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Part 5
The wedding ceremony was beautiful. It was everything they wanted it to be. All their families and friends came to join them in their special day. After a long day of socializing, it was finally over. They entered the bridal suite, their first night as husband and wife.
Rose petals were strewn across the bed, and a half-bottle of champagne chilled in a silver bucket. It was an image of perfect, romantic expectation. Ben’s deep, expressive eyes were shimmering with a mix of love and a desperate hope he could no longer contain.
He reached for her, his hands, so strong and yet so gentle, cupping her face. “My wife, Finally.” He breathed, the word sounding unfamiliar. Wife. She was sure she’ll get used to it eventually, but for now the word still felt weird. He leaned in, his lips capturing hers in a kiss that tasted of the sweet wine from their toast. His body pressed against the lavish volume of her wedding dress. His arousal was immediate and insistent against her hip.
Dawn melted into the kiss, her fingers tangling through his hair. She could feel his heart beating against her own chest. This, she thought, this devotion is more intoxicating than any touch. She broke the kiss, her lips traveling to his neck, tasting his skin. “I love you so much,” she whispered, “my husband,” her voice husky, the word sounding strange in her mouth.
Ben’s hands slid down her back, fumbling with the intricate row of buttons on her gown. “Let’s do it,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “Dawn, finally. Let me make love to my wife.” Wife. Again, so strange hearing it.
Each button he undid felt like the unlocking of a cage he’d lived in for the better part of a decade. The gown loosened, and he pushed it from her shoulders, letting it crumple at her feet in a heap of satin and lace. She stood before him in just a delicate white strapless bra and a pair of white stockings held up by a lace garter belt. No panties, he noticed with a gasp. Her perfect figure was bare in front of him, her skin smooth and inviting. He drank her in, his gaze one of pure, awestruck desire.
He reached for her again, but she took a small step back, her expression softening with a tenderness that made his breath catch. She placed a hand on his chest, right over his pounding heart. Dawn found that she was trembling. She knew what she had to do, but didn’t know if she could do this to him. Not again.
“Ben,” she began, her voice low and impossibly seductive, but also a bit sad. “What we did tonight… our vows… it was the most beautiful moment of my life. Or I should say – the second most beautiful. The most beautiful moment of my life was the vow you took, we took, when I turned 18. Today, you stood before everyone and pledged yourself to me, knowing what I am. Knowing what you are to me.”
His hopeful smile began to falter. “Dawn…”
“I love your sacrifice,” she continued, her eyes locking with his, holding him prisoner. “I love that you waited for me until I was eighteen. And I love, more than anything, that you have continued to wait for me just because it makes me feel loved. Today’s vows are important for the public declaration that it is. But the vows we took back then… They are important for our own private declaration of love. This untouched, perfect thing that is only mine to do with as I want. To keep as pure as I can.” Her hand slid down his chest, over the tense plane of his stomach, until her fingers brushed against the hard bulge straining against his trousers. He shuddered violently at the contact. “I just can’t stand to let it go.”
Ben was about to say something. To try and reason with her. But she stopped him before he could get out a single word. “Don’t you see?” she pleaded, her eyes wide and sincere. “If we consummate this… that beautiful, painful sacrifice ends. The vows of love we made end. The proof of your devotion… it becomes ordinary. It becomes just sex. And anyone can have that. It’s not special.” She paused, letting the horrifying implication hang in the air between them. “I don’t want us to be ordinary, Ben. I want our love to be… more.”
The hope in his eyes shattered, replaced by a well of hurt so profound it looked like physical pain. He shook his head, a barely perceptible movement. “Dawn… we’re married. You said… I thought that now…”
“I know what you thought, I know what I promised, and I’m so sorry,” she said, stepping forward again and wrapping her arms around his neck. “I did it to you once already when I turned 18. You waited all these years, only for me to pull the rug from under you after the finish line. And I’m doing it to you again today. I’m sorry. I’m really so sorry.” She pressed her body flush against his, and he groaned, his hands automatically gripping her hips. “But isn’t this better? Isn’t the ache you feel right now, this desperate need for me, purer than any release? This is your gift to me. And it makes me so wet.”
She took his hand and guided it between her legs. He gasped. She was soaked. “You see?” she whispered into his ear, nipping the lobe. “Your denial is what arouses me. It is the most powerful aphrodisiac in the world.”
He was crumbling, his resistance fueled by societal expectation and not by true desire. His true desire had always been her desire. His devotion was his arousal. He let out a ragged sigh, a sound of surrender. “If… if that’s what you truly want.”
“It is,” she whispered, her triumph hot in her stomach. “It’s what I need.” She began to unbuckle his belt, her movements slow and deliberate. “Lie down on the bed, husband.” Husband. She liked saying it. It still felt weird and new.
He obeyed, stretching out on the rose petals, his body tense with conflicting emotions of disappointment and intense stimulation. She knelt beside him, finally freeing his aching length from his trousers. He was thick and hard, flushed with a need that would now, once again, go unanswered. A single, pearly drop of precum already beaded at the tip.
She leaned down and swiped it away with her tongue, humming appreciatively at the taste. “My perfect, virgin husband,” she cooed, her breath hot against his sensitive skin.
She began to stroke him, her grip firm and knowing. Her other hand cupped his sac, massaging gently. Ben’s head fell back against the pillows, a strangled moan escaping his lips. His hips bucked involuntarily into her hand.
“Think about why you feel so good right now,” she murmured, watching his face contort with pleasure. “It’s because of your love for me. It’s because you are giving me this.” Her pace quickened, her thumb swirling over the slick head of his cock with every upstroke. “You will always be a virgin. This perfect, untouched thing that belongs only to me, while I go out and… explore, for the both of us.”
She leaned closer, her lips almost touching his ear as she worked him faster. “Tonight, before the ceremony, it was Sam. His hands were all over your wife’s body. Well, I wasn’t your wife yet. But on her wedding day. You know what I mean,” she flustered. Ben’s eyes flew open, wide with a shocked arousal that was so potent it was almost painful. “He took me from behind, right there by the mirror. He thought he was stealing me. He has no idea he was just creating new memories for us to use for years to come.”
Her words were a catalyst. Ben’s breathing became ragged, desperate gasps. “He’s got an ugly, crooked, dick, you know? Not like your beautiful cock. Still, as ugly as it is, his gets to fuck me while your beautiful one is just wasting away…” she mused. “I could still feel him inside me when I walked down the aisle to you, you know? I could feel his fluids running down my leg as I said ‘I do’.”
Ben was teetering on the edge, his whole body rigid, his fingers clutching the sheets. “Dawn… God…”
“And he may have been my first, all those years ago, but he was certainly not my last,” she whispered, her voice dropping to a possessive, husky promise. Her hand was a blur now, a tight, wet friction he could no longer resist. “There have been others, and there will be others. So many others. And you will stay here, sitting and waiting for me to create the memories that give us both the most intense orgasms together, all while you remain my beautiful, virgin husband. And you will love me for it. You know you will. You will ache for me. And that ache will be the most beautiful thing you have ever given me. Now come for me, Ben. Husband. Come for your wife.”
With a guttural cry that was torn from the very depths of his soul, Ben climaxed, his release pulsing over her hand and onto his stomach in hot, sticky streaks. His body convulsed, every muscle seizing before going limp, utterly spent and conquered.
Dawn brought her glistening fingers to her lips, tasting his cum, her eyes never leaving his. She smiled, a slow, deeply satisfied smile. “Now go clean up. Then it’s my turn.”
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