She walked down the aisle, my bride to be. She wore white, which was somewhat appropriate. She was still a virgin, in her left ear, (or maybe between her toes on her left foot? I'm not 100% sure, the three of us were pretty drunk that night, but that's another story, another time). She looked fantastic to me. As she did the hesitation step to the traditional wedding march, I remembered some female standup comic asking: "When someone compliments a man on how attractive his wife is, why do guys say 'Thanks.' (pause) What does that mean? Like: "Yeah, I'm pretty proud of her, myself. I built her from a kit, ya know." People laughed when she said it, but she wasn't too far off, in my case.
My bride's name is Tonya. She didn't like the associations that come with that name, so her friends called her "Tawny", like a kitten. She has always been like a kitten, in that she can be very playful and likes a lot of stroking, but she's far more trainable. She doesn't have the classic looks of a great beauty. Actually she's rather plain looking. I mean she doesn't scare small children or anything, but her face is just ordinary. (What the hey, I'm no 'Ahhnold Hamandegger' myself, or whoever male beauty is measured by.) We met in college and slept together for most of the school year before I was really sure she was the one. Tawny definitely was not the first woman I had slept with, and I don't think she was the most sexually adept partner I had ever had. She just had this tremendous potential, you see. She had the basic requirements of a playful, but somewhat submissive personality and she took my cock up her ass with absolutely no complaining (and has learned to enjoy it, but that's another story, too).
I watched her steps down the aisle and thought back over a three year engagement, as I had "helped" her become more and more what I wanted in a wife. I know Tawny didn't think it was going to take that long to get married, I just didn't share all of my plans with her. Not that I encourage a husband's withholding secrets from his wife (even a 'to be'), but I don't think she would have understood what all was going to be modified to be the new one and only. She might have refused initially, had she been required to agree to all the details at once. She didn't know them, of course, and I had a carefully orchestrated flow that led her to being what I most desired.
Were those her first steps coming down the aisle? She had bouncy short hair, for our wedding, but it wasn't that way when I met her. At first it had been sort of a lifeless, thin helmet that didn't quite make it to her shoulders. We went to a stylist, who convinced her that she really looked great with a shorter do and showed her how to get more volume to her hair. He deserved an oscar for his performance and I only tipped him ten times the amount of the haircut (of course, I gave him half of that one week before Tawny came in to see him). Her lips in our wedding pictures are quite full. They're not really original equipment (so to speak). Tawny has always seemed to have a generous mouth, but her lips were very thin. A little trip to the plastic surgeon, once a year or so, has made her lips much more full. They go along with the short hair, in a manner of speaking. They both make oral sex far more pleasurable: no hair getting in her mouth or blocking my vision of my penis being pleasured. The more full lips provide just that little extra stimulation to improve the overall friction.
You see, sexually, I had already had this woman in every way I wanted. You could say it had been like an extended test drive and now I was finally ready to buy. But one of my biggest concerns had always been that, while she would give me a blowjob if I asked, she didn't want me to come in her mouth and she certainly wouldn't swallow my come. Well, that was my wedding present from her: she started swallowing my come on our wedding night. She was comfortable with that and had gotten use to the idea over the last few years. I had to overcome some abusive conditioning to get her to that point.
There had been a number of carefully planned enhancements in this young lady, thanks to me. Don't get me wrong, I was certain I wanted to spend the rest of my life married to that woman. I wanted her to have my children. I was committed to busting my buns to be the best provider and most supportive mate that I could be. I just wanted a few "comfort factors" to be in place before we hunkered down for the long run. Does this seem rambling and confused? I suppose it would be easier to start from the beginning with this. Our story together started in our college years...
Her previous lovers were put off by general bad body odor and a nasty smelling pussy. A little encouragement toward improved personal hygiene and a trip to the college clinic (free, mind you) to clear up a persistent yeast infection took care of those problems. Some guys have no ability to see past their nose (so to speak). You have no idea how easy it is for a woman to fall in love with a man who can bring her some satisfying orgasms orally. Besides that, there is probably no greater compliment to your love skills than when her back arches and she pushes her pussy into your face, in the throws of her excitement. On the other hand, maybe it's when she offers you her anus for your sexual pleasure, without prompting from you, but I digress.
Actually, I was pretty shamelessly manipulative about the whole thing. You can call me a cold-hearted son of a bitch, if you want. (It would be nice if you would smile, if you're going to say it to my face, but it's your call.) I knew Tawny was completely in love with me by the end of my senior year. She's one year younger than I am. On the last day of the school year, I was leaving for job hunting and she was staying for summer school. I sent her a note and a box of candy. The note told her that I didn't think we could continue the relationship any further and felt it would be best for both of us if we broke it off now. She was at my door in almost no time with huge tears and sobbing to such an extent that half the dorm floor was wondering what was going on, before I let her in my room and closed the door. Yeah, I'm a shit. I never planned to break it off with her. I needed her in a vulnerable position to gain some important concessions. So, anyway, there she was in my arms, sobbing her head off and asking: "Why?...(snuffle, snuffle, shiver, shake, snuffle)...Why?..."
I calmly declared that I was afraid we were getting so close that we would probably have to get married, but there were five things I must have from a wife that I wan't sure she could handle. I said: "I would love to have you as my wife, but I know I can't expect you to be my wife, if you can't agree to provide for these five specific needs".
I'll tell you what. I'll ask them one at a time and you can say no any time you absolutely have to. If you can say yes to all my needs, I will ask you to be my wife. But they're not negotiable. I need my wife's absolute commitment to each need. Do you want to be my wife, with these conditions?" She snuffled and shivered a little more and hugged me as hard as she could and assured me: "...anything you want... you know I love you... (snuffle, snuffle)... anything, just don't shut me out... (snuffle)...".
I said to her: "Alright! The first thing I need from you is that you have to promise not to get fat. I need you to promise to take care of yourself. I don't want you getting fat. I absolutely can't deal with a fat, lazy wife. You look great right now, but if you're going to be my wife you've got to make a commitment to keeping yourself looking good." I had met her mother, once, who had the same underlying body shape and now looked like the bride of Frankenstein. We're talking about an abused woman who sought refuge in stuffing herself and trying not to look attractive to her husband. Never the less, I didn't want Tawny reverting to what she might regard as "normal" for a woman, as she grew older. I also wanted to start with a demand that would be easy to agree to instantly. I mean, what woman is going to tell her beloved that she is really looking forward to letting herself go and becoming an old cow? So, of course, she agreed immediately to that demand and was ready to say yes again. I gave her a kiss and said "Thank you, just four more things to go."
My next request was that she would have to shave herself for me, when I asked. This would mean that I would require her to have no hair anywhere except on her head from time to time. She would have to shave herself or let me shave her, but there was to be absolutely no hair under her arms or on her legs at any time. And, when I asked it of her, she was to shave herself completely between her legs. It could grow back if she wished, but she must shave whenever I asked. I told her: "You know how much I love looking at your pussy and I want yours to look like the ones in the magazines and the movies we enjoy." We would both get hot sharing letters to Penthouse, every once in a while, or watching the occasional porn tape, so she knew what I meant. "I think you would much rather have me looking at your pussy than some other woman's, but I want you to shave yours just like theirs." Just to make it seem there was some self interest for her in this, I added: "I want to eat your pussy, not a hairball. If I ask you to, I want to eat a pussy that's specially prepared for a loving man to see and enjoy without all that hair getting in the way. Can you do that?"
.... There is more of this story ...