Honeymoon

Hello everyone! I hope God is blessing everyone with a productive and blessed day. If not, my prayers go out to you all, and I hope your day gets a bit better!

NOTE: this is a very long post, but I just do not know how to condense all of this. I tried my best, though. Sorry if it takes a lot of your time.

I am continuing my honeymoon story from my last post, titled An IntroductionIn it, I tell how my hubby and I met and give the lead-up to this story.


My husband had just melted me with his words.

“I want you.”

He has a very deep, exotic voice. He always compliments my accent, but he certainly has something very sexy going for him! When we were dating, I found security in that voice. He is a quiet man, but when he spoke to console me or provide comfort, it was so amazing. I felt protected, even over the phone. (As you can see, me getting distracted by my sweet is something integral to these stories 🤣.)

His words shook me; I was ready but still shy. He told me he would go slowly and that he knew little to nothing himself, so this would be a mutual learning experience. He knew that, as a lady, I would need some time to reach the “top of the mountain,” as he so eloquently put it. Then he leaned down, and our lips touched again. I loved the way his lips moved on mine and felt a need for our lips to never part. I do not know why or how, but our tongues started touching and dancing in our mouths. Finally, he came back up and looked into my eyes.

I was in just this strange space of ecstasy. I felt so good, and I felt like falling into his arms and being taken. He started kissing my neck, and God, did that feel good! Tingles began forming in my womanhood and a sort of thumping. I could feel something coming out of it, but I did not know what.

Then my husband wrapped his arm around my hips, and in one fell swoop, he sat down on the bed and pulled me onto his lap, facing him. He used his hand to move the hair blocking my face and looked deep into my eyes. I could swear he did this just to make me blush. And he succeeded; I was turning very red.

The next few minutes, we got into the rhythm of just kissing. But I do not know how to describe these kisses; they didn’t make just my lips and heart feel good, but everywhere. That ache in my womanhood was thumping and growing louder and louder, knowing that his manhood was just below me.

He ran his hands up my long legs, then started taking off my nightgown. His hands were so purposeful and strong, caressing every part of my body as he slowly and carefully removed the clothing. I knew what he was doing but was too lost in his lips to care. They were traveling along my mouth, my chin, my neck, my collarbone.

“Right there, sweet. Oh my god, right there…” I remember panting and whimpering as his lips were feasting on the sweet spot on my neck. He found out where he needed to kiss me to make me whimper. And I knew he would never let me have the end of it, lol, not that I wouldn’t like it. He soon had my nightgown off and leaned back a bit to look at my body.

“You look… so beautiful…”

“Really? Do you think so?”

“Yes, good lord, I think you have more than I can enjoy in one lifetime… hopefully, I’ll have a few centuries to explore the territory,” he said with a slight smile on his lips.

I giggled as he started kissing my bra. His hands were new to this, so he struggled to get the lacy pink garment off my body, but he soon managed. Once he had it unhooked, he pulled it off and threw the bra to the side, revealing his prize.

Now, this part I found funny. We both laughed, remembering this, and I laughed when it happened. Like a little boy on Christmas, he was awestruck. I felt so beautiful, knowing that I could make this man’s blood flow at the speed of light. I always keep myself fit, but the way he ran his hands over me made me thankful that I have been able to tone my legs, my hips, and my waist while keeping a rounded, voluptuous bum.

When I was younger, I started to wear lacy bras and panties because I felt beautiful. My mother took me shopping for ladies’ clothing and undergarments, and though I dressed modestly on the outside, I was always giddy knowing that I was reserving all my special parts for my future hubby, just as my hubby did for me! I always tried to appreciate the body God gave me. I kept it as fit I could and thanked God for giving me good health. But the way my love looked at me was fantastic. He had this look of conquest as if I was the prize that he would cross cold tundra and scorching desert to reach. I was his canvas upon which to paint his love with his lips. But I still felt a bit insecure.

“I think my hips and tummy are a bit short. My legs make up over half of me…”

He lifted my chin and looked straight into my eyes, with those dark, deep, brown globes that shone in the light of the candles on the nightstand.

“You are perfect. Your legs are so long and whispery; they seem so flexible yet so strong. Your tummy is short but so strong and toned. I think that is adorable. It means that your breasts and legs are not far apart, and so if anything, it takes me less time to cover you in kisses…”

“Oh, my sweet, I love you so much. Thank you for making me your wife.”

We exchanged some words of love and sweet little nothings as we continued to kiss and caress. Soon, he lowered his lips to my breasts.

“Sophia, your breasts feel so warm and soft yet so firm. I do not know what is happening to me…”

He wrapped his arms around me and pressed his head against my chest. I held him tightly, and I felt that thumping grow down below. But something else was also growing. I felt something touch me, and just like my womanhood, it too was wet. As he started kissing my breasts, I looked down and saw the bulge of his manhood, standing at full mast inside his boxers. Seeing that and feeling his lips cover my nipples—amazing! Then, he started sucking on them like a baby, and it made me feel so good. I felt like I was giving him security and love while he was giving me indescribable pleasure. Oh, it felt wonderful!

Without warning, he flipped me over and onto my back, lowering me softly against the bed with some pillows on my upper back and neck. His kisses started traveling towards my femininity, and I was panting without abandon, feeling every nerve in my body plead him to take me, to make me his once and for all. When he reached my panties, he kissed the lace and reached underneath my bum.

“Darling, your bum and legs are amazing!”

He removed my panties and stared at my femininity. It was blossoming pink, with a liquid seeping slowly out of the opening. When I spoke to a married lady who is my confidante and mentor, she said that it happens when I feel good sexually and helps my husband come into my canal more smoothly. It was a sign of my love for my husband, and HE was the only one who could bring that out from me. God made me just for him!

My hubby kissed the top of my mound and started kissing my legs and thighs. Meanwhile, I grabbed at my breasts and hips, shaking and trembling as I watched him feast on my body. I whimpered and moaned as his lips explored closer until finally, he looked up.

“Your little flower is so beautiful. You’re like a rose.” He climbed up my body. “Your petals, your stems, your budding blossoms on your bosom… I love you so much. Thank you for all you are.”

As he said this, he leaned against me and started kissing me. I held his handsome face in my hands and kissed him back as his fingers worked their way into my canal. I moaned into his mouth, even louder as our lips parted. I could not stop myself.

He looked at me and gave me that little smile that always made me swoon. He then started putting his fingers deep inside me, one by one, thrusting with them, and I felt something build in my core, in my chest, in my throat, in my flower. (My hubby always calls my ladyparts a rose or flower; it’s our way of communicating comfortably).

After a while, he took out his fingers and left the room. I was worried he got overwhelmed or nervous, but he returned with a soft towel. He put it under me and made sure I was comfortable. Then he started kissing my neck before leaning in toward my ear.

“Are you ready, darling?”

All I could get out after hearing that exotic man whisper into my ear was a small moan and a whimpered “yes.”

He positioned me on my back, then stood up to take off his boxers. I could tell his manhood still stood at full mast, ready to be united with my rose. But he stopped. He looked at me, and I could tell he was nervous. I needed to help him feel secure.

“Sweet, I feel so happy that you love my body. Know that I am your wife and that if you do not feel comfortable at the moment, that is alright. I love you, though—so much! And whoever you are down there makes no difference. It only adds to my love. You can trust me…”

He removed his boxers, and my jaw nearly hit the ground. His manhood was larger than I ever thought. I had never seen what a man’s parts would look like, and it filled me with wonder. It looked alien, foreign to me, yet I felt like it belonged in me. He climbed on the bed, and we kissed some more before he positioned his organ on my petals.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, sweet… just… please go slowly.”

“Of course. You are my wife, and I vowed to make sure you were happy and safe as long as I am alive. I want to make love to you.”

With that, I closed my eyes and let him work his magic. He slowly came into my canal, and I could feel myself stretching. That married confidant I had, she told me it might hurt but that it would soon be okay. This part did not hurt, though; it felt amazing! I could feel every inch of him as he came into my rose, and when I peered at where our bodies joined, I saw that not even half of his impressive manhood was inside. Then he hit some resistance, and I felt a wince of pain.

“Darling, we need to go further, but… we have to get through this.”

He was hot and flustered, and I could tell that my ladyparts were pressing down on him, and he was trying to exercise self-control.

“Sweet, please hold me!” I pleaded.

He wrapped his arms around me, and in one stroke, pushed his organ deep into me. I felt a small jolt of pain, but in a second, pleasure overwhelmed it. His bamboo was deep in my rose.

Now, I realize we do not use the same words others may use. We are not too comfortable with swearing or using certain words, and these euphemisms feel romantic to us. So I apologize for the strange phrases. But whenever my husband buys me a rose and then leans into my ears and says, “I want YOUR rose now,” I am instantly flooded with dew down there and ready to be taken. So we like this communication method.

He started his masterful strokes, and I could muster only whimpers into his ear. He used his big, strong arms to hold himself up as he focused on giving us both pleasure, and I tried my best to receive it. He would, every few seconds, kiss my neck and lips and collarbone, and I tasted the flavor of my body on his lips. If only he knew how good he tasted, how amazing his organ felt in me. I felt elated and in heaven. I never knew how fantastic sex would be. I would imagine myself lying down in bed with my hubby and how we could make love as God intended. But this… oh, goodness gracious, this was amazing! I was taking my husband deep in me, receiving him inside myself. Only he could know the secrets of my body, and only I could know his.

After some time, his strokes got faster and deeper. I was flooding down below, and I felt it. Losing it, I moaned and grabbed my chest, the bedsheets, his back, his arms, his hair, anything… I just needed something to hold as I felt my husband make love to me. It felt like I was making noise, but I knew all I had the strength for was a moan filled with love for my hubby. He started groaning and groaning, and I could tell I was tightening around him.

Then something mind-blowing happened. In my core, a feeling—akin to tension but so much more—built and built and built… then released! I screamed and tossed and turned in pleasure as I gripped onto him with all my body and soul, holding his body tight to mine. As I tightened, he reached his peak of the mountain, and I felt a hot, liquid substance pour into me. I felt it fill my flower, and we remained like that for a bit. His groans were guttural and primal, and I knew I had unlocked something within this masculine beast, just as he had unlocked something sensual and feminine within me.

We hugged tightly, and as he lifted his head, I saw immense love in this man’s eyes.

“Darling, just promise me that you will never leave me. Just be by my side. I will always be there for you, my beautiful bride.”

“Of course…”

I could not speak because I was crying now. All this man wanted was for me to be with him. He felt that intimacy, emotionally and sexually, gave him strength to face the world.

We slowly got up, and he wrapped me in a towel and sent me into the restroom for some cleanup and a shower. When I returned, my head was still spinning, my heart was fluttering, my flower was thumping, and I was ever so madly in love. I felt this white liquid seep out of me when I showered, and upon inquiry with that married friend, I found out this was his semen, how I would be able to get pregnant, and a sign of his love for me. He had filled me with his love, and when it left me, I felt emptier. I wanted him to take me, refill me with his love and passion over and over, and the past few months, he surely has. (Note: we had wanted children from the start, so I felt this was fine.)

When I returned, the room was put back in order, candles still lit, and roses still scattered everywhere. He ushered me into his arms. I cuddled tight against him, and we fell asleep, me back in my pink nightgown and him in his boxers.

Now I know this post is very long, so my apologies, but I still wanted to share some more events. We made love a few more times the next morning, and the next day, and the next—on the bed, in various… positions, I suppose? But our last day there, I was taking a shower since we had gone walking and trekking a bit, and I was a bit sweaty and wanted to freshen up. I didn’t notice when the shower door opened, and my husband joined me. But I suddenly knew he was there and peered over my shoulder just his arms wrapped around me.

“I could not get enough of you. I do not think I will ever get enough of you.”

I yelped a little when I felt his hands. I was surprised, and he noticed.

“Maybe I ought to leave. Perhaps I am making you uncomfortable.”

“No! Dear, no! I am just new to this…”

“I am as well, but I wanted to take the lead and try to assure you that we can learn together. I would love to help my wife relax with a little shower.”

He started tenderly washing me, and his hands on my wet and slippery bosom and bum made me feel so special and loved. I was his precious little gift, and he was my big teddy bear. I shyly asked if I may help wash his back and arms, and he turned around. That is when I noticed something for the first time. We had made love multiple times by now, yet I had never felt this for some reason. It was a scar that ran down his back.

“Sweet… what is this?!?!?”

“Oh… well, I thought I should not tell you because you would worry about me, but perhaps it is too late for that.”

“Sweet, are you okay?”

I held his face in my hands and begged him to tell me. He reminded me of an incident that occurred when we were dating. When I visited him during his graduate studies, he took me out one night, and someone tried to mug us. My husband (then fiancé) got in between the mugger and me and defended me physically. The mugger had a knife and had cut him after I ran off a bit from the scene and was safer. He told me he put his jacket back on to hide it but went to a doctor after dropping me at my hotel. As I felt this scar now, I started crying more than ever before. He turned around and hugged me tightly.

“This is why I did not want to tell you. It healed pretty well; no need to look back on it now.”

“What if it had been serious?”

“It was not.”

“But he hurt you!”

“And what if he struck you? What if you got hurt or stabbed? What if I lost you, darling?”

He had such a serious look, and I knew he had used good judgment. But I couldn’t shake the thought that if the wound had been deeper, I would have never married him. I would never have been his wife, never have loved him and become his lover. Instead, I would have been alone.

“If he hit your face with that knife, your chest or stomach or back, I would be alive but dead inside. I would be a dead man walking without you. I would have rather died knowing I did that for you than lived without you. I vowed, the day I fell in love with you—not the day I MARRIED you, but when I fell in love with you—that I would always make sure to be there for you. I would rather die fulfilling that promise than live having never fulfilled it. In my culture, a husband always protects his wife and her physical and emotional state. I have that duty to the girl I love.”

My husband has been through a lot in life, suffered so much, and I will not share details out of respect for him. But this must have been most painful. Surely, he had to have thought twice. How could he risk it all, just for me?

“But sweet…”

He stopped my protestations and picked me up, softly resting me against the shower wall. The water thrummed against his back as he started kissing my neck. We made love in the shower, then and there. But this time, it felt like he needed me not just physically but in his soul.

Ladies, our husbands have been through a lot, each facing his own battles. They are even willing to suffer pain for us, to walk over glass rather than let us stress over their pains. So when your husband needs you, be his strength, assure him that no matter how painful the world gets, no matter how dark things seem, that his wife—his best confidant, the lady of the house, his one and only lover—is there for him. Your love means so much to your man.

I will never forget that scar. It shows me how much my husband was ready to risk for me, how much he was willing to lose. He is my knight in shining armor, and he knows that his lady is always there for him, to heal his wounds with love, to patch his scars with affection, to strengthen his soul through prayer, and to give him the happiness and pleasure he needs to give him the edge in conquering life’s problems.

Thank you for reading, and as I said in my last post, if there is any advice you would give to me so that I can get closer to God as a young wife and be a better woman for my man (in and out of the bedroom), please feel free. I really appreciate it. God bless you all and your marriage bed, and have a wonderful day!

 

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4 replies
  1. kdm1984 says:

    Love it! Keep writing! Mine has always protected me, too. Thankfully he's never had to physically, but he did many years of martial arts and can just in case. He's also helped me a lot with my autism.

    • SophTea says:

      Your husband sounds like a very good man, and he is lucky to have you <3 Glad you enjoyed it, God bless you and your hubby 'n-n'

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