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Tell us about your wedding night.
Before we can tell you about our wedding night, we should first tell you a bit about our wedding day. We had a church ceremony, followed by a very lavish reception. We hosted all of our close friends and family members, and after a sumptuous dinner we danced and partied with all the people we love most. It was the most extravagant bash we've ever attended, and we were the center of attention!
At eleven o'clock, the party wrapped up, and the afterparty began. Around thirty guests, mostly siblings, cousins and friends, accompanied us to the hotel suite where I'd spent the night before, and where my groomsmen and I got ready that morning. There, the celebration continued. We drank, listened to music, and caroused. As the night wore on, the dense crowd slowly whittled away, and by the time the afterparty was over at four o'clock, the only people still present were a couple of Jill's brothers. We let them crash there for the night. Jill and I headed to the opposite side of the hotel, and the suite where she and her bridesmaids had gotten ready before our wedding.
As she unlocked the door, I prepared to carry her over the threshold. "Are you crazy?" she asked me incredulously.
"What?" I asked. "It's tradition."
She pointed out that I was drunk, and likely to fall and knock us both unconscious. Or, less dramatic and probably more likely, throw out my back. In truth, I wasn't that drunk; I was definitely lucid, and so I stood firm: "Just for a second. I'll lift you, step into the room, and set you back down." I'm not sure how I convinced her that she was in safe hands, but she relented. Now, we're sure you're expecting, or even hoping, to hear that as soon as I picked her up I stumbled drunkenly and slipped, sending both of us toppling unceremoniously into our bridal suite, possibly with injuries. But in fact I did manage to maintain my footing and gently set my new bride down on her feet.
Wait - hoping? Were you hoping to read that? Shame on you.
Once the room door was closed, we sat down on the bed. We each told the other we loved them, and kissed. While it was a passionate kiss - despite the lateness of the hour we were certainly feeling passionate - it wasn't the sort of full-blown makeout session that you just know is going to lead to sex. That is not to say that we didn't want sex. We did. We always do. But speaking only for myself, it wasn't the first thing on my mind.
There are several reasons for this. First of all, we didn't stop having sex prior to our wedding. We know that pre-wedding abstinence is popular with sexually-active couples; our friends and some of our relatives took part in this before their own weddings and assumed we would do the same. We had no intention of ceasing our premarital relations; putting Jill and I in close quarters, giving us privacy, and expecting us not to have sex is ridiculous. Simply put, for us there was no point to abstinence.
Sure, there are those who insist that it made their wedding night special, sexier than it might have been otherwise. I suppose we could see it from that perspective had we retired for the night at, say, midnight as opposed to four o'clock. At any rate, the notion of wedding night sex was, to us, purely symbolic. We knew that sex on our wedding night would be fun, sexy, and exhilarating. But so was the sex we'd had the night of our rehearsal two days prior.
Make no mistake, I spent much of the day fairly aroused. In fact, prior to the ceremony I told Jill off-handedly that I wanted to have sex with her in the limo. (It didn't happen; even had we gotten a moment to ourselves, there was no way she was going to risk messing up her dress before the wedding.) It's just the way I am; I would be thinking of sex while in an audience with the President of the United States*. But that night, our priority was to prolong the party, and to bask in the feeling of love and togetherness - not just between the two of us, but our family and our friends as well - for as long as we possibly could.
We took off each other's clothes and got into bed, lying in a warm embrace. I was enjoying the buzz I'd been riding, and the sense of emotional well-being I got from being a newly-married man. I fully intended to drift off to sleep, then wake to early morning sunshine pouring in. The thought of starting our first full day as husband and wife put a smile on my face as I fell asleep.
"I'm going to need you to fuck me," Jill said. Though my eyes stayed closed, I returned to a semblance of consciousness.
"You want to?" I asked. I probably shouldn't have sounded so indifferent. I blame being almost totally asleep.
My eyes opened. "Hell yes."
"I just want you inside me," she said. "I know it's late and we have to be up early. I just want your cock inside me."
"Of course," I said, and moved her onto her back. I would indeed fulfill her request, though I had something else in mind first. I began with cunnilingus; she was highly aroused, her pussy wet, and very tasty. Long, slow strokes of my tongue over her vaginal lips brought her to the edge of orgasm. Her fingers tangled my hair as I slowed my rhythm, the sounds of her labored breathing filling the quiet room.
Despite my fatigue, I kept her on the brink of climax for around twenty minutes, her thighs pressing ever tighter against my face, her hands growing more demonstrative as she steered me where she wanted me to go. When I could tell that she needed release, I switched from slow strokes on her lips to more rapid flicks on her clit. She came explosively, writhing and moaning as her pussy ground against my face.
When she had come down, I asked her how she wanted it. She chose doggy style, and moved to the edge of the bed. As I stood on the floor at the side of the bed, Jill lowered her face to the sheets, and raised her ass up to meet my cock. I slipped inside of her still-dripping pussy, gripped her hips, and buried myself as deeply as I could go.
Jill moaned as she felt my cock slide against her G-spot. My thrusts were strong and confident, their profundity matched only by their intensity. I moved faster, intent on my own orgasm which I knew was not far off. I was tired, yes, but I wanted the sex to last. I wanted the whole night to last. I tried to distract myself - I don't usually think of baseball, but it was something like that - and managed to hold my climax at bay for another several minutes.
Soon, though, it became clear that I couldn't hold off my orgasm forever. Jill's pussy felt too good, her naked body before me looked too good, and the noises of pleasure she was making sounded too good. I gave in.
"Where do you want me to cum?" I asked breathlessly.
"My mouth," she said. "I want to taste it."
At that moment I announced my orgasm and pulled out. Jill quickly rolled over onto her back, hanging her head off the side of the bed. My cock plunged between her parted lips, her throat relaxing as she sucked me deeply. As I ejaculated, I moaned ferociously, suddenly forgetting that it was nearing five o'clock in the morning. Jill swallowed hungrily.
As we drifted off to sleep, I remember thinking that Jill's choice of doggy style for our first sexual position as husband and wife was further evidence that I'd found the right woman, and her initiative in finishing me off by mouth was moreso.
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*I would not be thinking of sex with the President of the United States.