The Virgin Wedding

As we held hands while we cut the wedding cake, I looked up at him and smiled nervously. CLICK! The camera caught us glancing wistfully at each other as we counted down the minutes before we could leave and start our honeymoon.

Alan was my new husband. We had finally gotten married after almost 7 years of dating. The wedding had been beautiful; all our closest friends were there to see it. But the wedding was over, and we were at the reception, waiting anxiously for all the ceremonies and flash to be over. Our vows had been said, the cake was being eaten, and all that was left on our minds was the wedding night, where we would finally consummate our relationship.

Alan was a virgin. He was one of the few existing men past their 20's who held on to this title, but he did indeed hold on to it. When we first met, I tried every measure possibly to get into his pants, but to no avail. It had nothing to do with religion; he just made a promise to himself when he was a teenager that he would wait.

I did not make that promise to myself, and I'll admit, before we met, I had gotten around, but when I realized I wasn't going to get him to shed himself of his virginity, I resolved to live a life of celibacy (if doing "everything but" could really be considered celibacy) with him.

So, here we were, 6 years later, on our wedding day, looking at the clock, wondering when the traditional activities would be over and the limo would come whisk us away from the wedding reception and take us to our comfy island hideaway in Hilton Head, South Carolina. It was supposed to rain all weekend, and we couldn't wait.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, my best friend Monica noticed the far away look we both had on our faces and made the final toast. We said our goodbyes and accepted our gifts, and practically ran to the limo that was waiting for us.

"So, sweetie, are you ready?" He asked, squeezing my hand, hard.

"I am, but I don't think you're ready for this yet," I said, smiling. The limo driver looked back at us and smiled. Alan closed the partition separating us from the driver. He grabbed my hand and places it over his hardening cock.

"Oh, poor Emily, underestimating me already. Don't do that. You'll regret it." He kissed my neck and started to undo the buttons on the shirt I put on after changing out of my wedding dress.

"Mmm, Alan, save some for tonight, you stud," I said, as he took a nipple into his mouth, biting it softly.

Three hours later, after a turbulent flight and a near confrontation with the hotel desk clerk who almost didn't give us our requested honeymoon suite, we found ourselves alone. My heart pounded nervously as he closed the door and we put our luggage away.

He sat down on the king sized bed and I straddled him, kissing him slowly, our tongues and lips meeting in a lustful exchange.

We stopped kissing for a second, and stared at each other intently.

It was funny. In the years we had been together, so many things had happened. I graduated from high school, we both graduated from college, get real jobs, made new friends, lost old friends, went through various health scares together (he was once in a horrible car accident, I was almost diagnosed with cancer), and we almost broke up half a dozen times. But now, here we were, husband and wife, and the only thing we had left to share was this one event. This one major step.

I looked at him and smiled, thinking about our next step.

"We don't have to rush into this, sweetie," he said, noticing my apparent nervousness.

We lay down next to each other, kissing and touching each other gently. He put his hand under my shirt, caressing me over my bra. I kissed his neck and pressed my body closer to his.

He took my shirt off and undid my bra with one hand, a skill he was quite fond of. He kissed each nipple, and then stopped to look into my eyes.

"Damn, Emily, you are so beautiful. I can't imagine doing this with anyone but you."

I smiled and kissed his forehead. He took that opportunity to suck on my nipple more, driving me crazy.

I took his pants off and stroked his legs and inner thighs. He stuck his hand inside my skirt, and found me with no panties. He smiled with approval as he caressed my clit, and stuck 2 fingers inside me. I moaned, and whispered, "I want something bigger than a finger inside of me."

Since I couldn't wait anymore, partially out of lust but mostly out of love for my husband, I whispered, "Are you ready? I don't think we should wait any longer." He nodded, and pulled me into a long, deep, sensual kiss.

With that, he lay on his back, looking out at me. I took the hint and silently got on top of him, carefully placing his hard as a rock penis inside me. We both gasped. It had been a long time for me, and I had forgotten what it felt like. I watched his face as we made contact. I watched his expression turn into a look of pleasure I've never quite seen before. It turned me on like nothing else.

It did hurt me at first, and I noted a little blood on the sheets, but as I slowly and rhythmically rode him, it came to me naturally. We kissed tenderly as we moved together, him filling me up, physically and emotionally.

He fingered my clit as we moved, and it didn't take long for me to have an intensely satisfying orgasm.

As I felt him about to cum, I got off him and took his hot penis in my mouth. He looked at me in surprise as he came in my mouth. I smiled, tasting myself on his cock. His cum tasted warm in my mouth.

This event opened up a whole new world for us that we would explore every chance we got. On the plane, in movie theaters, in the woods, everywhere we could find was a target of our newly found lust. We had been through so much together, and now we had been through the ultimate ritual of our commitment to each other.