A tale of a terrifying wedding night.
By AarontheBaron. Listen to the Podcast at Steamy Stories.
Devout Believers Face Their Wedding Night mental struggles.
I took a deep breath and tried to calm the palpitations that were pounding through my veins. I was standing on the edge of a mountain, nothing but vast open space around me for miles. The height wasn't helping me relax, and for the hundredth time I silently asked myself why on earth I had wanted to get married on a mountain?
Then I saw her, veiled and gowned in white, gracefully descending the stairs towards me, and the world was made anew.
Okay, let me back up a bit and start at the beginning.
My name is Josh, and I am, well, let's just say I'm an average guy, reasonably good-looking and very solidly walking a middle path through life. Which is as much as to say I haven't got a lot of money, but I am not hurting either, and I'm certainly no heartthrob but I ain't ugly. I'm the kind of guy that likes to be in the middle of things, without being the guy out in front of everything.
Now that that is comfortably out of the way, let me present the real reason I wrote all this down, and the reason 90% of you are reading it: my wife.
Odd, how small a word that is: wife. And yet, it holds so much meaning,
· She's my lover.
· My companion.
· My homemaker and helpmate.
· My everlasting.
· My forever and ever, amen.
Not to belabor a dead cliché here, but she is also the kindest, warmest, sweetest, prettiest and funniest woman in the whole world to me. I've never known anyone like her, and to be honest I have no idea why she would want to share the world with me, but I sure ain't complaining.
How we met.
We met a couple years ago, courtesy of some mutual friends at a religious convention we both happened to be attending. She was engaged at the time, or at least was going to be, to some guy she had known for years, but from the moment I first saw her, well, let me just tell you about what happened.
I was travelling with a group of friends and family, and we had come from a couple states away to attend this convention. It was a weekend-long affair, and we had, of course, gotten a late start, so it was a couple hours into the meetings that we finally arrived at the event center. But that turned out to be the best thing that had happened to me up to that time, because the way the event was set up, after every couple hours they would have a short bit of live music, kinda like an intermission, while everybody got up and stretched their legs.
So right as we were coming in the back of the conference room, where it was kept kind of dark, the music was starting at the front, on a bright stage.
And there, standing alone in the brilliance of the floodlights, was Sara.
I didn't know her; I had never seen her before, and if she hadn't been there, at that moment, I probably never would have. But there she was, standing tall in a flowing black evening gown, a beautiful violin tucked under her chin. Her eyes were shining, and her bow was moving gracefully across the strings, and what I heard, the music that she coaxed from that violin, I have never heard anything so beautiful in all my life.
To be honest I had never really been into music that much: I'm more of a writer and artist than musician. Certainly never been too keen on the violin.
But that day, as those trembling chords wafted enticingly and poignantly across the room, I stood, transfixed, unmoving and unable to move. All around me the music swayed and danced, slowly, and on the stage she slowly swayed with it, her eyes now shut and utter peace upon her brow. I cannot tell you how long the piece lasted; but I stood there for a thousand years, like in Tolkien’s fantasy novel, when Beren first saw Luthien; and I knew.
I knew I had laid eyes upon the one, the only one.
And then, as the music came to an end and the spell was broken, my fledgling hope was dashed upon the rocks. No sooner had the crowd begun to applaud than a tall handsome guy sprang up onto the stage and caught her in his arms, laughing and swinging her around in a circle. I can still hear the silver tinkle of her laughter, surprised and delighted, and see the radiant smile on her face, and then all at once he was down on one knee before her, she had clapped both hands to her mouth, and the crowd was going wild as he presented her with a ring.
You ever had that experience where you are dreaming something wonderful, something that you want with all your heart, is just about to happen and you cannot possibly wait one more second, and then you wake up? And no matter how hard you try you just can't get back to sleep? Well, that's what happened to me. I felt strangely hollow, like a part of me I didn't even know existed had suddenly been taken away from me.
The remainder of that weekend was, well, a bit strange. I met her and was introduced, we shared some laughs and stories, and I found out she actually lived in the same city that I did. Ironic, no? Travelling all that way to find what was at home the whole time. I found out that I loved the violin, and she was keenly interested in my art, and after the convention was over we kept in touch, more or less, simply as friends.
The rest of the story is actually quite complicated and rather boring to be honest; it wound up not working out for them, he moved to another state and she stayed, we got a bit closer and became better friends, yadda yadda yadda. She went through some hard times, I went through some hard times, we helped each other out, and for about a year I just never could find the right time to tell her how I felt.
Then my Mom fell sick and passed on rather suddenly. And without dwelling too much on the pain of that time, let me just say that when she reached out to me in a moment of desperate loneliness, I blurted it all out to her, what I felt about her and me; and ran.
I know, I know, dumb move, but no one had ever accused me of being smart anyway.
Turns out, she had actually grown very fond of me too, and didn't previously think I was all that into her, which I guess tells you all you need to know about my communication skills. But the upshot was that we decided to give courtship a go, and see what happened. She was a bit hesitant at first, having already once courted with a guy, but they hadn't ever been really serious and I think she felt more certainty this time.
I knew immediately.
But it wasn't till around six months ago that I thought she might be ready.
Mountains Ahead.
There's a State Park in northern Georgia, a small mountain called Fort Mountain, that my family and I had always enjoyed going to, with lots of trails, cabins, a lake to swim in and some of the most breathtaking views in the South. Sara and I shared a love of the mountains, and frequently she and her folks had come down there too, sort of double-teaming our family outings. We also shared a love of figure skating, oddly enough; but where my appreciation for it was purely as a spectator, she had actually done a bit of skating herself, as an adolescent, and if I may say so was very good at it.
But I digress. Along one of the trails at Fort Mountain, there is a wooden deck that juts out over the edge of the ridge, giving you a magnificent panorama. But to make it even better, the way the trail winds up to it you can't really see what is waiting for you until you actually get to the platform, and then it just spreads out before you, like a map hurled from the hand of a giant.
For a fleeting moment, it makes you feel like you are flying.
Call me a romantic fool, but I had long decided that whenever I got married, it would be here. And so, on a chilly day six months ago, I sprung the question.
I had a little help from her younger sister, who I swore to secrecy and took into my confidence, because I wanted to make this moment as special as I could. Our families were both there, about a dozen of us altogether, and her parents were going to Florida for a vacation the next week, so I figured this would be the best time for what I had in mind.
I managed to get her sister on ahead of the rest of us, on the pretense of going to get some good pictures of all of us coming up on the overlook, and then, by a combination of cunning and blind luck, got myself and Sara to the front of the party.
No matter how many times you go there, the view is always just as breathtaking; but this time, I scarcely even saw it. My heart was pounding like I'd just run a marathon, and I was literally breaking into a sweat despite the chill, that's how nervous I was.
Sara didn't suspect a thing. She moved down the last flight of stone steps to the platform, looking out at the view with the usual wide-eyed expression that it always causes, and I had managed it so that we were able to get to the railing where her sister was before the others had quite reached the deck itself.
I knelt, silently, looking up at Sara as she looked out over the valley. The wind blew her dark hair back away from her lovely face, raising a flush on her cheeks, and she closed her eyes and sighed, apparently never dreaming what I was about to do. Her sister was grinning from ear to ear, snapping away with the camera.
I actually had to swallow, twice, before I could make the words come out, and then, just as I was about to speak, we heard a gasp from our folks, who had just seen us. Sara turned, and her eyes went wide as she looked down at me, wide and filling suddenly with tears. She put her hand to her mouth, and every dang word of the pretty little speech I had planned went right out of my head.
So, I improvised.
"Will you marry me?"
And the next thing I knew, her arms were around my neck and she was sobbing in my ear.
"Yes! Yes, oh yes! Oh, Josh I love you! I love you!"
It was only the wind, of course, that made my eyes start running. I mean, it was chilly, right? And then I was on my feet fumbling with the ring and she was laughing and crying at the same time, and her sister's grin was gonna split her face in two and our families were crowding around and hugs and kisses were flying. My Dad thumped me on the back, and I asked her's formally if I could marry his daughter, I mean I would have, if he hadn't grabbed me in the same kind of hug that her mom was giving her.
And when I asked her when she wanted to be married, she said she wanted to leave it up to me; so, like a genius, I said, "Let's do it right here, in June."
Matrimony
Which brings me right up to now, waiting for her to join me on the deck. I glanced around, for the thousandth time, at the little party of us: my younger siblings (I'm 26, and oldest in a large family), her Mom and sister, a few friends and a photographer.
Oh yes, and my Dad, who was actually going to perform the ceremony. I forgot to mention that he was a preacher himself, and very striking in his black suit.
It was a beautiful, sunny day in late spring. The sky was clear and blue and so very vast; all around the overlook the woods murmured and swayed in the balmy breeze, birdsongs drifted plaintively and the whole world buzzed with life and vitality. I reached up and fidgeted with the collar of my tux, they always make these things too stiff. Like I said before, I felt like I was running hard while standing still, and the height and the sheer vastness of the incredible view, wasn't helping. My best man, Jake, who was also my best friend, smirked at me as I shifted a little on my feet.
"Scared?" he asked with a grin.
I snorted. "You have no idea." Jake was a few years older than me and still single. By choice.
I closed my eyes for a moment, breathing a swift prayer for calmness, and when I opened them, there she was.
You all should know that as an artist, I can safely say I have never seen anyone as lovely as Sara, but at that moment, as she descended the steps on her father's arm, I felt like I was looking into heaven itself. Her white gown fit close to her slender body, hugging the perfect curves of her hips and full bosom, before falling into graceful folds to the ground. I noticed the toes of her wedding shoes peeking shyly out from the hem, and I had to smile inside: if I knew anything about her, they would be sensible, flat-soled pumps. She hated any kind of heels almost as much as I did.
The neckline of her dress was tastefully low, leaving her lovely shoulders bare and showing just the slightest hint of cleavage, but I barely saw these things as I caught her eyes, shaded a bit within her veil but still very plainly shining out at me. My own began to well up again as the tidal wave of emotions crashed over me, what can I possibly say to describe the feelings of that moment? It was life and joy and love and all that is good in this world, rolled into one incredible sensation.
"Wow," I breathed, scared to blink lest she vanish like a dream, and slowly I walked forward to meet her.
She was smiling, bashfully, as her father lifted the veil and kissed her on the cheek, and then gave me a strong but brief hug. He's a big man, and she takes after him, tall for a girl and just a little shorter than me. She glanced at me as I took her hand, and a lovely blush rose on her pale cheeks as she looked at the ground.
I led her to the preacher(my dad), standing there with his Bible open, and all creation sang around us. The ceremony commenced and grew more solemn by the minute.
", and do you, Josh, vow to take this woman to be your wife, to love, honor and cherish her as long as you both shall live?"
"I do," I said, my voice a bit higher and shakier than I intended.
"And do you, Sara, vow to take this man to be your husband, to love, honor and obey him so long as you both shall live?"
She looked into my eyes and smiled. "I do," she whispered.
"Then by the power invested in me by our mutual Faith, I pronounce you man," my Dad looked at me, "and wife." He looked at her, and I swear there was a proud tear in his eye. "You may kiss the bride."
It was our first kiss, we both were virgins, determined to wait. And it was sweet, but kinda awkward too,
And we were now married. She was a week shy of her twentieth birthday.
And now, the part you've all been waiting for! But first, hold up a second. A couple things I wanna point out.
Sara and I were complete virgins, never even kissed before our wedding day. I know that sounds crazy, but it was what we as Christians felt was the best way to do it. However, that does not mean we were ignorant of what we were going to be doing together, heck no. In fact, we had actually exchanged quite a few rather lengthy emails, discussing sex and marriage and what we felt was right and wrong, and being honest and frank with each other as much as we could.
Why do I bring this up? I guess just to make the point that we felt that communication was vitally important to our growth as a couple. Too often I have read and heard of young couples going into the start of their lives together with no clear idea between the two of them as to exactly what their intimacy should look like, which can lead to frustrations and disappointments right off the bat. And while I can truly say that there really is no teacher like experience, a bit of background work beforehand goes a long way in prep for the experience.
So, I suppose my advice to others would be to wait, as far as actually doing anything with each other, but don't be shy in talking about it beforehand. It can make all the difference in the world.
The rest of the day passed by in a bit of a blur. Partly just because of the whirlwind nature of such things, but also undeniably because of the anticipation that we both were definitely feeling. It was like the day was going by too slow and not slow enough, which makes no sense at all, but that's what hormones do, you know? I couldn't stop looking at her, and she kept blushing and smiling whenever she looked at me, which always made every thought fly clean out of mind. With the predictable result that by late afternoon both our families were doing their best to get on the road. And leave us to ourselves.
We had booked a cabin there in the park, and after staying the night we would be heading south for our honeymoon, which would hopefully be less stressful than simply trying to take off at once.
So as the sun was sinking into the west, we said our goodbyes and gave hugs all around, and Sara and her Mom were laughing and crying together, and my Dad grinned at me and shook hands, and then they were all piling into their vehicles there in the parking lot and driving off, and we stood and waved, bathed in the golden glow of the sunset, till they had gone around the bend, and finally, we were alone.
Alone together. What a delightful paradox. I glanced at her, so lovely it made my heart hurt to look at her, and offered my hand. She took it and we slowly walked back to our car, not saying anything, just feeling each other's presence.
I opened her door and she slid gracefully into the seat, and then I went around and got in.
I glanced at her. She looked at me.
"Hey," I said softly, as if meeting her for the first time. "I'm Josh. I'm your husband."
She smiled a very pretty smile. "I'm Sara," she murmured. "I'm your wife."
"You wanna go?" I asked.
She swallowed and nodded a little. Her hands were folded tightly in the lap of her dress, rustling against the satin as she squirmed a little. I know my heartrate was going up, and I had to take a deep breath to quell the sudden nervousness that hit us.
After all this time, we were gonna do it. Finally, no barrier stood between us, and with a rising tide of excitement I revved up and turned down the road to the cabins.
The Newlywed Cabin
The cabins were small, but very cozy, with a snug living room and open kitchen/dining area, serviced of course by a massive stone fireplace, and the single bedroom and attached bath behind. Before we got there, somebody in our group had already spruced things up, and even had a fire going behind the glass panels, to keep the heat in but let out light.
When we pulled in, I could see the firelight dancing through the windows, and something about the cheery, homey warmth of it gave me an idea. I shut off the engine and got out, opened her door and handed my blushing bride out of the car. She smiled at me again in the gathering evening, and I raised her hand to my lips.
"I love you," I whispered, and then, impulsively I bent and swept her up off her feet. She gave a little shriek and a laugh, and her arms went around my neck to hold her secure, which also gave me a perfect view down into the shadowy cleavage under her dress. I swung her up easily, she's very light, and strode up to the cabin door.
"I know it is only for tonight, but," I said, as I opened the door and stepped in, carrying her across the threshold, "welcome home, my love."
She looked at me and her eyes got teary in the warm light, and she buried her head in my neck with a little sigh. I carried her to the door of the bedroom, and as I set her down I saw that the end table lamps where the only lights on, creating a soft, warm light that was perfectly gentle.
We stepped into the room, her in that lovely wedding dress and me in my white tux, and just stood there for a moment, looking around. The silence was deafening, and I thought for sure she could hear the blood pounding in my ears.
The warm light played softly across her features as she quietly looked around the room. The skin of her shoulders and neck was so smooth, so inviting, I just wanted to kiss her and take her right then. But I was extremely nervous; this was the first time I had ever been alone with a woman, a woman I had a right to, and my mouth went dry.
She was standing beside the bed, kind of just looking at it, when I gently laid my hands on her shoulders from behind. Sara jumped and gasped, looking back at me with her blue eyes wide and dark, and the skin under my hands was so warm and soft and smooth,
"Hey," I murmured gently. "You okay?"
Sara nodded, shortly, looking back at the bed, and I could see her chest rising and falling quickly. I gently caressed her shoulders, and she let out a little moan as her head fell back.
"Just, take it slow, please?" she asked, her voice unsteady. "I'm, uh, a little nervous."
"Of course, my love." I leaned in and gave her a little kiss on the side of her neck, the feel of her skin against my lips made me suddenly dizzy. "We have all the time in the world."
She leaned back against me with a sigh, tilting her head to allow me better access to her soft, inviting neck, and I was suddenly very aware of her arse cheeks, gently resting against me.
Somehow my pants seemed to have gotten a bit tighter all of a sudden,
"Tell you what," I said then, raising my head to look into our reflection in the mirror that, only now, I noticed was on the other side of the bed. "Why don't we shower first, together?"
She caught her breath with a little gasp and bit her bottom lip as she nodded at my reflection. "I'd like that. But first," she twisted around in my arms like fluid satin and slid her arms up around my neck: "Kiss me."
Her lips were a heartbeat away from mine, and I could feel her breath as her chest began heaving again. I gazed deep into her eyes, and slowly lowered my lips to hers, and we kissed, a real kiss, for the first time.
It was indescribable. It was like heaven and fire and light and sound. It unmade me and forged me anew, the soft touch of her full lips, so warm and gentle, and it was like coming home and being left out in the dark at the same time, at once satisfying and yet leaving me voraciously empty and yearning for more.
It was like being re-born.
Her eyes drifted shut and she melted against me, a soft moan escaping her as I gathered her in my arms. She fit so perfectly; her beautiful body molded against mine as if we had been designed for each other. Her head tilted and our lips slid back and forth, tasting, yearning, drinking deeply of each other, until somehow my tongue touched her lips.
She gasped into my mouth and her eyes flew open. "What was that?"
I chuckled, or I tried to. In truth we were both breathing too heavily to talk coherently, and before I could say anything she glued her lips to mine again, open this time and tentatively exploring, and our tongues met and danced.
She whimpered, and my knees felt suddenly weak; she sagged against me and her lips writhed against mine, her fingers going up into my hair while I clasped her waist tightly to me, dimly noticing her breasts crushing against my chest.
I don't know how long we stood there like that, but it felt like an age before we came back up for air, gasping and panting and flushed. At least, she was flushed, a lovely blush suffusing her brow and bosom, and her lips swollen and parted, I imagine I looked about the same.
"Wow," she murmured, trying to get her breath. "What was that?" She giggled, and I chuckled breathlessly, and suddenly we were laughing in each other's arms.
She rested her head on my chest, and I wrapped my arms closer around her. We just stood, swaying gently, and then she looked up at me with tears in her eyes. "Thank you," she whispered, her soft hand caressing my face.
"Um, for what?" I asked.
She smiled. "For loving me." She cocked her head coquettishly. "You do love me, right?"
I grinned. "Always."
"Say it," she demanded.
"Say what?" I played innocent.
"Say you love me, dummy!" she mock glared at me.
"You love me," I said obediently, and then caught her off guard as my fingers raced up her flanks, tickling her soundly. She jumped and shrieked with surprise, laughing hard and squirming in my arms.
"Stop! Stop it!" she gasped, twisting and out of breath. She finally caught my hands and held them, and looked up into my eyes. I leaned a little closer and whispered in her ear,
"From the moment I first saw you, playing that violin, I knew you were for me. And I have loved you since long before that, I just didn't have a face to add to the soul I already knew was out there. You are my everything, my one, the woman I have been looking for my whole life."
I paused, and now there were happy tears in her eyes again. "I love you."
She looked so adorable, with her long dark hair up in the back but a few locks loose and flowing around her face, her bare shoulders gleaming in the gentle light, and a look of yearning happiness on her face. I caught her in my arms and swung her around, off her feet, the same way I had seen that guy do at the convention, and her lips met mine again as I set her down.
"Now," I said once we disconnected. "How about that shower?"
She loosed a quick breath, and nodded. "Typical man," she said, trying to sound cocky but betrayed by the breathlessness of her tone. "Just wanting to see me naked."
It was supposed to be a playful taunt, but it came out with a gasp and the tension suddenly rose exponentially. I knew she was nervous, but there was a wild desire in her eyes, a molten fire burning and desperately trying to get out. For my part, well, my hands were starting to shake a little as we moved toward the bathroom.
Just as we reached the door, I impulsively grabbed her arse through her dress, and squeezed, not hard enough to hurt but not gently either. She gasped aloud and her back arched involuntarily, as she actually bent forward a little. Her hands clutched at the door frame, and she moaned as I kneaded her flesh, probing and digging a little, and I could see her trembling.
She was completely vulnerable, and we both knew it.
My heart was pounding and my mouth had gone dry again. I had never touched a woman like this before, and my brain was going into sensory overload, and we hadn't even taken off our clothes yet. She looked at me over her shoulder, and the raging desire in her eyes was almost enough to undo me, but there was a look of fear, too, or perhaps just apprehension, that made me stop and lean forward to kiss her again. She was so delicate, so beautiful, and a part of me wanted to ravish her on the spot, to take her as mine and claim her deeply.
But I couldn't bear the thought of hurting her, and we had agreed to take it slow. I tried to think of her as a rose, a flower that needed gentle care and nurturing to reach its blossoming.
The bathroom was one of the most luxurious features of the cabin, and with good reason: this one was called the honeymoon suite, of sorts, and whoever had designed it had that in mind.
There were variable lights, that could be dimmed or brightened, and the walls gleamed softly with the golden ambiance of polished pine. A thick, soft mat rested upon the floor before the sunken bathtub, which was made of smooth flagstone and actually rested a little below the level of the floor, with steps leading down into it. And I didn't know this at first, but the stone walls around it had heating elements built in, because few things are more uncomfortable than a cold stone shower. It had dual sprayers and room for sharing.
The space wasn't really large, but there was room for us both to stand a few feet apart and be able to move around; and as we stood there and looked at each other yet again, it felt like there was a warm, comforting cocoon around us both.
Sara's eyes were dark in the soft light, and a very beautiful flush was stealing across her cheeks. It was time, and we knew it.
She reached up and pulled the pin out of her hair, and with a gentle shake of her head her lovely dark tresses tumbled down around her face. She peeked out of them as I shrugged off my jacket, and then loosened and removed my tie. There were hooks in the back of the door, and I turned and hung them up as she sat down on the toilet to remove her shoes.
There was something intensely cute about her bare toes, peeping out from under her hem when she stood up, and it distracted me as I kicked off my shoes and unbuttoned my shirt. Sara seemed to be trying not to look at me, whether out of bashfulness or nerves I wasn't sure, but I heard her gasp quietly as I pulled off my shirt and dropped it to the floor.
I am by no means a muscular kind of guy, but I do work hard and I don't carry any extra weight, and I guess it shows. I gave her a little smile and undid my belt, and her eyes got wide and she blushed furiously when I shoved my pants down and stepped out of them.
I stood still for a moment, in just my boxers, and tried to act like I wasn't scared clean out of my skin, no pun intended. But my heart was pounding and I had a hard time controlling my breathing.
Sara watched me with her wide eyes, and when I didn't move, she seemed to remember she was still wearing her dress. Languidly she turned, and, drawing her hair forward to expose the nape of her neck, she bowed her head a little and whispered, "Undress me please."
I gulped and my whole core clenched. I stepped up close behind her and oh so gently breathed on the back of her neck. She shivered and gave a little gasp, and I brought my hands up to the small zipper at the base of her neck. I swear the darned little thing got even smaller as I fumbled with it, my fingers suddenly too big and clumsy, and internally I berated the fashion designers who made stuff like this so ridiculously hard to handle.
But it was only a moment, and then I was watching, almost like I was someone else, as my hand was drawing the zipper down, slowly exposing a widening sliver of skin. She trembled as it slowly ventured southward, past the band of her strapless bra and on down to the small of her back, rounding the back of her black lace panties. Her hands instinctively went to the front of her dress to hold it up. The curve of her spine was so lovely, and my fingers, brushing against the skin of her back, made her gasp and shiver with every touch. I couldn't have spoken to save my life: I was breathing hard and fast, through my clenched teeth.
To be continued.
By AarontheBaron for Literotica