Wedding night

Having said the wedding raised my blood pressure, I should fill you in on another couple of details.

As mentioned, the dress code was black tie and ball gowns: I dusted off my dinner suit, and my wife wore Her poshest frock. Nothing remotely as provocative as many of the others at the wedding, but hey, She’s not that kind of woman.

We were running a little behind schedule when the babysitter arrived, and neither of us was dressed to go out the door. So we hurriedly got tarted up. I couldn’t help but notice She was wearing the infamous red bra and panties, and I was not displeased to see the matching suspender belt and stockings getting their second ever outing. But having been a bit grumpy with each other since the other day’s conversation, and perishing the thought that I should ever objectify Her, I decided to pay Her underwear no public heed.

And I confess, I completely forgot about Her lingerie till we got home. Which is a pity. Because for me, half the pleasure of your partner wearing sexy underwear is knowing they’re wearing it – it’s the tease.

Well, we got home late, released the baby sitter, and with it being about 1am, headed for bed.

There were a couple of things I needed to do that meant I made several trips up and down stairs in a short period of time, and I couldn’t help but notice my Wife was making absolutely no effort to get ready for bed. So I brushed my teeth, and filed myself under the duvet.

Then She took Her dress off and walked over to me in just Her underwear.

Me: Am I allowed to enjoy looking?
Her: It would be a shame not to. It doesn’t get an outing very often.

I swung my legs out of bed and pulled Her towards me, running my hand up the back of Her thighs, tweaking Her suspender straps, and nuzzled Her tits. She didn’t seem displeased at this or the fact that I instantly got an erecting, which rested between Her thighs as She stood in front of me.

But She was getting cold, so we cut our losses, She undressed Herself, and walked round to Her side of the bed. There seemed to be just the slightest of pauses before She climbed under the covers, and I guessed She took a moment to decide not to put Her night shirt on. (It’s really not sexy sleepwear!) The lights went off, and She snuggled up.

Considering how She’d expressed Her dislike for being touched, (same link as above, in case you’ve already clicked on it) I wasn’t particularly planning on anything like fondling Her boobs, or having much manual fun at all, but as She lay on Her back I found somewhere to put my hands, stoked cautiously, and it seemed to meet with approval. I was then surprised when She suggested I stick to stroking Her thighs and breasts for the moment.

Positive requests even!
So I did!

I gently ran my fingers round Her tits, and She seemed to like it. I stroked Her thigh, even a little inner thigh, and She seemed to like that too.

And then She rolled onto Her side, towards me, which I confess disappointed me a little, as it stopped my playing with Her fun bags, but She wanted to cuddle up. Beggars can’t be choosers, and it was going ok, so go with the flow. And it all seemed to be flowing rather well.

At this point, the one thing I really wanted to do was to go down on Her. To bury my face between Her spread legs and worship at the moist alter of Her cunt. I so wanted to run my tongue along Her snatch, lap at Her delicious lips, and suck on Her clit. But things were going well, and I didn’t want to spoil it. So I bit my tongue.

Fairly quickly, She clambered aboard, and aimed Her pussy at my cock. I slid into Her, gave a few gentle thrusts, and pulled out, whilst we snogged and I kneaded Her tits. The I penetrated Her again … and withdrew again. I don’t know why, but I wanted to tease Her a little. Give Her enough of a taste to want more than She was getting. To have some fun.

I can’t remember what She said, but there was inquisitive protestation, so I acquiesced and eased my tool as deep into Her as I could. And then fucked. A slow, deep, forceful fuck. Grinding up against Her mound. Thrusting hard into Her tight quim. I really wanted Her to cum, and cum hard.

And I so nearly messed up. I was getting a little carried away with my hands on Her arse.
Her: Is there any way you can stroke my arse without pulling it open.
I backed off. But that was ok. She hadn’t just wriggled and said stop.
Then I got a little too eager with her baps.
Her: Not so hard with the stroking.
Me: Ok.
Her: Gentler stroking, harder fucking.
Me: Ok!!!
Her: You can fuck as hard as you like.
So I did. I fucked as hard as I could. Slamming into Her cunt as hard as I could manage.
Her breathing fell under my control, as She exhaled with each of my thrusts, panting and whimpering between them.
So I doubled my efforts, banging away with all my strength, concentrating hard on grinding up into Her at the most productive angle.
She came hard, and tired as I was, I slowed to a halt.
Her: Hard is good.
Me: Do you want some more?
Her: If you want.
And I did. Hammered my dick into Her gorgeous twat again. And She kept cumming. She was pleasingly vocal too. Not a stream of obscene supplications (that would be nice!), but confirmatory grunts and moans that told me She was getting what She wanted.

And then, Dear Reader, I’m afraid to say that I ran out of energy.
It had been a long day, I’d lost count of how much wine I’d had at the wedding, as the waiting staff continually topped up guests glasses. And we’d been fucking hard for quite some time.

(A quick side note, Dear Female Reader: If you want to get your lover to work on his six-pack and glutes, get on top and make him do the thrusting – it’s like doing a whole load of crunches and it’s bloody hard work keeping going for a protracted period!)


Her: Hmmmm … and what about you? Can we get you there?
Me: Not today.
I’d had a wank in mid morning, though I didn’t tell Her, and I knew my balls were running on empty.
Me: I got my pleasure from yours.

She dismounted, rolled over, and pulled me into a spoon.
I told Her that, without wanting to be overly analytical, it was nice to know She wanted me to stroke Her and fuck Her. She replied that She’d wanted to tell me what She wanted me to do, to say things that gave positive encouragement, rather than telling me to stop.

So it seems, that even though the other morning may have been a painful exchange for both of us, it may actually have done us some good.

10 Responses to “Wedding night”

  1. Progress or simply a good moment, but either way I am very happy for you!! ๐Ÿ™‚

  2. Dearest A.M.,
    Kayla said it best.. I’m delighted for you : ).

  3. Oh, this is such a much better end than the What-to-do-next post i cried over! I especially like that graphic image ๐Ÿ™‚

  4. Right (fucking) on AM! That was beautiful. ๐Ÿ™‚


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