“I want to feel my husband’s big juicy cock embedded deep inside me,” she breathed. “Today I’m not your slave, toy, lamb, or pet. You’re not the top and I’m not the bottom. I’m no old lady. Today I’m your wife.”
Oaklyn was right. We were on the same page, the same level, the same head space as I slid my dick inside her.
We didn’t have to attend church to be forgiven for our transgressions. Only a few doomed to perdition like Ladell Pratt would never earn forgiveness. At moments like that, pinning my wife to the warm rock with the strength of my burgeoning sex, I knew she was my God, my faith, my trust. As a youth, I’d relied on myself, my own intuition, my own trustworthiness. That power was doubled with our union.
Sliding in and out of her was a form of meditation, a prayer. Each stroke reaffirmed my faith and belief in her supremacy. My drive came from within me, not some outside agency. I had relied on myself before, myself and my men. With the formation of my new house on Little Wing Street, our unity became even more potent. I could rely on Oaklyn and Deloy. I guess that made us what they call a “family.”
Being Oaklyn, she couldn’t resist some dirty talk. “Oh, God. That’s right. Give it to me, husband. Give me every inch of your fat, juicy dick.”
Balls-deep inside my wife, I tried to take it slow. I wanted to savor the moment. I knew that never again would I be fucking my newlywed wife against a slab of iron oxide while the Great White Throne gleamed like a fluorescent Halloween tombstone, shining its reflected light on our naked, balling skin.
I was blissfully happy. And I knew I deserved it.
OAKLYN
I was uttering some filthy language. I mean, how many times do you get to screw your newly minted husband in such a theater of glory?
I probably said some things like, “Fuck me, husband. Do me good. I want to feel you deep, deep inside me, up against my womb.”
It was Levon who had made a sea change since we’d met. He’d become independent because the heavens had shut their doors to him. His crisis of faith at the hands of those fundies had given him space for liberty, freedom, self-rule. He’d been acting on his own authority, a self-contained panic room of anger and mistrust, a chip on his shoulder. The abandonment of a God from his life had left him standing on his own two, bitter feet.
I’d entered his life during a rough time. He was ready to grow into the sort of man I’d be proud of. I knew he’d be a good father by seeing how he protected Deloy. The Chop Shop was a resounding success. He had more students than he knew what to do with. He was a member of the Chamber of Commerce.
He was fucking me in front of the Great White Throne.
His nice, fat penis pulsed inside of me when he held himself there, prolonging the bliss. I could feel it jumping to come, but Levon delayed it. He held my jaw and forced me to look at him.
He panted, “I love you with all the force in me.”
I touched my nose to his. “And you’re not even under the influence.”
“Well, maybe a little.”
Now I clutched his cock with my inner muscles, making him gasp and twitch. That got to him every time, and he swiveled his hips with renewed energy.
I loved to clutch and feel his bicep muscles when he fucked me. He put every fiber and cell into it, lifting me with his hips, screwing me into the rock with his long cock.
I watched his face when he came. I loved doing that. Men are so vulnerable, at their most honest and without defenses, when they come. He could never keep his eyes open during such heights of bliss. I was able to examine him freely as he pulsed his load inside me. The trapezius muscles in his neck tensed and corded. His eyelids fluttered as though he were dreaming.
Slowly, one deep gulp of air at a time, he started breathing again. He shook his head like a dog getting out of a lake, then he opened his eyes. When he saw me, he smiled widely, as though surprised to see me there.
“Wow,” he breathed, “being married agrees with us.”
I gave his cock one last squeeze with my Kegels. I knew I’d been exercising them for years for a reason. “We’d better get you to the party, since you’re the man of the hour.”
“We are.” He let me down gently. I had to feel for a foothold on the smaller rocks as he stuffed his cock back into his jeans. He looked sideways at me, almost shyly. “Now I know.”
I was pulling my dress down below my knees. “Know what?”
“I know I’ve finally seen the goodness of love, the great hand of kindness and trust.”
I smiled. “I was just thinking the same thing. We’re all misfits coming together, people damaged in some way. Now we can hear the whispering of God in our hearts, because we have each other.”
“Right,” he said with assurance. “Who needs what the fundies have? They’ve got it all wrong anyhow.”
Lazarus almost scared me, how quickly he came bounding around the corner of the rock. He trailed his leash almost soundlessly.