Sacrificing My Virginity (L)

This story contains strong language (L)
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We sat at the kitchen table talking. I held a cup of steaming hot coffee clutched in my hand and stared out the window as I tried to formulate an answer to the question my friend had just asked.

Beth was not just a friend but my best friend. She had served as my maid of honor, and we had shared everything for as long as I can remember—all the way back to kindergarten: favorite toys, rides to school, going shopping, sleepovers, first dates, first kiss, just everything.

Now Beth was about to get married, and she wanted me to reveal all the nitty-gritty details as she so tactfully put it. I knew what she was referring to; she wanted to hear about the angst of getting married, the emotional roller coaster ride I took finally to have a man after twenty-one years of abstinence. She knew I was a virgin the day I got married, and Beth is a virgin—as far as I know—so we can relate.

I explained to Beth all the nervous bride jitters of planning such an important event. I worried about every detail and dreaded it all.

Beth and I had gone shopping for my wedding night at Victoria’s Secret. I wanted the night to be special. I hoped to be like one of those salacious women wearing a tight black corset with her breasts oozing out of the top and a tight bottom that concealed very little.

After trying on many types of lingerie, I settled for something simple and basic: a white thong that fit my mound like a glove. With it, I wore a white bustier that cinched tightly around my waist, pushing my breasts up almost too much. I slipped a white cocktail dress over my new undies. I never thought I could look so sexy. My long dark brown hair draped over my shoulder and curled around the bottom of my breast so naturally. I had never dressed this way before, but a girl only gives up her virginity once in her life.

The ceremony went flawlessly. With the pomp and ceremony over, I was officially a married woman for a few hours now but still a virgin. Beth and I slipped out of the reception to a designated room for the bride to change. I felt so dirty wearing the white thong and bustier. I dabbed some perfume between my breasts, and Beth insisted that I put a little on the inside of my thighs just in case Jim got that close with his face.

“No way,” I said. “You don’t think…” Beth just smiled.

“I read about it in romance novels. A little touch of perfume can’t hurt.”

I dabbed a little on, mostly for Beth’s benefit. I slipped the white cocktail dress on with a ring of black beads at my waistline. My white holdup stockings rubbed my thighs as I walked back into the reception. I heard a gasp from my new husband.

“WOW!”  He was grinning.

I looked at the clock. I’d been a married woman for precisely six hours now. The best man summoned our friends and family to gather around before the bride and groom departed on their honeymoon to consummate their marriage. I flushed a bright crimson while someone provided a straight back chair. I sat and crossed my legs, left over right. It was time for my new husband, Jim, to remove the garter I wore and toss it into a pool of men gathered around us.

Jim knelt, placed his finger on the hem of my dress, and pushed it up. I uncrossed my legs, shuddering at the thought of him touching my mound. He was so close as he took the garter in hand. A white triangle of my white thong was clearly visible to all who looked on. It shimmered in the lights of the camera flashes. I could feel the silk biting into my labia, and it made me moist. I felt that everyone in the room was looking at my thong and nothing else.

Jim turned his back to the crowd and tossed the garter loaded with my perfume. It sailed into the air, and a cousin of Jim’s caught it.

Now it was my turn. Bridal bouquet in hand, I turned my back and tossed it into the air. I could hear the frantic shuffle of heels on the tiles floor. I looked across a sea of women, and there stood Beth, a strand of hair dangling in her face and my bouquet clutched in her hand. To the victor belong the spoils, I thought. I gave another glance at the clock; seven hours and still a virgin.

It was time to depart the reception and go to the hotel where I would give my new husband the most special gift I had to offer him. We left, stowed in the back of a limo, and the only question on my mind was when will I lose my virginity.

We walked into our hotel suite. Jim pulled me into his arms, the barriers to having sex having dissipated almost eight short hours ago. The butterflies that had started on the limo ride over from the reception had not stopped. They had intensified, if anything. I wondered how long it would take James to get us both undressed, and I figured, however long that was, I had about that time plus five minutes or so left of the precious virginity I had clung to for so long.

I still didn’t know exactly what to expect. My parents raised me in the shadow of the church, and although my faith was but a fraction of my mother’s, I somehow managed not to learn what sex entailed. I knew the general concept of having sex, but not the nuances of a man and woman consummating a marriage.

In my home, sex simply wasn’t spoken of. I did have the mandatory mother-daughter talk at the onset of my puberty, where my mother awkwardly tried to explain the differences between men and women. I sat through her lecture as Mom embarrassingly stumbled through a child’s definition of intercourse, even though I was a teenager. Despite the simplicity of her explanation of, “he puts his thing inside you down there between your legs,” I was far more aware of the physical differences of girls and boys than she knew. But when it came to sex, I was clueless, so I was not rushing this sex thing.

But I would often, behind the locked door of my bedroom, lie back and rub myself.  This was the beginning of many days of masturbation that made me tingle when I visualized what sex would be, but I never penetrated my vagina.

Often during my teenage years, I would lay on my bed, cautiously opening my legs as I ran my hands up the inside of my thighs, my skirt bunching at my waist. It always felt so naughty, and I liked it. I tried to imagine the feel of a man’s body on top of me—James’ body after we were engaged—and as I did, a sharp tingling would begin to radiate from deep within my belly. The feeling intensified as I let my fingers caress the sides of my panties, sliding over that delicate skin that wasn’t quite the lips of my pussy but so close to my labia. I would slowly glide my fingertips lightly over my smooth cotton panties. As I drew them up my slit and let my breath escape me, I would shiver. It seemed that a lightning bolt of pleasure would shoot through my body, starting between my legs and going all the way to the top of my head. I always craved it and still wanted more.

Occasionally I would feel emboldened, and my hand would slip under the waistband of my panties and cup my bare pussy. With my finger pressing between my lips into the wetness there, my breath would quicken. I would find that wet opening, rub around the outside of it, and know that one day a man’s thing would violate me. I rubbed around on the outside of it, trying to imagine how big a man’s ‘thing’ was—one of many details my mother left out of our talk. But until that day arrived, I would not penetrate my pussy.

The day before my wedding, I came so close. I so badly wanted to feel something in me that I almost slid my fingertip into my vagina, but I heard my mother coming down the hall. Panicking, I quickly pulled my skirt down. When my mother walked in, I felt like what I had just done was written in huge letters across my forehead. My cheeks blushed a deep red, and when my mother asked me if I was alright, I responded that I was just a bit warm. My excuse sounded hollow to me, but my mother didn’t press the issue. I knew I would get an earful if Mom knew what I had been doing. My courage having faded and my arousal now gone, I did not resume my jilling. Tomorrow I would be married, and I would learn firsthand what sex was all about.

While James went off in search of a bucket of ice, I sat at the vanity looking into the mirror and prepared to give myself to him. By the time he returned, I had slipped off the white cocktail dress and sat there just in my white thong and the bustier with my tits spilling out. The butterflies came on strong, and as I thought about what was about to happen, that fluttering feeling sank to the chaste folds between my legs. I felt heat rise to my face, and I realized I was a blushing bride.

James embraced me from behind, his arms wrapping around my body. He cupped my firm breasts through the bustier touching the swell of my breasts. James played with my tits, and I began to tremble. My breath had quickened, and my body quivered.

I was just twenty-one and a real virgin. I had never seen a man’s cock in real life, let alone touched one, but I have had thoughts of it quite often. My mother warned me of the evils of sex, how a man will ask me to do dirty and sinful things that should stay reserved for my marriage bed. When I was a young teenager and started to masturbate, I felt so guilty when those feelings of guilt turned to pure ecstasy. However, as much as I wanted to, I never put anything into my vagina.

“Are you ready, Lori?” James anxiously asked his bride.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” I quivered nervously.

James moved towards me, slowly undressing as I looked on with amazement. He put his hand on my shoulder and went in to kiss me.

I wavered but quickly gave in to him. His lips were so warm and inviting, and my body shook with desire. I was ready to become a woman.

Taking my hand, James moved me to the large bed and sat me down on the edge of the bed. Half-naked, he stood in front of me and pulled down his boxers, and his bulging cock made its debut.

I sat there with my eyes fixated on his hard cock, jutting out from his crotch. Those damn butterflies were back as I inspected every vein of his swollen shaft.

James reached out to squeeze my breasts, and his hands trembled. He bent over and kissed me behind the ear.

I turned to the side, and James unhooked my bustier to let my tits spill out. My pink nipples were hot and stiff above my areolas. I sat there in my tiny white thong, and James now sat on the edge of the bed with his cock jutting up.

“Kneel between my legs,” James directed, and I did.

“Be a good wife and put my cock in your mouth,” James said softly.

I looked at him, scared about what I was about to do for the man I loved. I was not sure I wanted his cock in my mouth. I had not anticipated that he would ask that of me.

“My mouth?” I asked nervously.

“It’ll feel good for me. You’ll like it, and then it’ll be your turn,” James said convincingly.

“My turn?” I thought.

I took his throbbing, erect penis into my hand and started stroking it, looking up at James like a scared little girl looking for approval. I opened my mouth and started to lick the tip. After the first taste, I opened my mouth wider and took James’ swollen cock into my mouth. I began to bob my head back and forth.

James put his hand on the back of my head to guide me. As he pushed his cock deeper into my warm, wet mouth, I started to gag and pulled away.

“It’s okay, sweetie. You’re doing a great job. I’m gonna cum soon.” James reassured me.

Once again, I took his hard cock back into my mouth and resumed sucking him. I felt elated knowing that my new husband enjoyed me sucking his cock. I sucked harder and faster as I heard him moaning. Not only was James enjoying me sucking his cock, I liked it as well.

“Oh god, I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna cum!” James screamed. “Keep it in your mouth. Let me fill you with my hot cum!” he moaned.

His body shook as the cum traveled through his long, hard cock, spurting into my mouth. I felt a thick, gelatinous fluid coat my tongue. Not sure what to do with a mouthful of James’ cum, I did what came naturally; I swallowed it. It had a bitter-sweet taste, and I guess it showed on my face.

“You’re so good at that, baby. Thank you,” James whispered, reassuring his brand-new bride.

“I sort of enjoyed it a little,” I said with a smile.

“Now it’s your turn. Lay down and get comfortable,” James said.

I lay back on the bed with my legs tightly closed, and James climbed onto the bed next to me. His manly hand reached for my chest and started to rub my breasts. My nipples grew fully erect as he stroked them. I began to pant and breathe heavily as he took my left nipple into his mouth and sucked it hard. For a moment, James and I locked eyes. He could see my nervous excitement for him to take me.

I felt his rough palms on the inside of my thighs, spreading my legs apart. I did not know why, but I groaned when he touched me so close to my pussy. His fingers stroked my wet thong, and then he lowered his head and kissed the damp silk. Hooking his fingers in the waistband, he pulled it down to expose my bare, virginal pussy. As James tugged on my thong, I felt it slip under my butt. Once he had it off, he pushed on my thighs again. I lay on the bed naked with my legs splayed wide, my man kneeling between them.

OMG! Beth was right; James was about to put his mouth on my pussy. I froze, wondering if he could smell the lavender perfume on my thighs or just my wet arousal. His tongue licked my swollen pussy lips, then around my extremely hard clit. My breathing was very erratic. I raised my butt off the bed, presenting my pussy to my husband.

His fingers now made small circles, setting my clitoris on fire. Then James started pushing his index finger into my virgin hole. I could feel my virginity slipping away. With his hand on mine, James guided one of my fingers between my silky lips and into my pussy. Our fingers were next to each other inside my wet cunt.

James removed our fingers, then drew his stiff tongue up my slit. My body convulsed as he licked me. Then I felt an intense warming, and I came for the first time in my married life.

“Don’t stop. Oh, god, please don’t stop!” I screamed.

“I’m gonna fuck you now; I’m gonna fuck you so hard.” James panted. He got on top of me and laid between my legs, and I felt his hard erection probing me.

I arched my back and gave him a passionate kiss as I rubbed my pussy on his hard cock. The time had finally come. I open my legs wider and wider. The spherical head of James’ bulging cock stood poised at the opening of my vagina. I felt him begin to push, ready to take my virginity.

“Are you ready, sweetie?” he asked.

“I think so. Just go slow; be gentle,” I whispered.

James began to slide his cock into me. He rubbed it against my wet lips. Slowly, he inserted his cock inside of my virginal cunt. I inched back as his manhood gently prodded my hymen. As he pushed it further inside of me, I cried out. James was thrusting hard now, and I started to cry.

“Please stop. Please, it hurts so much,” I winced.

I could feel his cock, my pussy taking his thick shaft and squeezing it.

“Baby, I’ve got to keep going. It’ll feel better soon,” James said.

I looked up into his eyes and nodded my head, signaling him to keep pushing hard, getting deeper into my wet hole.

James grabbed my breasts and put one into his mouth. He sucked my nipple hard.

I wiped a tear from my eye as he lowered himself down so he could thrust his cock harder into my pussy. It was a violent hard thrust followed a second. James was thrusting into me fast now, unapologetic as he fucked me. I cried out even louder than the first time, but he continued to fuck me as the blood from my freshly torn hymen surrounded his cock.

I was so tight; He later told me how much he loved his fat cock sliding in and out his wife’s pussy. Blood and cum dripped from between my legs, staining the white sheet and memorializing my final rite of passage: giving my husband the ultimate wedding gift of my virginity.

I began to match James, thrust for thrust, my legs wrapped around his waist. The pain faded, replaced with decadent pleasure from his long fat cock squeezing into my tight, wet pussy. I shut my eyes tightly and started to pant, my breaths soon coming into sync with his. We fucked.

“I’m gonna cum again, baby. I am going to cum in you!” James told me.

“Yes! Oh, my god, Yes!” I shrieked.

James raised up, the palms of his hands pushing on the bed, and buried his cock deep into me. He made strange sounds, the most guttural moans I have ever heard, and then he collapsed on top of me.

I could feel his cock pulsating and filling my pussy with his thick, creamy cum. I finally felt like a real woman. The union with my husband completed me.

James shifted his body and lay next to me on the bed, smiling. At that one smile, I kissed him, and we drifted off to sleep, his married cock still inside my married pussy.