Of Hope Lost and Found Ch. 02

I fully experienced the mutual pleasure aspect of it during our honeymoon. Glen jokingly kept a tally of pebbles in two cups by the bed. One cup for each of us, one pebble for each orgasm. He said we should try to see who could get the other one's cup the fullest. I loved that game, mostly because it meant that Glen was working extra hard to bring me pleasure. Unlike James, who would "reward" me when I had "earned" it, Glen took delight in leading me to peak after peak. He used his fingers, his mouth, and by mid-week, his cock.

One evening, after we had spent the afternoon hiking in the woods and then cooking our dinner over a fire, Glen was working his talented fingers around my clit. As usual, he would bring me closer and closer, then back off. The tension would build and build until I told him I'd had enough. But that evening, he didn't listen. He backed off again, then positioned himself over me and pushed inside. I was a little frustrated at his out-of-character insensitivity. But he only thrust for half a minute or so, then pulled out and started rubbing me again.

He repeated that over and over. The frustration and tension and desire was becoming unbearable. Then one time, instead of getting over me, he pulled me on top of himself. I straddled him and he guided his rock hard shaft into my over-prepared tunnel. Pulling me down and lifting his hips a bit, I felt contact with my clit. Glen guided me back and forth a few times until I realized (and why had I never experienced this before?) that I could rub my clit against him. After a minute of building up again, I felt ready to cum. I didn't even notice Glen's strained face below me. I wasn't the only one frustrated by the process of building and pausing, building and pausing.

I moved my hips down, pressing my clit as roughly as I could against his pubic bone. Glen pulled out and thrust up a few times, then started cumming with a subdued shout. He tried to hold me still as he came, but I was too close to my own release. With another few thrusts and wiggles of my own, I felt it finally happen. My back arched up and my head went down onto Glen's chest. I tried to squeeze my legs together, but I was straddling Glen, so I felt his solid legs between mine. My walls clenched tight and found themselves embracing a firm, pulsing rod. My hands gripped shut but were stopped by his shoulders, where they had been resting. In every way, my body seized up and found Glen there, a most welcome presence inside my body.

Glen, meanwhile, once I had started cumming took hold my hips and pulled me down as hard as he could. He released deep inside me and felt my entrance tightening around his base. We both groaned and shouted and gasped, our faces close together, our pleasure feeding off each other's. Neither of us spoke for a few minutes as I lay there on top of him. He softened inside me and slipped out. I felt his member slide along my inner thigh until it was resting between his legs. It did what I felt like I was doing- deflating, collapsing, going to a state of well-earned rest.

When I was able to talk, I mumbled through my hair into Glen's ear, "You did it."

He got out a single, breathy laugh and said, "You...We did it. Hell, it happened. I'm just glad we were both there when it did."

I groaned a happy noise and rolled onto my side, landing next to Glen. "Is it too early to sleep?" I asked.

"It's our honeymoon. There's nowhere to be tomorrow. If you sleep, I'll be right there with you."

A few minutes later, I was curled up naked in my husband's arms, listening to his breath as he slipped into his dreams. Did I love him? Yes. Was it the romantic kind of love? Not yet. Was I attracted to him? Not exceptionally, but I enjoyed sex with him and I found my desire for him growing- growing by leaps and bounds that week, especially. Sex was great, though a lot of that was just the excitement of sex itself and not necessarily connected to Glen as my partner. But I knew a little of how the human brain works, and just having him present when I was experiencing that pleasure made a deep connection in my subconscious. And if that happened over and over...I could definitely see how bonded I would feel to him in a few years.

But no need to think about the years ahead. For the time being, I was content. I was, to my own surprise, a happily married woman.