“Although I was tempted to give in many times to the demands of my boyfriends, I still remained a virgin until I was twenty-two. In this age of sexual freedom this makes me something of an oddity, I suppose, but I did hit the wedding bed sheets intact.
“William, my husband, didn't come to the wedding night a virgin because he had confessed to me, BRAGGED-I should say, before we married about all his affairs. It seems that he had been sexually active since he was sixteen when he took a trip to a cathouse, as he called it. If there had been a similar place for girls, I may have gone to one myself. How easy it was for boys to have said. All they had to do was scrape five or ten bucks together and they could buy themselves an experience.
“Once William gained confidence in himself and his ability as a man, he free lanced his way through women and girls with that staff of life. When I asked him if he ever wondered if he had impregnated one of them or not, he seemed grossly indifferent. 'I figure that any girl I fuck knows enough to take care of herself,' was his casual answer.
“For all I knew my young groom had fathered dozens of bastards, but I tried to pretend that he had been lucky and had met only those girls who were able to protect themselves.
“William more than made up for all the sex I had missed during my growing up period. Although I was a virgin on my wedding night, I had no fears about sex. I was only too ready to become a woman in every way. When I stripped off my clothes, I stood in front of a naked man in the nude for the first time, with my rose-red nipples stiff and pointy with sheet lust. William's flesh was also stiff and pointy. His penis was large and hard and, for the second time in my life, I grabbed a male sex organ.
“William pressed me against the bed and rubbed one of his hands over my pubic area. He didn't want to penetrate me right away, feeling that he had to arouse me first. I was already more than aroused but I let him engage in all the foreplay he wanted. It was his wedding night as well as mine and he, after all, was the more experienced.
“My groom licked both of my breasts and sucked each nipple. As his mouth worked on me, that stag picture of years ago flashed in my mind. Now that I had a man of my own-legally-I had the opportunity to indulge myself orally as well as in the straight way. I knew that William had nothing against oral sex and I had the strong urge to go down on him right then and there. How many virgin brides fellated their husbands before they were broken into?
“I didn't want William to think that I had had a wild sex life before marriage, so I resisted the impulse. As much as I wanted to be active, I remained passive as a good bride should while my husband sucked my nipples. For a moment I thought he was going to perform cunnilingus on me when he ran the tip of his tongue down to my belly button. But William finally mounted me and I felt the hard, smooth head of his dick probing against my vagina.
“He was a sure and careful lover and slid his pole of flesh into my body with controlled passion. It went in one inch then another. I moaned in a mixture of delight and pain. His penis pushed through my girlhood and into my womanhood. I felt my virginal blood rise warm and moist and William began his thrusting motions. Sex… at last.
“My husband rammed his meat into me with increasing fury. He wasn't losing control, but simply opening up more and getting into high gear sexually. My entire body tingled with excitement and my nipples were like little erected dicks themselves as they punched up against William's hairy chest. He kept pumping away with virile gusto and I dug my fingers into his back. Then he had an orgasm. His fluid shot into my body and I cried out with joy. I was a woman!
“William didn't try oralism until the fourth night of the honeymoon. I suppose he thought I would object to any such overtures in the opening hours of our marriage and so desisted until he realized I was anxious for fuller experiences in love-making. It began when he sucked my nipples and then ran his tongue down to my belly button.
This time he didn't stop there and went on to my pubic patch. He licked my sexual hair and then probed into my cleft with his tongue. William was an expert at cunnilingus and he knew just where to touch me. When the tip of his tongue swept over my clitoris I pushed my body up against his face in excitement. Once William realized I had no objections to French love he went into high gear again and sucked wildly. He slipped his hands under my butt, and as he mouthed me he slipped one of his fingers into my anal passage. I wondered just how many other girls he had loved in this way and was jealous. My old penis-envy made itself known again.
“I brushed my foot against my husband's erected sex organ as he mouthed and fingered me. As I stared at his sexual meat I had the urge to fellate him for the first time. William seemed to sense my desire, old lecher that he was, and turned his body around so that we were now in the '69' position of genitals against mouths. Without hesitation I took my husband's stiff staff orally as if I had been doing it for years. Once more that stag picture flashed in my mind. I had missed the opportunity to French a boy when I was a teenager, but now, as a married woman, I could safely enjoy the oral sex.
“William's tube of meat was so long and large that I could not take it all in even though I all but choked on it. I slid my mouth up and down along his organ as he chewed on my pubic area. My husband groaned a bit and then shot his sperm. I had all but forgotten about this part of fellatio.
“When the male juice filled my mouth I drew back for a moment in shock. Then, after swallowing, I continued to mouth my husband until he poured all his sperm into me. I kept fellating him until his tube of flesh grew small and limp once more. When I broke contact William sat up in bed and smiled. 'You mean you've never had any sex before we married?' he smiled.
“I told him about that brief moment with a boy in a basement and I wasn't sure if he believed me or not. In a way, this was a compliment to my sexual ability since I had mouthed him to utter satisfaction even though it was my first attempt at French love.
“Life and love were good to us and we prospered. I never became pregnant but neither of us minded that much. We were free to travel anytime we wished and became jet-setters. I didn't know if William was sterile or if I was the one who was barren, but it didn't seem to matter because we enjoyed life without the burden of children. We talked about adopting babies now and then but nothing really came of it. In our hearts we knew that we didn't want them.
“I gave my husband all the sex he wanted so he didn't have to stray. But William came down with a case of the Seven Year Itch in the third year of our marriage. Having always been excessively active with women he felt hemmed in with only one of them.
“You might call us a 'modern' couple because my husband didn't bother to hide his extra-marital affairs. 'Variety is the spice of life, Ellen,' he told me.
“I couldn't say that I remained married to him because of the children because there simply weren't any. Divorce, oddly enough, seemed to be no answer to my husband's adulteries. I still loved him and he loved me, but he wasn't ready to concentrate all his sexual energies in one direction alone. I suppose it was a compliment to me that he gave me three whole years of his life in the first place.
“As much as I loved my husband I developed a streak of hate against him. He could have sexual relations so casually without fear or guilt. All he had to do was whip out that meat of his and ram it into any hole he wished while I had to be more discrete.
“I considered adultery the moment I heard about my husband's affairs, but, somehow, I couldn't permit myself the pleasure of other men's company. I had been a good girl before I married and twenty-two years of purity could not be dismissed so lightly. It was only after William's adulteries got to be so common that I decided to get into the game myself.