Bridal Suite Submission Ch. 02

I'm a very bashful person by nature. I've always been modestly self conscious, especially about public displays of affection. It's a shyness that Peter has certainly tested, and so delightfully. But then, I'm getting ahead of myself. I tell you this only so you can

imagine how exhilarated I felt when, on our wedding day, Peter pulled me into his arms and kissed me so deeply for our first wedding photo, right there on the lawn in front of the little campus chapel where we'd just been wed, our friends and family all gathered around to watch.

It was a lovely summer day, a day perfect for enjoying in slow motion though ours had been a whirlwind. The ceremony, the vows, everything. Now as Peter and I posed for our photos it felt the first chance I'd had all day to actually stop and breathe. My heart still raced as wildly as it had earlier up on the alter, though now it was as much for the exhibitionistic thrill of kissing for the camera as for anything else. It's silly, I know. But 4

that's just how I am.

After the first few photos our friends and family naturally drifted off to other things, and Peter and I finally had a few moments alone to ourselves, albeit under the watchful eye of the photographer. I felt alive with arousal. Peter's arms were around me at every moment, his lovely body so close, his lips on mine each chance we had. Every time we kissed, every time we posed for the photographer, it felt a strangely exhibitionistic act. In

my fantasies the heroine would feel like this, except she would be nude for the camera and it wouldn't be her lover's lips upon her but his manhood within her. I trembled to imagine this and hugged Peter closer.

One picture more than any set my heart racing. It was entirely unscripted. Our photographer was in between rolls of film and she'd gone back inside the chapel for more.

In our moment alone Peter sat down on a little bench, and not knowing exactly why except that it felt only natural, I knelt at his feet. My wedding gown settled around me. With my bouquet of roses cradled in my arms I leaned against Peter's legs and smiled. The lovely breeze tickled the bare skin between my breasts, where the daring plunge of my neckline left me dangerously exposed. I tingled. I felt alive. I felt a woman helplessly, completely in love. Overwhelmed by what I felt for Peter I looked up at him, and at that moment I saw our photographer leaning out from the upper window of the chapel with camera in hand, just above us. It was a fleeting, stolen moment. I smiled and she snapped our picture.

It was only afterward that I realized how perfect a view she must have had down my

cleavage, and how submissive I must have looked kneeling at Peter's feet. It was a thrilling thought. Of all the photos we'd taken, this one more than any I couldn't wait to see.

* * *

On the dance floor, our reception in full swing, Peter pulled me into his arms and kissed me deeply, leading me in our first dance as Mr. and Mrs. Peter Thomas. Our first slow, close dance. You can imagine how my heart skipped a beat to feel his lips on mine,

and his hands on me, and how my love for him leapt, and how I blushed. Just as I'd blushed when he kissed me at the altar in front of everyone, and while posing for photos,

and each time since.

It was our first dance as husband and wife, our first dance as two intimate lovers now joined forever. As Peter held me close and led me to the soft, romantic music, he whispered in my ear:

"You're the most beautiful woman in the world, Catherine."

"And the luckiest," I said, smiling up at him. God, he was so handsome, the twinkle in his eye so exciting. It had been so deliciously distracting to stand there at the altar and want him so badly. Even now I could still hear the words in my head, clear as day.

I, Catherine, take you Peter to be my lawfully wedded husband, to love and to cherish...

...and to lust for, and make mad, passionate love with, and -- God willing -- to submit to, my mind, body and soul...

As we danced together I kissed Peter's ear and whispered to him softly. "I have a surprise for you."

"Oooh.... what is it?"

"I can't tell you yet."

Peter groaned good naturedly. "Why do you do that to me?"

"Because you like it," I teased. But that was only part of the reason. The truth was, I'd also told him just so I couldn't back out. Now he would be expecting the surprise. Now I had to go through with it, no matter how nervous I was.

"When...?"

"Later," I told him softly. "When we're alone."

Peter smiled. "Upstairs?"

"Maybe."

"Maybe we should go right now."

I giggled and hugged him tighter, following him to the music. "And leave our guests? Sorry honey, you'll just have to wait."

Peter groaned. "I can't wait, Catherine. Not now!"

"Well, you're just going to have to." I'd waited months for this, for the wedding and our dance and later. Especially the later part. The surprise part. And I wanted Peter to be as anxious as I was when we got to it. I smiled up at him. "Now kiss me again, honey. I promise it will be worth the wait."

* * *

In my fantasies the hero always stole the heroine away from the reception early, always led her straight to the bridal suite, or the coat room, or the stables -- sometimes even to a dungeon, or even just to the nearby woods -- and took her passionately as she lay bound and helpless. In my fantasies he always whipped her before he had her, and she

always -- always -- loved it. In my fantasies he always ravaged her and took of her his

pleasure with their guests still at hand so nearby and oblivious to their passion.

Reality, though, dictated that Peter and I stay through the reception; through the greetings, the toasts, the cake, the dancing. And at every moment there were our guests:

friends and family, so many that Peter and I hadn't a moment alone to ourselves. By the

time we finally excused ourselves from the reception I was desperate to be away, and

desperate to be alone with Peter.

In true, playful Peter fashion, the moment we were through the doors and our wedding reception behind us he slipped his arms around me from behind, capturing me right there in the hallway. Right there with our friends and family so near, the band, the caterers. The music behind us was a heavy, festive beat now, the laughter and chatter barely muffled by the doors we'd just come through, and now came Peter's husky, sexy voice, whispering in my ear.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are, Catherine?"

I closed my eyes and smiled as he gently kissed the nape of my neck. Mmmm. "I've wanted to do this all evening," he whispered.

"Do what?"

"This..." He turned me in his arms and kissed me deeply, at the same time slipping one hand down to squeeze my bottom through my silken wedding gown.

"Peter! Someone will see!"

"Then let them."

"Peter!" I squirmed in his arms, blushing. Our guests were still so close in the reception hall behind us, not even out of ear shot yet. And the caterers, and...

And then a familiar, sweet voice, one which brought a still deeper blush to my cheeks.

"Hey you two... what are you doing?"

It was Kim. Beautiful, sweet blonde Kim, my maid of honor and best friend -- well, second best now. I turned and smiled at her. "We were just talking."

"Mmm... is that what that's called?" Kim winked at us. "Anyway, I just wanted to say congratulations before you leave." She stole me playfully from Peter's arms, and as we hugged I saw there was a tear in her eye. But she was smiling.

"Have fun on your honeymoon, Mrs. Catherine Thomas. I'll miss you."

"It's only for a week!" I laughed. "And it's only to Hawaii. I'll be back before you know it."

"I know. I'll just miss you, that's all."

She started to pull away but I held her tight, whispering to her softly now so Peter couldn't hear. "Did you do it?"

Kim nodded. "I put it on the table, just like you asked," she whispered. "What's in it, anyway?"

I blushed. "Nothing. Just a little gift for Peter." I thought of it sitting up there on the table in our bridal suite and felt a shiver of excitement and dread. I'd double wrapped it and tied it tight with not one but two silken ribbons, just so Kim wouldn't have a chance in the world of sneaking a peek. I would just die if she knew what was in it.

Kim scowled at my non answer, then smiled and hugged me tighter. "Promise me you'll tell me everything when you get back?"

"I promise." I felt guilty for lying to her. I was certain that I wouldn't be able to tell her quite everything, even if she was my best friend. Not about the gift, and what I hoped would follow.

We parted ways with a final hug, and when Kim was gone I turned back to Peter. He was smiling. And, god, so handsome.

"So, ready for bed?"

"I'm not sleepy," I said with a smile.

"Well... want to go upstairs anyway?"

I hugged Peter tight and kissed him deeply. "Yes, Peter. More than you can know."

* * *

It didn't even really begin to sink in until the hotel elevator doors closed, and Peter and I were alone for the first time all day. The wedding, the photos, the reception ... not once had we been really, truly alone. Now as the elevator doors dinged shut I turned and hugged Peter close, smiling up at him, feeling a flood of love for him such as I'd never

quite felt before. He was the only man I'd ever really loved, the only man I'd ever wanted

to marry. He was my best friend, my one and only true love, my most intimate lover... and now my beloved husband. My beloved, sexy husband. God, he looked so handsome in his tuxedo. So tall and cute and sexy. I'd lusted for him all through the ceremony, and the reception, and the dancing. And now...

As the elevator rose silently I hugged Peter tighter and kissed him. "Will you really?" I asked him hopefully.

Peter smiled curiously. "Will I what?"

"Love me forever."

Peter slipped his arms around me and pulled me closer, his smile widening. "For ever and ever and ever."

As he kissed me again I hugged him still tighter, crushing his body against mine. I could feel his love for me, and his lust. It was hard against my belly through our clothes.

I'd felt it all through the reception, every time we'd danced close or hugged or brushed against each other. I hadn't been able to do anything about it with all our friends and family around, but now in the privacy of the elevator I couldn't help but slip my hand down and squeeze the bulge in his pants.

"Will you lust for me forever?"

"Without a doubt!" Peter chuckled. I loved his chuckle. I loved his laugh, his smile, the way his eyes twinkled when he was happy... the way his eyes gleamed mischievously when he was excited, like they did now.

"Want to tell me what you're thinking?" I asked.

"Just thinking of ways I could satisfy my lust for you."

I felt a tremor of excitement at his words. "I've a few ways in mind myself," I told him quietly.

"Oh? Do tell!"

I blushed. "I will... but upstairs. In our suite..." I would tell him then, and more.

Thinking about the "more" made me blush deeper still. Upstairs in our suite was the "more", the present I had prepared for Peter. The present with the note in it. Just thinking

about it made me shudder with excitement.

And nervousness. I still didn't know just how Peter would react, of course. At the altar I had vowed my love to him, and my body and soul, but upstairs in our bridal suite I

would be exposing them to him... more than I had to anyone else, ever.

"I still can't believe you actually wore this," Peter smiled, tracing the neckline of my wedding gown. I blushed. I couldn't believe it either. I'd never worn anything quite so daring, at least outside the bedroom. Standing up there before our friends and family,

vowing my love to Peter, I had felt such an embarrassingly exhibitionistic thrill that I was still tingling from it, even now in the elevator.

"So... you like it?"

"I love it!" Peter laughed. "And so did everyone else, I'll bet."

I blushed. I hadn't really done it for anyone else, or even Peter really, for that matter. I'd worn it for myself, and how it made me feel. Sexy, attractive, exciting... daring. Almost as if I were baring a part of myself -- a part deep inside -- which I had never let anyone else see. Until tonight, of course. Until the gift, and the note, which waited in the suite.

I slipped my hands down and found Peter's, clasping them tightly, leaning against him contentedly and watching without a word as the floors ticked off. We were almost there...

The Bridal Suite

Our suite -- the bridal suite -- was on the top floor. The elevator opened directly into a little lobby that was all our own. It was here, standing before the gold gilded door to our suite, that I caught Peter's arm.

"Tell me again, Peter," I said softly. "Tell me how much you love me."

Peter kissed me gently. "I love you more than anything else in the world, Catherine. And that will never change."

It was delightfully calming to hear him say it. I knew it already, of course. Peter knew more about me than any other person did, and yet he loved me so deeply and accepted everything about me without question. He knew my hopes, my desires, my faults, my secrets, my fantasies... well, all my fantasies except for my deepest, darkest ones. And in a few moments he would know those, too.

"You know I love you too," I said, watching him seriously as he unlocked the door to our suite.

"I know."

"And lust for you..."

Peter smiled, and in reply he suddenly hoisted me in his arms as effortlessly as could be, carrying me over the threshold as he kissed me again.

In our suite I clutched Peter's neck tighter, my heart leaping. "Oh Peter... it's beautiful!"

The suite was the most sumptuous, the most elegant that I'd ever seen. I couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement, that this should be where we would spend our wedding night. In my dreams I'd imagined just such a place, but I'd never really expected it. I felt as if I were on clouds upon clouds as Peter set me down and turned to close the door.

Without thinking about it I moved through the room. Peter followed at my side as if enjoying my delight. The room was pure, virgin white, the chandeliers crystal, the walls

graced with lovely paintings and the tables with delicate vases. I ran my fingers over each

piece of ornately carved furniture, feeling a tingle of excitement. And the window... I

moved to the window, drawing the drapes back. Beneath us lay spread out the entire town, the lights twinkling in the night as if they were an extension of the beautiful room.

I shivered. I could see the lights of the university, where Peter and I had first met and where I would begin teaching next fall. I wasn't sure, but I thought I could even pick out the lights of the little campus chapel where only hours ago I'd stood at the altar and professed my love for Peter. And somewhere down there, invisible in the night, was the little starter home we had purchased, where Peter and I would begin our life together. A life which I now felt more excited about than ever.

As I stood there at the window, staring out into the night, Peter slipped his arms around my waist from behind, kissing the back of my head.

"So... do you like it?"

I turned in his arms. "I love it, Peter. It's perfect."

"There's more."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Peter smiled. He took my hand and led me, through drapery veiled glass doors and into the bedroom. I caught my breath. The bed was straight out of my fantasies, an ornately carved poster bed with canopy and sheer white curtains around it, drawn back to reveal white satin sheets and a sea of lace trimmed pillows. I shivered with a sudden,

fleeting vision of Peter taking me there on the bed, the satin sheets so soft against our skin and the curtains drawn shut as if enveloping us in our own little world.

Without a word Peter led me toward the bed. My heart fluttered. Oh god, he was going to take me straight into bed, and I wouldn't get a chance to give him my surprise!

And yet I couldn't speak, couldn't protest, couldn't beg him to please wait. All I could do was follow as he led me by my hand to the bedside.

But not into the bed. Instead he stopped me there, turned me and kissed me. "I have a surprise for you too, Catherine."

A surprise for me? I followed his gaze and felt a tremor of excitement, deep down inside me There on the bedside table sat a bottle of champagne in a bucket of ice, and beside it a delicate crystal vase with a single red rose.

"Oh, Peter...!"

"I wanted to have something for you," he told me softly. "It's hardly enough, I know, but--"

"It's perfect," I whispered. "Just perfect."

Peter took the rose from the vase and brought it to my cheek, caressing me gently with the petals before letting me smell it. Its fragrance was so sweet, so lovely, that I couldn't help but feel a shiver of excitement. Before I could say anything Peter followed the rose with his lips, kissing me deeply.

"Now, what about your surprise for me?"

I blushed. I'd been avoiding thinking about it, but now I just couldn't any longer. Without a word I took Peter's hand and led him from the bedroom, back out to the table where the gift lay waiting, just where Kim had placed it: a long, slender box wrapped so delicately, and embraced with two blue silk ribbons. And the note.

Peter started to reach for it but I stopped him.

"No, Peter."

He cocked his head curiously. "No?"

"No, not yet." I slipped my arms around his neck and kissed him again deeply, whispering to him. "Please Peter... would you help me out of my gown first?"

I could see the excitement in his eyes, the passion, the lust. I didn't have to ask him twice. Almost before I was done speaking he was searching behind my back for the clasps on my wedding gown. For a moment I thought they might be too difficult, that I might have to help him, but he managed. As they came undone, one by one, I felt myself flush with anticipation.

"Slowly, Peter... please?" I wanted to savor the feeling of his fingers, and the way my wedding gown sagged open in back as he undid more and more of it. He did it slowly

now, almost too slowly, kissing me gently as he worked at the catches. He was teasing me.

With my gown undone nearly to my waist, he slipped his hands beneath the soft fabric and caressed my bare skin. I trembled in his arms to feel his hands on me so, to feel him

searching and exploring with his fingers, teasing... tickling.

"Peter!" I giggled. "Cut that out!"

"I thought you wanted me to go slow."

"But you don't need to tickle me!"

"Oh. Sorry." But I could tell by the gleam in his eye and the tug of the smile at his lips that he wasn't at all sorry. He turned his attention back to the catches on my gown and soon he had them undone all the way down to the dimple at the base of my spine. For a moment his hands lingered there, drifting down to cup the gentle swell of my bottom.

Even here in the privacy of our bridal suite I blushed for Peter to touch me so intimately. And then before I knew it his hands were higher, on my shoulders, coaxing my wedding gown off. It caught briefly on my arms and with a gentle wiggle I freed it, trembling with

excitement as the silken gown slipped to the floor with barely a whisper.

Underneath I'd dressed simply for Peter, yet elegantly. My slender, cupless white lace corset, oh-so-lovely and nearly backless as well, so stiffly stayed that it bordered on

uncomfortable and was actually a little difficult to breathe in... but which, I thought, made me look exquisitely sexy, and so for Peter was worth it. The skimpiest, sexiest of thong panties, white lace, so dangerously narrow in front and creeping so high between my bottom cheeks behind that it felt as if I'd nothing on at all. White silk stockings, exquisitely smooth, with delicate lace at the tops and matching white lace garters that framed the lovely vee between my legs. Heels, sexy delicately strappy ones, tall but not too tall. A slender diamond necklace, my favorite one which Peter had given me for my birthday, along with matching diamond earrings. And, of course, my wedding ring. I was the perfect vision of bridal innocence, save for my lacy thong panties which covered nearly nothing, and which I now blushed for having worn.