So I’m a guy in his early thirties, and I’ve been married for more than a decade.
My wife and I were married really young. We were both raised religious, and we both had crazy strong sex drives. We did literally all we could short of having penetrative sex before getting married, and we were all over each other every single day for the whole six months of our engagement. We were as sexually liberated as we felt we could be, deeply committed to one another, and incredibly committed to finding ways to make each other come without resorting to full-on sex.
Discovering my wife during that time was magical to me. She was my first everything. I had my first kiss with her in a church parking lot, running my hand through her beautiful, shoulder-length brown hair. Hers were the first breasts I ever saw in real life, her perky C-cup breasts eagerly shown to me after an intense make out session in my car on a quiet street in the middle of the night, her pale pink nipples just barely distinguishable from her light skin. She was juts a few inches shorter than I am at 5’5″ and her build was perfect for me. Curvy, yet somehow still youthfully skinny. I couldn’t get enough of her.