Page 24 of Their Rustic Retreat

We had a big honeymoon planned. A trip to France, a gift from my parents. We would see the sights and sounds of Paris, and also to do some hiking in the French Alps. It seemed like an adventure that we’d both love, and a beautiful way to start off our relationship being official.

This meant getting on a plane in Smithport, which worked in other ways too. I still lived with my parents, and Tristian was staying in that tiny apartment as he worked on building a cabin worthy of being a family home.

The things you do on your wedding night are things you don’t want to do with your parents in the other room.

Plus, as small as Evergreen Valley is, it doesn’t really do luxurious hotels all that well. We got a small motel which is a mediocre bed and still advertises that the big appeal of their TVs is that they are in color. Not really much of a draw when we’ve entered the twenty-first century.

For the start of your honeymoon, you wanted something fancy. A king-sized bed—no a California king-sized bed. Fine wine, room service, countless other luxuries. A good prelude of the fun to come.

We head up to our room, and the entire time we ride the elevator, we’re giggling nervously with one another, the anticipation killing both of us.

Getting through the door, closing it behind us, there’s nothing stopping him from ravishing me right then and there.

And he does. His lips are on mine, this time in a much more carnal nature; the adrenaline starts pumping through me, my desire burning so damn hot. Our tongues entwine, and I’m clawing at him, and then he’s clawing at me.

A brief moment, rationality strikes me. “Slow down,” I whisper.

“What, you don’t want this right now?”

“No, it’s not that. Just that this gown is special, and I want it to be something I treasure for decades to come. I think I should remove it in a more traditional manner. Like, anything that isn’t recklessly in the throes of passion.”

He laughs. “Oh, I guess. Sure.”

Tristian steps aside and goes to the big fancy bed. He looks my way as he starts to strip himself. He rented this tuxedo. Not out of cheapness, but because, in his words, "The fuck am going to do with a tuxedo after this?" They don’t tend to have the same sentimental value as a wedding dress.

What I’m wearing is custom made. Savvy and Char helped me make it perfect. I want to keep it and see it down the line. If things get rough, maybe my daughter will get married in it. Maybe I’ll just be wearing it as an older woman and remembering the start of my happiness. I don’t know when I would want it; I just knew that I did.

I gingerly set it down, ready to be properly stored. I did act in haste, because damn did I want my husband, and all of this could wait till the morning. Soon, all I’m left in is a delicate lacy white top, panties, and garters, looking far fancier than I’ve ever looked before.

When I return to Tristian, he’s sitting on the bed, waiting for me, already buck-ass naked. He looks my way, stroking his thick cock, all ready for me.

“Aren’t you excited to get started?” I say as I saunter over to him.

“Hey, when it’s with you, I’ll always be ready to go.”

I want to show how badly I want him too. He strokes his cock as I approach, and I let my comparatively dainty hand go to take over for him. Feeling his hardness, how strong he is needing me, it drives me a tiny bit wild. I’m the sexiest woman in the world to the only man whose opinion actually matters to me.

He strokes my cheek, urging me toward him, and I flash him a devious smile as I slide down to my knees on the edge of his bed. I kiss his cock, playfully licking it, running my tongue up and down its length. He shudders under my power, as I go deep under him, toward his balls, taking those tender orbs into my mouth and giving them equal tender attention. I appreciate all of him, his strength, every bit of his sexy body, and I show it with equal extra care.

I leave the carriers of his seed behind to run back up his cock, as I open my mouth slightly to tease him with some wet kisses, before easing him into my mouth. There’s a lot of man in front of me, and I take great pride in taking as much of it as I can, and watching as he squirms with passion.

He gasps and moans, helpfully keeping my hair out of my eyes as I go down his length fully, my tongue twisting around him as I suck his member so intensely. He struggles, murmuring something about God as he taxes himself with how I’m going at him again and again.

I massage his balls as I continue my worship, and I feel him tense up. I slurp up the bit of precum that leaks out of him as I shoot him the most sinful look I can imagine. I bob up and down on his cock as my eyes devour him as much as my mouth does, and he’s melting in my hands. Having such a big strong man at my mercy is a thrill, but sometimes Tristian knows how to make it even more thrilling.

He strokes my cheek and gives me a stern look. “I need you, babe. I need you the old-fashioned way. I need to feel your pussy around my cock.”

There’s something brewing inside of him, and I can’t help but smile that he wants to give it all to me, just in a slightly different way than I was planning.

I don’t hesitate. I scramble up on top of him, those strong hands of his roaming up my body. I wiggle those lacy panties down my legs to expose my sex to his, rubbing myself up his thigh until I get to where I need to go. He pulls my tits out of my top, massaging them, zeroing in, squeezing them and letting me feel his oh-so-skillful touch.

His cock pokes at my slit, and I look at him with anticipation. I know he’s aching for me, but I can’t help but run a finger into my own folds, and see how wet I am for this man. The idea of having him do this to me, and the excitement that this is only the beginning. That I will keep getting to have him for decades to come.

As I guide him into me, I shudder with glee as he penetrates me, filling me wholly, so perfectly, as if he was created made just for me to enjoy. We’re so filled with desire for one another already, we quickly start making love in a way that has us both feverish with need. I slide up and down his cock, the fire searing through me with each and every bit of friction between us.

Tristian’s hands grip my waist as he guides me up and down his length, adding his own spice and power to our tryst. He plunges deep into me, driving me to cry out for him. He does it again. And again. We throw each other fully into our passions, letting lust guide us and letting the intense bliss of it all pound through us more and more. Our spirits merge, our love for one another so full and intense.

It doesn’t take much for me to get where he was, lingering right on the edge of orgasm. I ride him hard, his strong arms pulling me up and down his length.

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