The Slow Unravel

“He is the love of my life, and now I’m married to him,” I thought as I looked at the lovely hand of my tall, dark, and handsome best friend. After the bombardment of flower petals, the celebration with loved ones, and much unsolicited advice, we were on our way to our hotel. All of this had been surreal. Jay and I had been friends for years. At one point, we were even siblings. I know that sounds weird, but let me explain. Jay, who is Peruvian, and I, who am Ethiopian, were adopted by a lovely German couple before we could even hold our heads up. Gemma and Ivan Dellacorte were not good parents, though, and all six of us adopted children were taken away and placed into foster care. I was six, and Jay was eight. That fateful day, Jay and I were stripped from the only family we had ever known. It would be the last time I saw him for over ten years. 

Surprisingly, we started going to the same high school when he changed foster homes in my sophomore year. Ever since then, we’ve been close, although life has taken us on different journeys. He attended a local university and married his high school sweetheart at the tender age of 18. Sadly, she died of cancer three years later. I, on the other hand, dated around as I completed my undergraduate degree in a college two states over. After university, I came back home and somehow, we fell in love. We both found Christianity during college, and as Christians, we strongly believed in the “no sex before marriage” rule. Tonight would be our first time together and my first time ever. Well, consensually anyhow. As a girl, I was sexually abused and had spent many years in counseling to heal from it. On the car ride to our hotel, I was praying that none of that trauma would come back and ruin our special night. I also could not stop thinking about how the simple words “I do” had the tremendous power to unlock our sexual freedom—well, within the bonds of marriage, at least.

—————

“No,” he said. 

“What? Seriously, Jay, let’s just try!” I wanted him so badly. That make-out session in the car made me so horny! More importantly, I wanted to just rip the hypothetical band-aid off and make sure I could actually have sex. I was low-key worried that I would freak out when the time came like I did with Aaron. Aaron, my high school boyfriend, wanted to have sex. I loved him, so I said I would give it a try. But, as soon as he tried to “stick it in,” I panicked. All those horrible things that happened to me started flooding back, and I couldn’t go through with it. Although I was a lot more emotionally and mentally unhealthy back then, the sooner I knew that history would not repeat itself, the better.

“Layla, baby, don’t you think it’s a little odd to go from zero to sixty in just one day? Yes, you are my wife, and I want you. But I want to make sure our first time isn’t rushed and that you are ready mentally, emotionally, and physically.” 

“Oh, okay, baby. But, I’m so turned on!” I whined. 

“Layla, tonight, let’s just get used to kissing one another and touching each other in places we didn’t dare to while we were dating,” Jay said. “Besides, I want to give you my all our first time, and right now, I’m exhausted.” 

Uh-huh, I said to myself. I wondered if Jay wanted to take it slow because he hated that he was worried about my past (the abuse and the Aaron situation) too. I didn’t ask, and I obliged grumpily by walking into our hotel bedroom and taking off my dress, stripping down to my white bra and panty set. 

Jay followed me, and soon he was in just his boxers. He walked up to me, kissed me, and scooped me into his arms. We made out as he placed me on the bed, and as his body gently fell on top of mine. Without any lip separation, Jay lay down beside me and began to touch my breasts, thighs, and tummy area. 

I reached out and caressed his penis. Gosh, it feels so big, I thought. I hope it won’t hurt too much. 

As our hands began to rub one another with higher intensity, Jay pulled back. “Have you ever masturbated?” he asked.

“Um, no, not really, because good girls don’t do that, Jay.” 

“Well, that’s where we will start,” Jay said.

“What do you mean?”

“Layla, touch yourself in a way that makes you feel good and then teach me to do the same.”

I scoffed. “What? You want me to do that right in front of you?”

“Yes. There are no secrets between us now, and you don’t have to be ashamed to masturbate. It’s the only way to learn how you like to be touched and the only true way for me to learn quickly. And I wanna start pleasing you as soon as possible.”

Sighing, I asked Jay to turn off the lights. As soon as I felt his body next to mine again, I started to touch and explore myself until I found what felt good. Jay was right next to me, kissing my neck and breasts while masturbating himself. Somehow, I was able to enjoy myself to orgasm. And it felt amazing. It became clear to me Jay had arrived at a happy ending too because his warm cum soaked my right leg shortly after I came. 

“Oh, I’m sorry,” he said as we both laughed. Jay cleaned both of us up, and we concluded our session with snuggles and kisses until we both fell asleep.