Chapter 1: The Engagement
Amna didn't know it could ever be this much fun. She grew up in a conservative country, in a moderately conservative family where religion wasn't imposed but tolerated and nurtured. And she spent her coming of age years being the good girl that her parents expected her to be, and more obliquely, what society imagined was how a girl should behave. That meant no boys, no drinking, and definitely no sex. Sex was "sacred" and for marriage only. It was also for men to enjoy and for women to put up with. She was familiar enough with pop culture to know that that couldn't be the whole truth. It was impossible that every woman was "putting up" with sex to appease their partners. But she didn't get the chance to explore it first hand. Her imagination was all she had. She thought about scenes from movies she had seen over the years when she masturbated, imagining herself in them, having sex and enjoying it. The sensation reverberated through her body, as she climaxed to images of other women climaxing while making love to handsome men.
Time passed and she graduated college and started working for a multinational company, a job sought by every college graduate in the social strata to which she belonged. She continued working there for three years, and as time passed her parents started hinting to her that marriage was in the offing. Amna was nervous and excited at the prospect. Nervous because she had such a limited experience when it came to romance, and excited because she desperately wanted to experience sex and intimacy. But she also didn't want to settle for something that wouldn't make her happy. Her parents had raised her conservatively, but not as a pushover. She knew what she wanted, and she was willing to fight for it.
So she timidly agreed to it, and her parents started looking for prospects. Arranged marriage was the norm in the society she was in. She went through the hoops of the process: meeting a lot of moms looking for brides for their sons: doctors, engineers, whatnot. It was a revolving door, and there always seemed to be something that didn't work, and it didn't proceed after that first meeting. There were a couple of cases where Amna went on a date with the guys themselves, but there was no chemistry. They wanted her to leave her job, stay at home, cook meals and basically serve them whenever they wanted. That was not at all what she was looking for in a marriage.
Just when she was getting pessimistic, she met him. The man she would eventually marry. He was 28, tall and handsome, easy to laugh, and eager to make her smile. After the first meeting where both the families were present, Amna gave him her number and they started chatting. Pretty soon they started meeting up for lunches, coffees and dinners. It was also very PG-13, but there was definitely a spark. There was a sexual tension between them, probably because they had found such a comfort between each other. They talked about their past, jobs, likes and dislikes, their wants and desires and what both of them wanted out of marriage. She wanted intimacy, love, companionship and sex. He wanted the same things. Someone he could laugh with. This went on for six months, and the parents seemed to like each other as well. They got engaged in a small ceremony and the wedding date was fixed. Amna had butterflies in her stomach the night she got engaged. And it got much better when she received a text from him, "I don't think I can sleep tonight. Thinking about you too much." Her heart just about melted. She couldn't wait to get married to this man.
Chapter 2: The Kiss
It was two weeks before their wedding. Amna and her fiance had gone to a date: movie and dinner. During dinner, while Amna was regaling him of something that happened a couple of days ago, she noticed that he was half smiling at her with a dazed look in his eyes. She stopped mid story.
"You are not even listening, are you?" She wasn't angry or annoyed, just curious.
He snapped out of it and gave her an embarrassed smile.
"To be perfectly honest, not for the last 20 seconds," he said, not quite meeting her eyes, but still smiling.
"Why? What's wrong?" she asked.
It looked like he was struggling to say whatever he wanted to say, which was unusual because they were very open with each other and had never been shy about telling each other anything during this period of their courtship.
"Well," he began slowly. "It's just that for the past 20 seconds all I could think of was kissing you."
Amna felt herself blush like it was a physical sensation. She felt her cheeks reddening and heating up, blood rushing to her face. The words reverberated in her head, playing again and again, and finally landed in her heart. She was having an internal battle with two sides within herself: the "good" Pakistani girl who shouldn't kiss boys that aren't her husband, and another side which desperately wanted to grab this man's face and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. But she knew that wasn't practical in this crowded restaurant.
So she smiled.
"That's..." she struggled for the right words. "That's really sweet."
It was anticlimactic but the smile that broke out on her fiance's face was everything. It felt like a warm glass of chocolate during a snowy night. He reached out and held her hand, unable to show more affection at that place.
Later, after dinner, he was driving her home, and they were talking, consciously skirting around "the kiss" discussion. Amna was counting the minutes when she would reach her home. Her mind was racing. She was trying very hard to concentrate on the conversation, but one part of her brain was still thinking about the kiss. It was time to make up her mind, and that is exactly what she did.
"Stop at the start of the street," she said to him just as he turned to enter the street where her home was. It was nearing midnight and the street was empty, the houses were dark, people were sleeping. Amna knew she wouldn't be able to sleep if she didn't do what she was about to do.
"What's up?" he said, a little surprised, parking the car at the start of the street.
Without saying anything she leaned over from the passenger scene, grabbed his face and kissed him. It was like fireworks exploded in her brain. It took a second or two for his brain to catchup to what was happening but when it did, he kissed her back. She felt a rush of emotion, and excitement bubble up inside her. They must have kissed for hardly twenty seconds, but it felt like eternity to her. She had always dreamed of first kisses, but she didn't know it would happen like this. However, she had thoroughly enjoyed every second of it.
They broke the kiss and both of them had flaming red faces, and goofy smiles.
"Uh ... ," he began to say something but realised he had no words, so he drove to her house.
"We'll continue this on our wedding night," she said instead of goodbye leaving him speechless and dumbfounded as she squeezed his hand and got out of the car.
Chapter 3: The Wedding Night
A traditional Pakistani wedding is a tiring affair, it has a lot of components and tend to drag on into the night. And it's not a single day event: there are several ceremonies scattered over the course of 2-4 days.
So, Amna didn't know what the actual wedding night would entail, or how tired they would be. She knew she was nervous. And she was excited. And she knew her fiance was feeling the same things. They went through the motions of the wedding, fixing smiles on their face, posing for photographs. Both of them didn't like being the centre of attention, so it was all a very weird experience, but it had to be done.
Once in a while, their eyes would meet amidst the cacophony of camera clicks and flashes, relatives hugging them, and they would just smile nervously at each other. Both of them knew the other was thinking about the night in question.
Finally, the ceremony ended and the bride and the groom were dispatched to their hotel room. As soon as the door closed, Amna who had entered first, turned around and pinned her husband against the door and planted a kiss on his lips. He reciprocated. It was a long, deep kiss, demonstrating their longing and desire for each other. Amna had never felt so aroused in her life, she kept kissing her husband, her lips moving from his lips, to his neck, as he moaned in pleasure, the sound of which only excited her even more.
"Baby ... " he groaned, as Amna kept planting kisses on his neck, while at the same time opening up the buttons of his shirt. "This is fucking amazing."
Amna came up from kissing his chest back to kissing him on the lips.
"I've waited for this for so long, babe," Amna said, between kisses. "I don't wanna waste anymore time."
It seems these were the words that her husband was waiting for, because he lifted her from the hips and carried her to the bed, all the way not breaking their passionate kiss. Amna felt an animalistic passion. She wanted to rip her husband's close off, and she nearly did, as he dropped her on top of the bed and climbed on top of her, kissing her like there's no tomorrow, and as far as they were concerned, tonight was the end of the world.
Amna's top was button on behind and her husband was trying to open it while at the same time not trying to break their kiss. It was adorable, and hot at the same time. Amna bit his lip with her teeth, and the sweet moan he gave turned her on even more than she already was.
"Baby, let's get out of these clothes," she said in between kisses. Her husband smiled at her and planted a deep kiss before getting up, turning the lights dim (but not off, because he wanted to see his beautiful bride in all her glory). He returned to the bed, his shirt already open, with a few buttons missing. As soon as he reached Amna, she pulled him to her and started kissing him, while removing her clothes.
One by one all the items of clothing were removed: her top, his belt, her jewellery, his pants, her traditional wedding dress skirt, his underwear. She was clad in bra and panties, while he was completely naked, with his cock pointing at the ceiling.
Amna looked at her husband's naked body, and finally his rock hard cock. She hadn't seen a dick in real life, hard or soft. She had seen few in R-rated movies containing full frontal nudity, and she had of course seen porn. But this was something else. Someone was hard because of her, because how she made him feel, because he desired her. This thought alone made her feel sexy and confident.
She reached for her husband's naked body, and embraced him, pulling him down to the bed, while she straddled him. She kept kissing him, while his erection pressed against her stomach. It felt amazing. Her soft body against his hard manly men. The feeling of a naked man underneath her surpassed any or all expectations she had dreamed of.
His hands went behind looking for her bra clasp, and he found it. He unhooked her bra and she let it slide. He saw her beautiful breasts for the first time.
"Do you like them?" she said, showcasing her boobs for her husband.
"Are you fucking kidding me?" he said, in lieu of an answer, and immediately reached for her nipples with his tongue, and started licking them. Amna gave a loud moan.
"Oh fuck, babe," she kept moaning. "Fuck, fuck, fuck ... kiss me ..."
They kept making out for the next minute or so, Amna on top of him, her panties now dispatched off as well. Both of them were naked as the day they were born, and it felt so natural and comfortable. It was as if the months of getting to know each other had removed walls between them, and the culmination of their relationship was now as exciting as they had imagined it to be.
Amna slid her tongue down from her husband's neck to his chest, to down below, feeling the ridges of his body through her tongue. She could feel his dick hard against her stomach, and she slid her hand down there slowly. She was about to touch a hard dick for the very first time in her life.
Her hand reached his cock and grasped it. He took a sharp breath, and then moaned, which was a positive smile. Amna planted a kiss just above his cock, a soft sweet kiss, signaling for things to come.
"Baby," she said, looking up to him. "I am going to rock your world."
Chapter 4: The Morning Of
They woke up around noon because the night ended quite late for them. Both of them sprawled naked on the bed, clothes scattered around the room. Her husband woke up first, and saw Amna gently breathing. Flashes of last night raced through his mind: him entering her for the first time, her gasp of pain and pleasure, the slow rhythm with which he made love to her. After the first time, they had held each other, talked a bit and then had another round. And another, and another. It was exhilarating. They finally collapsed in each others arms and fell asleep as soon as their heads hit the pillow.
Now, he got up, still naked, kissed Amna very lightly on her bare shoulder, and walked to the counter to make some coffee for both of them. When he was done, he took both the coffee cups and returned to the bed. He placed Amna's cup on the bedside table, got into the sheets, sitting against the headboard, sipping his coffee.
A few seconds later, Amna stirred, turned around and looked at her naked husband drinking coffee.
"Morning, babe," she said, reaching out to put her arms around his waist.
"Hey, sexy," he said softly, and bent down to kiss her forehead. "Last night was amazing. I got you some coffee."
Amna took the coffee cup, sat up on the bed, her tits covered in hickies, so was her neck and shoulder.
"Last night was fucking great," Amna said, and leaned in to kiss him. They kissed each other softly for a while, each reminiscing about last night's exploits.
"I loved it when you were on top," he said, when they broke the kiss. "Your bouncing tits, the way your face looked when you came. It was heaven, babe."
Amna giggled, and felt herself go red. "It was so hot when I was riding you. It was like nothing mattered, just me and you."
"And for that moment, nothing did matter," he finished the thought. "Did you like it when I held your hands over your heads as I fucked you?"
Amna bit her lip and smiled. "It was fucking hot, babe. I loved every second of it. Can't wait to do it again."
He smiled happily, and then looked at her intently. "Then what are we waiting for?"
He put the coffee cup on the side table, and pulled his wife to him. They started making out, their hands exploring each other's bodies. Amna slid her hand down to his cock, which she felt stiffen in her hand. She already loved the feeling of his hard dick in her hand, and he presumably liked it too because he moaned loudly.
"I fucking love you," he whispered, amidst kissing.
"I love fucking you," she replied, as she straddled him, placing his cock at the entrance of her pussy.
-- The End --
Part II coming soon. Amna and her husband go to honeymoon.