Ayla's first time

“Do you take the pill?” I asked. It wasn’t the most romantic thing to say in a situation like this, but before today, I couldn’t bring myself to ask my teenage wife that question.

A quick nod.

“Can you hold me?”

My heart skipped a beat. I nodded and lowered myself to my elbows then wedged one arm under my wife’s shoulder blades and hugged her to my chest. “Like this?” I murmured.

Her face was inches from mine, and she looked up at me, seeking my help, my protection, my closeness. I kissed the corner of her mouth then her lower and upper lip as I shifted my hips so my tip nudged her entrance. She held her breath. I stroked her bangs from her sweaty forehead.

“Breathe out.”

She did, and I pushed into her about an inch.

Her face flashed with discomfort, and she gripped my bicep.

“If it’s too much, you tell me, and we’ll figure something out,” I heard myself say, and I wanted to kick myself, but she gave me a grateful small smile, and I could feel her walls loosen very slightly. Slowly, I