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Mary and Tom had only been married a few weeks when he decided he needed to bring it up.
Ever since their wedding night, they had been having intercourse nearly every day. It was far more regular than Tom had ever thought he'd have with a wife, and he was sure Mary felt similarly. There was this lingering heat burning up inside of him at the thought of her, and it was like an itch he couldn't scratch. He simply couldn't get enough.
Not that Mary seemed to mind, of course. It had been a steep learning curve for both of them - neither had any experience, and education on the topic was sparse. But they were slowly but surely figuring it out. Tom knew the parts of Mary's body to kiss, lick, and nibble at that would have her making those sinful noises he couldn't get enough of. He knew what parts of her sex made her feel good - the little nub on the outside that had her crying out his name, that spot deep inside her that could be found if he aimed right. He was getting better and better at bringing her to climax, and in turn, she was also a deeply attentive and affectionate lover.
Safe to say, he couldn't get enough.
In fact, he needed more.
He'd heard about it before, in whispers from the sort of men who went to gentlemen's clubs and brothels. An act that was pleasurable for the woman, though perhaps debasing for the man.
Tom didn't think it could be.
And he had wondered about it more and more. Before they were even attached and he would get close to her and inhale her scent. When they kissed and he'd lick into her mouth. When he'd pull his fingers from her cunt and taste her wetness on his tongue.
It was a hunger that lived deep inside him, and he needed to satisfy it desperately.
He had woken up hard that morning, but Mary had still been asleep, and he had a long day of work ahead of him. He didn't know how he managed to concentrate, but by the time he was walking home, all he wanted to do was fuck his wife silly and have her for dinner.
He knew he had to restrain, though, when he walked through the door. She was reading over some texts in preparation for a student she was to teach the next day. Their cook brought them their tea soon after, and when it became apparent that Mary was still busy, Tom, feeling frustrated, decided to retire to the study to read some poetry.
But alas, he couldn't think. He kept thinking about her, about doing it, her crying out his name in pleasure. He was half-hard and in a daze, palming himself through his trousers, poetry book in his other hand virtually abandoned. How could such pleasure feel like such torture?
"Tom, are you- oh," Mary said as she walked into the study and realised he'd caught him doing something he shouldn't.
Tom blushed, immediately removing his hand from his trousers and trying to return to propriety. Yes, they were married, and yes, they'd seen each other fully exposed and under the influence of desire, but it didn't make this moment any less embarrassing. He felt like an animal, giving into his base desires.
"Yes, dear?" he asked, clearing his throat.
Mary looked as flustered as he felt, not responding immediately to him. "I was going to ask if you would like to turn in, but I see I may have been... neglecting you."
He stood and walked towards her, towering over her smaller frame. Her glasses had slightly dropped down her face, and pieces of her hair had fallen out of place, the result of a long day.
"You could never neglect me," he said, raising a hand to brush a piece of hair away from her face, "but I should very much like to retire so I can take care of you tonight."
She shivered, but Tom watched as her pupils grew darker. He couldn't help himself, leaning in for a kiss. It was heated and perfect, and soon enough they made haste to their bedroom, quickly stripping themselves down.
Seeing Mary lie back naked on the bed, her shame having disappeared several encounters ago, was intoxicating. He felt absolutely feral as he crawled over the top of her, kissing her mouth for a long time before moving down her body. Kissing her neck always had her moaning and squirming, while running his tongue around the nipple of her breast made her breath hitch. Her stomach was sensitive - sometimes she would laugh as though she were being tickled, but other times she would sigh in pleasure. And then, he reached his destination.
"Tom, what are you doing?" Mary asked, having noticed that his head was between her thighs.
"I was hoping, if you'd let me, that I could devour you," Tom rasped, gently sucking at her inner thigh. "I so long to know how you taste, Mary - and it is supposed to feel unbelievably good for you."
Mary flushed, looking a little hesitant, but as soon as Tom moved his ministrations to her other leg, her head dropped back and she relented. "Please, Tom."
He grinned, gently pulling her to the edge of the bed so he could kneel, and then he moved in like a man starved.
He didn't want to overwhelm her at first, lightly licking from her entrance to the top of her sex where she always seemed to feel the most pleasure. Underneath him, she gasped and wriggled, like she was torn between moving away or closer. He did it again, collecting more of her wetness pooled at the bottom of her entrance on his tongue, and when he reached the top of her sex again, he swirled his tongue around in a circle in the way he would often do with his fingers.
At that, Mary cried out.
With full permission, he made himself comfortable, wrapping one arm under her lower back and grabbing the side of her hip, the other resting on her thigh. Her legs came to rest on his shoulders as he moved his tongue up and down, and in those little circles he knew drove her wild. When he could feel she might be getting on the edge of climax, he would move back down to her entrance, desperately plunging his tongue into her, hoping to push a little deeper inside every time. He was relentless, teasing her and drawing as much pleasure out of her as he could muster. She squirmed and moaned and at times even thrust her hips into his face, which had Tom smirking and letting out a satisfied chuckle.
And she tasted divine. He had never tasted anything quite like her cunt. It was a little tangy and tart and somehow tasted just like Mary, and he couldn't get enough of her.
But he felt bad to tease her for so long, and he knew that she seemed to like it, and could add it to his repertoire of activities they would do in bed together.
Gently, he pressed a finger inside her, which went in with ease, and soon added a second, searching for the little nub he knew drove her wild, all the while ramping up his attention on the top of her sex. Her cries were growing louder and higher in pitch, and he knew she was close. Before he even registered what he was doing, he sucked on her little nub, gently but just enough, and that was it.
"Tom," she nearly screamed, and as he kept up his ministrations, she fell over the cliff. He could feel it in the way her cunt tightened and pulsed around his fingers, and gently he backed off, knowing she got quite sensitive after she finished. He wiped her wetness off his chin, taking his finger into his mouth and sucking it off.
They both took a moment to collect themselves, and Tom gently moved up the bed so that he was once again over his wife. "I hope that was...enjoyable," he said, taking in her dazed expression.
She slapped him. "Ow! What was that for?"
"You give me the best climax of my life, and you hope it was 'enjoyable'?" Mary asked, indignant but secretly pleased. Tom beamed, and they moved themselves back up the bed so they could lie together more comfortably.
"I'm glad it was the best climax, because I certainly wish to do it again. Frequently, in fact," Tom said honestly.
Mary smiled at him and went in for a kiss, but Tom hesitated. "Are you sure you want to... after..." he asked, gesturing down her body.
Mary just kissed him anyway, and after the moment of passion, she pulled away. "I like the way I taste on your tongue," she confessed, blushing.
Tom felt himself harden at that. "God, Mary," he said, going in for another kiss, and before he knew it, her hand was on his hardness.
"Now, what are we going to do about this? I fear I've been neglecting you, dear husband," she said, fisting him slowly up and down.
"What would you like to do?" Tom asked, his voice cracking.
"Would you make love to me?"
He nodded and moved until he was over her and gently pushed inside. She was somehow still so wet and turned on, and he drove in in short, sharp bursts, his wife groaning underneath him. Her hand reached down to touch herself once again, and in no time she was clenching hard around him, and he was spilling himself inside her.
They took a moment, his forehead pressed against hers, hair in their eyes, breathing hard but feeling so in love and connected. Tom could not believe how lucky he was to call this woman his wife, to have her in his bed, to give her the most wonderful pleasure and to receive it in return.
He pulled out slowly, collapsing to the side of her and then looking around the room for a cloth to clean them up. But as he went to get up, Mary grabbed his wrist.
"Wait," she said, looking a little nervous, but there was a hint of lust in her eyes. "Would you... use your mouth on me again?"
If Tom could have come again in that moment, he would have.
He nodded, and she placed a hand on the top of his head and pressed him down between her legs again, where he lapped at the mingling tastes of her wetness and his release.
And he had never been more content.