Sure that she was clean, I touched the tip of my tongue to her rosebud. Molly quickly stuffed her face into her pillow to stifle her moans.
I’d seen a porn film where the male partner had done this, so I slipped my hand between Molly’s thighs and found her clitoris. As I circled Molly’s ring with my tongue, I ran my finger over and around her clit.
Molly came sooner and harder than she had with my tongue on her pussy. Her juices gushed from inside her.
I didn’t know it at the time, but my soon-to-be wife was a squirter and multi-orgasmic. I was one lucky guy!
“The scores are tied going into the bottom of the ninth,” Molly intoned as if she was a sports commentator. “Time to make love to me, Paul, please. I want to feel you inside me.”
Molly rolled onto her back and spread her legs. Rock hard but terrified, I moved between her thighs. My large body covered her tiny one. Weirdly, given the height difference between us, once I was in position, between her legs, and with my penis close to the entrance of her vagina, we seemed to be approximately the same size.
I was gazing directly into Molly’s eyes, so I kissed her.
Molly moaned, then lifted her hips so that her labia was pressed against the head of my cock.
“Push your hips forwards, baby. As you push forwards, I’ll push up. That should work.”
But it didn’t. Molly gave a sharp intake of breath as the head of my cock slipped a little inside her. But it hit her hymen, and I was so terrified of hurting her that I couldn’t make myself shove hard enough into her to break it.
I didn’t know what to do. My instinctual brain was screaming, ‘fuck that pussy!’, but my civilised mind was warning me in a low cultured voice, ‘Pain is violence. Under no circumstances shall a man commit an act of violence against a woman.’
Molly fixed it.
“Lie on your back, Paul. I’m going to ride you.”
I quickly rolled over.
Molly knelt with her knees on either side of my body. She took my cock in her hand and guided it to the entrance of her pussy. Molly placed her right hand in the middle of my chest for balance, held my extreme erection in her hand, and then slowly lowered herself onto it.
I closed my eyes and concentrated as hard as I could on not ruining everything by cumming too soon again. The temptation to look became too much, and my eyes opened just in time to feel something stretch and then tear across the head of my penis.
I heard Molly yelp softly as her hymen broke and saw a splash of blood spray onto my pubic bone.
In wonder, I felt Molly’s pubis come to rest on my pubic bone. Her perineum was hot against my balls.
Neither of us were a virgin anymore.
It was more than my 19-year-old’s lusts could take. Molly had to hold her hands over my mouth to try to stifle the expansive groan I gave as I came inside her tightly gripping pussy.
Molly held still as I spasmed again and again, and then for a third, fourth, and fifth time inside her.
“You feel so good inside me, Paul,” Molly breathily whispered. “I’m going to try and ride you, okay?”
I quickly nodded.
This time, I hadn’t gone soft at all after cumming. It was like my mind had gone, ‘this is what a man does he comes inside his woman. Now you need to take care of her needs’.
Molly was able to work out how to lift and lower her hips in no time at all, and her hot wet pussy was soon sliding deliciously up and down my cock.
Molly leaned forward to watch her pussy raise and lower on my erection.
“That feels so wild, Paul,” she moaned. “So wild and so very good. Oh my! Oh, my sweet Jesus, I’m going to cum.”
I felt something warm and wet splash over my balls and run between my thighs. It was all I could do to not orgasm again, but I wanted to hold off in case Molly needed some more.
She did.
Molly took my hands from where I was clenching the bedsheets and placed them on her big nippled, tiny breasts. Tossing her head, her dark brown hair flying all over the place and biting her bottom lip to stop from moaning, she rode me like I was the second running horse in The Melbourne Cup, and she was going to drive me to first if it killed her.
I didn’t think I could last another second when Molly fell forward onto my chest, kissed my mouth, and said, “Cum in me, Paul. Cum, and we’ll make a baby together.”
There was no way of stopping it. My nuts squeezed tight against my shaft, and I pumped Molly’s slippery pussy full of semen. As I came in her, Molly stuffed her wrist in her mouth to bite so the groans of her cumming wouldn’t be too loud.
My balls received another washing with Molly’s juices.
Molly slid off me and then lay on her side so she could put her head on my chest.
She sighed deeply, “That was so good, Paul. I think, maybe, you should sleep over again tomorrow night. We’ll make love again, just to make sure I’m pregnant, okay?”
There was not one place, or anyone else, in the world I wanted to be or be with just then!
“What do you think we should name our first son, Paul?” Molly asked.
I smiled. I knew Molly well enough to know she had already decided the names of our prospective children.
“I always liked Albuquerque,” I joked, picking the weirdest name I could think of on the spur of the moment.
“Your need to make jokes at the worst of times can be very endearing, Paul, just not right now,” Molly admonished me. “I’m being serious. What do you think we should call him?”
“How do you know it won’t be a girl?” I asked.
“Because I’m having three boys and then a girl,” Molly told me as if it was already a done deal.
“Boys first because they need the most work young, and the least work old. Then a girl because you will need someone to look after you after I’m gone,” she added in what proved to be an eerily prophetic statement.
We made love three more times that night before, around 5.00 am, Molly woke me and shooed me off back to the couch in time for her father to see me when he got up at 6.30 am to start work.
I couldn’t sleep, so when Pat got up, I got off the couch and made us a cup of tea.
Sitting opposite him at the table, I waited until he had finished his first cup and made him another before I said to him, “I’d like your permission to date Molly, Mr Spencer, please.”
Pat looked evenly at me for a time before saying, “You both have my blessing, Paul.”
He held a finger up, though, “I know you kids are all screwing as soon as you get old enough these days, but I don’t like it. I think men and women need to be emotionally mature before they commit to something as meaningful as sex. Valerie and I were both virgins on our wedding night. I was 23, Val 21. I want Molly to be at least that old and married before she gives herself to a man.”
‘Too late,’ I thought. But I sure as hell wasn’t going to say that now.
“How would you feel if I asked her to marry me?” I ventured.
I got an even flatter stare.
Pat’s a good guy, but he’s huge, easily 6 ft. 5 in (196 cm) and at least 276 lbs (125 kg), and rules his household with a firm, fair hand. Molly had him wrapped around her little finger, though.
“And what does my daughter say about this? Does she know you want to date her?”