hands over the top my thighs and under my boxers, she
commented, "I've wanted this for so long."

She tugged at my boxer shorts and I lifted my hips, my cock

springing upright as the restraining cloth eased downward. Emily pushed the
boxers off my legs then turned her attention to my towering rod. She stared
with a sense of wonder at the first real penis she had ever seen.

The difference in our body sizes was dramatic and my

slightly-above-average-size cock looked absolutely enormous in comparison to
her petite hands and body, nearly similar in length and girth to her nearby
forearm.

She reached forward and trepidatiously traced her slender

fingertips along the length of my shaft.

I sensed her nervousness and gave reassurance, "I'm

your husband, Emily. It belongs to you now."

She smiled at the encouragement and more confidently

explored with her hands, moving it from side to side and inspecting from all
angles. Her fingertips traced lightly up and down my shaft before wrapping her
fingers around it to feel the mass in her hands.

The touch of her soft hands was an incredible new sensation

and my cock throbbed with anticipation, veins bulging and the mushroom head
turning an angry shade of purple.

"Ah. that feels so good!"

She began slowly stroking one hand up and down my shaft

while her other gently explored my low-hanging balls. I was on the edge and
small rivers of pre-cum streamed out my tip and down my shaft to lubricate
Emily's hand.

Straining to maintain control, I grunted, "Stop! I'm

going to explode!"

She intensified her motions and begged in a determined and

seductive voice, "Cum for me Michael; Cum for me;”

I wanted to warn her, but my mouth froze open, unable to

speak as my butt clenched and hips arched forward. I could feel powerful jets
of fluid racing the length of my cock before spraying indiscriminately out the
tip. My senses returned from momentary unconsciousness to feel Emily's soft
hand lazily milking residual drips of fluid from my still hard cock, and to see
her neck and chest covered in my cum, some of it forming a river between her
breasts and flowing downward across her stomach.

I panicked, "I'm so sorry!" and started to get up

to find a towel.

Emily pushed me back down and continued slowly fondling me,

"Shhh; that was amazing!"

I pulled her from kneeling bedside to lay on top of me on

the bed, our naked bodies pressed together skin-on-skin for the very first
time. We kissed passionately as we rolled on the bed, neither of us bothered by
the cum smeared between our torsos.

Our hands confidently explored each other's bodies as we

playfully kissed and wrestled on the bed. Emily gasped when my hand came to
rest over her panty-covered sex and slowly traced the outline of her swollen
folds. Her legs instinctively opened to allow my hand greater freedom.

I caressed the excitement-soaked fabric for a few moments

before gently tugging at the waistband. Emily understood my unspoken request
and quickly rolled on her back, arched her hips, and threw the sodden panties
onto the floor.

I rolled on my side to kiss her and slid my hand down her

naked body until I felt a small triangular tuft of hair. My fingers combed
through the soft hair, then pushed onward, running down the length of her wet,
flowered opening and feeling the direct sensations of her heat and moisture for
the first time. Repeating the motions, my fingers repetitively worked through
her furrows, eliciting squirms and moans as we kissed.

Having no experience, my fingers roamed blindly. I simply

took cues from Emily's pleasure, and repeated actions that she seemed to like.
Finding her two most sensitive spots, I alternated between curling fingers into
her tunnel and circling my slickened fingertips around her hard nub. After a
few cycles, Emily pushed my hand away and rolled on top of me, saying, "I
need you inside of me; I want you to make me your wife."

She straddled my lap and grasped for my still rock-hard cock

beneath her. She held it vertical and straddled over top of it in a squatted
position.

With a lustful and determined expression, she seated the

engorged head against her opening. I felt an intense pressure on the tip of my
cock before a tight ring of warmth and wetness enveloped the head and Emily
moaned loudly, "Oh;”

She paused with a look of satisfaction on her face before

wiggling her hips and working downward another inch or so, letting out another
extended moan as she progressed, "Oh."

Her hips pulled up slightly then pressed down again with a

staccato, "Ah!"

I was worried about her and asked, "Does it hurt?"

"A; little; but; feels; so; good!"

She repeatedly lifted her hips and then incrementally impaled

herself further, yelping "Ah; Ah, Ah!" in time with her descending
hips.

I was so focused on Emily that I didn't really comprehend my

own pleasure until she shifted from squatting to a kneeling position, which
drove the full length of my cock deep into her womb.

We both moaned at the same time, me with a guttural "Uh;”

and her with a contented "Oh."

It was then that Emily began rocking her hips forward and

backward, intently pleasuring herself on my rod while my hands kneaded her
perky cum-covered breasts. The rocking motions of her pelvis intensified, very
purposefully grinding her clit against my pubic bone and pushing my thick
mushroom head firmly against her cervix.

It had only been a couple minutes since our first

penetration began, but the exquisite feel of her tight tunnel had my balls
quickly boiling toward an imminent release. My inner primal instincts took
control and my hands slid downward to roughly grasp Emily's ass and pull her
strongly onto my cock with each motion of her hips.

She responded to my urgency and furiously thrashed herself

on my impaled rod, her firm breasts jolting with our frenetic search for
release. My hips instinctively bucked upward and I lost all control as my balls
began pumping stream after stream of my love deep into her womb.
Simultaneously, Emily let out a sharp cry of pleasure as her liquid climax
flooded over my pelvis and her body shook in short, truncated movements.

We both gasped for breath as Emily's tremors subsided and

she collapsed on top of me, my cock still enveloped in her slick warmth.

I ran my fingers lovingly through her disheveled hair while

she recovered on my chest, then guided her chin upward toward mine for an
extended gentle kiss before softly saying, "I love you, Emily Walker.
Happy Valentine's Day."

She responded, "Happy Valentine's Day. I love you

too."

Consumed.

Last night's consummation of our marriage was followed by a

shared shower and several more rounds of love making before we both succumbed
to exhaustion.

I was awakened this morning by soft light streaming through

the mansion's leaded glass windows, while Emily continued her slumber under the
king size duvet. It was a surreal sense of awareness waking up in the same bed,
both of us still nude, with remnants of our passion dried on our bodies.

No shame. No guilt. Just overwhelming love for my wife.

Selfishly wanting to etch the ethereal experience into my

brain, I sit in this armchair thanking God for his Goodness; admiring my
bride's bare leg extending from under the duvet; and wondering what the future
holds for our perfect love.

Based on a post by Architect 23 94, in 3 parts, for Literotica.

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My First TimeBy (various)