There were moments in a man's life, where he wished he could enshrine them in his memory for all eternity. So that when he stood before his Creator, he could pull them out, and say, this is what I did with the life you have given me. Thank you, for this blessing.
For Steve, watching his wife lay on the bed, bound, blind, and shivering in anticipation, even as she still trembled with pleasure, was one of those moments.

The other ones were along the similar vein. The first time he met her. The first time he kissed her. The first time he touched her. The first time he tasted her. The look on her face the first time he brought her to pleasure. The day she said yes to his proposal. The sound of her voice when she told him she loved him. The way she looked coming down the aisle to marry him. The way she lay in bed next to him, the darkness and shadows making her pale body seem like something from another world.

All of those moments he had no desire to ever forget or let fade.

But to see her now, the way her body jumped, her skin prickling... this was one, as well.
She looked like a fucking work of art. One of those interactive ones, of course. But for his private enjoyment, only.

He licked his lips, sucking on them to get the last of the flavor of her cum from them, before bringing his fingers up to suck on them as well, as he lay out beside her, not quite touching her. His cock throbbed, pulsing with the anger of a denied ejaculation, but he ignored it. He had more than enough time to let it subside, before working himself up again.

More than enough time to hear his wife scream for him again, while fucking her into the mattress, before flipping her over and doing it again.

A battle of wills. That's what it was. A battle between his will to fuck her over and over again, and her will to make him lose control.
To be fair to her, though, it really wasn't that hard for her. The deck was stacked in her favor. It always had been. God knew, he had been drawing on his considerable strength of will for what felt like the entirety of their relationship, to keep from letting her gain the upper hand. He had a nasty suspicion that if she ever gained control of the preverbal whip, she would not be a kind mistress.

Not a kind one, but one he would still serve, if given half the chance.

Perhaps they should try that. Let Brooklyn be in the driver's seat. Let her be the dominant one, for once.

Even as he considered it, he dismissed it. His Babydoll was not schooled on giving pleasure through pain. She would be a quick study, but given how it had turned out already, the one time they had tried it, he was fairly confident that if something happened to him, even accidentally, she would never forgive herself. And he was selfish enough to not want to spend any time of their honeymoon convincing her that he was fine with what happened.

Granted, he had a feeling that even if she broke his back, and damn near paralyzed him fucking him, he would still grin at her to hide the pain, and tell her he was fine, and that he couldn't wait to try it again sometime.

He ran his hand down her leg, testing the strap around her thigh, making sure it wasn't digging in, before checking the wrist strapped to it, as well. They were thick straps. Similar to seatbelt straps. But with adjustable latches. He might have felt a little less happy with the fit, if the latches had been buckles. The pin would warp and bend, possibly snapping and gouging her skin, if she got it into her head to really fight.

He swallowed hard at the image of her fighting him, of her actually trying to avoid his advances, and pushed it away.

That, he felt, was for another day or night.

God, but he had enjoyed chasing her through the little wooded area outside of Barton's house, that day. Not so much enjoyment about why she had pushed and pushed and pushed him, until he broke and let go. But he had so enjoyed the chase, the hunt, the bringing her down, and the... basically the fucking her into the ground.

So, yeah. They were going to have to do that again, while they could.

He reached over to test the other binding, and she jumped when his cock brushed her thigh.

"Easy, Babydoll." he crooned, nodding to himself, assured that that binding would not be an issue either. He leaned down, kissing her stomach, feeling the skin twitch under his lips. "We're just about ready. Just gotta make sure you're safe."
He reached up, tugging lightly on one of the clamps on her nipples, and she cried out softly, her chest rising slightly off the bed. She even managed to somehow spread her legs wider, as well, her knee now brushing his chest, her pussy an open invitation for a hard fuck, the wet and pink flesh so delectable looking, he almost wanted to dive face first into it again.

God, he fucking loved sucking her pussy to orgasm. He loved fucking his tongue up into those folds, finding her clit and flicking it, before driving into her cunt, trying to get as deep as he could, feeling the pulsing and flexing of it around the muscle. He craved her taste, sometimes. He would find himself in a meeting, or in the middle of training, and it would hit him. The urge to taste her on his tongue.

God knew, he might have developed a slight habit of sucking on his own tongue when that happened.

And thank God, Tony hadn't noticed. Steve could imagine the shit he would give him, if Tony knew Steve was remembering how his wife's pussy tasted when he did it.

He watched as she twisted her wrists, her hands flexing and forming fists for a moment, before they relaxed, observing the shaking in her fingers. His poor little Babydoll was all worked up.

He shifted, grinning, to move between her legs, bending his head and swiping his tongue across her pussy, pausing to suck sharply on her clit, hearing her sharp cry as her body thrashed, before pulling away from it. He pressed kisses up her stomach, pausing to bite occasionally, as he climbed up her body. He paid particular attention to her tortured nipples, licking and tugging on them, enjoying the deepened color of them.

There was something so... perfect, about her nipples, when they were being tortured like this. The already deep pink turned the shade of a ripe summer raspberry, warmed by the sun, just bursting with juice. The constricted blood flow, as well as her own arousal led to this. He had read somewhere, once, long ago, that a woman's lips indicated what color her pussy and nipples would be. His extensive research on the subject prior to his haphazard introduction to Brooklyn had led him to believe that he was somewhat of an expert on the subject enough to pronounce this theory correct.
His very extensive research on his own wife asserted his belief that the theory was much more than that.

It was a fact.

Right now, her lips were just as raspberry red as her nipples, the flush color caused by her teeth, as well as his own. Not to mention the way he had used her mouth earlier. Holding her head down, guiding her blind movements had been thrilling, to say the least. It had taken everything he could, to keep from flooding her invaded mouth and throat. He knew he could have, then taken the time later, but there was a personal sense of accomplishment to know he had the control to hold off, while she had not been able to.

He sat back on his knees, reaching down to tug at his balls, encouraging the sharp pain that helped chase away the urge to cum, before brushing his hand along the inside of one of her thighs, smiling when he brushed his fingers along her pussy lip.

It was time.

"We're gonna get ready, Babydoll." He crooned, shifting again, this time to reach over to the bedside table, picking up the anal plug and the bottle of lubricant he had placed there before their play had begun. While she was soaked enough that if he wanted to just drop on top of her and thrust his cock into her, he was certain she wouldn't be in pain but rather accept him as nature intended, he knew her ass would not be so easy. The combined tightness as well as the actual fact that the hole in question was not self lubricating like her pussy, meant that any random insertion of any object would not be as pleasurable as he would want. Fingers were one thing. He was able to gather the arousal that slipped from her pussy while fucking her, to reintroduce the lubricant. Artificial lube was required.

He didn't like it. He wished there was a way to do this without having to pause to prepare. That he could use her ass as freely as he was able to use her pussy. But... just like he had with her cunt, he knew that he was going to have to work up to full penetration of her ass. He had to put the want and need to claim every inch of her immediately aside, in the best interests of her pleasure and comfort. That was what a loving man did. He did it in a thousand unthought of ways. This was just one of many of them.

He set the anal plug down between them, before pausing and shifting, tucking it between his calf and his thigh, his forehead wrinkling at the coldness of the metal. That would have made Brooklyn uncomfortable. She hated cold things. If he had introduced the metal plug into her, while cold? She might have become distracted from the pleasure that she could experience. Instead, he was willing to make himself uncomfortable for a little bit, until his body heat warmed it up so it wouldn't be so mean to his wife.

He uncapped the lube, pouring a generous amount on his fingers, before reaching down. Setting the lube aside for a moment, he used his other hand to spread her pussy wider, even more, humming when he noted that she was still all but gushing. He brought the lubed hand up, his fingers brushing the puckered entrance.

"Here we go, Brooklyn." He told her, softly, as he massaged the pucker, before slowly starting to press a wet, sticky finger against it. "Nice and easy... just relax..."
He felt her tense for a moment, before she relaxed. He used that relaxation to insert his finger slowly, but steadily. This was not new territory for them. He had already introduced fingers, and the smallest of the anal plugs. He enjoyed, more than a little, fucking her while the plug was inserted. Not that his beautiful, accommodating, adjustable wife was a loose hole, by any means. She was as tight as the first time he fucked her. No, the additional pressure of the plug while he moved inside of her just added a new layer of it. She felt it, too. She had admitted to that. She even admitted that she enjoyed that, as well.

He twisted his finger, moving it to distribute the lube, before he pulled it out slightly, adding a second finger. She cried out softly, her body tensing, and he waited. He waited, feeling her heartbeat against his fingers. He waited while she panted, her body giving tiny little tremors that he could feel in his wrist.

Her breathing evened out, and he felt her relax again, her body still trembling, but that was part of the excitement for him. To know that she was starting to ride that razor's edge between pleasure and- well, not quite pain. He didn't want her to feel pain when they engaged in anal sex. But discomfort. Discomfort was normal. He felt they could handle discomfort.

But the issue remained, his concern remained. So, that meant it was time to do a quick check in.

"How you doing, Babydoll?" He asked, keeping his voice gentle. "Still with me?"
She licked her lips, her teeth pulling at her lips for a moment, before she nodded. "I'm with you."

He grinned. "There's my girl. Whats our word?"

"Shield." She stated, without hesitation. God, that was beautiful. Hell, who was he kidding? Everything about her was beautiful to him. Even when she passed gas, she was beautiful to him. Which... was something he was going to unpack another time.

"Good girl." He praised her, his other hand moving so he could use his thumb to rub gently at her clit. "Such a good girl for me."

She moaned, and he wanted nothing more than to lean over and capture that moan with his own lips. To feel her flexing under him. To taste her in the air between them.

But he resisted. For now.

He twisted his fingers slightly, spreading them to increase the stretching. He pulled them out slowly, keeping his fingers spread, until he felt like her anal opening was going to force them closed. Taking the hand off her clit, he reached for the bottle of lube, using his thumb to open the lid, adding a generous new amount to his fingers inside her, before using his chin to close the bottle, setting it aside again. He twisted his wrist, making sure the new lube was evenly applied, before beginning to work his fingers inside her.

Returning his other hand to her pussy, he massaged her clit again. Between the two hands working together, he was able to pay attention to the rest of her, watching for her responses, either positive or negative. So far, every response was positive. She wasn't wincing in pain, she wasn't clenching her hands in fists. Most of all, she wasn't trying to pull away, or vocalizing protests. To the contrary, she was letting out those little whimpers and moans that she made when he was working her over in a good long session of foreplay.

He smiled, inhaling deeply, realizing his fingers were moving easier inside her which indicated that she was relaxed enough that he would be able to slide the plug inside of her with little to no issue.

"Its time, Brooklyn." He told her, gently, as he continued to rub her clit for a little while more. "I'm gonna do it gently... but I need you to stay relaxed."

He slowly withdrew his hands from her, pausing to stroke her stomach to reassure her, before reaching over and picking up the towel he had placed on the bedside table along with the lubricant and the anal plug earlier. He took the time to wipe his fingers, wanting to make sure they were somewhat clean before he did anything else. Shifting, he pulled the plug from where he had tucked it, testing it and pleased to find it body temperature.

Steve took the bottle again, opening it and being careful as he streamed the thick liquid over the plug. After closing the bottle and setting it back on the bedside table, he used a finger to smear the lube around, making sure to cover as much of the plug as possible. He wiped the finger off on her hole, making sure the coating was enough.

Then, placing his palm on the swell of her pubis, his thumb dropping back to her clit, he began to press the plug against her ass, and pushed.

She tensed for a moment, as the metal began to part her flesh, but she took a slow inhale, and relaxed. She also tilted her hips up, her hands tightening slightly.
"Easy, Babydoll.... nice and easy...." He soothed, resuming the pressing. He had a flash of realization that they should have probably used the smaller one first, before exchanging it with the larger one. But it was too late to go back, now. Her hole was opening, blossoming for the plug, and though it didn't exactly slide in like butter, it went in pretty smoothly.

She let out a loud, long moan as the plug pushed past the widest part, seating itself between that and the jeweled base. Her body trembled, her breathing coming in pants, as she accepted the plug. In fact she did more than accept it.

She came.

"Fucking beautiful, Brooklyn." He told her, his voice rough, as he continued to rub her clit through the spasms of her orgasm. He took his hand off the base of the plug, roughly thrusting his fingers in her flexing cunt, curling them to encourage the pleasure to keep rolling through her. "Fuck, you're gorgeous like this... fucking mine... my little slut of a wife..."

Her head tilted back, her mouth open as she cried out, her neck almost exposed, except for her collar, which flashed in the lights around them. His collar, on his sexy little Babydoll... his fingers inside her pussy...
That was enough for Steve to let go.
Pulling his hands from her, he lunged up her body, placing his hands by her head, his hips dropping between her spread legs. His cock rubbed briefly against her wet flesh, before catching, and he was able to drive himself up into her, the rough groan that left him almost painful.

A bit more adjusting, allowing him to slide his hands under her shoulders, while bracing the combined weight of their torsos on his elbows and forearms, and he leaned his head to dig his teeth into the soft part of her neck under her jaw.

"Steve...." she gasped in his ear, as her pussy flexed gently around his cock. "Please... please... fuck me... please?"

He groaned, his cock thumping slightly, as he removed his teeth, and began to suck at her skin, before pulling away. He licked his lips, before nodding, bending down to lick at her chin.
"Oh, I'm gonna fuck you, Babydoll...." He told her as he began to rock his hips in a steady pace, his cock slipping in and out of her pussy, aided by the vast amount of wetness seeping from her. "I'm gonna fuck you so good..."
She moaned, her bitten lips falling open, and he sealed his mouth on hers, his tongue dropping into her mouth, inhaling deeply as he rubbed the muscle against hers.

He rocked harder, her body moving beneath him, the mattress creaking. This... was how he had wanted to fuck her tonight. The tightness of her pussy wrapped around his cock in a strangle hold, made even stronger by the intrusion of the plug in her ass. Bound, blind... open and available for his pleasure, and his alone. No one would ever see her like this. No one would ever experience her like this. Just him. Him and him alone.

This was his wife. His whore. His toy. His love. His Babydoll.
His.

The wave of utter posessivness that swept over him made him thrust harder, until he gained control of himself again, slowing his hips to a pace that was sustainable, without urging him towards orgasm.

It was a delicate balance. One he had learned over many, many years of trial and error. In the beginning, when he had first started having sex, it had felt like a race. Either his heart or his cock was going to give out, so he rushed. He rushed, while trying to get the girl he was inside of off as soon as possible. He didn't always managed it. He had left more girls unsatisfied, in those first few years of activity, then he would like to personally admit. The only saving grace was that they didn't know that he had failed them.

Not that it made him feel better about it.

With this in mind, he began to perfect his craft. He learned how to preform oral to rival the best of them. How to finger and arouse. If, and this was a common thing back then, the girls didn't feel comfortable allowing either, he learned to hold off, until the stimulation made them cum. Then he would allow himself to sink into the sensation of orgasm, pushing as hard as he could, to allow his semen to sink into the girl beneath him.

After the experiment with Erskine, his new body had taken a few test runs to get used to. He would not be ashamed to admit that he had spent the first few days when given privacy, exploring his new enhancements.

Before Project Rebirth, his cock had been nothing to sneeze at. Bucky had said more than once, that while nature had stunted the rest of him, it had made up for it in the size of his cock. It had also been a draw to a lot of the girls they had hooked up with. While they had been first drawn to Bucky's good looks, his debonair attitude and airs, once they got a glimpse of Steve's cock, they were quick to drop their panties.

Afterwards, though... well, perfection had been achieved.

And he was glad for it, now that he was able to use it to please Brooklyn.

The size difference between them helped. Her small stature, her doll-like features... it had been a big indication that once he got between her legs, it would be a tight fit. It was one of the reasons he had spent so long trying to prepare her for the first penetration.

Not to mention, the first time he got in there, he knew that she was going to squeeze so damn tight over him, that he was sure he would get stuck.

He didn't, by the way, but it had been a close thing, he was sure.

Now, though, after months of fucking her, he knew how to move, how to hold himself, how to use his talents and learned abilities to bring her off quickly, or slowly, depending on his mood. He could work her as high as he wanted, teasing her, over and over, before pushing her over, catching her as she fell. He could spread her legs, and pump until she squeezed so hard down on his cock, that he had no choice but to fill her with his emissions.

And she still remained tight. He wasn't sure if it was because of the serum that ran in her DNA, or if it was just her size, but no matter how often he fucked his wife, she remained as tight as the day he first fucked her. It was easier now, no doubt. She had learned to relax when he entered her. But that in no way meant she was as loose as a whore.

There was no comparison, really, to be had between her and some of the women he had fucked. Before or after coming out of the ice.

He lowered himself more onto her, letting his chest rub against her clamped nipples, using the movement to stimulate her even more, hearing her cry out as she writhed under him. He moved one hand to rest on a thigh, his fingers flexing into the skin without thinking, feeling the give of it, as well as the sturdiness under that. She may look soft and delicate, his beautiful Babydoll... but she was as strong as he was, under all that. Maybe even stronger.
God, the things she had already survived.... he wasn't even sure he would have been able to get back up from the knocks she had taken.

He pushed the thoughts aside, bringing his focus back to pleasing her.

He knew his responsibility, in being the man in the relationship, as much as the... and he wanted to wince at the term, the Dom in their relationship, was to bring her as much pleasure through their play, as possible. He was limited by the power she held, as the sub, but he still had the responsibility to make sure she was safe enough to let go, to give in, and to feel everything she could, during their congress.

She held all the power, after all.

It always amazed him, he thought, as he focused on her, reading her responses while he worked her higher, how many Doms thought they were the ones with all the power. That their pleasure was all that mattered.

He had discovered, through his exploration of the online community, a certain skewing of the point of view regarding power. Men who fashioned themselves to be the one in control, thought it was their right, as the so called Doms, to abuse the Subs under their care. That it was more than alright to be brutal, just to achieve their own pleasures, ignoring the needs and pleasure of the Subs to which had chosen to serve them.
He recalled one, in particular, who had bragged in one of the online forums, about how he had bound his Sub up for a few days, while mocking her when she lost control of her bodily functions, as well as punishing her for it. Steve had been appalled. To create a situation as extreme as that, just to mock and punish the sub for what she never would have been able to control, while ignoring her basic needs had sickened him. This was not Dominance, he had written as a comment. This was pure abuse.

Too many people had attempted to defend the abuser, though.

The consensus was, that the sub had been aware of what she had signed up for, what she had agreed to. If the Dom had crossed the line, the sub should have tapped out, and safe worded.

Steve disagreed. Too often a Sub would push themselves, to prove themselves, especially if there was an emotional connection to the Dom in question. The desire to please, to prove themselves, often overrode their basic instincts for self preservation.

Steve had made a grave error, at the start of his introducing his style of sexual play with Brooklyn. He had neglected to lay out the desired rules, the limits, and most importantly- the safe word. He had corrected it, later down the line, but he had worried for a while that the damage had been done. He had let things rock on for months, before he had been reminded that he had a duty... no, the great honor, of teaching his Babydoll how to walk in the world they now called their own. One of those honors, was making sure she knew how to stay safe, if he failed to do so.

He had been reminded of this, on the day he had proposed. His grand plans of dinner, and wine, and getting down on one knee had been thrown out the window, when she had presented her gift to him. All those toys which now occupied the box that was set by the end of the bed, added to over the months since, had reminded him that he had failed the honor on which had been bestowed to him, to keep her safe.

He had corrected it, that night.

She gasped, her breath sucking in sharply, as her body crashed down on his cock, and a rough, deep groan was ripped from his chest, as she came. Her body tightened, over and over, almost sucking at his cock, as she cried, shifted, twisted, fought.

"There it is..." he groaned, pressing into her, trying to keep himself seated. "There we go... Yeah... there it is..."

He rode out her orgasm, until she started whining under her breath. Then he slowly rose up, and pulled out, stroking his hands along her body, before grabbing her hips and flipping her over. Steve took a brief moment to adjust her stance, making her just this side of comfortable, before taking his cock by the base and putting it back in place.

A sharp snap of his hips sent himself back into her.

This time, he didn't pause, he didn't think, he just started to move. His entire focus was now on his own orgasm.
There was a certain erotic beauty, looking down at his cock as it moved in and out of her pussy, the lips stretched wide, the natural lubricant of her cunt glistening along his cock along with the foamy white streaks of her cum. The jeweled base of the plug in her ass winking as it caught the light, made more visible as he spread her cheeks. He caught her rotating her hands in her bonds, out of the corner of his eye, and without thinking he brought his hand down sharply on one cheek, humming to himself as he watched the rosy bloom of his hand print rise to the surface.

That was another thing that he loved about her. Her skin was so responsive. A pinch, a spank, a twist, and it mottled like a work of art. He almost wanted to take a crop to her, to see how he could paint her skin, see the marks indicate where he had struck her.

He wouldn't though. Despite her indication that she might be receptive to such play, he wasn't actually seeking to hurt her. Just heighten her pleasure by riding the edge of pain. The time he had taken a belt to her backside, being the one exception.

The ghost of the remembered anger and pain he had felt that day nipped at him, and made him spank her again, her sharp cry similar to the ones she had let out when the leather had landed on her skin. All that was missing was the sobbing and her counting and thanking him. He felt the sharp shiver of pleasure run down his spine at the memory, and his cock thumped.

He was close.

He let go of her cheeks, leaning forward to plant his hands by her head, watching her mouth as she cried, groaned, bit her lips. He pounded his cock into her, the only goal to achieve his own pleasure. He had made her cum, more than once, and now it was his turn. He as allowed to be selfish now.

"Fuck, Brooklyn..." He hissed, his teeth clenching as the sharp pain in his balls heralding orgasm hit. "Gonna fucking cum, Babydoll... you're cunt is gonna make me cum..."
She moaned, her head shifting, before she settled again, sobs leaving her.

The best fucking music he had ever heard.

God, he wanted to record it. The sounds of her pleasure. He'd make it her personal ring tone, if he thought he could get away with it. That no one would know what it was, and if he wasn't so damn possessive of every drop of her erotic enjoyment. No one would ever hear her, like that. He was the only one who ever got to hear her sinking into her own body like this.

It hit him like a fucking tank.

One moment he was riding the edge of it, the next it was cutting into him.

His back arched, his hips pressing his cock as far up into her as possible. The soft spongy end of her pussy was flexing against the head of his cock, a higher cry leaving her. He felt his cock jump once, twice, and then his balls flexed, and the cum began to flow out of him.

And even in the midst of all of that, he felt her cunt clamp done on him.

Even during his own orgasm, he had managed to make his wife cum for him.

That was almost as much pleasure as the orgasm itself.

The shout ripped out of his throat, leaving a brief moment of irritation, before his hips bucked a couple of times against his own will. The sensitivity of the skin being rubbed nearly was too much, but even that slight pain was pleasurable.
Over and over he felt his cock flex, throb, jerk, the semen splattering out of him, being deposited right where it would take, if she wasn't on birth control.

That fucking birth control.

That mother fucking damned to hell birth control.

He grit his teeth to keep the urge to pull out, reach into her, and rip it out under control.

If he had his damn way, she would be knocked up before their honeymoon was over.

Instead, he had to be content to try to fuck her as much as possible, believing beyond hope, that maybe, just fucking maybe, her IUD would fail, and he would put a baby in her. The rage he felt at the uselessness of him fucking her all the time, when he was being thwarted from his one real desire made him pump his hips punishingly into hers, ignoring her gurgling cry.
Steve pushed it away.
It wasn't Brooklyn's fault that she was gun shy when it came to pregnancy. It wasn't her fault that she needed time to come round to the idea of how natural it was for them to have children. It was the years of seeing what had happened to her siblings. It was the years of hearing the promise of what was supposed to happen to her, to raise the next generation via her body. It was the horrors she had heard, growing up. All of that made it so his wife was terrified of childbirth, pregnancy, children.

Even though she was a fucking natural mother.

He huffed, letting his body relax, sucking air in as deeply as he could, letting the trembles of pleasure subside, before he gently pulled out, watching as his cock exited her pussy.

The dribble that followed irritated him, so he used his thumb to gather it up, pushing it back in.

"Steve..." she whimpered. "No more...? Please...?"
He hummed, leaning back to help her roll onto her back, reaching up to take off the blindfold. She blinked, before squinting for a moment as her eyes adjusted. Then he took her hands out of the straps, rubbing her wrists, making soothing sounds as he did so. Kissing the wrists, he let go, letting her bring her arms up to stretch them out.
"Fucking beautiful, Brooklyn." He praised. "My beautifully good girl. Always so good for me."

She groaned, nodding, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.
"My nipples." She rasped, before swallowing again. Her hands came down to hover over them, and he gently reached out to push them away.

"I got it." He soothed, taking the first clamp off, hearing her sharp cry, as her back arched slightly. He leaned down, sucking gently, his tongue lathing the flushed and swollen nipple. He pulled back, rubbing his lips gently on the nipple, enjoying the look and feel of it for right now. By morning, it might still be on the tender side, but for the most part it would be healed. He repeated the actions with the other nipple, making a mental note to rub the soothing cream on them, before he let her drift off to sleep. He also wanted to go over her, making sure there were no other marks left behind.

She sighed, as she tried to settle, keep her weight on her hip, rather than rest fully on her back, and a small smile teased the corner of his lips when he remembered why.
"Lemme get that plug out, Babydoll." He told her gently, rubbing her hip before he worked on getting the strap off her thigh. He leaned over the side of the bed, dropping the strap and the clamps into the box, before working on the other strap, dropping that one into the box as well. He urged her onto her side, reaching for the towels on the the bedside. He draped one over her hip, before parting her buttocks gently, grasping the base of the plug. "Here we go, deep inhale...."
He waited for her to follow instructions, and then began to pull on the plug.
"And slow exhale...." The plug was tight coming out. No doubt due to the orgasms and her body naturally closing around it. But it came out. A soft whimper left her, as the widest part left her ass, but the rest of it slid right out, after that. He took the towel, wrapping it around the plug, setting it aside to be cleaned later. The other towel was pressed against her anus, to both keep any seepage from leaking out, and to help soothe. He rubbed gently, watching her face, but she was watching him, as well.
"Is it bad?" she asked, a small frown on her forehead.

"Nah." He grinned. "Its perfectly fine, Babydoll."
He wiped one more time, looking see the towel come away clean. He ignored the soft puff of air that escaped her, even as she blushed.

Tossing the towel towards the laundry basket, he shifted the wrapped plug closer to the side of the bed nearest to the bathroom, then lay down beside her, stroking her skin gently.
"How you feeling?" He asked, leaning over to kiss the corner of her lips.

"Fine." She hummed, taking his arm in her hands, stroking it. "More than. How are you?"
"Wonderful." He admitted, ignoring the urge to tell her how close he came to crossing a line with her. Ripping out her IUD would be a hard line for her, he was more than aware. "In fact, we can do that again, sometime, and I wouldn't have a complaint."

"That's because you're a pervert." She informed him, with a satisfied smile. She cupped his cheek, and he rubbed against the palm of her hand. "But you're my pervert. So, that's okay."

He grinned, turning his head to kiss her palm. "If I'm a pervert, what does that make you? Since you let me be perverted on you?"
She shrugged. "You poor suffering wife. I must suffer your perverted ways, as you slake your lust on my poor, innocent body. It is a cross I must bare, though, because my love for you is too great to ignore."

He laughed, enjoying the feeling of utter relaxation that accompanied a good orgasm and play session. He still needed to tend to the aftercare, but from what he saw all that was really needed was to make sure that he put the soothing lotion on her nipples, and keep her in a position that would not aggravate her ass. He would tend to that, in a moment of two. Right now he just wanted to cuddle against her, and relax.

Brooklyn shifted, before looking at him. "I don't think that anal is going to be realistic."

He blinked at her, before laughing again. "Babydoll.... we've only gone up to the second plug. The third is much larger. The widest part of it is close to the size of my cock, girth wise."

"It just doesn't seem realistic." She insisted. "Haven't any of the other women ever complained?"
He felt his lips purse. He knew it was hypocritical, but he hated discussing other women with her. The idea that she thought about him with other women, even in the past, was disturbing. Realistically, as the parter in their relationship with experience, he knew this was a very narrow view to take. She had been more than accepting of his checkered past. But that didn't mean he wanted her to focus on it. Let alone compare herself to them.

"No." He told her, shaking his head. "Not a complaint. Well, not one that wasn't a token complaint, or protest. Most times....they were more than happy to have my cock in them."
He rubbed her side again, kissing her cheek.

"Be that as it may... surely they were quick to inform you-" She paused, blinking, before blurting out, "They were well used, weren't they? That's the difference. I am not. At least, not like that. But the others... they had been with other men, before you. That's it, isn't it?"
"Some." He nodded. "More than a few, really. I don't think I really had a virgin since before the War. After, it was.. like there was this rush to live your life. The Nazi's were real, the monsters no longer under the bed. And they were doing horrible things. The Japs were in our faces..."
He stopped, frowning.
"I didn't like the idea of the camps, Brooklyn. But... we were all sold that it was a necessary evil. It was to keep the country safe. Who knew if they were loyal to the United States, or to their home country. I didn't know..." He shook his head. "We didn't know what was really going on, in there. I promise, I didn't know."
"I know." She frowned at him. "I mean... how could you. Once you became the flag painted poster boy, you weren't stateside. How could you know what was going on in the interment camps, here. No one blames you for that, Steve."

She shifted, rolling over to face him.
"And you are distracting yourself from the question I asked." She raised an eyebrow at him. "Nor is that subject considered appropriate post coital conversation."
He took a deep breath, mentally shaking himself. She was right. "You're right. I'm sorry. I don't know where my head went."

"I wonder, sometimes." She commented, lightly. And he was grateful for that. "But answer the question. None of the others complained about your cock?"
"What's to complain about?" He now felt affronted, as if there was some defect in his cock. "My cock is perfect. No one has ever had complaints about it. They've begged for more of it, in fact."

She rolled her eyes at him. "You know what I mean. Did any of them have issues with anal? With taking your cock up their ass, and enjoying it afterwards? Or did they look like you stabbed them?"

He had to laugh. In some ways, it was funny. The idea that he regularly went around, shoving his cock into women, willy nilly, without concern for their well being, was laughable. The rest of it though, that... wasn't.
"I was always careful with them, Brooklyn." He cradled her closer. "Just like I'm careful with you. I am aware of how strong I am. How much damage I could do, if I'm not careful. You're strong, Babydoll. So fucking strong. I can let go with you, cause I know you can handle it. But that doesn't mean I wanna treat you like that. Like you're just..."
"Yes, you do." She corrected with a grin. "You love that you can, with me. That you can treat me like some little whore. You've gotten off on that, more than once. So have I. This is not the issue. Nor is it a complaint. I enjoy it. I enjoy knowing that you are comfortable with me, to want me to be that for you."
She shrugged.
"I also enjoy how you let go. Tap into all that darkness that you think no one knows is there. I know it's there. I love that part of you. The primal part that needs to control me. Control what we do, when we have sex. I feel freer knowing that I'm safe enough with you, to let you have that control. So, don't ever think that I'm going to shy away from it. I want it, Steve. Just like you do."

He couldn't help himself. He kissed her. He had taken this woman, he had fallen in love with her, and in turn made her fall in love with him. He had married her. And yet, she still had the capacity to surprise him at almost every turn.
He couldn't wait for the next fifty, seventy years.
"I love you." He told her, kissing her again. "I love you."

"I know, Steve!" She laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly. "I've kinda figured it out, when we got married."

He grinned at her, his hand brushing her breast, and she flinched, making him pause.
"Lemme get the lotion on those, Brooklyn." He kissed her again.

She nodded, rolling over to lay partially on her back, while he rose up and leaned over her body, reaching into the box for the bottle of lotion. Uncapping it, he shook it, until he was able to gather a bit on his fingers. Reaching out, he gently began to massage it into her nipple, hearing her soft sigh as the numbing agent began it's work.

"It's amazing." She mused, watching him. "A simple little thing like this, and it makes it all feel better. But the pain is so nice, when it's happening."

He nodded. "That's why you are so good at being my Babydoll. You get it."

She didn't respond, and a quick glance let him know that she wasn't offended, or confused. She was simply watching him.

"After this..." He began, "Let's watch some movie, and cuddle. Then... we can just drift off."
"That's a great plan." she agreed, with a smile. "I like that plan. Cuddles and a movie. What a wonderful way to fall asleep."

He grinned, holding her tight. "Then I will keep you close, all through the night."