I still remember it like it was yesterday. At approximately 11:45 PM, one week out from our wedding day, the text came in:
Hey, are you still awake?
Yeah! I’m surprised you’re still up baby.
Can’t sleep. Too much on my mind.
I had driven 45 minutes back to my house from Katie’s place. Our place actually. The place she was making into a home for us. The place where I would be moving in with her two weeks from now when we returned from our honeymoon.
I wish you didn’t have to go tonight. I don’t think I could take this sleeping apart thing much longer.
Ugh, tell me about it. One more week. Then it’s just us. I. Can’t. Wait.
Can you talk on the phone or do you want to get to bed?
We had spent the whole afternoon hanging out. I was working around the house, doing some light trim work and other touch-ups. Meanwhile, Katie unboxed and unloaded even more of her stuff. We were both exhausted, stopping only for some pizza and a couple beers that afternoon. We very nearly fell asleep on the couch. Like most evenings that past month, it ended with me with one foot out the door, making out with her. The passion between us was intense, and neither party wanted to end it.
I had blue balls for days on end during our engagement, and tonight was no different.
Of course! Give me a sec.
I threw in my headphones and called her. She picked up instantly, her soft, sweet voice gracing my ears.
“Hey,” she said.
“I miss you.”
“I miss you too, baby.”
I could practically feel her smile through the phone as a little shiver of joy came over her. “I’m so excited!” she squealed quietly, even though there was no one but her and me to hear her. “One week from today, I get to be your wife!”
“And I get to marry Katie Lancaster. The girl of my dreams.”
“Not Lancaster for much longer,” she chimed.
“True that,” I said.
I thought about her lying in the queen bed we’d been decorating around for the past few days. I imagined how she looked with the phone in her hand. What she was wearing to bed. How her beautiful, wavy hair fell against the pillow. I could still smell her perfume on me. Still remember the taste of her cherry chapstick and the feel of her tongue tangling with mine.
“I’m…I’m really excited for our wedding night too,” she said, her voice taking a different tone. “I don’t know if I should tell you about it or keep it a surprise, but I bought some really hot lingerie this week. I can’t wait to wear it for you.”
I sighed as my hand instinctively crept south. The bulge was growing inside my sweatpants. “You can tell me…if you want,” I said. “It’ll still be a surprise, right? Seeing you in it.”
“But it’s up to you. I’m fine either way. Maybe more fine with the idea of you telling me though.” I laughed, hoping with all I was worth that she would tell me. I was in love with her and beyond mad with desire for her. My cock throbbed at even the slightest intentional touch from her back then. And now it was beginning to feel that familiar ache.
“Well…I’ve got a few outfits. So maybe I’ll just tell you about a couple.”
“A few?” I tried to conceal my excitement, not wanting to sound too desperate. The thought of Katie lingerie shopping for our honeymoon was driving me crazy.
“Mmhmm. Five actually. One for every full day of our honeymoon.”
“Is that too much?” she asked, sounding regretful.
“No! Not at all. I mean, it’s…it’s a lot. But a good a lot. Baby, I can’t wait to see you in it all.”
“I’m really excited to wear it for you.”
“I love you so much,” I said.
“I love you too,” she said. “Guess I shouldn’t keep you in suspense much longer, should I?”
“Baby, I’ve got all night. Take your time.”
She giggled. “Well, let’s see….For starters, I hope you like thongs.”
“Thongs are good.” I was grinning and hard, a mixture of foggy lust and schoolboy jubilation.
“Good. I mean, you already know I wear them a lot anyway.” That I did. My hand had been down her skintight jeans more than a few times since we had started dating. I was always amazed by the softness and skimpiness of the underwear she wore.
“These ones are more matching though. I got a couple lacey ones that coordinate with some really sexy bras I think you’re gonna like.”
“Wow,” I said. “That sounds hot. Really hot.”
I could feel her smile again. “I think so,” she said. “I’m, um…I’m wearing one of the sets right now.”
“Oh man, Katie, I wish I could see that. You don’t have any idea what the thought of that is doing to me.” I rubbed myself outside my sweats. I was thinking about her beautiful body on the other end, adorned in all that lace.
“I think I can imagine,” she said. “It’s why I wanted to call you. I was trying stuff on and couldn’t quit thinking about how bad I missed you. How bad I wanted to be with you.”
“Awwww…” I let out a frustrated groan. “I want to be with you too, baby.”
“Soon,” she said. “Oh, and I have on matching stockings too.”
“Stockings—wow. What color?”
“Pink and black. Of course, I got some white stuff for our wedding night—which I’ll keep a surprise—but this set is all pinks and blacks. It’s pretty hot.”
“I have zero doubt about it.”
“Are you…hard?” I felt like I could hear her biting her lip on the other end of the line. I imagined her with the phone in one hand, the other lightly caressing her body. Then heading down to rub her soft, smooth pussy over all that lace.
“As a rock.”
She moaned softly. “I wish I could see.”
“I wish you could too. Are you wet?”
“I’m…” She paused for a second. “I’m soaked actually.”
I swallowed, my head dizzy with lust. “Are you touching yourself?”
“Maybe…?” I took it to be a definite yes.
“God, Katie, should we be—”
She cut me off. “Are you touching yourself too?”
“Kinda,” I said. “Over my pants.”
“Just over your pants?”
“You can do more than that if you want to.”
More than that. How many months had passed now where I wanted to do so much more than that? With her, the two of us, together. I’d fantasized more times than I could count about how our first night together would be. I would cum hard, jerking myself in a hot mess under the covers of my bed.
I masturbated to thoughts of Katie at least 100 times. She had to know I did. But it dawned on me at that moment that we never actually talked about it.
“Baby, I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve touched myself thinking about you,” I told her.
“Really?” she asked, sounding surprised.
“Did you cum?”
I paused a second. How much should I tell her? But then I decided there had never been any secrets between us before and there sure as hell wouldn’t be now.
“Seriously? Thinking about me?” I could feel that smile again. “How many times?”
“Uhhhh…” For some reason, it embarrassed me to admit the truth even to her. The truth was I had been so inspired by all her beauty and sexiness, I had practically been a cum geyser over the last two years of our dating.
“At least 100,” I said, cringing a little.
“A hundred!? Just imagining me!?”
She waited, appearing to process what I had told her. “Wow,” she said finally. “That’s so sexy. And here I thought I was the only one. I mean, I don’t know if it’s been a hundred, but it’s been a lot.”
“Really?” It was my turn to be surprised.
“Oh yeah. Gosh. After all those late night makeout sessions. You didn’t think you were the only one with blue balls, did you?”
“I guess I don’t know how it works for girls.”
“Well, it doesn’t hurt us like it hurts you. I don’t think so, anyway. But it all works. Everything down there—it works. It’s flowing. Some nights I just get… so horny.”
I laughed, feeling relieved and more than a little turned on. “The feeling is mutual.”
“Baby?” she asked, softly.
“I’m so horny for you right now.” She sounded serious, focused even, like she was narrowing in on the actual reason for her call.
“Me too,” I confessed. I had spent our whole relationship trying to be the upstanding one. Trying to be the immovable object to Katie’s unstoppable force. I was trying again now, one more time, to avoid crossing a line we may regret later. My resolve was waning though.
“You know…I was gonna do it tonight. Touch myself and think about you. I was about to when I texted you,” she said.
I knew somehow—deep down, knew for sure—she was doing it right now. My cock throbbed, nearly to that dividing line between pleasure and pain.
“Katie…” I breathed her name as I traced along my shaft with my palm. My hand was still above my pants. I didn’t dare to dive past the waistband. If I even touched my cock, I knew it would explode with cum in seconds!
“My pussy is so wet thinking about you. My panties are soaked.” Her voice was a whisper now. A beautiful, feminine whisper. “I’m thinking about your hard cock.”
She’d touched my cock before when we’d go too far on her couch. She had seen it once or twice too. But hearing her talk about it was something different. So erotic.
“Yeah?” She whispered.
I caved. My desire for her completely overtook me. “Tell me what you’re doing.”
“Oh, god…” She moaned—a desperate, conflicted moan. “Are you sure?”
“I’m sure,” I said, my tone almost a low growl. “And then tell me what you want me to do to you. I want to hear you say it.”
“Oh, my god…” she whimpered again. I could practically see her small fingers dipping into the wetness of that little thong, rubbing tiny circles out on her clit. Her other hand pawing at her breasts and pinching her nipples.
“Oh baby, it feels so good,” she gasped. “My fingers in my pussy. Imagining it’s your hard cock. Oh god, baby, I want you to fuck me so bad.”
It was the first time I ever heard her say the word fuck. She was a PK—pastor’s kid for those of you not up on your Christianese. A good girl too. How little I knew of the deep sexual currents that flowed beneath that veneer of outward conformity.
“I’m so hard for you, baby. So hard I feel like I could explode. I want to fuck you so bad.”
It felt like the gloves were off, like I could say all the things I always thought in my head but was too scared to try out on her. After all, even fuck was on the table now!
I wanted to ravish her with words, let her know all the animalistic things I felt for her. All the things that filled my mind every time I laid in my bed at night and thought of her. I thought about fucking her, about how her pussy would feel around my hard shaft the first time I entered her. I thought about telling her that. About how I wanted to empty my balls deep inside her pussy as she cried out for me, fingernails raking down my back. How I wanted to fondle her tits and roll her perky nipples in my fingers as she came. How I wanted to feast on her, legs spread, as she grabbed my head and pulled me into her, begging me to eat her dripping, wet pussy.
“Will you eat me too?” She asked. I snapped back from my fantasy.
“God, yes, Katie.”
“I think about it all the time. You licking me down there. It makes me cum so hard.”
“Baby, when we are married I am going to spend as many hours as humanly possible eating your pussy.”
“God — Really?”
“Yes, really.” I ran my hand over my pants again, imagining myself in bed with Katie. I imagined myself spreading her legs apart and pulling those little panties to the side. Revealing her sweet, smooth, glistening pussy aching to be eaten.
“God, Katie. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve wanted to turn off the TV and go down on you right there on the couch?”
“Oh, Rich, I would have let you,” she moaned.
“That’s what I was afraid of.”
“I need it, baby. I need it so bad. My pussy is so swollen. Tell me how you’d take me. Tell me everything.”
I took a deep breath as I squeezed myself through my pants. “Katie…”
“Please… please, baby, I’m so wet.”
I took another breath, my resolve as thin as a rail. “I’d—I’d kiss you first. All over. All over your beautiful body. Your lips, your breasts, your tummy, working my way down to your panties.”
“I’d kiss over the top of them first and all around your thighs, and your sexy ass. I love your ass. So many nights with you I’ve wanted to kiss it and play with it.”
“Oh my god, baby, this is making me so hot. I want you to play with my ass.”
“I’d kiss you and lick you and play with you until you couldn’t stand it anymore. And then I’d pull your panties down your thighs and eat your beautiful, wet pussy.”
“And suck on my clit?”
Her words were music to my ears. “Yes, baby that sweet little clit. Do you want me to suck on it?”
“Yes—yes, baby. I want you to suck on it now.”
“Then imagine it, Katie. Imagine me sucking on your clit while you touch yourself. Imagine me between your legs, spreading you open, and nibbling all over that hot little pussy. Licking it, sucking it, pinching it between my fingers.”
“Ohhhh—oh my god. I’m so swollen.” As I explained to her in great detail exactly what I wanted to do to her, Katie’s little whimpers and moans spurred me on. “Baby—I think I’m gonna cum. God, I’m so close.”
I wanted her to. I wanted her to cum right there. I wanted her to finger her sweet little pussy, fucking herself silly, while I talked her off on the phone. I wanted to cum with her, hand down my pants, fingers drenched in cum as I emptied my balls into my sweatpants. I wanted us to do it together.
But something inside stopped me. Call it a still small voice. Call it the Holy Spirit. Whatever it was, it said, “Don’t.”
“Baby, don’t. Don’t cum. Not yet!” I sounded desperate, like I was jumping into a busy intersection trying to stop traffic.
I could tell she understood from my tone the seriousness of what I was trying to communicate. “No? Are you sure? God, baby, I’m almost there!”
“I’m sure,” I said, calmer now. “We should wait. We’re so close. Just one more week.”
“One more week…”
“One more week, baby.”
I heard that same conflicted moan escape her open lips once more. “Awwwww. Ok, babe, if you say so.”
“I love you, baby. I want to wait for you. I know this isn’t intercourse, but it feels real enough to me. Even more real in a lot of ways.”
“I know what you mean,” she said, softly. “And I love you too. Thanks for watching out for us. I know I don’t always say it. It means a lot to me.”
I thought about all the times we’d avoided violating the other’s boundaries over the past couple of years. All the times we danced all the way up to the edge, with me swinging her nearly over the cliff. All the times she let me spin her there, twirling and seducing and testing me. She needed to know I was the kind of man that was strong enough to resist her advances. The kind of man strong enough to handle a woman like her in marriage.
I saw clearly the kind of game we were playing and the deep need it fulfilled to play that game. And I saw even more. I saw how beautiful our union would be when we finally had a chance to consummate our love fully. And the necessity of waiting till our wedding night to do just that.
“I love you, Katie,” I said again. “And you know I’m going to fuck your brains out next week, right?”
She laughed. “I do. Fuck—do I ever!”
“Fuck sounds good on you,” I chuckled. “No idea where a good girl like you learned a word like that though.”
“Probably from that Die Hard movie you make me watch every Christmas season.” She sounded off in her best John McClane impression, “Yipee Ki-yay, motherfucker!”
“Oh, yeah. That.” I laughed again, the humor helping to break up all that erotic tension. “We are totally making that a holiday tradition when we are married.” I could feel her eyes rolling on the other side of the phone. The same way they’d roll every holiday season after that—even a decade later.
I can’t say we were perfect in our dating relationship or that we never went too far, but both of us were each other’s first. And we did wait until our wedding night to finally cum together.
We’re both really happy we did.
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