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“No. Believe it or not, I’m nervous and excited,” she whispered. “It’s our first time making love as husband and wife.”
I adored Chloe’s willingness to be vulnerable. It allowed me to share my insecurities in the two years we’d lived together.
I kissed her exposed shoulder, then made a trail across her neck, down her spine, and back to the other shoulder. I relished the shudder my touch incited. It didn’t matter how many times I saw Chloe naked, I would always appreciate the privilege.
Once I completed my task, I slid the dress off Chloe’s shoulders and let it pool on the floor around her feet. I turned her around and raked my eyes over my wife. Her white bustier, lacy panties, garter, and stockings made my cock come to life. Not that I wasn’t sporting a chubby. But by the time I ripped the buttons from my shirt and dropped my trousers, I was at full mast.
I lifted Chloe off her feet and walked to the bed. I tossed her in the middle, surrounded by rose petals. That vision would always be ingrained into my memory.
I lay beside my wife and cupped her face. I brushed her lips before deepening the kiss, demanding more. Our tongues made love as the taste of wedding cake lingered. We explored our bodies with wanton desire.
After I was satisfied my wife was ready to receive me, we made sweet passionate love.
Had I managed to get her pregnant? Only time would tell.
But I wasn’t going to stop trying.
