It’s true. She’s my wife now.
I say, “I can hardly wait.”
She lays a hand on my chest and smiles. I want to take her right here and now. She says, “Cool down, big boy. Looks like I’ve got a couple hundred of your closest friends and relatives to meet first.”
Hard to believe I only met her fifteen minutes ago. Now we’re getting wedding pictures taken, though I don’t have much patience for it.
I’d been rock hard just thinking of her photo. I am in no way ready to see her in the flesh. The way she sways, the soft roll of her fantastic ass and the slow bounce of her tits under the tight white wedding dress makes the blood hammer in my veins. And the scent of her.
The kiss during the ceremony was formal. I felt her tenderness as she stretched up to my face, and I was pumped to have her in my arms. She tasted sweet in a way I’ve never known before.
There have been moments since then when a kiss would have been the natural thing to do. One time in particular. Photos were being snapped, and we looked into each other's eyes. I could have kissed her then. I sensed she felt the same urge.
But I want our first real kiss to be private. Just the two of us. And I think that’s what she wants too. I ache to know if I’ve read her right, but it feels even more important to trust her, and to hope she’ll trust me.
The hottest part of her is the bright gleam in her eyes. In a face that’s bright with innocence, she has a naughty, dirty look in her eyes that has set me on fire from the first glance. I want to hold every part of her. I want her tits and her ass in my hands.
We’ve a reception and a party to get through first, and a receiving line at the doorway to the massive Kingpin ballroom.
All she has to do is stand next to me, smile and accept compliments from all of the guests as they file in past us. Doesn’t sound like too much to do. Shouldn’t be a demanding task.
Except I know she literally just flew in. Hundreds of people are coming and she has no idea who any of them are. They’ll all be scrutinizing her, looking for any little strands of gossip they can chew over.
Everybody’s taking pictures.
People twist for selfies like we’re fucking waxworks or statues. Like we’re pieces of public art.
I whisper to her, “One of the downsides of the O’Malley fame is people see us like animals in a fucking zoo.”
It thrills me that she has the social skills to whisper back, “I know I’ve married into Vegas royalty. I can stand paying the price.” She feels like one of us already.
She’s a lovely fish that’s been pulled straight out of the water and put on public display. And she bears it with poise and charm and grace. I’m proud to have her standing next to me, radiant in her virginal white wedding gown. God, I’m falling in love with her already.
The wedding dinner is an obscenely magnificent feast, and I’m glad to see she has an appetite. She’s going to need her strength for the night we’ve got ahead of us.
Parties are not my thing. Especially not parties where I’m the center of attention. I’m happy at the reception, though. I’m proud to have this beautiful girl as my wife and I’m feeling my new status. My chin is up, my back is straight and long, and my eyes are ready to meet everyone else’s. I feel like I’ve stepped up fully into manhood.
I’m a married man. Head of my own family, as well as the heir to the larger family. We will move into a big separate house on the O’Malley compound. I’m ready to start making babies. The thought makes my chest swell, as well as my cock.
We cut the cake. When we kiss afterward, we’re cheek to cheek. It still feels like a fantastic intimacy. But I was right. I knew it. She went for the cheek. She wants to save our first real kiss, too. Could be that she hated me on sight, but that’s not what her eyes say. Not the sway in her hips, either.
More picture-taking and I lead her out for the first dance. People crowd around with their phones and cameras. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but she waltzes beautifully.
I ask her, “Do you do the rumba and the foxtrot and all that as well?”
“Wait till you see me tango.”
Her eyes widen as she notices the pulse that bangs through my cock, hardening me against her thigh when we dance closely.
She pulls my face close to hers. “You know I’m a virgin. I’ve hardly even kissed a boy. Not in a way that counts.”