[Note: This is the second in a multi-part story series. To start at the beginning, read: Erin Ch. 1: Female Led Relationship. JQGraves]
*****
My wedding to Erin went without a hitch. With Erin’s mother doing most of the planning, it wouldn’t dare do otherwise. That woman can be damned scary. Enough so that her husband goes to great lengths to avoid pissing her off. I’ve never had occasion to irritate her myself, but spend any time with the lady and you can tell the potential is there.
After the reception, Erin and I adjourned back to my house, well, our house now. In keeping with tradition, I swept Erin off of her feet and carried her over the threshold. She laughed and said, “Don’t let this macho thing go to your head, husband.”
“Not much chance of that, wife,” I said. Erin had long since established the pecking order in our female led relationship, now a female led marriage. She agreed to take my last name—a modern woman, but with a fondness for tradition—but she made it very clear to me, if to no one else, that I was to be the head of the household in name only. It may sound harsh when I say it that way, but that was not the case. Erin made most of the decisions affecting us both, and she held me to high standards with appropriate punishment associated with failure, but there was nothing cruel or dictatorial in our union. Erin just expected me to accomplish any tasks assigned in a manner she could accept and I could be proud of.
When I put Erin back on her feet, she hugged and kissed me. I reciprocated, and we took our time so there was no question we had both been thoroughly kissed. Even though we’d been living together for months, marriage put things in a new perspective. Erin felt different in my arms; there was more of a feeling of belonging, rightness, fitting… I don’t know how to put it, it was just better.
We broke apart when breathing became a necessity, and Erin laughed again and said, “I thought we’d never get out of that reception. If I don’t make it to the bathroom in ten seconds, I will pee all over the carpet.” She accompanied these words with a rush to the loo. “Get into the bedroom and out of that tux. I’ll join you shortly.” The closing of the bathroom door clipped the end of that last sentence.
I went to the bedroom by way of the bathroom down the hall. It had been easier for me to escape from the reception for bathroom breaks than it was for Erin, but it had still been a long day in the spotlight. I’m a private person by nature, so was glad it was over.
In the bedroom, I took off the rental tux and hung it back in the bag it came in for return on Monday. It was a major relief to remove the tie and unbutton the top button of the shirt. I made it a rule years ago to never wear ties, and although I broke my rule on this occasion, I reaffirmed my solemn vow to abstain in the future. Since I work at home, it’s a goal that is easy to achieve.
Down to my boxers and a t-shirt, I piled pillows at the head of our marriage bed, propped my torso up against them, and watched the bathroom door anticipating the return of my love. I was like a randy teenager again, already hard in anticipation. The evidence was obvious in the way my boxers were tented.
At the reception, after we’d posed for all the wedding pictures and danced the initial dances, Erin changed out of her wedding dress, leaving it with her mother to bag and put into storage. (What ultimately becomes of these single-use, white gowns that are so lovingly preserved?) She changed into a conservative pantsuit, cut to conceal yet accentuate her feminine curves. I had mixed feelings about the change, that pantsuit looks great on her, but I had been looking forward porno to assisting Erin out of her wedding gown once we were alone. When I whispered that disappointment to her, she whispered back, “I understand, love, but take solace in the knowledge I am still wearing the virginal lingerie underneath.”
Those words came back as I stared at the bathroom door like a puppy awaiting the return of its master. It’s said that sexual arousal has more to do with mental than with physical stimulation. That may be true, and, as I waited, my imagination was running rampant, as was the elevation of my cock. Without realizing it, my hand stroked through the material of my boxers.
The light visible under the bathroom door was extinguished, the door opened a few inches and Erin’s well-turned calf appeared in white hose, knee raised and stiletto heel dangling from her toes. Slowly, she lowered her foot and eased the rest of the way through the doorway. I was struck by what she’d termed, “virginal lingerie.” All in white, sheer and lacey, bustier half-cups supporting without covering her full breasts at the top and with garters supporting white hosiery below. She left off the panties that would have covered her trimmed and shaped auburn bush. And the afore mentioned four-inch, white stiletto heels raised and shaped her legs.
Erin’s enigmatic smile faded, and she raised an eyebrow when she saw the state I was in. “Getting a head start, husband?”
Until she spoke, my mouth hung open (the image of a drooling simpleton comes to mind), my eyes staring at this vision of sexuality and my hand on autopilot, up and down, up and down. At her words, I jerked my hand away and responded with, “Wow.” Eloquence under pressure, that’s me.
Erin walked over to the bed, grasped my boxers and said, “We’ll have these off now,” as she pulled them down my legs and off. The cloth carried my member with it until it sprang free of the waistband and snapped back to slap against my stomach. I pulled my t-shirt over my head and flung it across the room.
“You know you are not to handle my property without my permission,” she said as she took hold of my cock.
“Your property?” I could not keep the grin from my voice.
“Now that we are married, you are my property, and especially this part of you.”
“I must have missed that part of our wedding vows.”
“When I accepted your proposal those months ago, you may recall the condition I stipulated? I told you that if we married, we would live a female led marriage. You agreed.” Erin was stroking me now, adding to the excitement I’d started without her.
“And that means you own me?” I was finding it difficult to speak. If she kept it up, I was in severe danger of fountaining into the air. An image of cum splattered on the ceiling flitted through my mind.
“I am the leader; you are the follower. I would not mind you playing with yourself, under supervision, preparing for our mutual satisfaction, but given the state you are in now, I doubt you will last three pumps. You clearly require no additional foreplay. Shall we test my theory?”
Erin leaned down and engulfed my hard cock with her mouth, taking it all the way down in one smooth motion, then sliding back up. “That’s to provide a little extra lubrication. I’m not as far along as you are.” Erin straddled me and lowered herself on my staff. We both groaned with the entry. “You know you are not to cum before I do. There will be consequences if you do.”
Erin gripped my shaft tightly using her pelvic muscles. She’d mentioned weeks ago that she was doing Kegel exercises to prepare for our wedding night. It felt fantastic. Now, I worried I might not last more than three pumps. anime porno I wasn’t even sure I could last two. I made up plot problems for the book I was writing to distract my mind from what she was doing, but it did not help. Erin’s breasts were in my face as I sat against the headboard. Between the sight of those outstanding tits at eye level and the slow, intense stimulation of Erin’s pussy caressing my member, I lost it. Was it more than three pumps? Who was counting?
I jerked and twitched, pumping a huge load into my bride as she pushed herself all the way down, continuing to squeeze and relax, squeeze and relax.
After several minutes, Erin raised off of me, smirked at my performance and said, “Slide down, my husband.”
I scooted down the bed until I could lay flat upon it. Erin held position over me then moved up and lowered herself toward my face.
“What are you doing?” I asked, although it was damn obvious, even for someone in my post orgasmic condition.
“Giving you the opportunity to clean up after your mistake,” she replied.
I might have objected further, but Erin lowered and sealed her nether lips to my mouth. I’ve never tasted semen, the idea nauseated me, but Erin gave me no choice. She resumed her pelvic motions, and my cum surged out of her vagina into my mouth in pulses. It was swallow or be inundated. I swallowed.
“Use your tongue; get every drop,” she directed. I was thinking of it more like globs than drops—globs of slimy snot. Fortunately, the taste was not too offensive, and Erin’s secretions thinned the texture some. It was almost bearable.
Erin worked her pussy against my mouth, pressing her clit against my lips and teeth. Her breathing grew labored, and after several minutes—long after I consumed my emissions—she shuddered with her first orgasm and squirted her juices into my mouth. I told myself to think of it as a rinse, much more palatable than my release had been.
My new bride panted, holding on to the headboard but still putting most of her weight on my jaw, until she recovered. Then, she swung off of me and lay beside me on the bed. My member was semi-erect, and she took it into her hand.
“Did you enjoy the cream pie we made, my husband?”
“Not that much. Let’s not do that again, okay?”
“Oh, to the contrary, I think we’ll make that a regular part of our love making. You gave me a wonderful orgasm. It gave me great pleasure, and you do want to please me, don’t you? Specially after disappointing me so?”
I didn’t know how to respond, so didn’t.
“There is still the matter of your punishment for cumming prematurely.”
“My… punishment?”
“Yes, dear. You are supposed to last at least long enough so we can come together. Anything short of that would be selfishness on your part. And, I find it very distressing that you were playing with yourself to get into this condition. Steps will have to be taken to prevent that in the future.”
“Steps?”
“Never mind, we’ll fix that later. For now,” she added swinging her legs over the side of the bed and sitting upright, “why don’t you climb over my lap so we can address your transgression.”
The tone of her voice made me a little nervous. She didn’t sound angry, more matter-of-fact, but I am into spanking as foreplay so I was not too concerned. I scrambled into position, looking forward to what I thought would come next.
“Reach back with your right hand, please, dear,” she said. When I did, she took hold of my wrist and pushed it up behind my back. She then extracted her right leg from under me and used it to scissors my legs between hers. “An important component of a female led marriage arap porno is discipline, or when you break one of our rules, punishment,” she said, and delivered a hard spank.
I jerked with the first spank, partly from the surprise the first spank always represents, and partly from the unusual strength she put behind it. Another hard spank followed, to the other cheek. Erin usually starts these foreplay spankings easier, allowing me to get accustomed to the sting before it mounts. Not this time. This time, she set into a rhythm and continued to rain hard spanks on my backside. Struggling on my part brought me no escape. She had me well secured.
“You are not”—SMACK— “to play with yourself”—SMACK— “without my permission.”—SMACK— “Understood?” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“Y-yes.”
“Try again.” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Better. And,”—SMACK— “you will always”—SMACK— “put the pleasure of your wife”—SMACK— “on a level,”—SMACK— “if not ahead of”—SMACK— “your own.” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK
“Yes. Yes ma’am,” I cried. Erin was building a roaring fire back there. Her hand is rarely this painful. She was not holding back. It had to be hurting her hand almost as much as she was hurting my ass, but she kept it up for several minutes. I was on the verge of using our safeword when she stopped.
“We’re getting some nice color here,” she said, rubbing and pinching my cheeks. “I think that is enough of a warmup, don’t you?”
Somewhat befuddled, I was still processing that last question when Erin reached for a heavy wooden hairbrush on the nightstand. Without delay, she brought it crashing down on my ass.
I took at least a dozen very hard spanks with the brush before I finally yelled out, “Octopus!”
Erin stopped spanking. “What did you say?” she asked.
“Octopus, please, octopus. That brush hurts too much. I can’t take any more. Please stop,” I panted. When we first started our spanking games, we picked the word, “Octopus,” as a safeword, because it was unlikely to come up in casual conversation while one of us was being spanked. It was more of a joke between us. I’d never invoked our safeword before, and months ago when I had still occasionally spanked Erin, her spankings were never intense.
“Octopus,” Erin mused. “This is not a play or a discipline spanking. This is punishment. It is intended to teach you to avoid, in future, the actions that made it necessary. And, since it is a punishment spanking, safewords do not apply. I’m willing, however, to be merciful.”
“Thank you. Thank you, ma’am.”
“I’ll just give you ten more hard spanks, and we’ll be done… for now. Don’t expect such leniency if there are repeat offenses.”
Erin delivered the last ten spanks, even harder than before, while I twisted and struggled and cried to no avail. After the last, she let me rest for a while then released my arm, untrapped my legs, and helped me up. She sat me on the bed and cradled me in her arms, guiding my mouth to her breast.
“There, there,” she crooned. “It’s all over. You’ll be my good boy now, won’t you. Mommy hates to spank her bad boy, but she will when it’s necessary. Do you think you can try again? Can you be very, very good this time?” Her hand slid down to my shriveled member and encouraged its growth.
Erin was patient with me and brought me back to full erection. I scooted up onto the bed and lay back at her direction so she could mount me. The added pressure of her body on mine did nothing to sooth the tender state of my aching backside. This time, I had no trouble staying hard and holding back until my wife reached orgasm, twice. On the third, I joined her.
We lay in each other’s arms and slept the sleep of the exhausted that night.
That first taste of what it meant to be with Erin in a female led marriage was an eyeopener for me, but it was just the beginning of what was to be a long series of learning experiences.
END