Her Marriage Lessons by Emily Tilton

Author:Emily Tilton [Tilton, Emily]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Stormy Night Publications
Published: 2022-11-22T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 18

Mandy

I cried out into his mouth, feeling my knees go slack under me as my body responded with helpless need to my husband’s sexual dominance. His fingers pressed hard, all the way down there, where I seemed to tingle with a wantonness I had never known before in my life. The cry faded to a whimper, a submissive noise to punctuate the aggressive probing of Rick’s tongue inside my mouth, as I felt not merely wet but soaking. My panties didn’t just have a wet spot, I realized—I had gushed into their gusset, so that I could actually hear the wet sound my husband’s middle two fingers made as he moved them even further down.

He pushed the fabric of those innocent cotton briefs inward, into me, between my lips, in the place where I had felt such shame to have him enter with his manhood, such searing pain as he had claimed me on our wedding night. I hadn’t wanted it… I…

No. You told yourself you didn’t want it.

I gasped as I understood, as I saw it. The brat and the good girl had joined forces that night: shame and defiance persuading me, insanely, that the thing I knew, deep down, I needed the most actually disgusted me. That the pain felt much worse than it actually did. That I had every right to make sure Rick didn’t renew his intimate attentions more often than was absolutely necessary.

I felt his long, strong fingers tug the soaking gusset of my panties aside. I cried out into his mouth again, my hips jerking uncontrollably. My knees could barely support me, and I felt certain I would simply fall down. Rick could sense that, though, I knew with a surge of gratitude; he moved the hand on the back of my neck downward to my back, and he kept me upright.

Absurdly, the brat inside me chose this moment to make her decision about when I should next defy my loving husband.

The day after tomorrow. He’s not going to whip me that hard, now, is he? Maybe even tomorrow, if this is what happens when I brat?

Rick broke the kiss, drawing his head back but still holding me in his huge hands, one on my back and one between my legs. I had closed my eyes again at some point, and I felt again that I mustn’t open them because of the degrading thing I would see, and yet I had to because the wicked voyeur in me needed to see the naughty girl get her just reward.

I opened my eyes. Rick had his own gaze fixed downward. A sob of need burst from my chest as I understood: he was looking at my pussy. My dominant husband, in the bright overhead lights of this gorgeous master bedroom, had his eyes fixed on his young bride’s barely tried pussy.

Then my whole body bucked, because Rick had replaced the pressure of his eyes with the probing caress of his fingers, and he had urged the tips of the middle two through the sparse blonde curls there and inside me.

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