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Her back hit the soft mattress with a soft thump, the edges of her tsunokakushi slowly being pulled down by gravity to reveal more of her face. Her bright, turquoise blue eyes were fogged by an uncharacteristic look of lust. If this was an ecchi manga, Suou Masachika swore, there would be hearts in his bride's pupils.
The two families had come to an agreement. Following the traditions of their homeland was extremely important to the old, aristocratic Suou family. That went double for their heir, which led to Masachika and his bride Alisa walking down the aisle in kimonos, his own a layered mix of white covered by black, while Alya’s stayed a pure white, it’s fine silk perfectly matching her hair.
Compromises had been made, of course the end result being an awkward mash-up of traditions. A shrine had not been set to house the wedding, for one, and a western exchange of rings was of course required, even if the traditional sake-sharing remained.
Most of that was far from the forefront of Masachika’s mind as he peeled off his attire piece by piece, silently cursing the intricate layered design he had been forced into. He couldn’t criticise his new wife’s desires, seeing as he was just as guilty, but at the moment, he didn’t particularly care.
Being just barely careful enough not to rip his kimono, he managed to strip down to his last layer, beginning to shrug it off and reveal his toned body, before making the mistake of looking at his wife.
She’s still laying on the bed, just as he left her, but the fabrics around her are now splayed across the sheets instead of covering her delectable body, now only covered by black underwear that is best described as lingerie, leaving far too little to the imagination. His brain freezes as a low growl escapes his throat, a primal need swelling within him. His hands move feverishly, desperately trying to join her in a state of undress as soon as possible.
Alya looks at him from below, an amused glint in her eyes, propped up slightly on her elbows.
That just won’t do.
“Off.” He growls. His bride moves to get up, but then he elaborates: “I mean the bra. Take it off.” The fierce blush on her face, he knows, is no longer only from the sake at the ceremony, as she bashfully unclips her bra, her other arm moving to cover her bountiful chest. He grabs it before she can, though, as leans forward, lips ever so close to her ear, and whispers: “Don’t cover your beauty like that.”
They’ve never gone this far, but expecting a pair of engaged teenagers to stay completely innocent is wish fulfilment of the highest degree, especially so for a couple in love.
So both have already discovered that Alya is surprisingly willing to give up control. It’s unlike her domineering public persona, but she finds enjoyment in letting go for once and letting Masachika take the lead.
In short, the feeling of control isn’t unfamiliar to him. Especially as he looms over the half-naked love of his life and claims her lips in a heated kiss. Unlike the one at the wedding earlier that day, which was meant to symbolise their love and commitment, this one is hot and fast, signifying their lust and desire.
He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting their lips before yielding to gravity, snapping in the process. Her cheeks are crimson and heated, and he can see her breath fogging up, even in the warm hotel room.
“More…” she moans out, and Masachika is eager to oblige, his lips darting down once again, claiming hers. Their tongues intertwine again, and he can feel her need .
His mind, clouded by lust, desperately taking in the sight before him: His beautiful wife, silvery-white hair splayed around her like a halo, a prominent blush colouring her cheeks, her panting causing her bountiful chest to rise and fall, those beautiful mounds rolling up and down.
Her long, silky legs wrap around him, pulling him ever closer, before he makes his decision, sticking two of his fingers into her panties, heading directly for the wet spot that is slowly forming.
“Masachika…” she manages to get out as he slips them inside her, drawing another moan from her lips. He sets to work immediately, teasing at her walls and peppering her neck with kisses, resisting the urge to bite down on the soft flesh he finds there, to mark her as his for the world to see.
It’s an idea he files away for later, continuing to showcase the dexterity he’s gained through years of study behind the piano. Alya’s moans, yelps and exclamations of “Yes!” sound like music to his ears, filling the room.
Eventually, the pleasure is enough to drive Alya over the edge. He can feel her pussy tighten around his fingers, and her eyes start rolling back. Quickly moving to silence her with a kiss, the girl under him screams into his mouth as the first orgasm of the night fully hits her, and her arms finally collapse under her.
Carefully picking her up, Masachika moves his wife to the other side of the bed, before hooking his thumbs around the sides of her now-soaked lingerie, pulling it down past those shapely thighs and off her, leaving her fully naked and out of breath. Carefully collecting their kimonos, hastily throwing it over a chair as best he can, his underwear soon joins them, revealing his already erect dick.
Making his way back over to his love, hoping she’s recovered enough by now.
Judging by how she’s sitting upright, legs dangling over the edge, she has, and he takes great pleasure in cupping her cheek, drawing her into another kiss, feeling her tits press up against his chest and the tip of his cock resting against her stomach.
They pull apart again for what feels like the millionth time today, her taste more familiar than his own at this point. His desire for the woman in front of him is overflowing, his brain feeling like it’s filled with molasses, thoughts coming oh so slow, except those pertaining to absolutely ravaging the girl in front of him. He manages to hold on long enough to ask one last time, though: “Are you ready, Alya?”
It’s not asking for permission, he’s not sure if either of them would take no for an answer at this point, but it is asking confirmation, if she wants him to take her completely, to make love to her and let loose like there’s no tomorrow.
Her answer comes in Russian: “Of course, Masachika. In fact,” she pauses, a teasing smile slipping onto her face, “I want you to…”
“mess”
“me”
“up.”
The statement thoroughly destroys whatever is left of his self control, and he tackles her onto her back, his arms pinning her legs next to her head, her own soon following to keep them locked there in a display of flexibility.
The mating press is brutally honest with Suou Masachika’s desires: he’s going to plough Alya into the bed, and isn’t stopping until he’s filled her womb as full as it will go. His wife’s eyes light up in recognition, before quickly clouding over once again as she flashes a devious grin up at him.
And it’s all the permission he needs to press his hips down, breaking through the slight resistance of her virginity at the entrance of her pussy. She lets out a small yelp, and he lets the pained expression slowly fade from her face before pressing in fully, bottoming out against her cervix.
Her breathing indicates she’s still adjusting, but he doesn’t give his love the chance, withdrawing until only his tip is left in her cunt, before thrusting down once again, drawing another moan across the threshold of her beautiful lips.
It’s chaotic at first, both getting used to the sensation, but he he manages to find to find a steady rhythm after a few feverish thrusts, and he fully takes in the scene below him:
His wife, Alya Mikhailovna Suou, the love of his life, is lying below him. Her full, E-cup breasts are bouncing in time to his thrusts, fitting perfectly between the two creamy legs that are on either side. Her face, expression locked into one of pleasure and ecstasy, trying to keep her eyes from rolling back in her skull and mouth from hanging fully open.
God, she’s perfect.
He takes one of his hands off of her legs, gently cupping the right half of her face, before sticking his thumb in her half-open mouth. She gets the message, and immediately wraps her lips around it, applying as much suction as she can in her situation.
It’s pure heaven, the state they’re in, but he knows it can’t last. He can feel the pleasure building at the base of his cock, trying to escape out, to mark her as his , inside and out. To make that stomach of hers plump and full of his kids, to get her pregnant. To breed her full .
He lets her know as much, and she manages an answer: “Do it, my love! Fill me up!”
Masachika doesn’t need to be told twice, and easily agrees, letting go of whatever in his body was holding back, fully sheathing himself inside her and staying there. Then he can’t keep it in any longer, and he starts cumming.
The waves of his orgasm flow into her, and she lets his thumb out of her mouth, an orgasmic scream replacing as she hits her own climax. The strength of his body leaves him as he can’t do anything but lay there, pumping shot after shot of his seed into her willing womb.
He lies there for a moment. He can’t find the energy, physically or mentally, to end the moment they are in right now. But, as their orgasms wind down, he knows he has to move on, to end the present as it is.
That doesn’t mean that their night has to end, though, far from it. He moves over to the nightstand, a bottle of water on it, quickly unscrewing the cap and downing a quarter of it in a single gulp, even if half of it escapes his mouth as he desperately drinks down whatever he can get in his mouth.
Then he makes the mistake of turning to offer some to his bride, and comes face-to-face with the sight of her, sprawled out on the bed, a dollop of his cum dripping from her cunt, and a large, dopey smile spread across her face.
“More…” She slurs out, a mix of the alcohol and cock-drunkness making it a miracle she can even speak words at this point, “Mess me up more, Masachikaaaaaa…”
Holding the bottle over her own lips, she greedily gulps down whatever she can, even if the glint in her eyes tells him there’s something she’d like to be drinking far more right now. A smug smile finds its way to him. An idea for later, perhaps.
First, though, he has another problem. His seed has been spilling out of her for a while now, so he might need to give her a fresh batch.
Discarding the “might”, Masachika roughly grabs Alya’s hips, flipping her around onto her hands and knees. Her arms quickly give out, however, and she falls face-first into the pillow, back arching as he keeps her backside upright.
Masachika is a breast man, he will admit that any day of the week, but that isn’t to say he can’t find appreciation for a decent ass too. And Alya’s has gone far beyond that metric. He really can’t help himself, lifting one of his hands and bringing it down in a meaty ‘slap!’ .
He hears a muffled moan sound into the pillow in front of him. Resisting the urge for another, he instead lines his manhood up with her pussy and thrusts forward.
A moan-turned-scream immediately erupts from beneath him, muted as the bedsheets make it. He doesn’t give his wife a chance to catch her bearings, though, immediately pulling out halfway and slamming back in.
Masachika’s hand comes down in another slap on Alya’s rear, and he feels her clench around him, the added friction making him groan in pleasure. His love notices, and she turns her head back towards him ever-so-slightly, a familiar playful glint in her eyes, even as they flutter shut when another bolt of pleasure shoots through her.
This time, though, it’s too far. Suou Masachika has had enough of her teasing, and the hand that has been spanking her ass red for the last few thrusts grabs the back of her head and drives it into the pillows in front of her.
He can feel her enjoyment as she tightens up, gripping ever harder on his cock as he continues pistoning back and forth. Threading his fingers through her silky hair has an even greater effect, her pussy clenching around his cock.
He keeps going, half-tempted to pull her up by her hair, but ultimately deciding against it. It’s still their wedding night, after all. Still, what he’s doing now is more than enough stimulation for Alya, and eventually she can’t hold it anymore, spasming around his dick and letting her shaking knees almost collapse out from underneath her.
He barely manages to keep her up until his own orgasm hits, creampieing her for the second time that night. His body seizes up, cum pouring into his wife, and he can barely even breathe, the pleasure hitting him like a truck.
Then all the strength leaves him and he collapses forward onto the love of his life, exhaustion seeping into his bones, though he manages to gather enough energy to roll off of her and pull some sheets over the two of them.
It’s how he ends the most important day of his life, on his side, her back pressed flat against his chest, her scent guiding him off to sleep.