It’s years now, but the event of that night still lay fresh in my memory. It was as if it was yesterday when I was impaled, and it was an utter pleasure .
As tradition demands, a man must lay with his wife on the first night after marriage.
We’ve been planning this special day as teenagers, and I held to my virginity for I love the man whom I’ll soon become part of.
Under the stars, we’ve talked about the wedding night, and he has told me how he’ll ravage me like a monster.
Despite how erotic and aroused he sounded, we exercised discipline and remained virgins.
Together, we’ve been for 3 years, without having to devour the other no matter how monstrous the hormones rage.
That night, my wedding night, the man I know was no longer the same. He has paid my price, and now he owns me.
As he climbs the bed to meet me, the subtle candle flames sway in harmony. The room was darkly lit, with slow melodic sounds emanating from the wall speakers
He looked at me like a predator would to a prey. Unbuckling his belt, as he drools and looks at me with piercing eyes.