The Calm Before The Storm

Some random thoughts on wedding night sex from a husband to his wife

The calm before the storm can mean many things - but for us, dear lover, we know what it means.

It sounds negative doesn't it? But happily it is not.

In reality, the calm before the storm, tempest, squall, hurricane, or what have you, is nothing but a blissful condition that will produce - if you may speak of it in meteorological terms, a downpour of emotion, energy, creativity, and as gravity as my witness, a wonderful biological release of moisture, viscosity, of female liquids, thick with passion, nutritional substance, and sweetness.

Can you visualize this storm yet?

Actually, I am speaking symbolically, rather than about the blasé nature of weather.

That calm which I so passionately speak about - it's something very beautiful and human - it is natural I think.

To me, the calm before the storm means the moment when a newly married bride, just in her middle twenties, or even in her middle age, finishes dressing in her wedding night lingerie to consummate the marriage.

Usually there is a stillness in the air, an anticipation, the flowing of natural juices, and as expected, the tinge of nervousness, as one can hear the stomachs softly churning in suspense of the moment of energy and love that is about to take place.

This is the bride at her most beautiful and innocent when everything is just right and she is about to give herself to her new husband. She is usually freshly out of the bath, re made up and re perfumed, glowing, and at her most feminine. She is soft that evening – and she just used a bidet for the first time – and she loved it!

Of course she is in white or light pink, and even though she might not be a virgin anymore, she is one on that night. I hope you agree.

Blue lace garters (not those cheap imitations you see at New Jersey weddings), meticulously engineered suspender clips, leather opera pumps dyed the right shade of white, nude or white color stockings of the sheerest material – silk if she's really a purist in her interior sensualities, a pink English corset, French bustier, merry widow, demi bra, push up bra that lifts up her pert breasts.

She might even be so daringly risqué as to sample an Italian shelf bra (in lace and from Milano, of course) – you know the ones, cut half way on the cup, so her taut nipples can be exposed. My lovely child, that accouterment is used exclusively when wedding night love making requires the bride's tits to be exposed while firmly being held for easy access by all amorous parties concerned. What a novel invention – a piece of lingerie solely designed for sex, besides, the bride gets all the support she needs when her large breasts bounce as she is being rapidly penetrated during the onset of the "storm". The nipples are thus free to be sucked and licked by her, yes she too can partake in sucking if she wishes if her breasts are big enough, or by the groom himself, he can suck too. The bride by wearing a shelf bra can deliciously expose her breasts as they rise up to be worshipped by the groom's eager mouth.

Just like the self bra your younger sister Christine wore on her own very memorable "calm before her storm". Remember, her sexual actions woke up the sleepy hotel bungalows in that luxury resort compound in the Seychelles where we all gathered to celebrate her marriage by the azure tropical ocean and white sand balmy beaches.

The Indian Ocean was never quite the same, and I assure you, that to this day, the legend of the joyous, but vocal American bride is humorously told to all arriving honeymooners by the friendly and willing native staff at the resort. Talk about inspiration and a surge of emotions mixed with lust! It must've been that long plane ride half way round the globe that prompted it, I think. Not to change the subject, but next time you see your sister, tell her that her beautiful expressions of her sexuality on that night, actually contributes to the annual (or anally) inspiration of numerous couples wishing to follow in her footsteps. The resort staff is not so enthused at times though, being that three quarters of the bed frames are usually destroyed by the end of the stays due to the constant arduous banging and fucking that happens when young couples wish to recreate Chrissy's consummation.

As to panties or the lack of them…

The bride can be panty less in this outfit of love or she can have her ass thronged if she so desires.

Remember when we made love right after we came home from your lovely red haired cousin Jennifer's wedding? She looked ravishing with her usually long hair made up, correct? Did you like the way I made you climax when I suggested you visualize Jennifer standing tall as she is, her Irish Italian skin tanned from many weekends at the South Hampton beach, coming out of the honeymoon suite's bathroom in Turquoise island wearing an incredibly expensive white custom made corset – the kind that hugs and holds the body, but allows for movement - four garter straps on each shapely leg, sheer white stockings made in France, her brown erect nipples showing through her cups – like a model in a Victoria Secret's catalog of old – when they weren't afraid to show pubes and areoles - but to make things interesting - and to get right to the point she chose not to wear her thong panties. Her pubic hair – v shape and all - looked like a lava flow ready to spill over – her pussy was hot like cayenne pepper, the redness of the hair and the primal jungle-ness of her tan – exotic – you in my hut now quality of her sultriness, and as she mounted her groom, she slowly slid on his cock – her natural lubrication, sweet but fiery from the passion she let off - along with the slice of mango she mashed up and inserted into her pussy right after bathing to make it delicious to the taste, and to coat her husband's erect cock.

Jennifer used her Pamela Andersen like high heel pumps (you know the ones with the thick heels) to balance herself atop her husband – and in an aerobic display of grace and locomotion, she bounced rapidly up and down her groom's cock – her tits, at first, held snugly by the superbly constructed cups in her corset were seductively unfastened by the twentieth thrust – they bounced and jiggled while she was in the female superior position, after many multiple orgasms later she finally bent over and had her hanging tits touch her man's chest prompting him to unload a hot and furious load (without condom mind you) into her quivering and accommodating snatch. Remember how we all rejoiced nine months later when we saw the lovely fruit of her effort – a beautiful creation bought into the world.

The bride is always soft on that night, and her man will at first touch her lovingly but then with love and affection still intact he will fuck her like there is no tomorrow. If it is done correctly (but not necessary for those who chose to wait) he will ejaculate deeply and hard within her soft and wet vagina. He will grab on to the garters and he will mount her so hard that each pump will be an education to her on what divine wedding night sex is all about. If she allows, he can celebrate her lovely face by doing the ultimate and ejaculating into her mouth as he lets out the most pleasurable scream of his life. He will undress her - kiss her all over and afterwards massage her until she too has a heart wrenching climax. She glows that night as her hair which was neatly done for the wedding is now messy and she looks more beautiful for it. The glowing and her perspiration mix with her expensive perfume, and she feels a special feeling inside. She is wet - she tastes it - she gives some to her lover, and then she falls asleep besides him like a little child. This is beauty. That was the storm - now there is calm again - until the morn where a more primal and lustful (but loving) tornado takes place again, sans the undergarments which are neatly folded waiting for the next typhoon a couple of hours later.

Even your sexy plump friend – the one we fantasize about sometimes – Rebecca chose to wear lingerie when she married sassy Rachel. Rachel wore lingerie too. I never knew a same sex union could be had with such lovely creatures as these two. I know, I sound bigoted, but lesbian weddings always created stereotypes of two masculine butches looking out of place in wedding dresses or tuxedos –short hair and all that stuff. I was wrong, and these two were the most absolutely ravishing lesbians I have seen. Remember, as we all finished the vegan main course at the reception - and they actually danced their wedding song – a sensual bossa nova by Jobim!

A day later in some swank Maui bungalow I visualized the younger Rebecca nude, only sporting a pair of silk thigh highs sitting in the boudoir as she combed her long black hair and her shapely ass graced the cushioned chair. She was freshly out of the hot tub in the back. Rachel then walks in of course, wearing a white push up bra, silk panties, a tummy tucking garter belt, nude color stockings and a pair of opera pumps- in one hand she holds a chilled bottle of some sparkling Spanish wine, and in the other she strokes the strap on rubber cock/dildo securely fastened around her abdomen. I'll leave the rest to your imagination my dear – but you know what happened next don't you?

Her parents happy on the thought that their little girl was married also made love on that night. Her mother (wearing a black garter belt) also climaxes as the happy father fills his wife with the very same sperm that made their lovely creation Rachel in the first place. It's almost incestuous as the parents sexually celebrate now both their daughter's unusual union – but they accept it as natural – and the most important thing is that they have finally found love – even though it's from the same gender, and instead they offer their divine sensual energy as a prayer to always watch over the newly married couple.

It's a celebration. This is life. This is beauty. Yes.