04-03-2022, 09:42 AM
My calmness towards her frame of mind changed to that of anger. "Oh for Gods sake Stacy," I hollered, "how the hell do you think you'll achieve this then?"
"Well I think I look nice tonight," she retorted, maintaining composure. "I expect I could have my pick of men, especially with this particular selection of underwear on." She lifted her dress to her waist, exposing the curve of her thighs, partly covered by sheer white stockings being held in place firmly above high-cut white panties by tightly fitted suspender straps. The sight was glorious to behold. I reacted instantly as any man would when confronted by such a sight. She knew it was having the desired affect, and continued to hold the hem of her dress for more than a lingering moment.
I began to think that it was all some kind of elaborate tease she had concocted, and duly presented a sly grin in towards her. She turned about, still holding her dress high and flaunted her rear towards me. The smooth tight shape of her bum, concealed by the mere covering of snugly fitted panties, wiggled in front of my eyes. I was in rapture, hypnotized by the sight of my new wife's perfect body shape.
"Do you still think I would have trouble getting a man back to the room?" she enquired as I continued gawking. I shook my head and found one of my hands gripping the stirring shape under my trousers. "Does Mark want Stacy to lose her cherry tonight?" This time I nodded, my heart beating rapidly, the torture oozing its way into my head. "Take it out baby." She motioned to the hand resting on my lap, moving herself towards where I still sat on the edge of the bed. I unzipped myself, sank a hand into the gap and pulled out my manhood. She continued to display her underwear. I raised my free arm to acquire a touch of her displayed flesh. She beckoned it away. "No darling," she whispered.
"Stacy I need you so badly," I pleaded, beginning to massage my manhood, demonstrating the unyielding need I possessed.
"Oh honey, Stacy was hoping for a bit more of an offer than that." She looked at the hand on my lap - a small amount of glans poking trough the gripped fist. "It's very thin. Take your hand away and let me see it all baby." I released my hand and lay back on the bed. My cock sprung back and went to rest on my tummy. "Oh dear," she continued, "there's not much too it. Are they all like that?"
"More or less" I responded.
"Hopefully more," was her reply. "My poor husband. No wonder you were so eager to marry me. You do want me to be happy don't you?"
"Of course I do honey,"
"Well what a waste, me all dressed up like this and that being all that is on offer."
She pouted her lips in a mock sulk. "Are you impressed with what is on offer here?" She reinforced her question by thrusting her crotch near to my face. I nodded, moving my hand faster. "And do you think it would be wasted on you?" I gave no reaction, fixing my eyes on her flat tummy over which the thin suspender belt was wrapped. "I need to go all the way tonight honey," she remarked. "Look at the state I'm in." She fingered aside the front of her exposed panties revealing vaginal lips, flushed, swollen and prominent between the small line of hair that parted way for them. My sight firmly transfixed on this vision, my hand increased its momentum between my legs. I tensed, emitted a moan and flopped backwards onto the bed. A sudden gush of fluid shot up from in-between my clenched fingers making her jolt back from the line of fire. She released the hem of her dress and all the loveliness previously on display disappeared from my view. The image still burned in my head as my breathing began to find its normal pace again.
"You sure have a funny way of teasing me Stacy," I remarked.
"Oh honey, I'm not teasing. Now that you've had your fun, it's time for me to discover the fruit." She gave me a wicked smile. "And luckily you never got a drop on my lovely dress."
As if to reinforce her intention, she viewed her reflection in the full-length mirror by the door. She brushed her hair with a hand, pausing to cast me a wink trough the mirror. "I'll be back shortly darling. You have a bath and clean yourself up."
I only know what she told me later on, but she had made her way to the hotel lounge, still dressed in the her full wedding attire, and sat by the bar. Of course many of the residents chatted idly to her, enquiring why a delightful looking bride was alone in the bar. Many gentlemen offered to buy her a drink which she gladly accepted. It seemed that many people, quite rightly, were intrigued by the fact she was alone at the bar. But men being men saw it as an opportunity to strike a conversation with her. She told me that some sat only for a moment asking about her predicament. Most were sacred off, thinking it was rather unusual for a woman who'd just wed to be away from her new husband. But then came Clive, a businessman staying at the hotel, to the bar for a drink. Stacy was inspired by his charm and coolness as he enquired of her well being. He didn't make an issue, never badgered her for a response, just chatted in an easy unforced manner. Of course she could tell right off that he was impressed by the way she looked.
Clive was in his late fifties, a tall striking looking man with an air of confidence, well dressed in an obviously expensive suit. He remarked that Stacy reminded him of his own wife on their wedding day, telling her that he was so happy she had provided him this memory. His wife had died a few years previously, and he had never re-married as he believed he could never find anyone as beautiful. Stacy enquired as to what his honeymoon night had been like, and of course this piqued his interest. He pulled up a chair and ordered expensive champagne.
After a few rapid glasses of the champagne, Stacy confessed that she couldn't go trough with the expected nigh-time nuptials. She fabricated a story that she had difficulty in relaxing as I had touched her. She had felt a failure, so had entered the bar to loosen herself up with a few drinks. She told him also that we both were virgins and were unsure how to progress the coupling. He had laughed saying that he couldn't understand how any man could fail her looking the way she did. Over a few more drinks, as they had become more and more intimate, she invited him up to meet me - to reassure and convince me that it would be alright.
I heard the door open and close, not looking up form my position under the many sheets on the bridal bed. I had bathed and lay with the light off reliving the incident before she had departed.
"Well I think I look nice tonight," she retorted, maintaining composure. "I expect I could have my pick of men, especially with this particular selection of underwear on." She lifted her dress to her waist, exposing the curve of her thighs, partly covered by sheer white stockings being held in place firmly above high-cut white panties by tightly fitted suspender straps. The sight was glorious to behold. I reacted instantly as any man would when confronted by such a sight. She knew it was having the desired affect, and continued to hold the hem of her dress for more than a lingering moment.
I began to think that it was all some kind of elaborate tease she had concocted, and duly presented a sly grin in towards her. She turned about, still holding her dress high and flaunted her rear towards me. The smooth tight shape of her bum, concealed by the mere covering of snugly fitted panties, wiggled in front of my eyes. I was in rapture, hypnotized by the sight of my new wife's perfect body shape.
"Do you still think I would have trouble getting a man back to the room?" she enquired as I continued gawking. I shook my head and found one of my hands gripping the stirring shape under my trousers. "Does Mark want Stacy to lose her cherry tonight?" This time I nodded, my heart beating rapidly, the torture oozing its way into my head. "Take it out baby." She motioned to the hand resting on my lap, moving herself towards where I still sat on the edge of the bed. I unzipped myself, sank a hand into the gap and pulled out my manhood. She continued to display her underwear. I raised my free arm to acquire a touch of her displayed flesh. She beckoned it away. "No darling," she whispered.
"Stacy I need you so badly," I pleaded, beginning to massage my manhood, demonstrating the unyielding need I possessed.
"Oh honey, Stacy was hoping for a bit more of an offer than that." She looked at the hand on my lap - a small amount of glans poking trough the gripped fist. "It's very thin. Take your hand away and let me see it all baby." I released my hand and lay back on the bed. My cock sprung back and went to rest on my tummy. "Oh dear," she continued, "there's not much too it. Are they all like that?"
"More or less" I responded.
"Hopefully more," was her reply. "My poor husband. No wonder you were so eager to marry me. You do want me to be happy don't you?"
"Of course I do honey,"
"Well what a waste, me all dressed up like this and that being all that is on offer."
She pouted her lips in a mock sulk. "Are you impressed with what is on offer here?" She reinforced her question by thrusting her crotch near to my face. I nodded, moving my hand faster. "And do you think it would be wasted on you?" I gave no reaction, fixing my eyes on her flat tummy over which the thin suspender belt was wrapped. "I need to go all the way tonight honey," she remarked. "Look at the state I'm in." She fingered aside the front of her exposed panties revealing vaginal lips, flushed, swollen and prominent between the small line of hair that parted way for them. My sight firmly transfixed on this vision, my hand increased its momentum between my legs. I tensed, emitted a moan and flopped backwards onto the bed. A sudden gush of fluid shot up from in-between my clenched fingers making her jolt back from the line of fire. She released the hem of her dress and all the loveliness previously on display disappeared from my view. The image still burned in my head as my breathing began to find its normal pace again.
"You sure have a funny way of teasing me Stacy," I remarked.
"Oh honey, I'm not teasing. Now that you've had your fun, it's time for me to discover the fruit." She gave me a wicked smile. "And luckily you never got a drop on my lovely dress."
As if to reinforce her intention, she viewed her reflection in the full-length mirror by the door. She brushed her hair with a hand, pausing to cast me a wink trough the mirror. "I'll be back shortly darling. You have a bath and clean yourself up."
I only know what she told me later on, but she had made her way to the hotel lounge, still dressed in the her full wedding attire, and sat by the bar. Of course many of the residents chatted idly to her, enquiring why a delightful looking bride was alone in the bar. Many gentlemen offered to buy her a drink which she gladly accepted. It seemed that many people, quite rightly, were intrigued by the fact she was alone at the bar. But men being men saw it as an opportunity to strike a conversation with her. She told me that some sat only for a moment asking about her predicament. Most were sacred off, thinking it was rather unusual for a woman who'd just wed to be away from her new husband. But then came Clive, a businessman staying at the hotel, to the bar for a drink. Stacy was inspired by his charm and coolness as he enquired of her well being. He didn't make an issue, never badgered her for a response, just chatted in an easy unforced manner. Of course she could tell right off that he was impressed by the way she looked.
Clive was in his late fifties, a tall striking looking man with an air of confidence, well dressed in an obviously expensive suit. He remarked that Stacy reminded him of his own wife on their wedding day, telling her that he was so happy she had provided him this memory. His wife had died a few years previously, and he had never re-married as he believed he could never find anyone as beautiful. Stacy enquired as to what his honeymoon night had been like, and of course this piqued his interest. He pulled up a chair and ordered expensive champagne.
After a few rapid glasses of the champagne, Stacy confessed that she couldn't go trough with the expected nigh-time nuptials. She fabricated a story that she had difficulty in relaxing as I had touched her. She had felt a failure, so had entered the bar to loosen herself up with a few drinks. She told him also that we both were virgins and were unsure how to progress the coupling. He had laughed saying that he couldn't understand how any man could fail her looking the way she did. Over a few more drinks, as they had become more and more intimate, she invited him up to meet me - to reassure and convince me that it would be alright.
I heard the door open and close, not looking up form my position under the many sheets on the bridal bed. I had bathed and lay with the light off reliving the incident before she had departed.
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