Triangulation

Triangulation

Written By: Sisi Burks

Edited By: Bazzle

Date Finished: August 1, 2023

At a relatively young age and compressed hurriedly in a short amount of time, I was tasked with learning so many new rules about life. Everything turned upside down when I married my love of my life, Andrew. He was the perfect man for me, or for anyone really, Handsome and strong, he was also kind and loved animals, just like I did. We really bonded over it as we met working at a pet supplies store together. Our romance was quick to start and soon we were inseparable. Then after a year and a handful of days, we were married.

How could someone expect a rather innocent girl in her early twenties to take on the role of wifehood like a fish to water? Dating was one thing. Marriage another. What I thought was a simple task took a lot of time getting right. I needed to learn to settle in, but surprisingly even more time went to consummate the marriage.

It didn't happen on the wedding night, as we were living in a condo with my new in-laws. Even after coming home to the house we shared for only a month before the wedding, sex did not come for some time. I was a good girl before him, a virgin and one that had never tried smoking much. Yes I married a smoker, but that was no big deal. I had maybe a little experience with pot here and there, as a teenager. But upon meeting him at work I took up a habit to spend more time with him.

Smoking cigarettes.

At first it was all for show. I decided that I needed to take smoke breaks with him. I was good there too. There was no inhaling and I was only keeping the pack of cigarettes in my locker for a week at a time, if not longer. It was a work thing. The pack never came home with me. At work I just wanted to be with him as often as possible and I knew smoking was one of the ways I could make that happen. It took such a long time trying the cigarettes before I would actually become addicted to them. When smoking menthols I found they got you higher when smoking weed and that helped when I was in my "stoner" phase.

That was when the inhaling and the addiction started to take hold.

It was all part of trying to keep up with my new love, Andrew. It had left me sick a handful of times. I would smoke too much to try and flirt, and match him, cigarette for cigarette, and end up puking up whatever was on my stomach due to nicotine poisoning. These days, looking back years later, that seems laughable. Today I feel I could easily enjoy chain smoking a whole pack in one go with no problem at all.

As time drifted on though, I could be found smoking a cigarette after every pot smoking session on my own accord, trying as hard as I could to get as high as I could. Other than those time, I still only smoked to get closer to my love.

Once married, me and my new husband spent a lot of our free time partaking in the consumption of illegal substances and not nearly as much time doing what new couples did in the bedroom. As such for the first few months of our marriage the Hanover's were very much celibate.

It wasn't like I never tried to give my husband what I knew he wanted. His bulging cock told me the entire time what it needed. I tried constantly, but the physical pain blocked us from ever getting it done. As such I took the easy, comfortable route. We always ended the time with a blowjob to get him off in some way. It was easier that way. Then when finished we could snuggle up and both spark up a cigarette.

"I'm sorry... I really tried." I would say with a menthol cigarette dangling from my lips, sitting cross-legged in bed still naked with the bedsheet around my torso, leaning on the headboard.

"Hollie, I know. It's okay. We can just try again another time." Thankfully, everytime Andrew seemed okay with the struggle for sex that we faced together. We had the same conversation over and over again before he got up out of bed, cock now milked and soft again as he pulled on his tight briefs. He was a nice size, a bit above the average and thick. God, so thick. I should have enjoyed it!

I would sigh, letting out a lung full of the poison smoke into the air of our bedroom, coughing slightly before speaking again "Yea... I just wish I could give you what you want."

Smiling, Andrew slipped back onto the bed, leaning over and giving me a kiss while my cigarette was pulled away from my lips for a moment. "Stop worrying so much. You'll get wrinkles," he teased. As if I would not from smoking alone. This situation happened repeatedly.

That was how the evenings always went and I felt like a failure. A failure of a wife, hell a failure of a woman at the end of the day. It was hard to not be able to give my man the things he needed and everyone expected me to just get over it and get it done. I had even spoken with my general practitioner about my inability to provide real sex and gotten absolutely nowhere but more embarrassed. If that was possible at the time.

I felt like I had tried everything, from sexy underwear to getting plastered drunk or extremely high. I had also contemplated just grinning and bearing it. Unfortunately, nothing was working. A couple times he had gotten nearly inside me but the discomfort and painful stretching had me begging him to stop. With tears in my eyes, it ended with another frustrating defeat under my belt. Even just his manly fingers entering me would have tears welling up in my eyes before getting to the second knuckle. I feared and questioned my sexuality at that time, wondering if I had made a big mistake and was wasting Andrew's time with "playing house".

Those thoughts plagued me and the emotional weight pushed me deeper into my smoking addiction, the one thing I still felt brought us as close together. We could easily enjoy a cigarette together, more than we could have sex.

During all this, I never stopped to think I didn't know my body as well as I thought I did. That I needed to get to know myself more, having never been interested in inserting my own fingers inside or anything else for that matter. Even so, I imagined what it would be like to be fucked by my lover. To be under him and have him thrusting inside me. I wanted to experience it so badly and find out if I was even truly into men the way I always assumed I was. Sure, I knew I was bisexual, but at the time I didn't know if I was at all straight.

Laying in bed after a joint shared with Andrew one night I wanted to try again. This would be the time and I was sure of it. I was nice and high, feeling horny just thinking about all the fun things I knew I could do with my husband right then. I wanted him and I wanted to give all of myself up finally. I rolled on top of him, giggling as I sloppily got into position, sitting back on his lap as I faced my handsome, strong lover. He was really the wet dream of anyone who was into men. He had thick brown hair, pretty blue eyes, and his body was toned and sculpted, Hell, he even had a six pack. I was taking him for granted by not doing my wifely duties and I knew it.

Sitting under me, Andrew had a full flavor cigarette hanging from his lips, staring up at me as he placed his hands on my chunky hips. I was not nearly as fit as my husband was with a bit of extra chub all over my body, but I did have my massive tits going for me at least. "Wanting something?" He asked playfully with a small smirk creeping onto his striking face. That look made me feel even wetter as I pushed my hips down against his, a blush taking over as I was unable to vocalize what it was I wanted.

I leaned in and pressed my lips against his warm neck, kissing down to his hard chest and even lower. While he enjoyed his cigarette I took his cock out and first stroked it a few times before wrapping my lips around and starting to suck. Giving head was easy enough for me, though I didn't have much stamina when it came to the act. My jaw would ache within minutes of starting, but normally I would get past it to get him off. Not this time. I was going to give him something so much better than just a blowjob. Once I began feeling that discomfort I let him pop out of my mouth and against his stomach, taking just a second to admire just what I had laying in bed with me.

By the time I finished, he was done with his cigarette and was stubbing it out in the well loved ashtray on his end table. Knowing what I was wanting and that I would need a fair bit of preparation, Andrew pushed me and rolled us so that I was now on my back and he could start his journey between my legs. His plump lips left kisses and light sucks from my neck to my breasts where he lingered, pulling my top up to let them free and start sucking on my erect nipples. Once he had his fill of that and I was writhing under him, Andrew drew his lips one kiss at a time down over my chubby tummy and his hands began working my panties off at the same time.

Andrew was always so good at eating me out. I almost persuaded him to do it. I loved every moment of his tongue lapping at my wet lips and swollen clit. As he licked I arched my back from the sensation when he first began, finding it to almost be too much. Thankfully I was able to withstand it until I got more used to it and as it always was, his tongue felt blissful. I hated that I PREFERED it to his cock. Andrew took his time, seeming to never grow tired as he enjoyed his meal while I let out soft, meek moans. My husband stayed down there and worked, teasing and sucking on my clit until I had a leg shaking orgasm, pushing his head back from my now overly sensitive area.

"Did you get off?" He asked, moving back up my body as he wiped his face. I nodded, feeling my heart starting to beat like crazy in my chest as he got into position, his heavy cock pressing down against my spent pussy.

I could feel as he ran the tip of his cock between my soaked lips, searching for my impossibly tight hole to try and push inside. After a few seconds of him fiddling around, I took over, reaching between us and grabbing hold of his dick, guiding it to my opening like I had many times before. "G-Go ahead..." I said softly, still nervous to even speak. Then he was pushing and the red hot sting was back as he began stretching me. I thought I would tear or something with how it burned as he began pushing himself inside me slowly, giving me time to take it in and relax. Inch by inch he was going inside me and the deeper he went, the more it seemed to burn. The worse it felt. The more scared I became.

But I had to do this.

I was his wife of two months and still a virgin.

It was pathetic. I felt pathetic. It had to come to an end. This had to be the time.

"St-stop! Stop please!" And there they were. The grimace on my face and tears in my eyes as I pushed hard against his chest and begged for it to be over. And it was. He was again out and left behind a throbbing memory. I just laid there for a moment, getting my breath, putting my hands over my face and hiding, taking in that I had, once again, failed.

Andrew patiently stayed in place though he didn't crowd me as he looked down and sighed a little. "Baby, it's okay," he said gently. I shook my head at that, knowing he was only saying it and that I knew that it was not okay. None of this was okay. But, I needed to get over myself quickly and I did. Drying my tears from my face and gently pushing at him to lay on his back again so I could finish him off with another blowjob. I positioned myself beside him and took his cock back in my mouth, tasting myself on the tip as I began to bob my head and suck on him again. I did this and fought through the pain in my jaw until he tapped to let me know he was about to cum, which I let him do on my tits.

It was over then. I was back on my side of the bed with a new cigarette between my lips, struggling to spark my lighter with shaking hands. Being the sweet man he was, Andrew ended up lighting it for me like it was my first time again. He smiled a bit as I took a deep, needy inhale, allowing the smoke to swirl in my lungs and calm me.

Sighing, I laid back into the pillows and looked up at the ceiling as I puffed on what felt like a required after "sex" cigarette. "I'm sorry," I whispered. A tear building in the corner of my eye.

"Please don't be." Andrew said back, rolling onto his side and putting his arm around my torso, pulling me in closer to him. "I get it. It's a scary... painful thing. Take your time."

"How much more time can I even take? Am I gonna still be a virgin on our anniversary?" I asked, groaning at the thought as I took another needy hit of my mentholated poison. Andrew just laughed a little beside me, shaking his head at the thought alone. It sounded ridiculous, but that far into things it seemed horrifically probable to me.

At this point, I had gone to all my friends and even my mother about the problem I had. They were emotionally helpful, of course, but there was not much that could be said by then to make me feel better. No amount of advice was helping either. As much as I appreciated everyone, I was left with more anxieties over what I saw as a shortcoming. They had all been able to do it, so what was wrong with me?

Some would say nothing while others would say everything.

"There's really nothing to it!" My best friend had told me. "It only hurts at first and that pain goes away pretty fast. Then you can decide if you like it or not," she had excitedly told me. But, it was too late for that wasn't it? Not only had I married Andrew already but I was truly in love with him. If I didn't like sex my whole life would spiral closer to shambles..

"I just don't see how you can get through the pain part. It's too much! Feels like I'm being ripped open every time." I explained for probably the millionth time. There wasn't much more I could say about it, that was the foundational problem I was having after all.

She was quiet for a moment, taking a puff from her cigarette as we both leaned against her car outside some shops. We were out on one of our weekend shopping days together and had to stop to smoke at just about every location, mostly for her since she was a far more seasoned smoker. Probably more than doubled our time spent out, but we both enjoyed it enormously. "I think what you need to do is start prepping yourself somehow. Maybe a smaller toy or something would help. I know you can't stand using your fingers, but you gotta start somewhere."

Right then and there, I got an idea. A possible way to stretch myself out, get used to having something inside me, and not spend an arm and a leg on different sized sex toys.

Tampons.

I was brought up believing there was no need in using the things until you were already having sex with your partner. Even then I had heard they were uncomfortable and annoying, but something about the soft cotton was less threatening and potentially less painful than anything else I had contemplated.

From then on, I swapped from normal pads during my monthly to tampons. The first time putting one in had been scary and burned slightly, but in the end it had been fine and I was able to do it. I was embarrassingly proud of myself for it as well. It felt empowering in a way to have the thing inside me all day long and I could feel it as well. No matter how much time passed, nor how many times I had to change it, for the first month I was able to feel the tightly wrapped cotton inside my vagiana.

Andrew seemed pleased with my new form of practicing, but I assume it was only because it was better than nothing at all. I took to the new routine throughout my period and by the time it was over I felt more sure of myself than ever. Even so, it took my second go around to become confident enough in trying to be penetrated by my husband again. Between that time, I of course was dutiful with giving him what love I could, anxieties still high about the whole thing.

During my next period, I got a bigger size of tampons to try and though it was a tight fit and pretty irritating at first, I got through just fine like I had the month before. As the days of that week went on, the more nervous I got for the end. I knew I had to try again once everything was back to normal and I was unsure. I was surely more ready for the action itself, but the what ifs were rolling around my head constantly.

The biggest one being, what if this is the end of my short marriage?

On the day everything cleared up, I had it in my mind that I was going to try. I needed to try. After all the time waiting, questioning, and struggling I needed to get my first real time out of the way. No matter if I liked it or not. The answer to that was extremely important to me and the fate of my relationship. So, when he came home from work that night, I was already waiting for him wearing only my unmatching bra and panties in our shared bed. To prepare myself I had showered and smoked enough weed to have me in a pleasant daze. Not too little or too much. I felt it was the perfect level of high.

Finding me that way, I could see how excited he became right off the bat. "Hey babe, good day?" he asked, grinning as he stripped his shirt off immediately. Before I knew it, I was joined in bed and Andrew was crawling right on top of me. I giggled slightly, my hand coming to his chest and pushing up against it lightly.

"It's been okay, but I hope it's about to get really good," I answered. Andrew backed off me a bit and I guided him to sit down before straddling his lap and starting to undo his pants. As my hands worked, we kissed lovingly, tongue dancing together and tangling between us. I felt it would be better for me to be on top and have more control over how quickly his thick length went inside. In my head it would make all the difference in the world and I was excited to give it a try as I took his quickly hardening cock out.

Reaching over to the drawer of his bedside table I got out a small bottle of lube and made quick work of getting him nice and slicked up. "I'm gonna try..." I said softly, cheeks already flushed from the making out and nerves. Andrew nodded and said nothing as I moved off him so I could take my slightly wet panties off, discarding them on the floor before getting right back on top of him. Getting up on my knees I hovered over his cock, using one hand to hold it steady while the other was on his strong shoulder, holding on for dear life as I sank down.

It stung, but it wasn't as unpleasant as all the times before. Maybe it was merely just my body being more used to having something inside but I was able to slide down his cock slowly, gasping here and there and wondering if I was ever going to get to the end. The burning was still there as I sat down on his lap, his dick finally fully enveloped in my soft, wet walls. I was wrapped so tightly around him I could feel how he throbbed from the inside. The longer I stayed put, the less it hurt. Slowly, I began to move my hips, letting out a small sound at the way it felt. It didn't necessarily hurt as much as it felt strange at that point. I made sure to relax my body while also attempting to move at the same time. It was much harder than the girls in pornos made it look. I couldn't find a good way of bouncing or rolling my hips while also not tightening up more around him and making it start to hurt again.

Groaning in frustration, I stopped and just sat for a moment, trying to think of what was best to do. "Can we swap positions?" I asked, getting quick and excited approval from my husband under me.

I dreaded taking him out and having to have his cock reinserted, afraid however much I wanted him, I would not be able to take his cock in again. But, I got off him and moved onto my hands and knees, facing our headboard. I closed my eyes as I felt the bed shifting while Andrew got behind me. I quickly reached back, wrapping my hand around his cock and helping to guide him back to my slightly more stretched hole.