James Elliott - A Bride For The Whole Family

Her naked body hissed between the sheets as she slid into bed. It was a luxurious feeling, like hotel sheets always are, cool, crisp and fresh, nearly crackling. She felt like purring as she snuggled down, allowing the soft comfort to ease the tension of the day's drive from her.

Fresh from the shower, glowing with a pampered warmth, she rolled to the center of the king-size bed and languidly stretched. A satisfied smile danced across her full lips as she once more came alive.

Carefully, she arranged the shoulder length strands of light brunette hair in a fluffy cascade on the pillow, framing the classical oval beauty of her face in a silken cloud of softness.

As a last touch, she raised the sheet and let it slowly drift down, moulding its whiteness to the supple contours of her nakedness: a veil that completely hid the smooth pinkness of her body, but a veil that went beyond the point of mere suggestion and presented an alluring portrait of willing innocence.

Prepared, her eyes swept over the room, finally focusing on the open door to a small bathroom. An impish glint played over the misty green of her eyes and a pleased smile once more crept back to her lips. She waited-waited for the man still busying himself in the shower.

Michael Hightower; she let the name roll over in her mind, quivering as shivery little thrills tingled their way through her. He was a Michael, not a Mike. Mike was a name for a boy. Michael Hightower was most definitely a man!

Mrs. Michael Hightower; she savored the feel of it, tingling as new excitement washed over her. Diana Little, meet Diana Hightower, she continued to mentally play with her new name.

She felt like a newlywed. Despite the fact that she and Michael had lived together for the past semester at college, she felt like a newlywed. She trembled anew, her body alive with the excited warmth of anticipation. She was acting like some foolish school girl and loved every moment of it!

The blasting water of the shower abruptly ceased and the curt sound of metal rings sliding along the shower rod entered the room, sending a vivid flush of eager gooseflesh running up her spine. She listened as he pulled a towel free and briskly rubbed himself dry.

She heard two steps, then he was there, standing in the doorway, naked except for a small white towel wrapped hastily around his waist.

"Hello, wife," he grinned, his eyes lit with self-assured confidence.

Wife, lover, mistress or whore, any way you'll take me, she thought as he brushed the rumpled mop of thick, black hair away from his face and crossed the room. The towel and his brisk stride gave him the air of a triumphant conqueror come to claim his reward. Her eyes trained on the slit that opened in the terry cloth, exposing a suntanned thigh as he stepped. She tried to glimpse what lay beneath, although she already knew.

"Tired?" he smiled down at her from the side of the bed.

"Not that tired!" she returned the smile. "After all, this is my wedding night!"

His wide grin was back, "Have I ever told you you're beautiful?"

"Yes," her eyelids coyly fluttered down in mock modesty, then opened wide, revealing two sparkling eyes of emerald green. "But keep on doing it. I love it!"

She wasn't a beautiful woman, she knew that, but she was attractive.

The obvious attributes of her body were nothing out of the ordinary when taken individually, but together, that was another story. That she knew how to highlight what she had only added to the enticing picture she presented to Michael's eyes.

"What's that ridiculous towel for?" she frowned up to her new husband.

"Just following the advice of all those marriage manuals I've read in preparation for this moment," he chuckled. "They all said a man should never let a woman see his genital area on the first night of their marriage. It might frighten her!"

"But…" her hand reached up, grabbed the towel and tugged, this is not our first night!"

It came free and fell to his feet. Her gleaming deep green eyes homed in on the sleeping form of his cock. No, penis, she corrected herself, when his cock naps it's a penis.

Small, almost bud-like, it nestled securely in the nest of black pubic hairs thickly covering his groin. She had known men whose cocks were always the same size, only growing hard as they were aroused. But this penis would blossom into a long, unyielding rod of a cock! That she could watch and feel its virile metamorphosis made it that much better!

"…And I happen to love looking at you," her hand tenderly crept up the inside of his thighs.

Long, cool and graceful, her fingers cupped around his testicles and cock. He sighed, as the gentle caress stirred swirling, pulsing life into his loins. Her fingertips lazily circled the sensitive crown of his organ, eliciting soft moans of pleasure from his lips.

Throbbing with pulsating surges of blood, he grew under her gentle ministrations. She knew what she was handling and how to handle it.

Lovingly, her fingers glided up and down the growing column in light fleeting strokes. Like a snake coming to life, it jerked and twitched.

Engorged and alive, it bobbed upward, its head transforming from budlike smallness to a thick, plump-looking plum. Tube-like, it stiffened, growing hard and erect. Still her dancing fingers worked their taunting magic, teasing and titilating the shaft as it grew.

When her hand eventually drifted between his open thighs to find the dangling sac of his balls, he no longer sported a penis but a cock!

Long, hard, thick and swollen, it jutted from his crotch at a fortyfive degree angle. Its lust-gorged glans twitched with fired arousal. A small drop of clear sexual oil oozed from its small slitted mouth.

Her wide green eyes rolled up to him, no longer flickering with girlish delight, but with the eager flames of a woman-a woman that knew what she wanted! She smiled, recognizing the desire that played in his eyes.

"I love your hands on me," he smiled back, moaning as an inquisitive finger teasingly probed and swirled over his scrotum.

"So do I," she whispered, her pink tongue slicking her lips, then her eyes returned to the cock she had brought to life.

For minutes, he stood there, letting her finger play at his sac. He moaned as she toyed with his stirring balls. She caressed them and taunted them. Her fingers rolled their weighty shapes back and forth in the bag that held them.

Then her hand was back on his prick. She grasped his rod tightly, squeezing its blood-filled thickness, as if testing the fatness of its circumference. Up and down along the inflexible length of his manhood, her clinging fist jerked until he groaned and his knees threatened to give way.

Pulling her demanding hand from his cock, he reached down and tucked his fingers beneath the top of the sheet covering her. Slowly, he pulled the veiling whiteness downward, his eager eyes hungrily devouring the nakedness he discovered.

Like firm half-melons, her tits jutted proudly up to him. He delighted in the trembly little quaking that set them liquidly juggling as she shivered in her excitement. Deep pink nipples, surrounded by coralblushed haloes, crested the lovely fleshy mounds. As he gazed, the rubbery little buttons fattened and thickened, as she anticipated what was to come.

Lower the sheet and his eyes drifted. Down over the quivering sleekness of her belly with its deep sensuous navel the cloth came, revealing a distinctive tangle of silky brown pubic fur bushed over the plump rise of her sex. Quickly, with his own eagerness growing, he pulled the rest of the sheet from her body, unveiling two shapely legs that slowly spread open in an announcement of her body's willingness.