I love to think of myself as a cool woman. There are a few times in my life when I felt obstreperous. Papa always said being nervous is a sign of vulnerability. I think it’s trash. If I am having a particular feeling inside me, I think it’s sensible to express that. What’s the point of denying emotion that is messing with your peace of mind already? And how that sensation becomes our weakness just out of my capability of understanding.

I don’t know if I believe that or not, but most of the time I am tranquil. I don’t want other people to pick out any of my things and go with that. Even though I do nothing, I am the constant subject of debate at parties among both men and women.

Sometimes these disputes turn into denunciation and bitching, which I don’t need that in my life.

Ton points at everything from my hair to my toe, my lipstick to my shoe, dress to the pouch.

That’s the reason I go hard on myself, as I crave perfection in every aspect of my life. I don’t ever want anyone criticizing me or finding the error in me. They can talk as much as they want. I can’t close their mouths, but I don’t want them to find the real pitfall in me. We all have flaws, true, I have some too, but I try too hard to hide them from the world.

When I put on my wedding gown, I fell in love with it. I am getting married; I loved the thought of wearing my white lace wedding dress. I smile brightly in front of Hazel and Lyra; they were with me during my shopping for the dress. Then the actual event came. I walked down the aisle wearing my perfect attire, the perfect beam, the proper me, everything was fine, I was relishing my wedding until the kiss in the car.

I tease Brian about sex in different ways; I love seeing his embarrassing red face, the annoyance, even uncomfortableness. Those things were jokes, making fun of him, but now everything suggests a little bit more serious.

Not a little, everything is severe.

The way Brian kissed me a few minutes ago, I felt his craving or the excitement to get intimate tonight, which is reasonable. In fact, any newlywed would like that.

Today is our wedding night. We are a husband and wife; we are presumed to work on our vows, make our wedding a real thing.

But I am afraid I am going to lose everything to Brian. It’s not as if I am in authority of stuff in my life. Living with my papa didn’t truly provide that option for me, but I love to stay in power. I have plans for everything, from my college assignments to my household errands.

I know what I require, how I prefer, and how to achieve that, I love having these certain things in my control.

But I think I will lose them to Brian. The way he kissed me earlier is evidence of what he wants, he wants to gobble me down, and then sex. Thank god, I don’t even know how to react to that.

The porn that I saw over the years is so violent, and it assured me that sex would be painful to the point that it would tear me from the inside. I think that is one of the reasons I always tried to stay away from men. One thing can lead to another and then to sex. That’s how it works. My friend Veronica confirmed to me that then she lost her virginity to my bodyguard three years ago.

I should call her, talk to her, damn it, I should have. She is in Grece with her family enjoying the summer while I got married without telling her anything.

We talked all the time, still, I couldn’t inform her about my marriage to Brian McCoy. I know very soon she will get the news, and the second she will call me to swear at me. That’s not the problem right now to worry about. I need to think about what will happen when I get out of this bathroom to the bedroom where my husband is patiently waiting for me to continue where we left.

I put on the see-through red night tops that end in my mid-thighs, the satin red shorts do nothing to my long legs at all. Who put this outfit here?

I blow-dry my hair, take my sweet time before entering the danger zone. Brian is sitting on the couch, beer in his hand, he is going through his phone, his tuxedo jacket is on the bed, the bow tie is on the floor, a few buttons of the shirt are open, sleeves are rolled up, his dark brown hair is falling on his forehead, olive skin is shining under the florescent light.

This man is one of the good-looking men on this earth without a debate, and now he is mine, my husband.

“Are you done staring at me, talky?” Brian asks.

Suddenly, I realize what I am doing. I am leaning on the doorframe between the bedroom and the walk-in closet and gazing at the man ahead of him shamelessly; I am so busy ogling him that I forget the time.

I sit on the edge of the bed, deciding on the head to come up with a great excuse, but my stupid brain decided to go on a vacation at this moment, seriously help the girl out of this. No response, only the sound of Brian chuckling.

“I will take a shower.” He walks past me, and I sigh in relief.

I lie on the bed, close my eyes, all I need to do is to fall asleep, that’s it. When I open my eyes, it will be morning, nothing, no sex, no pain.

I smile at my million-dollar plan and pat my back; I tug the cover-up to my chest and close my eyes in order to sleep. The water running sounds wide opens my eyes; he is in the shower, and I can hear all the sounds, from the shampoo bottle moving to the sound he makes. Thank god, this is torture. I need to sleep to avoid any kind of physical contact with him tonight.

But I can’t sleep, I am curious now about him, his body, what he is doing there, I want to see him naked, thousands of thoughts about my husband come around my mind, and I can’t help but get more eager. This curious mind of mine will be my death.

Brian set into the room in his sweatpants, sans shirt while I am scolding my head.

“Are you sleeping?” he asks.

“Yes, I am dreaming of Chris Hemsworth,” I whisper. You fool, if you stay quiet and didn’t answer his question, that means you can escape tonight.

“Good. There is no sleeping for us tonight, talky.” Playful smirks bloom in his mouth.

He gets on the bed, throws away the cover from my body, and hauls me close to me, without giving me a second’s respite. His lips are on me.

This kiss is more intense than the one we shared in the car. I part my lips a little and he thrust his tongue inside me, I moan, my hands naturally go around his neck, I don’t even know what I am doing, it’s the way my body is responding to him. When he tugs the straps of my top from my shoulder, my dress falls, exposing my bare breast to show.

Brian starts going low, my jaw, my throat, my neck, my breast. He plants kisses all the way down until my breast comes, he takes my one breast in his mouth and sucks; he sucks so hard I lose my composure and scream.

His other hand pinches my other nipple at the same time, I moan and he bites my breast before his tongue, licking my second breast. A rough roar comes from the back of his throat. I take it as a green light of his enjoyment.

He starts going down again, my rib stomach, but stops when he comes to my waist. He pulls out the top through my head, gets down and discards his sweatpants before coming to the bed on his brief with a pack of condom, not one or two, the whole pack.

“Do you need all the condoms?” I ask. My eyes are still on the pack that he placed beside me on the bed.

“I think I need more than this.” He kisses my lips softly.

“I am a virgin,” I whisper.

“I’m out. I know, and trust me, you will love it.”

“How do you know that?”

“You know, I think we should sleep.”

“Aren’t you tired?”

I try to talk to him a little more, but he shuts me down by crashing his lips on me, at the same time working on my shorts. It takes him a few seconds before getting rid of my satin shorts from my body. Now, I am all naked in his bed, open for him to see, to do things he wants.

His finger goes to the private part of my body, between my pussy lips. Slowly he starts rubbing, creasing me. He wets his thumb, and the finger stops on my clits. I lose everything at that moment; he puts pressure on my clits, and his finger proceeds on my opening. First, it is one finger; the pressure is too much, but when he enters his second finger, I cry out.

“Brian,” I scream.

He kisses me, eats away my cries and screams. When he finally withdraws his fingers from me, I am so high on this sensation that I forget my surroundings. Did I just experience an orgasm? Is this called an orgasm?

I try to cover myself with my hand, but he pins my hands over my head, a dark shadow veils in his eyes when he gets naked in front of my eyes, his dick comes out from the cotton fabric, hard as steels and long and thick. This whole thing is never going to fit inside me. I can bet money on that, but that scared me the most. Seeing him that way, it comes to my mind that we are doing the sex thing.

The kiss is fun; I like that; I think I can keep doing that all my life with Brian, but the intercourse, I am not sure about that. I should stop him, tell him the truth of my nervousness, take some time to figure this out. Before I can open my mouth, Brian wears a condom and places himself between my things.



“I think we should stop here.”

I feel him on my opening, his fingers are on my clit, rubbing slowly, his length is smeared all over me again and again.

“Why?” As he demands, he is now putting pressure on my clit more than a second earlier. I forget everything as an electric pleasure washes over my body.

“It will be fine, honey. Don’t worry too much, relax for me,” he whispers after placing himself above me, putting all the pressure of his torso on his arms.

I nod slowly and he pushes inside me; I scream from the pain; he is not moving, giving me the time I need to adjust myself with his length. Tears slip down from the corner of my eyes.


“It’s okay. Tell me if it’s too much.” He kisses my temple, then starts moving inside me, pushing himself deeper.

“I can’t take it anymore.” I cry out in pain.

“Yes, you can, talky.”

He stops again for a couple of heartbeats before moving, and afterward, I am full, so full of himself, and I can’t even inhale the air without taking his manly perfume inside me. He is everywhere in me; I lose myself in him.

Brian starts thrusting inside me, slowly at first, but with time he becomes rougher, I yell from the top of my lungs, sweats cover both of our bodies, he groans from time to time.

I lose the pain and pleasure that twinkles through my body as I see the stars. And I finally have my first ever orgasm. God, that’s the sweetest little thing I have ever felt. Brian falls over me with a thrust, and I pull him close to my chest. I embrace him while feeling the sweet sensations all over me.

“That is the best sex I have ever had, Honey.” He murmurs and kisses my temple, lips, breast again and again until I fall asleep in his arms.

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