After we were married, we lived with my wife’s parents for about a month before moving into our own place. We had a room on a different floor, which was probably for the best, as we had sex daily for that first month and quickly discovered that my wife is a loud lover.
This day, however, was different. It was a weekday, so her parents were both at work, and her little brother was in school. Neither of us had to work that afternoon, so we sat on a couch in the living room watching TV. I use the word “watching” liberally here since, like any newlywed couple, we were far more interested in each other than whatever was going on on the screen.
We sat side by side, as close as two people could be. My arm wrapped around her waist, and she snuggled up against my chest. We would lean in and kiss during commercial breaks, making out like a couple of horny kids. Our hands found their way under each other’s shirts, exploring the youthful, toned bodies underneath.
One commercial break ended, and we just kept at it, barely noticing or caring about anything but each other. Eventually, my wife fumbled around for the remote and turned off the TV.
“Why did you do that?” I asked.
She gave me a dirty smile. “I want to do something else,” she said. “You weren’t watching anyway.”
“You want to do it on your mother’s couch?” I asked.
She nodded, a glint in her eye, and we made out with even greater intensity. Our clothes flew about the room. My wife leaned back and raised her long legs, marvelous in their beauty, as I slid her shorts and panties up past her feet. As I tossed them to the side, she lowered her legs, bent them at the knees, and spread them so that I could lie between them.
I leaned forward, and our lips met in a passionate kiss, then she closed her eyes and arched her back, her firm round breasts pressing into my chest. The feel of our naked bodies was such a novel experience that I felt my heart would pound its way out of my chest.
Using a hand to guide my penis, I slowly slid it into her waiting vagina an inch at a time, picking up more of her natural lubricant with each gentle thrust. She gasped as I entered, and once I was fully inserted, we paused. She was so tight in those early days, and going too fast would hurt her.
When her rapid breathing had settled, I began to thrust slowly at first, then picked up speed. She moaned louder and louder as we went. We kissed and laughed at ourselves, a couple of young kids banging on her parents’ couch.
Her moans increased, and she grabbed my shoulders as her pleasure built. She threw her head back over the arm of the couch, mouth open in a silent scream, her back arching and legs gripping my sides as her climax hit. I knew I was close, and I kept thrusting through her orgasm. Her muscles relaxed, and I came, filling her with my cream.
We lay there for a while, naked and happy. The imminent return of her family eventually convinced us to make ourselves presentable. Laughing, we cleaned ourselves up and went back to watching TV. We were a little lost when we got back to the show, but it was well worth it.
We had made out on that couch so many times while dating, always stopping before things went too far. But now, as newlyweds, we had finally taken it all the way. My in-laws still have that couch, but my wife and I have not had a chance to replay this memory—yet.
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