The Honeymoon

Pure fiction. Everyone involved is an adult.

Mostly chastity, teasing, and denial.

---

My new wife gently tugged on my hand, hurrying me into the room that was to be our home for the next week. I set our bags down by the door and looked around for a long moment, taking in the room. I wanted to drink in every detail.

Earlier that day, I had married Sarah, the girl of my dreams, and I felt like any second I was going to wake up and realize none of it was real.

It had been a small ceremony, and an even smaller reception, as we were both in our early twenties and neither of us had a lot of money. But we had managed to save up for a modest honeymoon and figured that the room should at least be comfortable if we were going to spend our first married nights there. Sarah mentioned this place; she said she had been here before and really enjoyed herself. From the outside, it didn’t look like anything special to me.

It was an unremarkable, single-storey hotel, right off the interstate, out in BFE. There was nothing for miles in any direction and I couldn’t really understand what there was around here to enjoy.

I mean, it was nice enough; not seedy or anything. It just wasn’t anything special. Why did we come to the middle of nowhere to stay at this specific hotel?

In the room, everything was typical hotel colors – lots of beiges and pastels. There was one large bed in the center of the opposite wall with an old-fashioned headboard and bed frame that looked like wrought-iron. It looked like something out of an old-timey asylum, or something.

On the right side of the room, there was a small desk with a chair and two open doors – one to the bathroom and the other to a small closet.

There was a large sliding-glass door to the left. Sarah walked over and opened the vertical blinds, filling the room with light and revealing a view of the hotel pool beyond. It was late in the day, so there weren’t a lot of people out there at the moment, but I was surprised at how close we were. Our door couldn’t have been more than ten feet from the backs of the nearest sun chairs. There were a few other couples around our age sitting around and talking. Maybe other honeymooners? One woman glanced in our direction, then went back to her conversation.

Sarah turned back to me, smiling playfully, and asked, “So, husband, it’s officially our wedding night. What should we do now?” She raised one eyebrow and I felt my cheeks burn slightly; I knew I was blushing. My dick twitched slightly, the only movement it could manage. I was speechless.

She already knew exactly what I wanted to do. This was our wedding night. She knew how excited I was, and why.

I had grown up in an extremely religious home and had been very sheltered. I went to an all boys school and wasn’t allowed to go anywhere else without my parents, so I never got to hang out with any girls, outside of family. So I was twenty-two years old and never even kissed anybody, let alone had sex. My mother believed all intimacy should be confined to marriage, and my parents never even hugged us growing up. So, to say I was starved for physical affection would be an understatement.

Just before I hit puberty, my mother decided that soon my “animal desires” would overcome me, and she had forced me to wear a chastity device to keep me pure. I was only allowed to take it off to bathe. She would make me pull the lock up out of my waistband and unlock it in front of her, because she had the only key and she needed to be sure I didn’t cut the lock off and replace it with another somehow. Even then, though, she would turn off the hot water so my shower would be ice-cold, and I wouldn’t succumb to any “unnatural urges”.

It was all so extreme that my baby brother ran away a few years ago, and none of us had seen him since. He and I had been close, but I didn’t blame him. I just didn’t have the nerve to do the same, after all the Bible does say to honor thy Father and thy Mother.

So, there I was: not only a virgin, but a virgin who had never even masturbated. I was twenty-two and had never had an orgasm, except in my sleep. I still lived at home, because my parents wouldn’t let me move out until I got married. I went to college online and didn’t have any friends, except online. It was kind of pathetic, but I was scared that it would make God mad if I disobeyed my parents.

Worst of all, my mother insisted I continue to wear the chastity device until she could hand the key to the girl I married. The problem was, I didn’t expect to find anybody to marry me. Not really.

I didn’t think any girl would put up with my particular situation. Talking to people online was even more discouraging. No girls wanted to be with a virgin. They definitely weren’t going to be with a guy who had no idea what it felt like to even touch himself; they thought it was creepy.

Eventually I managed to find a website dedicated specifically to connecting couples that were saving themselves for marriage.

That’s where I met Sarah.

Sarah was perfect. She loved the fact that I was completely pure. She always said that, even if it was frustrating, it made my life simpler. In one of our early conversations, she admitted that she had masturbated before, and she said that once you got off for the first time, it’s all you could think about. It was like an addiction. She still did it from time to time, because that’s how much it consumed you, but she wished she could go back and never do it the first time. She said she had always dreamed of finding someone exactly like me: someone who could experience everything for the first time with her.

Even my parents loved her. After we got engaged, they had agreed to let us go on a handful of dates by ourselves. It was just as great in person, she never made me feel weird for my total lack of experience.

Honestly, I figured that was the main reason we ended up together. She was very sweet, but she was definitely out of my league. I mean, I wasn’t ugly, just really average. I was like this hotel, nothing you’d write home about.

Then again, she did seem to love this hotel.

The point is, she could have had anyone she wanted, and she picked me. I felt truly blessed.

“Well?” she asked. “What should we do with our evening?”

My pulse quickened as she stepped away from the sliding-glass door and moved slowly toward me. Her big eyes seemed to stare straight into me as she walked, swinging her hips seductively with each step. I was terrified and thrilled at the same time.

She pointed lazily behind her, “We could go swimming.”

“I- I was thinking-” I stammered. I couldn’t think of anything to say. My dick was straining in its plastic prison, trying so hard just to get hard.

As if reading my mind, she glanced down at my crotch. A wide smile spread across her face, like she could see my cock struggling to grow beyond the confines of the tube. “I know what you were thinking, you dirty boy.” She bit her lower lip.

“Well, I-”

“Don’t worry,” she cut me off, holding a hand up to silence me, “I’m thinking the same thing.” Her hands reached down and slowly began to unbutton her blouse, from the bottom up.

I closed my eyes and thanked God for getting me through nearly a decade of chastity, and added a quick prayer asking that he not let me throw up from nerves.

Given our beliefs, I had never seen Sarah in anything less than a one-piece bathing suit, but I was so in love with her that I would’ve thought she was perfect no matter what her body looked like. I always assumed that she had no major flaws, though, since she never expressed any nervousness about our first time, and we talked about it a lot.

At first we had just talked about getting married and having kids. We both wanted to start a family right away, so the topic of sex came up early on. It stayed innocent enough for a while, but she had actually started to tease me, intentionally trying to get me worked up, the past few months.

It started with her hugging me a little tighter, and a little longer than before. Feeling her body, feeling her chest pressed against mine was enough to make my chastity tube feel tight, and she would giggle a bit when it made me squirm. When I got used to that, she moved on to kissing my cheek. That doesn’t sound especially sexy, I know, but everything we did was a first for me. Her breath on my face was enough to drive me wild.

Recently, after kissing my cheek, she had begun to say increasingly naughty things in my ear. First, she said how much it turned her on to think about my dick trying to get hard in my tube, but not being able to. Then, she couldn’t wait to touch a dick that nobody else ever had, not even me.

One day last week, as she was giving me a goodnight hug, she whispered in my ear, “I’m gonna go home and finger myself, thinking about your balls being so achingly full.” Without pulling away she turned her head to look straight into my eyes, “It makes me cum so hard to know that you can’t.” I turned to meet her eyes. “Does that make you love me any less?”

I assured her that it did not. She was usually so sweet that I did think it was a little weird for her to say, but only Jesus himself could have stopped me from marrying this girl. Besides, it was incredibly arousing to think about her, thinking about me and touching herself. It took a long time for me to fall asleep that night, and my dreams were not relaxing.

But all the waiting was finally over. My dick throbbed and my balls tightened in anticipation of the coming release.

Sarah released the top button of her blouse and opened it, allowing it to slide off her shoulders to the floor. The glint of the key hanging from her necklace was the first thing that caught my eye.

She had the key to my freedom right there! It was really happening!

Her white bra was small and lacy. I had seen pictures of underwear-clad ladies in department stores while shopping for clothes, and I could tell this one was meant to be sexy. And it was doing its job very well. My dick was pushing on the tube so hard that the ring that it locked to was pulling on my scrotum painfully. My whole body was aching with unbearable need.