I ain’t your typical billionaire wife!
Consummating My Marriage to a Tech Billionaire
Who would’ve guessed this awkward nerd had such a big surprise in his pants?
Officially, my college major was “General Studies.” In reality, though, I was laser-focused on attaching myself to a brainy, awkward doormat before he got out into the real world and realized all of the options his talents would afford him.
I understood that not all nerds grow up to be Bill Gates, which is why I played a wait-and-see game. During the first three years of school, I auditioned every Star-Wars-loving, Dungeons-and-Dragons-playing math, and science geek I could find, being as fickle and withholding of my affections as necessary to hold their interest while I was evaluating them.
I smiled and shook my ass and pretended to care about their stupid hobbies. I taught them how to kiss and how to take off a bra, but aside from some hand stuff on special occasions, I did not give away the milk for free. One of these dorks was going to buy the cow.
Of course, I did have needs of my own, which I met by hooking up with guys that I was actually attracted to. Sometimes I got caught; sometimes, I didn’t. The good thing about doormats is no matter how many times you cheat on them, they’ll always take you back after a tearful apology.
During my senior year, I set about making my final pick. I ended up choosing Charlie Jenkins, a walking caricature of a future tech billionaire — doughy, pale, and asthmatic, with bad skin, and an annoying laugh. All that mattered to me was that he got his first patent between finals and graduation day.
A year later, his security app was on every phone in America, and we were engaged.
With Charlie, I’ve been especially icy when it comes to physical stuff. In the 18 months that we’ve been together, I only let him get as far as second base; in fact, I’ve never even seen his cock.
I didn’t have to. He would cum in his pants just from playing with my tits. But now, here we are on our wedding night, and it’s time for me to take my medicine.
To his credit, he’s been really sweet and patient. And he paid for my dream wedding, which has made me somewhat more amorous towards him than usual. The least I can do is let him stick his dick in me for 30 seconds. With any luck, he’ll fall asleep right after, and I can sneak out and bang his hot cousin who happens to be staying at the same hotel.
“You look absolutely ravishing tonight, Della,” Charlie says, as we walk hand-in-hand into our suite. He’s nearly a foot shorter than I am, so carrying me across the threshold isn’t an option.
“Aw, you’re the sweetest husband a gal could ever ask for,” I say, planting a kiss on his oily cheek.
“Would you like a drink?” he asks, gesturing to the bottle of vintage Dom Pérignon chilling in a bucket on top of the dresser.
“No, let’s just get this over with — er, I mean I don’t think I can keep my hands off you for another second.”
Before he can process the first half of that sentence, I pull him in for a deep, wet kiss. Surprisingly, it’s much better than usual. He’s more relaxed and he’s not just sucking on my tongue like he sometimes does.
It’s strange because our lips haven’t touched since the night he proposed. To give myself a reprieve from his general yuckiness, I made up some fake tradition that there should be absolutely no physical contact during the time between the engagement and the wedding. Like an idiot, he bought it, and I had a nice little vacation where I fucked lots of hot studs.
So where are his new kissing skills coming from? Never kiss a gift horse on the mouth, I guess.
Getting a man other than James Bond out of a tux can be awkward, but we muddle through it as we make out. When his last layer comes off, I’m surprised to see the beginnings of some muscular definition on his notoriously lean frame. The suggestion of pecs and deltoids, and finally some meat around his razor-sharp elbows.
“Woah, someone’s been working out,” I say.
He smiles. “You noticed.”
I turn around so he can help me out of my gown. Though I normally wouldn’t waste my sexy underwear on him, I wore it tonight because I figured it would speed things up if he was nervous. He unhooks my bra like a pro, which is especially impressive considering the height difference.
Hugging me from behind, he presses his new six-pack abs against my ass as he reaches around to caress my tits. Here again, there is a noticeable improvement in his technique. He used to squeeze them as though they were tubes of toothpaste, and then swat at them like a cat batting a ball of tape. It never felt good, but the way he’s massaging them now is actually turning me on.
My nipples get hard, and he gives them a gentle pinch that sends a shiver up my spine. As he plays, he gives me tiny kisses on my back. His breathing changes and I feel his cock growing between my ass cheeks.
It feels like an arm. I spin around to see what I’m working with.
“Oh, my! It looks like you’ve been holding out on me. How could you keep such a big secret?”
“Well, you always said you didn’t believe in premarital sex, so I figured you wouldn’t want to know about my penis. Do you like it?”
I take it in my hands as though I’m grabbing the hilt of Excalibur. “It’s beautiful. It makes me wish I had been less of a prude.”
“It’s ok. We have the rest of our lives to fuck to our heart’s content.”
“Well said, babe.”
I’ve never called him “Babe” before, or anything other than Charlie. I tend to save pet names for guys I’m really into. What is happening? I also never expected that I would want to suck his cock, and here I am dropping to my knees in front of him.
Taking him in my mouth is like eating a grapefruit attached to the end of a zucchini. Most of the jocks I’ve fucked over the years had small cocks due to steroid abuse. Blowing them was a breeze. Charlie’s dick, on the other hand, demands my full concentration.
With hard work, I’m able to get him halfway down my throat. I take care of the rest of his shaft with my hands, twisting in opposite directions. As I suck and stroke, he pulls the pin out of my hair, letting my curls roll onto my shoulders like an avalanche. He massages my jaw, releasing the tension, allowing me to take him in a little deeper.
Three minutes into the blowjob, and he’s still not busting. Where did all this stamina come from? At this rate, he’s certainly going to outlast me, because even with his massage, my jaw is beginning to seize up.
It’s just as well. I’d be disappointed if he came in my mouth before I got to feel him inside me.
“That feels amazing,” he says, finally retracting his log from my face. “But please allow me to return the favor.”
If you had asked me yesterday if my fiancé knew how to eat pussy, I would have laughed in your face. But he’s already surprised me so much tonight that I’m curious to see what he can do.
He sits me down on the bed and spreads my legs. As he crawls towards my pussy, he looks up at me with a twinkle in his eye and a confidence that I’ve only ever seen when he’s talking about his inventions. It gets me wet even before he makes contact.
I’m sure there are naturals out there — people who instinctively know what to do with a clitoris. Chances are, these people are all women. To get good at cunnilingus, men have to listen, pay attention, and practice. Maybe it has something to do with being a math savant, but science as I understand it cannot explain how Charlie is able to dazzle my pussy like this.
His tongue is quick like a striking serpent, yet as gentle as a warm ocean breeze. He knows exactly where to go, exactly how hard, and exactly for how long.
“That feels amazing, Charlie. Keep going; I’m gonna cum soon.”
These are not words I never thought I’d hear myself say, but what impresses me most is how he responds to them. Some guys might feel pressured and become overeager, causing them to speed up or go harder. In reality, when a woman is close to climax, all she usually wants is for you to keep doing what you’re doing.
Charlie plays it cool and stays the course, even as my thighs quiver next to his ears and pussy juice spills out of me and nearly drowns him.
“That’s it! Right there! Right there!”
It’s the best orgasm I’ve had in years.
But he’s not done yet. As though reading my mind, he comes up from between my legs and rubs his still-throbbing cock across my drenched pussy lips. He looks into my eyes for confirmation.
“Yes, Charlie. Put that hard cock inside me and fuck me.”
He inserts it slowly. Though his meat is hot to the touch, the sensation reminds me of drinking an ice-cold glass of lemonade on a hot day.
Little by little, he builds up speed, watching my face for feedback, kissing me, feeling the heat radiating from my core. The bed shakes with every thrust, just like in the movies. Who ever thought the missionary position could be so exciting?
For someone on the spectrum, as Charlie is, this much eye contact is unheard of. It’s flooding my body with a warmth I never thought possible. He’s so relaxed so natural, even as a powerful explosion is building inside of his massive balls.
His balls tighten and his cock gets even harder as he drives my pelvis into the satin sheets. I feel a second orgasm building.
“I’m going to cum again, Charlie. Are you close?”
He nods.
“Then let’s cum together.”
I grab onto his sweaty ass and hold on for dear life as he continues to throttle me. He couldn’t weigh more than a bag of rice, but in this moment, he feels like a 300-pound bodybuilder. When he brings his lips to mine, I know he’s about to blow. And when he does, my pussy lights up like a solar flare.
Afterwards, he stays on top of me, his spent cock simmering in my steaming cunt. He doesn’t pull out even as he shrinks inside of me and his cum leaks out onto the bed. Normally, I expect a man I’m with to roll onto his own side of the bed immediately after he blows his wad. Lying here underneath my new husband feels like home.
But I have to know.
“So, um… where did that come from?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“That was really, really good. Too good to have been the work of a virgin.”
He smiles. “My friend Pete told me about how he surprised his wife by taking private swing dancing lessons so they would have a spectacular first dance at their wedding. Well, I already knew how to swing dance.”
“Wait, are you saying you hired a — ”
“I asked your cousin Rita to teach me how to fuck. She was glad to do it. I think she’s been a little lonely since her husband left her, so she enjoyed the interaction.”
I stare at him blankly for a moment, allowing his words to sink in. Though I have no right to expect him to be faithful when I haven’t been faithful myself, I can’t help but be shocked.
As for my cousin’s role in this, well, Rita has always been an odd bird. My guess is she really thought she was helping me. And to be honest, I can’t complain about the results.
“Well, that’s a little weird, but uh… thank you?”
He beams with pride. “Only the best for my beautiful Della. We should send Rita a thank-you card, don’t you think? I doubt anyone else got us a better wedding present than this.”
“Of course.”
As we doze off in each other’s arms, my brain is buzzing with so many things that I want to say. I want to apologize for cheating on him. For disrespecting him. For using him as nothing more than a means to a lavish lifestyle. But something tells me an apology would actually make things worse. What matters now is how I treat him going forward. I have a whole lifetime to make it up to him.
And if I get bored, I can always fuck his hot cousin.
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I ain’t your typical billionaire wife!
