Wedding Night Virgins


Well, let’s see – we were both 23(!) and both still virgins. It was our wedding night, 1974. It was lousy sex. It was almost consensual rape. It was also extremely significant for both of us. We are still married – yes, to each other. (Although I occasionally remind her of the list I’m keeping of all the things my NEXT wife will, or will not, do.)

We had planned ahead – our wedding was 1:00 in the afternoon especially so that we could have a reception, and start making love at a decent hour. We had known each other for about a year, and been engaged for 10 months. In the last few months of the engagement we had done just about “everything but . . .”. I helped her to her first orgasm (her thighs around my ears) and she had done me orally, manually, and dry humping so we weren’t exactly ignorant of each others’ responses.

We had talked about postponing it, but I think we both knew we were going to do it. We got to our room about 7:00 pm and started deep kissing before the door latched. She gave me a choice: she’d get into one of her “honeymoon nighties”, or I could undress her, or she could undress herself (while I waited in the bathroom – I never quite understood that part!) and wait for me under the covers. I selected the nightie. She went to the bathroom to get ready, and I got into pajamas and waited on the bed.

She came out wearing a yellow gauze creation that was only faintly see-through. We talked and stalled a bit. We read each other some love poetry (not original) and Bible verses. This wasn’t agreed upon beforehand – we each intended to surprise the other with this romantic touch. We embraced and started necking. Probably 30 – 45 minutes later the clothes were off and I was eating her. After a LONG time of this (we agree that it was 15 minutes or more) I was frustrated that I couldn’t bring her to climax, as I’d intended immediately before entry.
(During our lovemaking while engaged I had noticed how open and wet she was immediately after orgasm, and knew that was the best time to enter her. I also knew that it took only 5 – 10 minutes to bring her to climax.)

She said, “I’m ready.” Big (sexual) mistake! I should have known she wasn’t ready. She probably knew she wasn’t. We put a pillow under her bottom and put KY Jelly onto our genitals. From some book we had read together we thought these steps would make it better. She raised her knees and spread her thighs. I’d never been so excited – pounding heart, dry mouth, etc. I climbed on top. She hugged me and I tried to make entrance.

It hurt! I couldn’t find the opening! I mashed my cock head against something. OUCH! I thrust and bent my erection. Extreme OUCH!! I was embarrassed, frustrated and impatient. Eventually, I found what felt like the right place. I knew I wasn’t really in – my cock head was painfully pinched. When I tried to push in, she’d pull back. When I pulled back, she moved with me so I never could get a run at her.

After 5 – 10 minutes of this we were both tense, frustrated, embarrassed and sore. This was NOT what either of us expected. I paused to catch my breath. We looked into each others’ faces, without a clue of what to say or do. I should have rolled off and started a long session of cuddling and fondling. But I felt her relax just a little, and without thinking about it or meaning to I rotated my hips in a full circle. I didn’t actually feel her tear, but I felt myself slip in.

She felt it too. She didn’t scream, but she definitely vocalized her physical discomfort. She jerked and pulled her knees up, toward her chest, trying to squirm away. Bad tactic – it made everything line up just right, and I went all the way in. Again, not that I planned it, it was just the way we were positioned, how she moved, where my weight was, etc.


She began to cry.


I thought, “I’m raping my virgin lover on our wedding night.”.


Instinctively, I started stroking. She was sobbing. Mercifully, I only lasted about 30 seconds, probably half a dozen strokes.

The contractions were still running through me when I felt ashamed and sorry for what I’d done. I uncoupled quickly, and saw what a bloody mess we’d made. Previously, while she was getting dressed to be undressed, I had run warm water in the sink and had a washcloth and towel ready. It was probably the only thing I did right, although I expected to be cleaning up love juices rather than blood. Nevertheless I spent a long time bathing her genitals in warm water and assuring her that I loved her (which was true) and she was a great sex partner (as if I really knew!) and it was everything I’d hoped it would be (I should have been struck by lightning for telling that whopper!). We cuddled for a long time – she didn’t say many words, but her body recited an eloquent love poem.

About 11:00 we went down to the coffee shop and had ice cream. While sitting there, she noticed a slightly pink stain in the crotch of her white shorts. Thinking her period had come a week early (she’s always been very irregular) we hurried back to the room. Well, that’s not what it was. In all of our sex education, nobody had pointed out that “what goes in, must come out”, and her maidenhead was bidding an oh-so-faint farewell. She came out of the bathroom with no pants on, and said “Let’s do it again.”.

The second time was much better. We were more relaxed, unpressured, and we put her on top. The next day, on our fourth session, she finally had her first married orgasm. It was from cunnilingus, not intercourse, but we were both pleased with that. (It was almost a week before she started coming from fucking.) All told we did it 5 times in the first 24 hours of our marriage – and haven’t kept count since.