The Wedding Night In Dublin

Sybil heard the click of the door. She had changed herself into her nightie, ignoring the fact that her clothes lay on her bedroom floor. She was married and she wasn't going to let anything get in the way of her wedding night. The rain was pouring down the windows, and it was dark outside, but it didn't deter Sybil from thinking of what was to come in the next few hours of her marriage. She was used to the weather, and she refused to let anything stop her from enjoying her husband's company. Tom walked in, but paused by the door, closing it behind him. He stared at her, through the mirror, watching her take out her hair. She spotted his reflection and smirked as she let the last of her hair flow down her back. "Hello, my dear husband."

"Hello, my dear wife. My dear, beautifully stunning wife," Tom replied, failing to cover up the grin rapidly spreading across his face. Sybil got up from her chair and walked over to Tom.

"Sounds good, doesn't it?" Sybil asked, standing close to Tom, but not touching him. She was smiling more than ever before, and he knew exactly how she felt.

"Sounds fantastic!" he replied in a low voice. He placed his hands on her waist, pulling her closer to him. She giggled silently and tilted her neck up to meet her lips with his. She put one hand on his shoulder and the other touched him softly between his waist and his back. "I love you," Tom said in breaks. With every breath they took, they each wanted to venture deeper into each other's mouths. They subconsciously made their way to the bed and soon Sybil was lying on her back diagonally across the bed. Their lips were no longer in contact, but Tom was hovering over Sybil's body, kissing her neck and chest in the line of her nightie. The pair of them knew that this was, without doubt, going to lead somewhere where neither one of them had been before. Sybil breathed heavily, but shallowly, as Tom aroused her more and more. She sat up and gently; carefully took off her nightie so that the only thing she was wearing was a grin plastered across her face. Tom got off from on top of her and whipped his pyjamas off as quickly as he could, so as to keep Sybil waiting for as little time as humanly possible. He sat next to her on the bed, caressing her hair and her soft, warm skin – skin that he's never seen bare on her before. He fingered her warm and bare back, wondering how he lived before this night. Sybil fingered the sides of his torso down to his hips, kissing him the whole time with passionate kisses, asking for something more. She reached the top of his legs and noticed that he was read for that something more. She wrapped her arms around his back and he twisted her, all the time lowering her gently onto the bed, not stopping caressing her arms, back, stomach for a moment. Tom positioned himself on top of her, getting ready. He was cautious – he didn't know what Sybil would be feeling, but he went on strongly. Sybil gave out whines and groans and uttered some soft words to her new husband, and, although Tom had never gone this far with a woman before, he knew by instinct that they were groans of pleasure and whimpers of joy. As he went on, thrusting his own hips against hers he slowed down, and kissed Sybil's body. Starting at her neck, he kissed softly and lovingly, working his way down her collarbone, and down to her cleavage, moving to kiss across her breasts, repeatedly, as Sybil leant back her head in the sheer bliss of the moment, slowing her breath for his benefit. He moved down to her stomach, caressing it with his tongue and lips, wondering how long it would be until it would be bigger – creating a new life. He slowly worked his way back up her body, going unbearably slowly, making poor Sybil groan softly at the feel of his mouth over her breasts. His lips once again reached hers, their tongues dancing together skilfully – a dance that never needed practise. He began again – in and out, in and out – Sybil all the time trying to pull him closer, loving him and loving what he was making her feel. She had imagined, but had never thought that it could be this good. It had never crossed her mind that lovemaking was so remarkable with all sorts of feelings attached to it. The pair of them eventually lay next to each other, breathing heavily and out of sync. Sybil was refusing to let go of Tom's hand between their sides. She kept squeezing it, letting him know that she was more than happy, more than ecstatic,

"I love you, Mr. Tom Branson."

"I love you, Mrs. Sybil Branson. And you can't deny that you're a Branson now, my love!" Tom smirked and Sybil turned on her side to place her spare arm over him and kiss his torso, chest, neck, jaw line, leading to his mouth, between kisses all the way there saying,

"Why would I ever want to deny it?" His lips were warm and soft and welcoming. His tongue invited hers into its habitat, letting it stay for longer than normal. Sybil soon rested her head on her husband's chest, eyes having been opened by her recent experience. Her fingers made patterns on his stomach and his did the same on her arm, waist and stomach. "I never knew you'd be so good!" Sybil laughed.

"So you imagined me, did you? Are you sure it's smart to admit that?" Tom joked back.

"I'm happy to admit it to you, as long as you don't tell my father..." Sybil asked, knowing that Tom would never dream of such a thing.

"I won't tell your father, if you promise that the fact that I imagined you like this before you and I ever planned to get married will never come up in a conversation with any of my family – or any of yours for that matter!" he laughed back, pressing a kiss through her hair. Sybil smiled and pulled the blanket she was lying on up around her back, and Tom followed suit, doing the same the other way, so as not to let his wife get cold.

"Now I understand why your mother kept telling me what joy I had in store for this evening. I thought she must have been over-exaggerating, but I don't think I've ever been so wrong," Sybil said with a smile and a warm hand on her husband's body.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence," Tom replied sarcastically, but then more seriously, in a soft, deep, Irish voice, "And thank you for the compliment. I love you so much Sybil, and thank you for a remarkable wedding night!"

"You're most welcome, Tom. My Tom. I love you so much Tom. You have no idea how much I want to be with you."

"Well, you are with me, so that's okay, isn't it?" Tom smiled.

"I love you, darling."

"I love you, my dear." That was the last thing said on Sybil and Tom's wedding night. Tom kissed Sybil's hair and she soon fell asleep on her husband, listening to the gentle, steady breathing and feeling her husband's chest move up and down, comforting her and rocking her into sleep. It had been one remarkable day and an even more remarkable night. Sybil knew she'd chosen the right man for her, and Tom knew that he had the right woman, and didn't doubt himself for a moment there onwards.

I hope you enjoyed this. I know I need to update 'That Was Then, This Is Now', but in school today I had a sudden urge to write a one-shot Sybil and Branson wedding night little story. I'd like any reviews, so if you'd be willing to spare a minute of two, I'd be very grateful!

Zip Goes A Million

Remember that there are no short-cuts in evolution.