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“N-no,” Maddalyn whispered, then swallowed, “…I’m just…j-just…I’m scared.”
“What are you afraid of, darling?” You stroked her cheek. A flash of concern broke through the steaming fog of desire in your mind.
“It’s…It’s nothing, truly,” Maddalyn said, looking crestfallen, “Just a silly feeling…just something I need to get used to. Just…just <span class="mu-i">do it</span>, Richter. We are husband and wife…” She put a hand to your crotch- felt the thing that was prepared for battle, had been pounded at the gates of your head to be released for this day, clawed and gnashed its teeth now that it knew the moment was so close, and its enthusiasm was terrible infectious. “We are in love, aren’t we? So we should make love…no matter what fear I have inside…”
You nodded, kissed her. Only, you were just wary that Maddalyn didn’t seem to feel the same, despite you doing plenty that melted her well enough in the past.
>She gave her permission. She asked you to. To deny her would be an insult. Let loose the amorous reckoning.
>Hold back. Keep yourself in check. This was new to both of you, and below the psyching up, maybe you had to be careful, frightened, too…
>No. Even if it was your wedding evening, you just couldn’t. Wouldn’t. If she didn’t feel up to it and couldn’t explain it, then that was that.
>Other?
