I am so lucky.
I feel so cherished.
When I reached the altar to join hands with you today, I saw your inaudible whisper that said "You are so beautiful."
I will always remember the tears of joy in your eyes when you vowed to be my husband. I will always remember how you could not hold them in, yet the most peaceful smile was on your face.
I will never forget that look in your eyes when you pulled back the hood to my cloak that I had chosen to wear instead of a veil. I will never forget that first married kiss, after the minister said "You may kiss the bride." It spoke of such passion, yet was discreet enough for the formality and sacredness of such an occasion.
So now here I am, standing before you, in the privacy of the honeymoon suite. I never knew why you found me beautiful, I am quite common looking, really. I'm only 5'4" tall, big boned, and quite well endowed. My waist could never get smaller than 36 inches around without my ribs sticking out, and I tried to get down that low for you this day, but I missed my goal by about two inches. My hips are... well... nonexistent. One thing I do have going for me though is my muscular limbs, which spoke of my strength.
My face isn't particularly beautiful, nor is it the ugliest face on the place of the planet. I'm just your plain, ordinary girl. Yet you know some things about me that aren't ordinary. You know my deepest secret, and it comforts me to know that it doesn't revolt you.
You draw close to me and hold me in your arms. Suddenly, I feel your hand on my head, pulling the wig that had concealed my baldness for many years away from me. "My love, we don't need this any longer." you whisper to me.
My first reaction is to quickly cover my hands over my 1 inch long patchy growth of hair, but you hold my hands to my side and then reach up and run your fingers through the little bit of hair I do have.
I am crying now. I have waited for years for this moment. For ten long years I have not known the feel of wind on my hair, the touch of another person's hand against it. I bury myself in your arms as you kiss my head, over and over. Finally you stop, and look at me with unutterable love in your eyes. You run your hands down my shoulders and arms, and lightly brush against my breasts. I can feel the sensation through my clothes. You kiss me deeply and passionately, your hands working from their place behind my head down to my breasts, and there, you cup one in your hand while moving in circles with your thumb. It is not the first time you have done this, but to me, every time seems as fresh as the first time. This sensation is starting to drive us both crazy.
I stand before you now, and your gaze explores every curve of my body. Albeit, they aren't very flattering ones, at least in my opinion. It is the first glimpse you have ever had of my body, entirely naked. You touch my shoulders carefully, as if I were made of fine china. I think you can sense the fact that I am quite insecure about my body, wondering if it is pleasing to you or not, because out of the blue it seems, you start singing, "You are so beautiful to me..."
Your hand cups my chin, then runs down my neck and chest, down to my breasts, which are so big that even your large hands can't cup them. You attempt to do this anyway, but soon your light circles around my nipples turns into pinching them lightly. You place another kiss on my lips, and begin to kiss down my neck, between my breasts, once on each breath, and I, with a quick gasp, have just realized that you are now playfully nibbling on one of my nipples. Your hands, in the meantime, have roamed downward. You are on your knees, and I am still standing. Your hands have moved to my hips, running down them onto my butt, and then my hips again. Then to my surprise, you worked your hands to my inner thigh, running a light thumb along. My knees buckle with the overwhelming sensation. You stop, and lead me to the bed.
We lay there side by side, hands exploring each other's bodies, though I am too shy to roam very far just yet. Not many words have been spoken this entire time, but the looks on our faces and in our eyes, and our touch are the only forms of communication that really matter right now. I can see in your eyes what you want to do with me, but I know that you're wrestling with whether you should. You know secret #2: a part of my past that is extremely painful and could never be rewritten. The last thing you want to do is to cause me pain by doing something that I am not ready for. So you pull me close to yourself, skin touching skin, our chests rising and falling in unison, our legs entwined. And I don't seem to mind. You make up your mind.
"I love you." you whisper gently into my ear. "I want to take you now as my wife, and make love to you." You then get a concerned look on your face again. "But I won't do it unless you want me to: I don't want to bring up memories of a painful past unless you're ready to trust me completely and know that I would never do anything to hurt you."
I nodded. I was ready to trust you with everything I had. I was, afterall, your wife, your soulmate, and even before we were married we were one in every other aspect save bodily union. Although I had a painful past of rape, I trusted you enough to put that aside.
As you slowly entered me, I remembered the time I had struggled about whether it was the time to tell you that my virginity had been taken from me. I remembered your reaction: the immediate angry pounding of your fists against a brick wall, then dropping to the grass pulling me down with you. You just held me and cried with me.
Now you hold me close, and our bodies work together. We kiss, heatedly and passionately, before you reach your climax. Then, you shudder, and fall back down limply into my arms. We adjust ourselves so we are again lying on our sides, and the last thought that I have before we both drift off to sleep was that I have, truly in all ways, been unveiled.