Mourning Becomes Joy

David parked the car and started walking to the honeymoon suite. He wondered about his bride, waiting for his return.

Nervous, apprehensive about the next few hours? Eager?

On his first wedding night, he had no sooner closed the door when his topless bride grabbed him, pulled him over to the bed and unzipped his pants. Grabbing his hard on with one hand and tugging at his family jewels with the other, she stroked the head of his dick with her tongue. His legs could barely keep him standing. After a few moments, she started kissing. Once it slipped in between her lips, he began thrusting. His groans told her he was coming. Pulling her head away, she tucked his cock into her cleavage. Hot liquid poured down her tummy. With his cock lying there between her breasts, she waited while he experienced his high.

His cock was no longer hard. His breathing had returned to normal. Jumping up from the bed she loosened her skirt and let it drop to the floor. Naked, she laid down on the bed, spread her legs, and pulled him towards her. “Make love to my pussy with your finger.”

He was hard when her screams of pleasure came. He thrust himself into her pussy, and hit her again and again, until he started grunting and groaning and emptied himself into her. “Please. Don’t stop,” she screamed. His finger started making love again and when he sucked on her tits, the screaming came back.

His erection returned while they ate a snack of cheese and crackers washed down with champagne. Setting her wine glass aside, she straddled him and eased her pussy over his cock. When they both were satisfied with food, she started riding his cock until it was satisfied. They tried to take a shower together and ended up making love there as well. The screaming and twisting and grunting and groaning and taking and receiving of pleasure continued until the first hint of dawn appeared.

That had been three years ago.

A year ago now he had gone through another door. On the other side was his wife and her doctor. He could tell she’d been crying. The doctor seemed uncomfortable. This was not what he had envisioned earlier in the day.

He sat beside his wife and clasped her hand into his.

“David, I’m sorry.” He fumbled with his notes before continuing on. “During the exam, I noticed a few things that didn’t seem right and ordered more tests.” He went on to describe what he’d found. “It is my recommendation you and your wife take a vacation. I can help you find another doctor if you need a second opinion. My own opinion is your wife has five, six months to live.”

His guess about Sandy was correct: she was a nervous bride. She was looking for a prince, but most men she knew fell short of royalty.

Sandy was the first of four daughters in her family. Her several male cousins and uncles lived far enough away that she saw them only one or twice a year, if that often. Until she went to college her significant interaction with males was limited to her father, whom she adored. Given a choice between partying with her friends to meet men or watching her younger sisters, she often chose the latter. Plenty of guys tried to get her attention through high school but she encouraged none of them.

One guy in particular, captain of the baseball team, came to mind. While groping her ass, he quickly discovered she was very skilled with her hands. In an instant she was twisting his hands backward to his wrists. The desire for self-preservation vetoed the desire to pick forbidden fruit. Her stance indicated she was ready to introduce his nether regions to her right knee.

“Sorry. I imagine that’s not the hand job you want. You’re not going to score a home run tonight. You’re not even going to swing your bat.”

After graduating from college, she started working in health care for the terminally ill, where she met David and his wife. His wife lived another two months after Sandy started taking care of her. Despite her pain, she seemed to be always smiling and when she had the strength, Sandy found she could listen to her stories all day. David, too, was pleasant to be around. Sandy was impressed with the way he paid attention to his wife. He obviously loved her very much.

Sandy could see she was failing rapidly and supposed the end would be coming soon. It was about a week and a half before she passed that she asked Sandy if she could talk with her privately.

“Sandy, I don’t think I have much longer. Short of a miracle, I imagine the doctor is correct that I have only a few days left. David and I are very grateful for the attention and care you’ve given to both of us.

“You’ve shared a part of your life with us and while there’s no reason why you should mention it, I get the impression there’s not a man in your life. Your love life is none on my business.”

“You’re right,” Sandy replied. “I guess I haven’t made any time for pursuing a relationship with anyone. Not that I’m being pursued at the moment.”

“Would you object to an arranged marriage?”

“An arranged marriage? You mean would I agree to have someone choose a husband for me? Would I be obligated to marry the person chosen for me? I’m not sure about that kind of idea.”

“In some cultures, you may not have the option of agreeing to the concept, let alone to the marriage.”

“Then you have something slightly different in mind?”

“Yes, I do.”

“I see.” Sandy was curious what her friend might be up to, but refused to believe anything would ever come of it. “Have you already chosen a husband for me?”

“I have.”

She was intrigued now. She felt this was a conversation between two high school girls, not two women, one of whom was on her death bed. “Are you going to tell me, or do I have to agree to marry this man first?”

“I’m talking about David.” She saw Sandy’s eyes open wide and the look of astonishment on her face. “David will need someone after I’m gone. I think you would make a good wife for him. And I think he would make a good husband for you.

“Sandy, you have been nothing but truly professional in your work when around me and my husband. I have no suspicions about you trying to seduce him and David has never given me any reason to think he’s cheating on me. But it won’t be long now before I’m no longer his wife. You’ve gotten to know each other outside the pressures of the dating scene. You seem comfortable with each other. Knowing each other as you do, you can choose whether to bring a discussion of marriage to your relationship. Perhaps you don’t agree but it seems to me this is much better than waiting to meet a man at a singles bar.

“If the two of you had met under different circumstances and were both single, I have no doubt he would want to date you and you would gladly accept his advances.”

“Tomorrow I will be moved to another unit, so your services as a caregiver will come to an end. If you desire to carry on a social relationship with us, we’d both be happy to have you around. David and I have had conversations about his future after I’m gone. I’ve even asked him if he’d like you to be his wife. He said he would like that very much. My guess is now that I’ve opened the subject, you feel the same way. Any comments? Am I being presumptuous? I hope I haven’t offended you.”

Sandy found it difficult to breathe. Her heart pounded in her chest. She had wondered whether she would see David again after his wife’s funeral. Thoughts of marrying David had never been a part of the wondering. Now that the subject was broached, she was conflicted about giving it any consideration. After all, David was still married. It didn’t seem right to be talking about this with the woman who was still his wife. How does one say “Yes, I, a single woman, would like very much to marry your husband?”

It took several attempts but she finally found her voice. “Does your husband know you are having this conversation with me?”

“No, he doesn’t.”

“Let’s keep it that way. I need some time to consider what you’ve said. Just to be clear. You’re asking me whether I’d like to marry your husband after you’re gone. Is that right?”

“Yes.”

“And you’re fairly certain he would like me to marry him?”

“I’m quite certain.”

“And if I decide I would, what then? Do I let you know my decision, or do I tell him I’m agreeable to his wife’s arrangement for his future.”

“Come tomorrow before I move to another facility. It may be my last opportunity to say goodbye to you. Perhaps by then one of us will know what to do with your decision.”

Sandy remained in her car for a long time after arriving home. At the moment she didn’t have a boyfriend. So how did it happen that she was considering a marriage proposal? A proposal not given by the man, but by his wife? She needed to talk with her mama.

She remembered a recent conversation with her mama. After she’d gotten over her embarrassment, she’d been able to laugh about it. Hopefully, there wouldn’t be any embarrassing moments tonight. A smile lit up her face as she thought about that night a few weeks ago.

Supper was over, and as he did several times a week, Papa got up, walked over to Mama’s place at the table, kissed her lightly on the cheek, and stroked her hair. “I’ll take my dessert in the bedroom, Lydia.” Most nights, after such an announcement, Sandy and her sisters never saw their parents for several hours. She decided to ask her mother about this ritual.

“Mama. Papa’s always saying he’ll take his dessert in the bedroom. You never let me or my sisters eat in our rooms. But I don’t see him take anything in with him. You also go in the bedroom a few minutes later, but I don’t see you taking him dessert either. When does he get dessert?”

Sandy saw that her mother’s face was getting red and at the moment she realized what the ritual was. Her own face turned red.

“Mama,” she said, in a shocked voice. “When Papa says that, it means he wants to get laid, doesn’t it?”

“Yes, darling, that’s exactly what it means. What’s the matter? Are you surprised that your parents are still getting it on?”

Sandy found it difficult not to stammer. “Mama, I know people are getting it on every day, including people of your generation. It’s just not every day a girl is consciously aware that her father is getting it from her mother. It’s just gross.”

Gross or not, her father had dessert in the bedroom every night for the next week.

Finally her nerves calmed enough that she could get out of the car and go inside. She found her Mama reading in the den. She described the conversation she’d had with David’s wife.

“Do you have any advice, Mama?”

“Ignore for the moment that David is a married man.”

“Ok.”

“Do you want to marry him?”

“Yes, I think so. He’s so comfortable to be around. Of course, I’ve only known him as a married man, and considered him as a married man. I’m not sure how I might feel about him, if he were single, or when he is single again. It seems weird to be talking about this when his wife is still living.”

“Could you fall in love with him after his wife is gone?”

“I think so. I want to.”

“Ok, let’s say you decide to marry the man. Can you be his lover?”

“I think I know what happens in bed Mama. Am I able to do it? I guess that remains to be seen, doesn’t it.”

“That’s not what I mean. On your honeymoon – will there be a honeymoon? When he’s making love to you, do you believe he’ll be making love to you, or will you be wondering if he’s making love to his first wife? Perhaps I should ask, do you think that both of you wish to be the other’s lover?

“Oh mama. I’m getting more confused, not less.”

“And finally, dear, are you certain you want this man for your husband? Or would you be marrying him out of some sense of fulfilling a dying woman’s wish? Do you wish to share his bed? Or simply continue to care for him like you’re caring for his wife. Helping him recover from his grief. It might be good to discover whether David has answered some of these questions for himself.”

Sandy didn’t sleep well that night. However, by morning she knew what she would say to her friend and her friend’s husband.

“Good morning Sandy. Did you sleep last night? Or did you toss and turn all night? I can imagine what I told you yesterday must have been a shock.”

“I got some sleep, but it wasn’t until a few hours before sunrise that my thoughts settled down enough to let me doze off.” They chatted for a few minutes about several things. When it was just the two of them, David hadn’t arrived yet, Sandy described the conversations she’d had with her mother the previous evening and the thoughts that kept going through her mind.

“So, have you come to a decision, or is it still too early.”

“I came to the realization that I was intrigued with your idea. I would be interested in a relationship after you were gone. Ordinarily, I would just have to wait and see what happens. Wait for him to go through the grieving, wait for him to get on with his life as a single man again. I would be waiting for him to make the first move but not know whether he ever intended to make a move. What you proposed yesterday cuts out a lot of the waiting and wondering, and offers the hope that there will be something to make the wait worth it.

“I appreciate what you’re doing for David, for thinking of me, and for your desire to bring the two of us together. You’ve told me he would like to marry me. Please tell him being his wife would please me greatly.”

“I think then we should have a meeting, the three of us. Since there’s not much precedence for how an arranged marriage is worked out in our society, I suppose we’re blazing new trails. It wouldn’t be appropriate for David to propose marriage to you nor for you to accept one from him. You’ve both told me however that you are interested in a relationship with the other. As your matchmaker, I think it would be good for each of you to restate to me in each other’s presence your desire to be a couple. It will confirm to both of you that the other one wants this marriage. Neither of you are left to wonder what the other is thinking or feeling. After I’m gone, you and he can work out the details of when the appropriate time is. How does that sound?”

“I agree. I think it sounds wonderful.”

“I think for this to work, you both need to hear the other telling me that you’re agreeable to this. Of course, you won’t be able to announce it or act upon it for some time yet. Are you ok with that? Or is it asking too much?”

“Are you OK with your husband telling you that he would like to marry me?”

“Ordinarily no. He is still my husband and will be until I’m gone, regardless of whether that’s tomorrow or six months from now. Short of a miracle, it will be only a few days. Until then, I’m confident you will respect our marriage. However, we talked through some things, including the fact that I’ve given David my blessing to love another woman after I’m gone.

In a few hours I will be moved to another care facility. I’ve already had to have my pain medication increased. I expect in a day or two I’ll no longer be aware of my surroundings, of you, or my husband. When David arrives in a few minutes, I need to spend a moment or two with him to let him know your decision privately. I will let him know the three of us will meet briefly. When that’s finished, I will say what will likely be my final goodbye to you Sandy.”

Sandy returned home with a heavy heart. Her mama couldn’t help but notice.

“Are you OK?”

“I said goodbye today to David’s wife. After I left, they moved her to hospice. In a day or two it’s doubtful she’ll recognize anyone. I imagine I’ll get a call any day now from David to tell me she’s gone.”

“And what about you and David? Did you come to a decision regarding our conversation last night?”

“Yes. The three of us, David, his wife, and I met together for a few minutes. At her suggestion, David told her while I listened that he wished to marry me. I then told her I wished to marry David while he listened. We thought it best to let the other know what we were thinking indirectly. Otherwise, things would be in limbo, unless David were to propose marriage to me directly, today. I won’t be seeing David again until the funeral. Mama, you can’t tell anyone just yet, not even Papa. When the time is right, David will call on Papa to ask permission to marry me.”

It was two days later that David called to let Sandy know his wife had died.

When Sandy met them, David and his wife had only recently moved into the area in order to get help for his wife. It wasn’t much later when David spent more time with his wife and less at work; his social life was non-existent. He knew very few people in the area besides Sandy and the other medical staff. His family was scattered around the country.

After six months of being a single man again, he had started a new job. He had spoken to a grief counselor on several occasions who told him he was making good progress in moving through his grieving and adjustment process. There was no one else to ask difficult questions if they saw him with Sandy. They didn’t know he’d been previously married, therefore no one would be wondering why he was dating again.

He called Sandy. “Can I meet with you sometime?”

They met at a local fast food business and ordered something to drink. They caught each other up on events in their lives since the funeral. The conversation was hesitant and somewhat formal to begin with but progressed to flowing freely and more intimate. They were startled to note that two hours had passed. The “elephant in the room” was fading quickly and disappeared completely when David remarked, “Sandy, I think our first date has gone well. What do you think?”

“David, I hope this isn’t our last date.” Her hand was palm down on the table between them. David laid his hand over it. After a brief pause, Sandy pulled her hand away, paused for a second, turned his hand over, and placed her hand in his and squeezed. When their eyes met, they both had tears in them.

“David, I want to wait for my wedding day for my first kiss.”

Sandy couldn’t wait to visit with her Mama. When she got to the house and was finally alone with her, she blurted out, “Mama, I just had my first date with David. I’m in love.”

“Do tell. Your first date and you already know you’re in love? Sounds more like an eighth grade girl than someone in her twenty’s.”

“I know it sounds weird and impetuous and all that, but there’s hardly anything in David’s and my relationship that could be called normal. After all, six months ago, we told each other we desired to be married to the other one, and would move towards marriage when the time was right. Well, today was the first day of the time being right. So, after six months of waiting I should be in love, don’t you think?”

“I think it’s wonderful. I’m happy for the both of you. What about your father?”

Sandy hadn’t thought about that yet but agreed he needed to know. And then he needed to meet David – invite him to dinner or something and introduce him as her boyfriend. Her father needed to know there was a David before he came asking whether he could marry his daughter.

“Mama, I can’t believe I’m going to say what I’m about to say.”

“What is it dear?”

“Mama, tonight, after supper, get up and kiss Papa, and let him know you’ll bring dessert into him in the bedroom. After you’ve gotten him laid, tell him about the conversation we had when I said David’s first wife had made arrangements for he and I to be married after she was gone. Would you do that for me?”

“Get your father laid? I’d do that for most anyone.”

“No Mama, talk to him about David. Getting Papa laid is just an excuse you can use to be able to talk with him privately. And in his moment of weakness, he won’t be able to be mad at you for not telling him sooner.”

“Can I have dessert, too?”

“Mama, that’s gross! Just be sure he learns about David. Otherwise, I don’t think I want to know what the two are doing when you have dessert.”

David met his Sandy’s father about a week after their first date.

“Do you know why it is I wanted to meet with you?”

“David, I live in a house with five women. Four, now that Sandy has moved out to live on her own. After almost 30 years of marriage, four births, countless diapers, four first bras, first crushes, and first breakups, there are times I don’t ask why about anything. I’ve learned to avoid the minefields associated with PMS and stepped in some as well.

Since you’ve been a supper guest in my house for six days in a row and since Sandy is the only one I know of that has a boyfriend at the moment, I’m guessing it has something to do with Sandy. Further, since a week ago I had some of the best sex with my wife I’ve had in several months, and afterwards see tells me about you and Sandy and your late wife – my condolences by the way – I sense a bit of a conspiracy going on here to be prepared for when you ask to meet with me and to give you a favorable response to a question you may or may not get around to asking me.

As I said, my wife, and later Sandy, told me about the circumstances concerning you and your late wife. I understand both of you deeply appreciated the professional care Sandy provided. You also cared deeply for her. Sandy says you loved your wife immensely all the way to the end. I commend you for that. I think you wife must have loved you as well, as best she could in her condition.

She loved you enough to think about your welfare and future. Rather than desperately cling to something she couldn’t keep, she arranged to have someone care for you after she was gone. To arrange for someone to care for you is one thing. To desire to provide you with another lover is something else. I’ve talked with Sandy. I believe you and your late wife treated her honorably and respectfully and that you have treated her the same way since your wife’s death.

Out of respect for each other, and from your desire to protect my daughter’s reputation, you both agreed to keep yourselves for each other as though you were engaged yet could not really live out that reality, except to keep yourselves for each other.

And now, I believe you are here to honor me as Sandy’s father to ask permission to take Sandy as your wife.

You have my wife’s and my full blessing.

I’d advise that you start breathing again.

And, if you’re here for some reason other than to ask if you can marry my daughter, then please forgive me. I’ve obviously misread several clues about what my wife and daughter have been up to lately.”

Sandy’s wedding was fast approaching and her Mama and sisters were busy helping her with the preparations. Sandy’s matron of honor hosted a wedding shower in her honor. After the guests left, Sandy’s sisters helped with the cleanup, admiring the gifts, and putting them away.

“Oh, look at this,” one of the girls shrieked! She was holding up nothing but what appeared to be several scraps of cloth which had no purpose but to hold some strings together. “I’m sure David will like this. Are you brave enough to wear it, sis?”

“Why even bother. He’ll only want to take it off,” another sister teased. Sandy’s face was a dark red.

The object of everyone’s attention was a nightie. It reached about as far as a mini-skirt, a very short mini-skirt. The sleeves were a solid, bright white material. The body was a colorless see-through fabric. There were no buttons. Two straps on either side could be used to hold the front of it shut. On the cuffs and where buttons would normally be was strips of a deep purple faux fur.

Her mother said nothing, but only smiled. When the excitement faded away, and her sisters were busy with other things, she quietly asked her daughter, “Are you brave enough to wear that on your wedding night?” Sandy’s face turned red again. “I’ll let you in on a secret. Your father isn’t the only one who has dessert in the bedroom. I get laid, too. Especially when I wear an outfit like that. I highly recommend dessert and if you wear that I can just about guarantee your husband won’t be the only one getting laid on your wedding night.”

After the wedding rehearsal, David drove Sandy over to her apartment to retrieve a few last minute items. She would spend the night at her parents’ place. They were done packing up, but Sandy wanted to wait for her roommate to get home.

“Are you looking down my dress?”

“Yes.”

“And what do you see?”

“I see two delicious pieces of fruit waiting to be picked. And I’m starving.”

“Well, you can’t pick them tonight. You might get a tummy ache. Come back tomorrow though. You can suck the juice and eat them then. I plan to spread my – to spread a whole table of delights and you can feast on me, I mean them, tomorrow.”

“You seem to be rather frisky for a woman who wants to wait for her wedding day for her first kiss.”

“I’m making sure you don’t get cold feet tomorrow, so I thought I’d let you get an idea of what to expect. Speaking of food, I’m starving as well. Seems like there might be a pretty good piece of meat pressing into my thigh. I expect you’ll want to serve it about the time you pick some fruit. I hope so. I certainly wouldn’t want you dining by yourself.”

The wedding and reception came off as planned. His bride’s first kiss was exactly the way she wanted it. His wife was already in the suite, probably taking a shower, while he parked the car. He planned to kiss his bride again as soon as got back to the suite. It definitely would not be like any she’d had before.

Sandy stepped out of the shower. After drying herself off, she looked at herself in the mirror. Was she ready for David to see exactly the same thing in just a few minutes? Would he like what he saw? Did every bride have these doubts?

One thing, well maybe more than one, but she wanted to focus on this one, that still troubled her was “getting dessert.” She was confident she understood what that meant. It meant her mother was getting laid. Technically, one couldn’t get laid without the other. So why did Mama hint that perhaps one might get dessert when the other didn’t?

There was a knock at the door. That would be David returning and she needed to open the door to let him in.

David tried to guess what kind of reception he’d receive when the door opened. His gut told him his actions in the next five to 10 minutes would set the tone for the remainder of the evening. He was quite sure Sandy wouldn’t be fishing for his cock as soon as he entered the room. He was confident, however, that with patience and some skill, she would eventually be fishing.

The door opened. Sandy was standing slightly behind it. She was wearing a bathrobe, her hair still damp. He suspected this was not the way his bride wanted to start her wedding night. Closing the door behind him, he took her hand, and pulled her close. Putting his arms around her waist, he whispered in her ear, “I love you.” Leaning back a bit to look her in the eyes, he asked if he could kiss his bride. “I imagine there’s still a few things you’d like to do to prepare for this evening.” She nodded in the affirmative. “I promise I won’t try to take the bathrobe off.”

Embracing her again, he kissed her once more, lightly. “It’s your wedding night, sweetheart. Go and get ready.”

She disappeared but returned a few moments later. “These are for you. I don’t want you naked when I come back. She turned to leave, shut off the lights in the bedroom except for one small nightlight beside the bed, and slipped into the bathroom, closing the door behind her.

David took the package that Sandra had given him. In it was a purple terry cloth robe. He changed into it and sat on the side of the bed to wait for Sandy. He was finally past an invisible barrier between the two of them. His thoughts about skill and patience to prepare Sandy for love making were simply excuses. He was the one needing patience to make love to her. Until a few moments ago, he couldn’t put doubts and guilt aside that somehow he was being unfaithful to his first wife. When he kissed Sandy, the barrier was shattered. He was freed to be intimate with her.

“Goodbye Pamela. You loved me well. I loved you, too. And now I’ve been freed to love another. Rest in peace.”

After handing the package to David, Sandy returned to the bathroom, shut the door, and took a deep breath. Excitement outweighed any fears she still had. She took the bath robe off and reached for the nightie. Her fingers were trembling while she fumbled with the straps to pull it closed. She fixed her hair, applied a bit of makeup and perfume, and opened the door.

She was standing just a few inches in front of him, between his knees. In the dim light he could distinguish between the nightie she was wearing and her body. What he saw took his breath away.

Sandy was a very modest dresser. She usually wore a dress with hemlines well below the knee. Last night had been the first time he could remember she’d worn something sleeveless and loose-fitting enough that he could see some cleavage.

He was looking at a very shapely body. He let his eyes feast upon her breasts, the not yet hard nipples, her waist and thighs, and finally the hair that covered her cunt. Was she wet? What pleasure he’d have groping and petting her to make her wet and getting the nipples erect! What thrills of discovery were hidden within her pussy!

There was a powerful temptation to take her immediately, like a child at Christmas who can’t wait to open presents. But, unlike what is often the case with a child, his goal was not limited to simply unwrapping the gift. He took his time to admire and appreciate the wrapping and the investment the giver had put in to preparing the gift.

Salsa dancing had its place but for now slow dancing was his choice.

Resting his face in her cleavage, he reached under her nightie to stroke her bare ass and the back of her thighs. Arousing. Being aroused. Giving her pleasure while at the same time receiving it through the simple touch of her skin. Reaching up to pull the nightie aside, he kissed first one breast, and then the other one.

Subdued sounds of pleasure escaped from her throat.

Fighting the urge to skip to the end of the dance, he went to its next movement. Repeat of the first movement with added color, richer harmony.

He pulled at the straps of her nightie and drew the material aside. Her breasts now freed, he kissed a nipple, and then began to suck on it, while he squeezed and fondled the other breast.A flick of the tongue. A pinch with his fingers.

Hard, erect nipples.

His erection ached for attention. He spread his legs to pull her closer and pushed his cock between her thighs.

His hands rubbed her back, slid down the backs of her legs and and then slid up the outside of her thighs. One hand felt up her ass while the other crossed over to slide down between her thighs. She shifted her position slightly to allow the hand more freedom. After several strokes he slid it up to the top, between her legs.

She was wet.

The sounds of pleasure were no longer quite so subdued and had the hint of impatience. Her body was starting to tremble.

Anticipation that demanded resolution. Restrained desire longing for satisfaction. Arousal.

Standing up, he guided one of her hands under his robe and brought it to the head of his hardened cock. She jerked her hand back, as though she had just touched a hot ember. He pulled her close to press her breasts into his chest. And French kissed her. He saw her eyes open in surprise, perhaps a bit of fear. For a moment, her back stiffened and he thought she might pull away. But her body relaxed.

Her tongue was now exploring his mouth wantonly, matching his desire. He guided her hand to his throbbing penis again. This time her hand folded over it and squeezed it. Her fingers started exploring. Circling the head. Stroking. Rubbing. Pulling at it to press it to her groin. Releasing her, he pulled the nightie of her shoulders and let it drop to the floor.

Sandy thought she might be reaching sensory overload. Thrill after thrill, tingling, shock, she lost her ability to describe the sensations coursing through her body. Just when she thought nothing could be better than her legs being stroked or being groped, he kissed a breast, then the other, then her nipples. Something deep within her seemed to come awake. When his hand reached her cunt, she thought she would explode. She wanted to scream with pleasure.

David had her sit on the edge of the bed.

Was this the beginning of what her mother called dessert?

Standing now between her legs, David pressed himself into her bosom. She reached up to open his robe. She held his penis in one hand, could feel his heartbeat, and began stroking it with her other hand. She heard groans of pleasure. The tongue in her mouth of moments ago, gone, and replaced by his erection. More groans. Sucking. Caressing. First tastes of his pre-cum.

She stood up and removed David’s robe. Both naked now, they pressed their bodies into each other. Skin on skin, groping, and sliding, without the use of their hands. Mouth on mouth, licking, kissing, devouring. Groin exploring groin, yearning for but not quite achieving union.

Laying down on the bed, she spread her legs. Knees pulled up. Pelvis tilted upward – the pussy’s invitation.

The arousal of groping her breasts, her erect nipples, her spread legs and the patch of hair between them, focused his desire and need for release. He was a starved man being invited to a feast.

“Enter me David. Make love to me.”

Lying awake on her wedding eve, she had wondered what it was going to be like to have David in her. She was about to find out.

A man making love to her was beyond anything she had imagined. She so much wanted to please David. It was obvious David liked to look at her breasts; she felt his erection while they had been cuddling at her apartment, waiting for her roommate to come home. But to be aroused like she was when he kissed her on the breasts, and groped them, and caressed her body? And more arousal when he started playing with and sucking on her nipples. And finally, when his fingers caressed her between her legs.

He knelt between her legs, positioned himself, and brought her legs up to rest on his shoulders. He paused to look at his bride, quietly caressed her ears with, “I love you, Sandy,” and entered her.

It was time for the slow dance to exit and salsa to take center stage.

Another shock coursed through her body when the head of his penis touched the lips of her vagina. On seeing David aiming it at her she was a bit apprehensive – would it fit? There were several short-lived moments of pain as it made its entrance; thankfully she had been told that the pain was normal for a first time experience. The sensation of him sliding in and her cunt swallowing it into her was simply wonderful.

They were united.

He paused to allow her body to adjust to his dick and to simply enjoy the moment as long as possible. He felt her squeezing several times. And he squeezed in response. He heard the sounds of pleasure.

He pulled back to enter again. “Don’t pull out yet,” she pleaded. Reaching up, she pulled on his ass to bring him back in to her.

“I’m only pulling back so I can slide in again.” He thrust himself into her again, this time just a bit faster and bit harder.

As he slid out and thrust himself back in again, that feeling deep within that came awake when he kissed her nipples, returned. And grew. And grew with each successive thrust. How much more could it grow before she burst?

“Oh yeah. Do that again. And again.” Whatever fear or reticence that lingered vanished. Goodbye to the “nice girls don’t do that” image. Replaced by deep carnal hunger. Insatiable desire. Scorching heat.

Every thrust was a bit faster and harder than the previous. Ramming with enough force to jostle her body, even the bed. The pleasure of the head of his cock slipping past the lips of her vagina, the rubbing of his rod as he thrust into her tripped a switch deep within. He’d reached the summit. A brief pause, Sandy crying for more. One more thrust, slamming into her with enough force to slide her body up the bed. The dam burst, flowed through his body, and found its release in uncontrollable spasms. He shot his juices into her, A deep groan, welling up from deep inside, escaped his lips.

Lowering her legs, he leaned over her to place a kiss on each breast.

Her lover had spilled himself into her. Content, knowing that her husband had made love to her. She had brought him his dessert.

David was resting quietly beside her. She could hear that his breathing had returned to normal. Thinking that he’d likely fallen asleep (she’d also been told that was a normal reaction of a male, and not an indication of boredom), she was about ready to get up to shower.

But the dance continued.

David sat up on one elbow. “Are you ready for your dessert now?”

She had been startled, and shocked, and surprised all evening. By things when two people share their bodies with each other. But this. How did he know about a ritual engaged in by her parents? She wanted to sit up and demand an answer.

A hand caressing her pussy and a mouth sucking on her nipple derailed that thought. A few minutes later, David was above her, laying on her. He was still sucking on her, but one hand was now rolling a nipple between two fingers, or squeezing it, or tugging at it. Several more fingers were rubbing a particular spot between her legs. The feeling from deep within returned again, where it had been when David came. She wanted to scream, out of pleasure, not pain, but limited herself to small, controlled, mini-screams. Whatever it was, it still continued to grow. Her legs began to twitch and now her whole body was shaking. Shaking with enough force to make it difficult for David to keep up the sucking and rubbing.

Suddenly, the shaking became violent, seizure-like, twisting and turning, and she screamed. And a feeling of euphoria washed over her.

And the knowledge that she had been served dessert.

David laid on his back. Content. Content for having made love to Sandy. Content for seeing her so relaxed lying beside him.

Sandy turned to look at her husband. Relaxed. Content. Erect.

This time she would make love to him.

She applied some more lube to his cock. Seeing him thrust it up at her thrilled her. She mounted his pole. She liked the control she had over how his cock pleasured her. She could set the pace. She noticed David’s eyes were riveted on her.

“What are you staring at?”

“Your boobs. They bounce while you slide up and down the pole.”

“What’s with a man’s fascination with a woman’s rack? Or her pussy? Would you be unable to make love to me if it were completely dark in here and you couldn’t see them?

“Oh I’m sure I could. Men have been conditioned to associate a woman’s breasts with sexual satisfaction. The breasts get it up and men like it up. In some parts of the world a woman is considered immoral if a man can see her armpits. Armpits do nothing for me.”

Sandy continued with her rocking on his shaft, twisting and bending to extract the maximum pleasure.

“Lean forward so I can grope your breasts.” He had been rubbing her inner thighs as she slid up the pole and pulling down on her ass as she slid down.

She saw that David’s eyes were beginning to glaze over. He was beginning to lift his hips, seeking deeper penetration. He was also going down while she was going up and vice versa increasing the length of each stroke.

Her clit was being hammered when he came up into her and she twisted herself to be hit with the greatest force possible. That same sensation from deep within rose up again, though rising faster than before. Every time she went down, a short grunt came from him. Now he was grabbing for her legs, groping at her breasts.

“Make me come, Sandy. It feels so good.”

She willed herself to come as well. Her own scream came again and as she writhed and twisted against his cock, a deep guttural OHHHHHHHH came from him and his body went stiff. She felt the hot liquid pouring into her. He made several more thrusts into her before his legs relaxed.

She rolled off, laid her breasts on his chest and folded her hand over his fading manhood.

When he awoke, she was kneeling in front of him again, sliding his erection back and forth across her pussy. He let her continue to play with it for a few minutes. He thrust it at her to let her know he was awake.

“Have a good sleep?”

“The best I’ve had for a while.”

“Good. I think he wants me to play with him.” She started rubbing harder and ran a finger around the tip. She kissed it and took it in her mouth. She kept up the rubbing with her tongue. When she saw the glazing over of the eyes again and felt him tugging at her tits, she pulled it out of her mouth to finish him. With the thumb of one hand, she rubbed the head of his cock. The thumb and forefinger of her other hand circled around his shaft to stroke it.

She watched in fascination as a fountain sprayed out across the bed and on to her legs.

“Why did you ask earlier if I was ready for dessert? Do you know about my parents’ ritual of having dessert in the bedroom?”

“Your father told me about it when I went to ask if I had his permission to marry you. Are you ready for dessert again?”

“I think we’ve served each other quite a bit of dessert already.” There was a pause before she continued. “Come, take a shower with me.”

Whatever else may have been the purpose of a shower, its result was nothing more than a repeat of how the evening started. Once they were in the shower and had liberally lathered each other with soap, David started kissing her on the back of the neck.

Once again their bodies were entwined and they fondled and groped and kissed, and writhed a grinding dance against each other until finally the fire of their desire was so intense that David turned the water off and the dance made its way to the bedroom. David carefully laid Sandy down on the bed.

The dance continued; one moment, his cock was grinding against her hips, the next moment it was grinding inside her. When he entered her, she yelled at him to kiss her on the mouth. He brought his lips to hers, she opened her mouth to him and kissed with all the effort she had. A chorus of whimpers and groans and cries of delight and satisfaction rose in a crescendo to a peak until writhing bodies reached their climax and went limp.

An exhausted pair of lovers fell asleep.

The first rays of morning twilight streamed through the window. He could hear the shower running. Opening the bathroom door slightly, he shouted, “Have you had breakfast?”

“Yes. I’ll be out in a few minutes. There’s a Danish and some juice in the kitchen.” Wrapping a towel around his waist, he wandered out to get something to eat and then crawled back into bed to wait for her.

She stood in the bathroom doorway. “Ready for more dessert?” He turned to look in her direction. She was wearing the nightie again, but this time it was open. Dashing to the bed, she sat above him, on her hands and knees, and dangled her breasts above his mouth.

Grabbing one in each hand, he fondled and kissed them. Guiding one to his mouth, he started sucking. “Do you know how arousing it is, coming to me with your nightie open, revealing your breasts, and then hanging them inches from my mouth?”

She reached towards his crotch and found his erection. “Well, I can certainly feel the effect. You’ve just started eating my fruit and already you’ve gotten it up. Do you know how good it feels to have your hot tongue digging at my nipples?”

“I think I have a pretty good idea.” He slid his hand down her belly and started stroking her pussy. “Feels to me like you’re quite aroused yourself.” His finger found her sweet spot again. Her dessert arrived. As she was lying beside him, he grabbed her hand and pulled it to his cock.

“Hang your tits over my face again and swing my bat for me” He pulled a nipple into his mouth again and raised his hips in anxious anticipation of her fingers and then dessert.

They held each other after that and talked for a while. About the last few months, the wedding yesterday, high school, trivia. Sandy realized David was poking at her again with another erection.

“Are you wanting to go again?”

“I’m ready. Are you?”

“For me to hang my boobs over you again? Or something else?”

“Something else.”

“Hmm. Does it involve your cock and my pussy?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’m up for it. You seem to be already up for it. What do you have in mind?”

“Kneel in front of me, pointing your ass at me. I’ll be standing behind you. I won’t be able to suck your tits this time, but you might like the different feel when I enter you.

“Get on your knees and drop your feet over the edge of the bed. Lower your head to the bed. I’ll use the bedsheet as a belt to tie around our waists so you don’t fly across the bed when I thrust into you. It’ll also help to penetrate further and hold.

“Ready?”

“I think so.”

Sandy wasn’t sure how this was going to work out. She liked being able to watch his approach to her, to have him staring at her breasts, to watch his face as he took pleasure in her, to have him kiss her, to watch his eyes glaze over and close just before coming, and to lay his head on her breasts when he was finished.

She could feel their hips sliding against each other, and feel his fingers searching for her vagina. He’s getting ready to poke me, she thought.

She could feel the head of his cock nestled between the lips of her pussy. The bed sheet belt tightened some more.

And, bang, like a missile, his penis shot in. He had been right. If it hadn’t been for the belt or if he didn’t grab her ass, the force would have shot her across the bed.

“Ohhhh,” she groaned. She wasn’t one to swear, but was close.

David hesitated to suggest entering her from behind but he was glad he did.

It took a bit of time to adjust his stance so that his cock was at the same height as her pussy; there was several aborted attempts at penetration. The effort, however, was worth it. His head was receiving more stimulation and it was easier to push against her and hold pressure against it at the end of a thrust. Since his whole body was rocking instead of only flexing his knees, he didn’t tire out as quickly. He found it easy to simply thrust but keep his arousal level down. He could last longer, which seemed to please Sandy.

He hit her again. And again. Each time she cried out; delirious with pleasure. Their previous love making paled in comparison to this. He was right. His cock was touching places inside her that hadn’t been touched the other times.

The arousal started rising, and the desire to push it as high as possible overcame the desire to draw things out. In his urgency to reach the top, he hit her harder and used the belt to force himself further into her. He interpreted her vocal responses to be positive, which only increased the urgency to satisfy both of them.

The belt tightened. Slam. And this time he held on to the belt to hold himself tight against her. He twisted and turned in her.

The belt went limp. His cock slid back for another shot. A tightening belt – slam. And this time he was groaning, too. “Baby, baby, your pussy is doing incredible things to me. Each time I slam into you, I think this must be the time I’ll come. But it feels so good that I hope I don’t. I want another slam. Your treasure seems to elude me, but the search for it is incredible just the same.”

And the thrusting kept coming, faster and faster. His groaning was becoming more urgent, he couldn’t get enough of her.

A pause. “He must have arrived at the peak,” she thought. “No,” she screamed. “More. I need more,” she begged. “I want more.”

Bang.

Bang.

Bang.

The scream of a woman. The scream of a man. The scream of two lovers.
Sizzling heat.

Writhing, twisting, grinding bodies. His dick and her pussy giving pleasure to the other. Receiving from the other.

The bed sheet went loose. He withdrew and fell on the bed. Spent. United with his spent lover.

Perhaps some people light up a cigarette after sex. Sandy called her mother instead, to let her know they had arrived safely at their honeymoon suite. She had a question.

“Mama, when Papa gets dessert, does he always fall asleep?”

“Most of the time, dear. It’s a natural physical male response.” No wonder he was already asleep. She’d kept him up most of the night and made love with him twice before mid-morning.

“Sandy, did you wear that nightie?”

“Yes.”

“Was I right? Did you get dessert?”

“Mama, it was wonderful. I had dessert all night long and twice this morning already.”

“That’s a bit more than a mother needs to know.” She paused, waiting to see if Sandy had a response. “Did you know your Papa bought me a nightie quite similar to that one for our fifth wedding anniversary?”

“No, I didn’t. I suppose now you’re going to go into detail about that night.”

“Well, only to say, you were likely conceived that night. Your birthday comes nine months after our anniversary.”

“Good bye Mama. TMI. TMI. Love you.”

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5 replies
  1. Upcomingauthor says:

    Long and beautiful. I find myself wondering back to when my wife almost died a couple of years ago. When the though had crossed my mind of trying to move on I couldn't accept it. I think it would be wonderful if a dying woman went out of her way to make sure her man had someone after she was gone.

    This was beautiful. Well written and delicious. Thank you!

    Happy Valentines day!

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