A tiny whimper rose from my chest. Doingthis… a lot?On my knees in front of my husband, serving his pleasure in this mortifying way?
But I obeyed, my hand again going back to my bottom as if to remind myself of what could happen if I refused one of Chris’s instructions. I moved my head slightly, feeling the rigid shape beneath the cloth. It was so big. How could something that large be hidden in a man’s underwear? How had I never noticed it before when Chris hugged me?
“Keep kissing,” he said, and his hand in my hair guided me, pressing my mouth against different spots along the hard length. “Show me how you’re learning obedience. Remember what happens to naughty girls.”
I kissed it over and over, my lips finding the shape of it through the fabric. Each time I felt it pulse or twitch, a corresponding pulse answered between my own legs. My body was doing that humiliating thing again—getting wet and needy and shameful.
It went on for what felt like forever. Kiss after kiss. My face pressed to my husband’s most private place, breathing in that dark masculine scent, feeling the heat and hardness of him. Tears leaked from my eyes, but I didn’t know if they were from fear, embarrassment, or something else entirely.
Finally, Chris’s hand loosened in my hair.
“Scoot back,” he said. “Give me room to stand.”
I shuffled backward on my knees, grateful for the reprieve. My lips felt swollen and my face burned with shame.
Chris stood, and I had to tilt my head back to keep looking at him. His hands went to the waistband of his briefs.
“I’m going to show it to you now,” he said. “The most important difference between husbands and wives.”
He pulled the briefs down.
My breath stopped in my throat. I couldn’t look away even though every instinct screamed at me to close my eyes, to turn my head, to run.
His… histhing… it jutted out from his body, thick and rigid and impossibly large. The skin was darker than the rest of him, stretched tight. I could see veins running along it. The head was swollen and purple-red, and there was moisture glistening at the tip.
How could that thing be real? How could it be part of a human body?
“This is called a penis,” Chris said, his voice steady despite the way it trembled slightly. “That’s what the doctors call it, anyway.A man calls it his cock. It’s what makes me a man. What gives me authority over you as my wife.”
I stared at it, frozen between terror and a fascination I didn’t understand. My pussy clenched again, wetness soaking through the tiny lace panties.
“There are things that make a man’s cock feel good,” Chris continued, and I saw his hand move to wrap around it. His fingers barely circled the thickness. “A wife’s lips. Her hands. Her breasts pressed around it.”
He stroked himself slowly as he spoke, and I watched in horrified fascination.
“But most of all,” he said, his eyes burning into mine, “a cock feels good when it’s put inside a wife’s body. Inside her mouth. Inside her little pussy. Even inside her bottom hole. Wherever and whenever her husband chooses to put it.”
Inside? Inside my body?I didn’t understand. How could something that large fit inside me anywhere?
“I… I don’t…” My voice came out as barely a whisper. “What do you mean, inside?”
Chris looked at me for a long moment. “You really don’t know, do you?”
I shook my head, tears spilling down my cheeks.
“A woman’s pussy,” he said patiently, though I could hear the strain in his voice, “has an opening. A hole that leads inside her body. That’s where a husband puts his cock. He pushes it inside her and moves it in and out until he feels good enough to release his seed. That’s how I’ll put a baby in your tummy someday.”
The image his words created was impossible. Terrifying. That huge thing, pushing inside the place between my legs? It would tear me apart.
“It can’t fit,” I gasped. “Chris, please, it’s too big, it would hurt?—”
“It will fit,” he said firmly. “Women’s bodies are made to take their husbands’ cocks. It will hurt the first time, because you have a thing called a hymen that makes you a virgin. My cock will go through that, and you’ll bleed a little, but you’ll stretch. My cock is pretty big, but you’ll learn to take it, and like having it in you because I’m your husband.”
“No, please—” I was sobbing now, my hands clasped in front of me. “Please don’t. Not tonight. Please, Chris, I’m not ready, I can’t?—”
“It’s called fucking,” he interrupted. “When a husband puts his cock inside his wife and uses her body for his pleasure. It’s what husbands get to do to their wives whenever they want.”
Whenever they want.The words echoed in my head. He could do this to me any time. Force that huge thing inside me. Use me to make himself feel good.
