Honeymoon (closed)

AntonTovaras

Really Really Experienced
Joined
Sep 8, 2012
Posts
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"It's time," Anthony said, glancing at his watch. "We have to get going now if we're going to make our flight."

"Yes, we're leaving tonight," he told his new bride, Elizabeth. "We had to change the reservations this morning, and I didn't have time to tell you." He made a gesture around the room, their wedding reception was winding down, most of the old folks had gone home. There were still a few people on the dance floor or by the bar, mostly in pairs, waiting to slip off. He kissed her forehead. "Don't worry about a thing, everything's taken care of, and tomorrow morning, we wake up in St. John."

He had allowed plenty of time for them to make their last goodbyes, and soon, he was escorting his new bride into the dressing room.

"The bags are already in the car," he told her. He opened the closet, where a dry cleaner's bag hung. He handed it to her. It held a tiny skirt a tanktop and a skimpy little g string, all white and trimmed with lace, and a pair of white stripper heels.

"You can't exactly board a plane in your wedding dress, and it's got a sort of bridal feel," he told her. "You're my wife now. I want you to look as sexy as possible when we start our honeymoon."

He grinned at her as he undid his tie and loosened the collar of his shirt. He looked at himself in the mirror. He looked normal enough, and he knew nobody would be looking at him with Elizabeth beside him anyway. He gave her a soft kiss. "The clock is ticking, baby. Get changed."
 
"It's time," Anthony said, glancing at his watch. "We have to get going now if we're going to make our flight."

The wedding had lived up to Elizabeth's dreams. Everything was perfect with the exception of the change in their flight. She had envisioned an evening in the honeymoon sweet, with her new husband tenderly making love to her. Yet for some reason, their flight had changed.

She danced close to him in her form fitting dress. "But we were supposed to leave in the morning." She kissed his lips. "So you are saying there is no chance we leave tomorrow" She kissed his lips. "Absolutely none???"

"Yes ...tonight!!! ," he told his new bride, Elizabeth. "...change the reservations ...... didn't have time to tell you......we wake up in St. John."

The last words of waking in St. John were what saved her from an outburst. She had so looked forward to this, her first real trip. She had rarely traveled when she was younger. The thought of a honeymoon on an island thrilled her.

She took the bag from him asking "What is this .. I have a bag packed with jeans and sandals." She looked inside seeing the lace skirt and tank top. She looked up to him wanting to ask if he was certain he wanted her dressed in the tight tank top and small skirt. As she looked further she had an omg moment as she saw the heels and g-string.

"Where do I change?" she asked only to be reminded she was not Anthony's wife. "Umm yah but ..."

He helped remover her dress, untieing the corsetted top allowing her for the firt time in 12-hours to take a full breath. She was exhausted, even so she lusted for him, a bit disappointed he had done little to take advantage of her as she dressed.

Finally she was dressed, the skirt was much shorter than anything she had ever worn, as same moved, her bare ass was teased by the skirt, the tiny g-string did little to protect her. As she stood looking at him she smiled at her husband. "I think you forgot a bra?" She quipped her arms crossed before her. She stood in the stripper heels, her feet beyond aching. Still she forced a smile for him.

"I am glad my father left an hour ago ... I don't think he would appreciate seeing me like this. She felt strange, for a moment as if she was an object. She had seen women dressed like this and never understood why. For a moment she felt the excitement in his eyes as he looked at her. That excitement only increased her own.
 
Anthony had done very well for himself, in large part because he was disciplined, but the temptation to take her then and there was almost more than he could resist. It wasn't that they hadn't before, they had, but she was so confused and conflicted that it had hardly been worth the effort of getting her into bed. Twice, they had truly mediocre sex that would have had him out of her life, except he had glimpsed a side of her that even she didn't even know.

She was more naturally submissive than any girl he'd ever known, with a strong instinct to please and obey. She was deeply Christian, and he believed that once she was his wife, her conflict and confusion would be easily swept away. He had no intention of wasting time, now that he was married, but he wanted to start off on the right foot. That meant denying himself and her, so she would learn right away who called the shots.

Despite a little disappointment, she did as she was told, and though she blushed when she looked at herself in the mirror, she didn't object. Much.

"I think you forgot a bra?"

"You don't need a bra, honey," he said, and reached out to cup her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples. "Your tits look magnificent."

"I am glad my father left an hour ago ... I don't think he would appreciate seeing me like this," she looked uncertain, but still excited, and he put his hand on her ass and gave her a good squeeze.

"I appreciate seeing you like this," he said. "And that's all that matters, now that you're my wife." He pulled her close as he said the last words, let her feel his stiff cock pressing against her belly as he hugged her. "Now come on, the car's waiting."

He led her out a side door where nobody would see them, and they climbed into the back of the car he had hired for them. Anthony had made sure that everything would go smoothly, and in a few minutes, they were passing through security, and then hurrying to the gate as quickly as she could move in her heels.

They sat down in first class, and the flight attendant brought them champagne. She was a few years past her prime, but Anthony could see she had been pretty once. She couldn't help giving Elizabeth a look. After all, he had dressed his new wife like a whore.

"We're just married," he said. "Just today."

The flight attendant nodded and gave them a smile. "Congratulations," she said.

As the other passengers boarded, more than one stopped to stare at her, but Anthony kept his hand possessively on her thigh, fingers softly caressing her inner thigh, teasing her constantly.

Finally, they left the gate, and soon, they took off. As they lifted off, and banked steeply up into the night sky, Anthony leaned over.

"You look so sexy," he whispered. "I'm so proud that you're mine."
 
"You don't need a bra, honey," he said, and reached out to cup her breasts, thumbs teasing her nipples. "Your tits look magnificent."

She heard Anthony's words describe her. "Tits" she thought, that word so rough, it was a word she never used. Now her husband had said the word refferring to Elizabeth. Instinctivly she used her arms to cover her breasts, trying to hide her hard nipples.

"I appreciate seeing you like this," he said. "And that's all that matters, now that you're my wife." He pulled her close as he said the last words, let her feel his stiff cock pressing against her belly as he hugged her. "Now come on, the car's waiting."

"Like this ... thank you" She responded not sure why. As he pulled her close she felt his stiff cock push into her tummy. Was that what she thought it was, simply the thought excited her. The idea she could do that to a man. She clutched his arm tightly as he guided her to the car.

As the newlyweds passed through security she struggled first to take her heels off and then put the heels back on. If she would have paid more attention, she would of noticed the men staring as she worked.

Finally in the plane, nearly the first on board, she shrunk into her seat, as she did, she noticed how little the skirt covered her legs as she sat, she tried crossing her legs which only made it worse. Still she wearily looked out the window, anticipating her honeymoon.

"We're just married," he said. "Just today."

The flight attendant nodded and gave them a smile. "Congratulations," she said.


Elizabeth smiled as she spoke, holding her hand as if to prove they were actually married. Though there was something in her voice and her look. The attendant again looked at her as she walked away. The attendant had a sense she was better that the newly married woman, who looked as though she worked in a strip club.

She took comfort in Anthony's hand on her thigh allowing him to tease the hem of her short skirt.

Finally the plane was loaded and the door closed. Elizabeth was nervous for the flight.

"You look so sexy," he whispered. "I'm so proud that you're mine."

"Thank you ....." She paused no one had ever called her sexy before. "I am so lucky to have married you Anthony." She paused before adding "You really think I am sexy? No man has ever told me that before .... I guess that is why I married you."

She snuggled close her head on his arm as the plane began to ascend into the sky.
 
"Thank you .....I am so lucky to have married you Anthony. You really think I am sexy? No man has ever told me that before .... I guess that is why I married you." She spoke slowly, pausing and thinking about what she was saying. He smiled to himself. She was such an innocent. He thought about the way she had covered her breasts when he called them tits, back in the room.

“So you just wanted someone to call you sexy, huh?” he said, teasing her gently. He looked around, but nobody was looking at them. The plane was still climbing steeply. He leaned close and whispered to her. “The first time I saw you, I knew you could be incredibly sexy. These tits. This ass. These thighs. This face.” He gave each of her breasts a quick squeeze, and let his hand drop to her hip. He pinched her thighs, playfully, and then lifted her chin. “You just needed to stop dressing like you were afraid of your body, and see what you do to me?”

He took her hand and brought it to his lap, letting her feel how hard he was.

“Every man that sees you is going to want you,” he said, he kept her hand in his lap. He clenched his teeth. He was so turned on by her he could easily have cum in his pants. “Their women are going to hate you, because their men want you. And you're mine.”

“Good evening ladies and gentlemen,” the flight attendants voice came over the PA. “The captain has turned off the seatbelt sign....”

“I want you so badly,” he whispered in her ear, letting his hot breath tease her. “Go to the bathroom. Go to the one all the way in the back of the plane, and when you walk down the aisle, look at the way the men look at you. Every single one of them is going to be staring at your tits, your ass, your legs and thinking about fucking your tight little pussy. My pussy.” He slipped his hand under her skirt and covered her pussy, fingers pressing through the flimsy lace of the tiny g string he'd given her.

“When you get there, count to fifty, and then let me in.” He turned her face to him and kissed her, letting her feel his need in the intensity of the kiss. He gave her a wicked grin. “It's our honeymoon, after all.”
 
“So you just wanted someone to call you sexy, huh?”

"No .." Elizabeth replied playfully. "Though I do like the comment."

“The first time I saw you, I knew you could be incredibly sexy. These tits. This ass. These thighs. This face.”

She had sensed something about Anthony, the way he looked at her, she sensed he had seen more than the studious nerdy girl. No other man had sensed that before, to most she was prudish, her intellect intimidated them. One thing that had drawn her to him was his confidence. Still the words shocked her a bit. "TITS.... ASS" were words she never used. She was certain he could see her surprise as he spoke them. Still she said nothing to stop him.

“You just needed to stop dressing like you were afraid of your body, and see what you do to me?”

"you never complained of how I dressed .... " She teased him. Then paused as she thought of what he was saying. He guided her small hand to his crotch. As she did she was thankful the men across the aisle had fallen asleep. The sensation of his stiff cock only increased her excitement and desire to have him. At this point the flight seemed so long. Still she squeezed his cock firmly. Afterall they were married, this was ok right.

“Every man that sees you is going to want you,” he said, he kept her hand in his lap. He clenched his teeth. He was so turned on by her he could easily have cum in his pants.

"Ah no one will want me." She played back, as her perspective of herself was never to be desired for her body. It was not in her upbringing, girls that lived the life of desire, needed to be saved and preserved. She gently squeezed, and for a lone moment felt in control. She had no idea just how close he was.

“Their women are going to hate you, because their men want you. And you're mine.”

"I don't want to be hated ......." Still the though of his words about men wanting her excited her. "I am yours .... till death do us part."

“I want you so badly,”

"Well it will have to wait honey ..... too bad our flight was changed .. or right now you would have had me." She quipped back at him, as she felt his hand slide under her mini skirt, deep between her legs, and the tiny g-string. As he pushed the silky fabric touched, her freshly shaven pussy. She bit her lip at the sensation, which made her feel like never before. In her life sex at best had been ok. Maybe it was the moment which created the pleasure she currently felt. Still the tip of his finger clearly felt her wetness and shaved pussy. The shaved pussy was to be a surprise for him on this night. She was mesmerized as he spoke to her.

“Go to the bathroom. Go to the one all the way in the back of the plane, and when you walk down the aisle, look at the way the men look at you. Every single one of them is going to be staring at your tits, your ass, your legs and thinking about fucking your tight little pussy. My pussy.”

Anthony was now fingering her as he spoke, she tried to listen, but the pleasure was fantastic. But why would she go to the bathroom, she did not need to. "Ohh really" She spoke out loud upon realizing what he was asking her to do.

At this point it was easy to see her excited nervousness. Her breath was quick and it was difficult to think with reason.

"No one will look at me" her confidence and playfullness gone from her voice. Still she sat motionless as if in shock.

“When you get there, count to fifty, and then let me in.....It's our honeymoon, after all.”

She returned his kiss hoping he would tell her she did not have to. Instead his hand departed her pussy, her breasts no longer getting attention. She sat for what seemed an eternity, simply looking straight ahead, hoping this was simply a dream. Her own desires reminded her it was not.

She looked at him, with a nervous smile and not a word, she moved to stand up, turning as she leaned forward, there was a clear view for Anthony to see down her tank top. She had not even realized this. Finally in the aisle she straigtened her skirt, tugging it slightly down, as she tried to maintain her balence in the 6" heels. She wanted to walk with her hands at her sides, holding the tight skirt down in place. Her steps were small in the heels, as she held onto the rail, under the overhead compartment. She knew doing this her skirt would raise slightly.

It was just like Anthony had said as she watched the men as she moved slowly down the aisle. It was easy to catch them looking as most the men still awake looked at her, not making eye contact but looking at her legs and breasts. As she looked down she saw her nipples hard. She even saw one guy sitting in a center seat nudge his two buddies to waken them.

Did men really want her as Anthony said ... or as she reasoned to herself, as she walked she was the only thing to look at.

Arriving at the back of the plane the flight attendant who had greeted them earlier was standing there.

"You could have used the restroom in the front of the plane" She told Elizabeth in a stearn voice.

"Uh ... I am sorry .... I do not fly much ...." she looked back up the long aisle "Is it ok though ... I really need to ummm ..." She paused and then entered the restroom, and fidgeted the lock closed. She could hear herself breath as she looked at herself in the mirror. What she saw was not the Elizabeth she new. In her mind she counted. As she did, she touched her own breasts through her top. Even her own touch was pleasurable. She desired sex so much she forgot to count. About a minute later she remembered and unlatched the door, she stood standing sideways in the small bathroom. How as Anthony ever gonna fit.

The door creaked, was it him , was it someone else. She could not bear to look and quickly turned her back to the door. Elizabeth had no idea how good her backside and ass looked in the little skirt and heels.
 
It was hard not to laugh watching her walk down the aisle, so unsteady on her heels, her skirt riding up to show a tiny glimpse of the bottom of her ass cheeks. Head after head popped out to watch her after she passed, and he was almost wondering if he should have walked with her. She looked so deliciously slutty that surely some of these guys were thinking of trying their luck. He would deal with that if he had to. For now, he was counting. At forty, he stood up. He came down the aisle quickly, and he saw the guys looking up and seeing him, knowing what he was doing. Some looked relieved, as if they were glad they didn't have to try to get the nerve up to go after her. A few looked disappointed. Most gave him a look mixed of envy and encouragement.

The flight attendant glared at him, but he smiled at her politely and pulled a hundred dollar bill out of his pocket. He slipped it into hers.

"We good?" he said.

She nodded.

He opened the bathroom door. He pushed Elizabeth forward, so her thighs were pressed against the little sink, and he slid in behind her. There was barely room to breathe, and he had to twist to reach the door and pull it closed.

"So," he whispered in her ear. His hands slid around her waist and pulled her top up over her breasts and squeezed them. His fingers pinched her nipples gently, and he nipped softly at her neck.

"Do you still think you're not sexy?" He let his tongue trace the outer rim of her ear. Her breasts were hot in his hands, and he kneaded the soft flesh.

"You should have seen them watching your ass as you walked past them." His hands slid down over her belly, finding her skirt and pulling it up, inch by inch, to her waist.

"Reach back and open my pants," he whispered. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you. Tell me how badly your pussy wants to feel my cock."
 
Elizabeth did not even look as he entered, in the small compartment she was pushed forward, her bare thighs against the sink, her face pushed into the mirror so close she could not see herself. His familiar musk confirmed it was her husband who had entered.

There ws no resistance from her as he lifted her top exposing her breast, for a millisecond her bare breasts touched the cold glass mirror.

"Do you still think you're not sexy?"

"Sexy " her lips quivered "I ... I am not like that"

Still her body craved attention from her husband. As he reminded her of all the men who had galked at her like she was a tramp. He told her how they had looked at her. As he did he lifted her skirt, not quickly but slowly as if enjoying every moment watching her, teasing her. Her desire for sex was exceeding any other time in her life.

Prior to this moment she had approached sex with caution, like it was to be feared. She knew sex was something she was not good at. She would lay on her back, the few lovers she had had would take her. Sex was never soemthing filling her mind, never something she craved. Until this moment.

"Make love to me." She asked him, barely audible to hear.

"Reach back and open my pants," he whispered. "Tell me how much you want me to fuck you. Tell me how badly your pussy wants to feel my cock."

Without a rational thought she let herself fall off balance as she reached behind her to work his cock free. Her breasts now pressing Anthony's hands into the mirror as she tried to keep her head from pushing into the mirror. She did not realize the sillouette created as her body arched pushing her ass back to him.

She heard his words "fuck you" in her mind.

"Please ... Please." Her hand pulled his raging cock from his pants. As it popped free his hot cock kissed her ass. "Please I need to make love to you." She whimpered for she did not know the difference from her past experience between making love and being fucked.
 
It was hard to hold back, but she had to learn. He shifted awkwardly, getting his cock down, between her thighs so it would press against her pussy.

"Tell me you want me to fuck you," he said, his voice getting a little steely. "You do want me to fuck you, don't you? You do. You want to feel my cock in your pussy." He pressed forward, pinning her against the sink, and he grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.

He rocked his hips back and then pushed forward again, cock sliding between her thighs. She had to learn. He pinched her nipple hard, and gave it a twist. It would shock her, but the pain wouldn't last.

"Say it. You're mine now, and you're going to start doing as you're told." He let his teeth press against her neck, and sucked hard, bruising her skin. No one would have any doubts where the mark came from.

"You're mine," he whispered. "You're going to learn to be sexy for me. Now tell me you want me to fuck you. You want to be sexy for me. You want to be my little fucktoy."
 
"Tell me you want me to fuck you.... You do want me to fuck you, don't you? You do. You want to feel my cock in your pussy." He pressed forward, pinning her against the sink, and he grabbed her hair, pulling her head back.

"yes please I want you inside of me." She craved the idea of having sex with him. Never in her life had she felt like this. Even in her heels her toes barely touched the floor now as he pinned her against the sink, pulling her head back by her hair, her body contorted and in his control. Her pussy still aching to be filled.

Elizabeth wanted him to make love to her. "Please Anthony take me fill me....." She begged. The word "fuck" was not in her vocabulary, Elizabeth was a good girl, she did not curse, she did not think devious thoughts, she did not crave sex.

She felt her husbands cock now between her thighs, a more experienced woman would have known how to move so that the cock would penetrate her willing lips. Yet Elizabeth was tense her body not having a clue how to move. "oooohhhhhh" she moaned as he twisted her nipple, sending a shrill of pain throughout her, the sharp pain raced from her nipple to her pussy.

"Say it. You're mine now, and you're going to start doing as you're told." "i ... I am your Anthony ... I am your ... your wife." She stammered as the pain ebbed from her breast. She then felt his teeth on her neck as he bit her slightly and then kissed her hard, sucking her neck, unaware he was leaving her mark.

"You're mine," he whispered. "You're going to learn to be sexy for me. Now tell me you want me to fuck you. You want to be sexy for me. You want to be my little fucktoy."

"Yes" she stated back. His whisper stearn catching her attention. Yet what was he saying to her. She had nearly begged him to have sex with her. Was that not good enough. Now he was confessing he wanted her to be sexy, beg for him to have sex with her and be his .....toy.

Her lip quivered nervously in an odd sensation of fear and sexual excitement. She had never seen this side of her husband before. Yet hours before she had commited to him, to love and honor and obey. She could hear her mother telling her to be the best wife she could be, that a good wife keeps her husband happy.

"I ... I want you to ..... f...." She could not say the word "Screw me ... Anthony ..... I want to make you happy."
 
“Say it,” he growled, tugging on her hair, roughly now. The head of his cock slid against her pussy, and he gritted his teeth, forcing himself to hold back. “Say 'fuck me, Anthony,” he said. He could tell she wanted it as badly as he did, if not worse, but of course, she had a whole lifetime of prudish thinking to unlearn. He slid his arms around her.

“I know you want it,” he softened his voice, just a little, and pulled her upright, so his cocktip slipped away from her pussy. He let the shaft slide between her lips as he rocked his hips. “It's just a few words. You can say it.”

He kissed her neck and shoulder, letting his arms press her back against him, strong hands holding her and caressing her.

“You're mine now,” he said softly. “You took a vow to honor and obey me, and I need to know that you can do that. I know it's not what you're used to, but things are going to change. You're mine now, and you need to learn how to please me. You need to learn to do what I tell you. You need to learn to be sexy and talk dirty,” His voice was gentle, his arms holding her close, making her feel safe.

“You're a good girl,” he whispered, rocking her back and forth. “You're mine. I know you want to make me happy, so you need to do this for me. Right now.”
 
“Say 'fuck me, Anthony,”

Elizabeth wondered if this was the man who had treated her so gently and kind. Who loved her for who she was. Still her eyes rolled back as he lifted her and the satisfaction of his cock being so close was deprived of her. She did not even consider her own animalistic desire to be taken by him. How was he resisting her.

"Yes I am a good girl .... a good wife." Those words were key. She was his wife. He again teased her pussy with his cock.

"F......k" she muttered trying to say the word which she had said only once in her life before, only to bring a swift and harsh punishment from her mover, a scolding how a girl like her did not use words like that. The word is evil. She was confilicted by her own emotion. In her heart she should have turned and told him no, asked him what he was doing. Though in her soul, unbeknown to herself, she was enjoying this, the feeling of the struggle, of being alive, her husbands desire, to not simply make love to her but fuck her.

Her soul was winning the battle to please him. She closed her eyes as if to protect herself, before loudly uttering the words.

"Fuck .... FUCK ME ... ANTHONY." Her words loud enough for anyone near the restroom to hear through the thin walls. To them the words were that of some slut begging for sex, the words excited and needing. Yet they did not see the struggle in her.
 
When she broke, she broke hard. And loud. Anthony grinned, knowing that at least the back few rows of the economy class would hear her screaming for him. He pushed her forward again, bending her over the sink so her face and breasts pressed against the mirror. He leaned back, as far as he could to bring the head of his cock up against her pussy. He rubbed it between her lips for a moment before he found the spot and pushed in.

It wasn't the first time he'd fucked her, but it was different. She was drenched, and screaming. There was no need to coax her and lead her and con her into it this time. Elizabeth, the girl who usually lay there, so wrapped up in her shame she hardly knew she was being fucked, was screaming for it.

He gave it to her, pushing the whole throbbing length of his cock into her in one hard thrust. She was so tight he almost lost it, but more than anything, he needed to make sure that this was the best fuck she'd ever had. Not just that, it had to be the best thing she'd ever experienced. He pulled back and rammed into her again.

"Elizabeth," he whispered, and slammed into her pussy again, and again. "You're mine. My pussy. My fucktoy. My wife. Mine."

He slipped his arms around her, hugging her tight as he fucked her hard and slow. Each stroke came just a little faster, and it was all he could do to restrain himself.

"You love my cock, don't you?" he whispered. "Be a good girl. Be a good wife. Tell me you love it."
 
Anthony's first thrust easily slid deep into her soaked pussy. Her walls were tight, even so she was so moist there was little resistance. As he thrust into her she let out a pleasurable animalistic moan. The hot sensation of his bare cock only increased her feelings, it was the first time she had a naked cock in her, the few other times she had sex, her lover would wear a condom.

Elizabeth was so lost in her pressure she could not even make out his words to her.

Her face was pressed against the mirror, her legs instinctively parted a bit allowing him more access. Elizabeth the prude was experiencing the best sex of her life, to her it seemed extrordinary. Though she was not even close to orgasm. She was loosing regard for anything but the moment, with each thrust she moaned, she wanted it, at this moment she needed it. For a moment there was no reasoning in her mind, no guilt about sex, but simple raw pleasure.

"You love my cock, don't you?" he whispered. "Be a good girl. Be a good wife. Tell me you love it."

"Yes yes yes ... fells so good. Make love to me Anthony" she quipped breathless, her mouth soon uttering another pleasurable moan as he continued to fuck her.
 
He slams his cock into her harder, faster, his teeth clenched as the slapping of his hips against her ass fills the room. He slides an arm around her waist to reach down and tease her clit as he pounds in and out.

"Say fuck," he whispers. "I know you want to be a fucking good girl, but you're my wife now. You need to be a good fucking wife. You need to do as your told. Say fuck."

Each time he says the word, he gives her clit a little pat, pushes his cock in a little deeper. He lets his teeth sink into her shoulder, holding her tight, not quite breaking the skin. The sound of flesh smacking is join by a louder banging sound as the sink she's bent over jumps in its base.

"You're my little fucktoy," he growls in her ear, giving her clit another soft smack. "Say it."
 
As his pace increased Elizabeths eyes rolled back in her head. His raunchy talk was foreign to her, she had never concieved herself being refferred to as what he was saying. Though something about him desirining her so much heighted her desire.

No as he said the word he teased her clit, only pushing her further into the woman he was sculpting.

"f ... ohhhhh" she moaned ... "ff ...F ....UCK ...f-----u .........Fukkkkkkkk...... ukkkkkkkk .... fufufufuck........fffffuuuuKKKKKKKKK." Her moans replaced with the word he craved her to say, her words now in unison with each thrust.

Still pressed into the mirror she did nothing to hold herself up .... allowing her husband to do as he pleased with her body.
 
He groaned when she obeyed, at last. At last, he could stop denying himself. He pushed deep, grinding his hips, his cock opening more of her than ever. Every time she said it, he flicked her clit, rewarding her. Every time he thrust deep, she pressed harder against the glass. He pulled back, then, and stopped, with just the tip of his throbbing cock between the lips of her pussy

“Good girl,” he whispered in her ear, and pulled her body back against his, one arm holding her between her breasts like a bandolier, the other rubbing her button. “That wasn't so hard,was it?”

“Look at yourself,” he said. He slammed into her, and his fingers fluttered quick and light over her clit. He watched her face intently in the mirror as he started to fuck her hard, lifting her off her feet as he pushed in. “Look at my beautiful, sexy little fucktoy.”
 
Her body quaked as he puled out and stopped, the tip just teasing her. Her body had betrayed her with lust for the erotic passion.

“That wasn't so hard,was it?”

She shook her head as her exhausted voice quaked "n... no" as she did her exposed breasts jiggled slightly.

Elizabeth opened her eyes, her face still close to the mirror, clouded by her steamy breaths. Still she saw something for the first time. She did nto recognize the women in the mirror. The women, her face begging to be fucked, her shirt raised her tight breasts with hard nipples, her tiny skirt, lifted to her waist, her delicate g-string pulled aside. Who was the woman she saw. Was this what a slut or whore looked like she wondered.

Then without warning he lifted her, driving into her, her feet off the floor, her breasts crashed into the mirror with a thud, she moaned, but not in pain but pleasure. The feeling of pleasure had far outdone, her discomfort and pain.

"Oh ... fuck me" she whispered airy and exhausted in a sexual feeling of lust she had never felt before.
 
He pushed his cock up into her one last time before he felt the tension in his body snap. He held her tight, letting her watch as his cock swelled, and his balls bobbed up and down as he started to cum. His cream shot up into her, filling her. He gripped her as though his life depended on her. His hips jerked, and as he started to thrust, cum churned out, gushing down her thighs.

“Oh God yes,” he groaned, teeth clenched, watching their reflection in the mirror. For what seemed like forever, he kept cumming, and then at last he felt his legs buckle. He was a puppet whose strings were cut, and he sat down heavily on the toilet seat, pulling her down with him, keeping his cock pushed up inside her hot little pussy.

His lips found her neck, kissing her hard as he felt the blissful weariness settling down on him. He loosened his grip on her, massaging her breasts gently.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Now that you're my wife, you're going to make all my fantasies come true.”
 
Elizabeth felt his grip, there was no escape, she had dreamed of the moment a man would actually fill her with is seed, still the feeling of his warm seed sent thrill thru her, one like she had never experinced. Soon there was something else, something that made her afraid, her innocence was spilling from her in a way she could not control.

She could no longer watch the girl in the mirror, shamefully she closed her eyes, as the man behind her finished, she felt each burst of his cock filling her womb. "Sex is not for pleasure" a voice filled her head. Sudden chill hit her thighs, as his cum spilled free of her lips.

She heard him bellow out, yet was not listening as shame and guilt began to fill her soul. His grip softened, still she felt he held her tight that she could not move. Though in all honesty she could have easily escaped the whithering man behind her if she desired. Soon she sat on his lap, his cock still invading her pussy. There was no longer any pleasure, her body so hot a moment ago was now chilly, her top lifted over her breasts, her skit at her hips, and the tiny g-string now uncomfortably soaked.

It had felt good, better than anytime in her past, the man who fucked her was her husband, so she wondered why she felt so shameful. Her eyes closed hiding the tears.

“Good girl,” he whispered. “Now that you're my wife, you're going to make all my fantasies come true.”

Now she heard his words as she reached up to nudge her tank top back down over her breasts. He spoke as if in control. He always had been in control, but his words a bit different at the moment.

"....." she tried to respond yet her voice was silent, finally she whispered "yes" softly confirming his reply. She thought to herself "yes i am his wife"
 
After a long pause she whispered “Yes.” He kissed her neck, running his hands over her breasts, through her top now that she'd tugged it down. This was new to her, he reminded himself. She had spent her whole life immersed in that morality of sexual shame that was so unique to American fundamentalists, as if wanting sex or enjoying it were wrong. It would be hard for her to learn to be the wanton slut he intended to make her, and the shame would always be there, a reminder of what she had been. Soon, there would be no pause, but she would need time to accept her new self.

“You've made me very happy,” he whispered. The depression in her mood was palpable, but not surprising. Soon, she wouldn't give a second thought to fucking him in a bathroom. He slid his hand down to her left hand, holding it up so the glittering diamond on her finger sparkled in the fluorescent lights in the bathroom. He tugged some paper towels out of the dispenser and held them around the base of his cock.

“Up,” he ordered her, patting her ass and giving her a little push out of his lap. He wiped his cock clean quickly as it slid out of her, and looked down at his pants with a smile. If someone was looking for cumstains, they might find a drop or two, but at a glance, they were clean. The mess dribbling down between his wife's thighs was another story. He grinned and tugged her g string back into place. Her skirt was still around her waist when he reached out and flipped the latch, unlocking the bathroom door.

“Go on back to the seat, honey,” he said. “Don't worry about the mess. That's part of your life now that we're married. You should be proud.”
 
Elizabeth sat on his lap, her mind in a fog. She did not even realize he was still inside of her. Her body filled with guilt and something she had never experienced and could not place. He urgered her up as and then unlocked the latch to the door. For a moment she paniced hoping no one would enter, seeing her standing htere her breasts and g-string exposed. Quucikly she pulled her skirt down, tugging enough the g-string showed on her left hip out the top of the skirt. Next she pulled her tank top down over her still hard nipples, the top displaying her.

“Don't worry about the mess. That's part of your life now that we're married. You should be proud.”

Guilt filled her soul. She heard his words gently telling her to return to her seat. She did not want to disappoint him. She pushed the door open slightly, thankfully she saw no one. Then she eased out. The flight attendant saw her rolling her eyes as she whispered to another flight attendant. The plane was rocking slightly from the turbulence, as she began the long journey back to first class. At first she tried to simply walk without steadying herself, though in the every high heals and her week legs it was impossible. Still she began the long journey, trying to stare straightahead to avoid eye contact with anyone. Still the whispers in her ears were loud and clear. For a moment she pictured herself as a passenger, watching the just fucked women walk the aisle. She knew what she would think and thought. yet she was the just fucked woman, the smell of sex in the air. She wanted to look back to see if he was close, afraid she simply walked the aisle. The marathon was over, she reached ehr seat, sloucing down so no one could see her.

She now stood as he spoke, feeling his seed oozing from her soaked pussy, her thighs now chilled by the wetness. If shecould have, she would have stayed there for the remainder of the flight.
 
He wiped himself up as well as he could with paper towels, and finally tucked his cock away and zipped up. She'd looked absolutely miserable when she left the bathroom, and he knew that the trip back to their seat had been a nearly endless walk of shame for her, but she needed to get used to it. She was his now, and he was going to do whatever it took to mold her into the woman he wanted her to be. He splashed a little water on his hair and smoothed it out, and then let himself out of the bathroom.

He smiled at the flight attendants, and strolled down the aisle, smiling happily. When he reached first class, he couldn't help but stop and turn to look back at the faces of the people who were staring after him, some with envy, some with disgust. None were at all uncertain about what had happened, she had howled loudly enough to make sure of that.

He sat beside her and kissed her softly on the cheek, feeling the heat of her shame.

"You did well, babygirl," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you."

He turned her face so he could kiss her lips, and let his hand fall to her breast, gently pinching her nipple through her top.
 
Elizabeth staired at her wedding ring, afraid to look beyond that. Maybe that was what she wanted, was to have her husband make love to her. But that was not tender love making, it was hard sex, fucking. It was suppose to be tender love making their first time as husband and wife. Still why had it felt so good, why did her body seem to enjoy it so much she had lost control.

She sensed him standing there, she was embarrassed, she was certain he would be disgusted with her for doing what she had done. She had acted like a sex crazed woman. Guilt filled her, yet her body still waivered on the sexual sensation she had felt. It had felt good, better than anything in her life.

Even as he sat beside her she wondered how he would accept her, how she could say she was sorry.

"You did well, babygirl," he whispered. "I'm so proud of you."

Still she was afraid to look, she wiped a tear from her eye. "I am so sorry .... for being like that .... I ... I am so embarrassed ..... I am so wrong." She muttered her words soft. Then his had gently turned her face she felt his tender kiss at the same time his hand bewteen them pinched her nipples. "ohhh" not in shock but in desire emerged from her lips. What had overcome her? She felt the urge again ... her desire ebbed was beginning to flow. Her unfilled complete desire wanting again. She crossed her legs, her short skirt rising high on her thigh.
 
“Don't apologize,” he whispered, rolling her nipple between her thumb and finger. “Don't ever apologize for pleasing me that way.” He kissed her again, sucking softly on her bottom lip, letting his teeth drag across the tender flesh.

“You're my wife,” he whispered. “It's never wrong for you to want me. It's never wrong for you to obey me.” He cupped her breast, kneading it slowly, her hard nipple pressed against his palm.

“I don't want some prude afraid to please her husband,” he said, speaking into her ear, letting his breath warm the insides as his lips teased the outer edge. He slid his hand under her top. “I want horny little slut that was begging her husband to fuck her in the bathroom a minute ago. Are you that girl?”

He pinched her nipple again, a little harder this time, twisting it until she answered. He rubbed it gently then, massaging the pain away.

“You're mine, Lizzy” he said. “I'm your husband and your Master. I'm the man you vowed to honor and obey. The sooner you accept it, the easier it will be for both of us. Open your legs for me, wife.”
 
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