I am not entirely sure I care for the comparison, and if I believed further delay might alleviate my bride’s fears I would be happy to give her the time she needed. Well, perhaps not happy, but I am convinced it would make no difference in any case. Tally needs to conquer her trepidation, and she can only accomplish that with experience. Delightful, exquisite experience.
I will do what I can to deliver. For reasons I am only starting to understand, this matters to me. To her.
I shift to position myself between her knees, drawing her legs up. She offers no resistance, allowing me to arrange her as I like for my penetration. Her eyes are tightly closed, her beautiful mouth working as she chews on her lip. On impulse I reach for her, rub the pad of my thumb over her mouth. She parts her lips and I slip the tip of my thumb inside. Her mouth fastens on it and she suckles, the soft tug so intensely erotic I have to fight down the urge to ram my cock into her body, deep and hard, right to the hilt.
Instead, I use my other hand to stroke the velvety lips of her quim, drawing comfort from the welcoming moisture I find there. Not for the first time, Lady Natalia’s mouth is saying no, but the rest of her body is screaming yes.
I slide the head of my cock into her hot, wet entrance, taking the time to look down at that spot where our bodies are soon to be joined. The pink velvet of her sweet cunt, the lips stretching around the glistening, swollen rod soon to be buried inside her. So sweet. So adorable.
I press forward, keeping a harsh rein on my lust. It would be easy, much too easy, to rush this and to hurt her. She’s so tight, I know she’ll struggle to accept what is happening, at least at first. But soon, provided I take plenty oftime over her, and can manage not to terrify the poor woman half to death…
Not that I’ve enjoyed too much success on that front so far. I fear that last spanking may have been one too many, especially for her wedding night. I will be more patient with her, more tolerant. I will.
Or maybe not. Her peachy little bottom is altogether too much of a temptation. Better that I strive to awaken the appetites I now know with certainty lurk beneath that innocent demeanour. My own beautiful whore, delighting in the same desires that drive me.
I ease further inside her, taking care to stop each time she gasps in pain. This is tight, so deliciously snug, the walls of her cunt gripping my cock like a glove. She’s hot and wet, very ready, but so tiny. She is not fragile though, I am certain of that. I will not break her, nor will I harm her.
I would not do that, not for the world.
Another half inch, then an inch. I sink the head of my cock deeper, bury it between her soft folds. I let out a sigh of pure contentment, pressing forward, easing my way inside. I want to thrust, the urge near overwhelming, but I maintain a savage grip on my own desires.
Another half inch, and…
God’s sweet bones, what is this?
I press again, a tentative, experimental nudge. This time there is no mistaking it, that thin, quivering barrier guarding her quim and blocking my way.
Twice married, twice widowed. She has said herself she is not a virgin. But the proof of it is here.
My first wife was pure when we wed. I took her maidenhead, and I recall the sensation most vividly. I am not wrong. I am confused, astonished, but not wrong.
Tally’s eyes remain tightly shut, her face screwed up in a grimace of pure concentration, of steely determination to face and conquer the inevitable. She has courage, this little bride of mine. She will need it.
I contemplate stopping at this point, pulling out. I might attempt to talk to her, seek to understand this conundrum. But to what end. She is my wife, this is to happen between us. She will not leave my bed a virgin.
There is but one way, really, and I see no merit in drawing out the agony. I lean forward, plant my hands on the mattress on either side of her head. I tilt my hips back, position myself with care for a smooth, strong thrust, and I do it.
Tally lets out a high-pitched scream, a shriek of pain, fear, shock. I expect all of that, even if she does not. My rod drives home, I am fully embedded, balls deep inside her. The first part of my mission accomplished, I hold still, my weight supported on my hands and my knees as she arches under me, writhing on the bed.
“Please, please stop. What have you done? Hurts…” Her moans and cries are pitiful, her desperation near palpable. She believes I have injured her, and not without reason. I lower my upper body to hers to trail my lips across her chin, her face, finally settling on her neck.
Incredibly, she goes still beneath me, though her chest is heaving and I can feel her rapid pulse under my lips.
“Easy, sweetheart. You are safe, No more pain, I swear that to you.”
“What have you done? It has never felt like this, never hurt like this…”
“I know, little one, I know that. Trust me, I will make it good from here.”
“I cannot. You cannot, this is wrong. You have injured me.”
“Not injured. I hurt you, ‘tis all. Just for a moment, but no more. Am I hurting you still?”
She hesitates, her eyes opening a fraction. She frowns, as though contemplating my question. Then, she shakes her head.
Thank God. Thank you, God.
“You were a virgin, sweetheart. I have no notion how or why, but that is the truth.”
