I Finally Know What Romance Is!

My name is Ruth, and boy do I have a story to tell. I married Jonah when we were both 18 years old. We were both members of a very conservative Christian faith and felt sex should only happen for pregnancy. When it was time for me to get pregnant, he would lift up my nightgown, get on top of me, stick his penis in, thrust a few times, come in me, and we were done. I never wore panties on sex night; it was always preplanned.

At first, I always hoped to get pregnant early, so we wouldn’t have sex for a while, but as time went on, I wanted more. It was boring. After 24 years of marriage, we had 12 kids and had had sex maybe 25 times total, and it was always the same.

 

Then tragedy struck: My husband was killed in a farming accident. I was horrified.

 

I got a job and met a man who was from a more traditional faith.  The man was named Jon and he had lost his wife to cancer.   John and I soon hit it off. After six months of dating, we were married.

 

Our honeymoon night was something I’ll never forget; Jon taught me what romance is really like. For the first time ever, I let my hair down during sex. He touched, kissed, and licked me all over, sucked my earlobe and nipples. Then he gave me oral, which was interesting.

 

The hard part was oral on him. Jon laughed at the look on my face when I saw his huge penis for the first time, and it wasn’t even fully hard. It was my first view of an adult one in all my 43 years. I almost choked a few times just sucking his head—it was as far as I could go. He was patient with me, teaching me. Finally, we moved on to intercourse.

 

Jon got on top of me, his hairy chest rubbing against my nipples as he kissed my lips, neck, cheek, ear. He pushed his cock into me slowly, then wrapped my legs around him. Unhurried, he started thrusting while rubbing my legs and kissing me. I had never experienced anything like that; it felt so wonderful.

 

Jon whispered into my ear, “I want you in control.”

 

“What?’ I thought. “Control of what?”

 

We rolled, and I got on top of him, not knowing what to do. He told me to move up and down. I tried but lost my balance a couple of times. The third time I started to topple, he grabbed my hips and helped balance me. It was unbelievable to feel myself rising and falling—hard for me, but worth it. It turned me on that he watched me perform.

 

We finished doggie style. When he came inside me, my climax was also triggered and my orgasm was so good that I almost passed out. It was my first orgasm.

 

When we finished, he kissed me and asked me how it went.

 

“It was perfect.”

 

Little did I know it would only get better.

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5 replies
  1. sarah k says:

    I thought it an interesting contrast between 'conservative' Christian and 'traditional' one.
    As far as I'm aware, 'sex only for babies', (with the focus on the word 'only') has never been accepted as Christian. Pleasure in marital sex and masturbation is the traditional Christian teaching, tied with procreation.

  2. SecondMarge says:

    I know where you are coming from. "The good Christian woman lets her husband meet his needs and hopes she gets pregnant soon so he will leave her alone," was advice I got before my first marriage. That and the idea it was wrong to touch myself got me off to a poor start but never got me off, so to speak. So sad that those monks and priests who hated women and labeled sex for pleasure evil and dirty damaging so many of us for centuries.

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