It was just past midnight when we reached my house—or rather, our house. Laughing, Cam swept me up in his arms and carried me across the threshold into our new home, setting me down just inside. He closed and locked the door, then turned to look at me with a smile. "You know, you are amazingly beautiful... Mrs. Blake," he said softly, reaching out to gently stroke my cheek.

I blushed, pleased that he thought so. "Thank you, Mr. Blake," I said with a laugh. "You're not too bad, yourself, you know."

He removed his shoes and hung up his jacket, then turned and looked again at me. He reached for me and pulled me to him, holding me close to him as he looked me in the eyes. "No regrets?"

"Only that it took me so long to make up my mind," I replied, slipping my shoes off and setting them by the door next to his.

"That isn't important. All that matters is that you did make up your mind—and that we're here together." He leaned down and gave me a slow, gentle kiss, then he released me. "Care for a drink?"

"Yes, please, thank you. That sounds wonderful. I'm really thirsty after all that dancing!"

He stepped into the kitchen while I sat on the sofa and waited. "Hey, someone left us a bottle of champagne!" he called.

"I bet it was Beth! I remember her slipping away at one point while we were getting ready, but I was so busy, I didn't think anything of it!" I replied, and a minute later I hear a loud popping sound.

"That was thoughtful of her," he said as he joined me, handing me a slender flute of bubbling pale gold wine before sitting next to me.

We talked over the wedding—the funny moments, like when Ash and Hiro had both dived after the garter in such fierce competition while Kana just easily stepped over them to catch it first; the sweet moments, like when Rahi asked Ying to dance, looking his most formal and grown-up; and the dramatic moments—particularly Mikhail. He was still angry with him for his comments to me, and I was still stung by his words, though not as badly as when he said them.

We finished our drinks, then Cam stood and held a hand out to me. "Ready for bed?" he asked with a smile. I nodded, suddenly nervous, and he pulled me to my feet. Heading back towards the bed, I carefully pulled the pins from my hair, leaving the rose in place, and let the loose waves tumble down over my shoulders. After dropping the hairpins in their dish on top of the dresser, I opened the wardrobe at the foot of the bed and started to remove my dress.

Seeing me struggling with the buttons in back, he came over and unfastened them for me. I slid the dress off my shoulders, letting it fall to the floor. I stepped out of it, feeling suddenly shy and self-conscious as he stood watching me. I felt my cheeks burning as I hung my gown in the wardrobe and reached for my nightgown, but he put his hand on my arm to stop me.

"Wait," he said, his voice husky and low, and he turned me around and pulled me to him. Holding my face in his hands, he leaned down and kissed me again, more hungrily than before, his tongue caressing my mouth and teasing my tongue. His hands slid down my shoulders and arms to reach around my waist, pulling me closer. Pressing me firmly against him with one hand on the small of my back, he reached up with his other hand to run his fingers through the waves and curls of my hair. When he reached the rose blossom, he carefully unpinned it, dropping it on the bedside table behind him.

He ran his hand down my back, then he released me and stepped back, his green eyes deep and dark with the intensity of his desire. He ran his hands down my sides and over my hips, then he reached behind and slowly unfastened my bra, letting it slip down to the floor as he inhaled sharply at the sight. Then, kneeling down in front of me, he unclipped my stockings from the garter straps, and reaching up to my hips, he slowly slid the thong down, letting it fall next to my bra. I blushed at my nakedness—no one had ever seen me so... exposed before, and I wondered if I met his expectations—if I compared favorably with the women in his past.

He reached up behind me and carefully removed the garter belt, then he stood up and turned the bed covers back. He led me to the bed and seated me on the edge, then he slowly removed my stockings, dropping them on top of the dresser. I scooted over towards the center of the wide bed to make room for him, and he sat next to me, stroking my hair as he looked me in the eyes. His expression softened, becoming inexpressibly tender, and he asked, "Nervous?"

I nodded as I shivered, fighting the urge to pull the covers up to my chin. "I heard it really hurts the first time," I explained, looking away as my blush deepened.

He cupped my chin in his hand and turned my face so that he could look me in the face. "I won't lie, it does hurt—sometimes a lot. And there'll be some bleeding. But it gets easier after the first time—easier and more enjoyable. I'll be as gentle as possible, I promise. We'll just take it slow, okay? So just try to relax—it will hurt more if you're tense." I nodded and tried to force the tension from my body, to relax even just a little.

He leaned over and kissed me, then stood and undressed down to his boxers, neatly setting his clothing aside. Then he turned towards me and slid his boxers off, letting them fall to the floor.

I blushed furiously as I looked at his erection and quickly looked away—I'd never seen one before, and while I was curious, I was embarrassed to look while he watched me. He stretched out on the bed alongside me, leaning on his elbow as he looked at me. "It's okay, there's nothing to be embarrassed about. You can look at me or touch me anywhere you want, you know. You're my wife now—we belong to each other." I nodded, but still couldn't bring myself to look. After a minute, he sat up and said, "Would you feel more comfortable with the lights out?"

I looked quickly at him, then I sat up next to him, pulling the sheet up over us and leaning my head on his shoulder. "I... I don't know. No, it's okay. I'm sorry—I don't mean to be so... so shy. It's just... it's all new to me, and I don't know what to expect, and I..." I trailed off.

"You what?" he prompted me, putting his arm around me and scooting closer to me.

I took a deep breath. "And I know it's not your first time, and I keep wondering how I compare to the... the others, and worrying that you won't like it with me as much as with them, or that you won't think I'm as pretty, or that I'll do something stupid and ruin everything, or..."

He leaned over and kissed me, cutting me off mid-sentence. Then he pulled back and looked me in the eyes, brushing some stray locks away from my eyes. "Alice, just forget about those others. Trust me, there's no comparison. It's you I love; it's you I want to spend the rest of my life with. You're the most beautiful woman in the world to me, both inside and out. I know you don't know what you're doing, and that you're nervous. Trust me, it's not at all off-putting. I feel like the luckiest man alive that you not only want to be my wife, but that I even get to be your first time."

I nodded, then blushing again, I said, "Can... can I... can I see it again?"

He smiled and I looked away, embarrassed again. He pulled the sheet back down, and I took another look. It seemed much smaller and softer, and I was just wondering how it was going to work like that when he took my hand and put it on it. It seemed to spring to life under my hand, twitching and stretching and thickening before my eyes. I jumped, badly startled, and stifled a little shriek. I looked up at him, embarrassed by my reaction. "S-s-sorry! It... it startled me. I didn't know it was going to do that!" He just smiled, but I could see that he was struggling not to laugh. I felt completely mortified, then suddenly, and maybe irrationally, I felt just so angry—angry with myself for being such a self-conscious ninny and for being so nervous and jumpy, and even angry with him, because I felt like he was laughing at me. I gritted my teeth and looked up at him, determined to do it and do it right.

"Tell me what to do," I demanded, turning to kneel on the bed next to him, and he looked at me in surprise. When he didn't answer, I persisted. "Tell me what you want me to do—what you like." Now it was his turn to look uncomfortable, so I tried a different tact—I pushed him back against the pillows and started to kiss him. If I just focused on kissing, that made me less nervous—after all, we'd done that plenty of times. So I made up my mind to start with something familiar and comfortable, and just take it from there.

I kissed him as we had kissed scores of times before—the only difference being that this time we were naked and in bed. I wound the fingers of one hand through his hair, and slowly traced circles on his chest with the other. He wasn't heavily muscled like Kana, nor did he have Mikhail's sleek, lithe build, but nevertheless he felt lean and strong as I ran my fingertips across his chest and down his abdomen. I traced lightly over his hip, then across his stomach just below his navel, brushing my fingertips ever so lightly over his skin to his other hip, then back again, moving slowly with light, circular motions, following the faint trail of hair that drew a line from his navel south. The trail spread out, and just then my fingertips brushed against his tip, now fully erect and very hard. I hesitated, then—still kissing him fervently—I ran my fingers along the sides of his shaft.

Cam broke free and groaned, then pushed me back and leaned across me, kissing my face and neck as he worked his way down towards my breasts. As he took my nipple into his mouth, I began to feel the same hot pressure building up in the core of my belly as I'd felt that night with Mikhail. I moaned a little, twining my fingers through his hair as he kissed and sucked and caressed with his tongue. He held my breast with one hand, while the other traced circles over the other breast until it reached the nipple. He rolled the hard tip between his finger, and I gasped at the shock of sensation.

He raised himself up and looked at me, then with a smile, he said in the sexiest voice imaginable, "Let's take care of you first." My eyes opened a little wider, then I smiled and reached for him, pulling him down to me to kiss him again.

As he crushed his lips against mine, his hand again lightly grazed over my skin, moving across my breast and down my abdomen. He paused and traced delicate circles around my navel, then continued down. He ran his fingers through the fine hair of my pubic mound, then he parted the slit and ran a fingertip up and down, pressing in ever so lightly. I could feel his finger spreading wetness, then he very, very gently pushed his fingertip into my opening. I inhaled sharply—even just his finger felt uncomfortably large. Remembering how big his erection was, I worried how he'd ever fit—then shut that thought out. After all, men and women had been having sex for thousands of years; surely I could manage.

He continued, sliding his finger in and out slowly and gently as if just getting me familiar with the motion. Eventually I relaxed, and as he felt the tension leaving me, he carefully added another finger. I gasped—that was even more uncomfortable. But he just continued kissing me, leaving his fingers where they were but not moving them until he again felt me begin to relax beneath his hand. Then slowly, so slowly, he again began to move them in and out. I tightened up a little again, but this time it didn't seem to really hurt so much—it was more like stretching out a very tight, sore muscle. When he decided that I'd relaxed enough, he slowly withdrew his fingers.

He gently stroked along the slit until he reached the sensitive spot near the top. Starting slowly, he rubbed his fingertip in tiny circles over and around it, gradually increasing the speed as he felt me responding to his touch. He broke free of our kiss and traveled down to my nipple, kissing and sucking it as my breathing became more and more ragged. I felt the pressure building in me, stronger and more intense than before, and soon I was gasping for breath, chanting his name like a mantra as the sky fell down around me, and I came, shuddering under his hand as I clutched his shoulders tightly.

He halfway lay across me, nuzzling my breast with his cheek, his hand still resting lightly against my wetness as my breathing quieted and I relaxed. He raised himself up on an elbow to look at me, a tender light in his eyes and a smile on his lips. "I love you," he whispered, then leaned over to kiss me.

"I love you, too," I replied, nuzzling his head as he nestled his cheek against my neck.

After a moment, he moved his hand and again raised himself to look at me, slowly caressing my pubic mound. "Do you feel like giving it a try? It should be a little easier for you now—you're more relaxed, and you're wet now, too. Very wet."

"Don't talk so much," I murmured, and I pulled him down to kiss him. After a few minutes, he rolled onto his back, pulling me with him, so that I was sprawled across his chest. Then, still kissing, he took my hand and guided it down to his erection. He wrapped my fingers around the girth and, placing his hand over mine, slowly moved my hand up and down the length. Again I felt it twitch and harden even more in my hand, but this time it didn't startle me. Instead, I felt a thrill run through me that he was responding so enthusiastically to my touch, even if I was inexperienced.

I kept moving my hand up and down his length even after he moved his hand away and began to caress and knead my breast, gently pinching my nipple and rolling it between his fingers. Soon he began to groan, and he reached down and stopped my hand, moving it away from him. He raised himself up as he pushed me back down onto the bed. "I'm sorry, Alice. I can't wait any longer," he groaned hoarsely as he slid over me and pushed my legs apart. Holding himself up over me, he slowly lowered himself until I could feel the tip just poking into the wetness between my thighs. He grasped my leg and pulled it up and behind his back, then pulled the other up, so that my legs were wrapped around his hips.

"Try to relax, Alice. I'll be as gentle as I can, but it'll hurt." With that, he pushed into me, slowly and carefully but firmly. I'd found myself bracing for the pain and forced my muscles to relax, but while it wasn't exactly comfortable, neither was it painful. Relief washed over me as I felt no real pain, even when he was finally buried completely in me. He looked down at me anxiously and asked, "Are you okay? Does it hurt?"

I shook my head. "No, not too bad anyway. Just... a little discomfort."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but he also looked a little relieved that I wasn't suffering. He withdrew, then slowly pushed in again. "Still doing okay?" I nodded, and he closed his eyes as if trying to focus, sweat beading on his brow and trickling down his cheek. Then he gave a hoarse groan and said, "That's good, because I can't hold back anymore." Then he withdrew again and began thrusting in and out, faster and faster, his breathing ragged. Before very long at all, he cried out and gave a few particularly deep thrusts that almost—but not quite—hurt. He thrust a few more times, much more slowly, then slipped forward so that he was lying on top of me, damp with sweat, panting and gasping into my neck. I wrapped my arms around him and held him tightly as his breathing slowed, and soon he was asleep.

So that's what sex is like, I thought to myself, then I, too, drifted off to sleep.