Carrie finished the description of the small. modified Islamic wedding ceremony, and sat back into Maggie's cushiony couch. Franny was asleep in the playpen, sucking her thumb contentedly. Maggie looked at Carrie, her expression one of frank amazement.
"Wow, Carrie," she said. "That's a pretty incredible story."
"I know," Carrie said, looking preoccupied.
"Especially for someone who hasn't been to any church, except for Dad's funeral, since 1995," she said.
"It wasn't my religion. And it made Khan happy," she said.
"Is that what matters?" Maggie asked, raising her eyebrows. "What I'm not getting, Carrie, is why you had to marry him," she said.
"I guess I can't explain better than I already have. His faith was part of it, but..." she looked at the empty fireplace. "The other part of it is that he wanted whatever time we had to be, I don't know, sacred. He knew this would be a short-lived thing, no matter what happened, or what Imam showed up," she said sorrowfully.
"Sacred," Maggie observed. "Then maybe it shouldn't have been a short-term thing," she said sensibly. At that moment, Maggie's iPhone tweeted. She took it out and looked at it.
"Dad's lawyer," she said, softly. "I need to take this." As Frank's executor, Maggie needed to work out details of probate - thankfully, due to her urging, Frank had not died intestate. But even with a valid will, there was still a lot to take care of. Carrie smiled gratefully at Maggie as she took the call out of the room.
How best to explain this to anyone else, she thought. Her mind went back to the moment that the Imam had declared them man and wife. She was glad she wasn't being asked to explain their wedding night.
In a way, this would be the easiest part to explain to a grown woman, Carrie thought. Once the door has been opened, the lust has been acknowledged, there's nothing more normal than the consummation of the physical part of a man and woman's love relationship. But the consummation of her wedding night with Aasar Khan had been as romantic, striking and unique as the rest of the strange, rapid courtship. After the brief ceremony concluded, Khan gathered her up in his arms and lifted her, carrying her up the staircase. He moved slowly, but his strength was apparent, as he didn't wobble or seem to strain at her weight. This was an accomplishment, because while Carrie was petite, the dress itself weighed about 25 pounds. She looked forward to getting it off, for a number of reasons.
In her mind, she pictured Scarlett O'Hara being carried up the stairs by Clark Gable in Gone with the Wind. She realized that as ridiculous as parts of this had been, the experience was something she would never have had in the states and was unlikely to have again. She gave in to the flow of events, putting her head on Khan's shoulder.
He carried her into the master bedroom and set her on her feet, where there was a fire burning in the fireplace. His hands turned her shoulders to face the fire, and he said quietly, "My Bride." She heard a rustling behind her and turned to see that he had removed all but his black pants. She walked into his arms and allowed herself to finally show the passion she felt - kissing him, her arms around him, a whimper of excitement escaping from her as he pressed her to him. His hands went to the back of her dress and began to untie the elaborate garment. It was complicated enough that he had to break off their kiss and turn her around to face the fireplace, standing behind her to unburden her of the dress.
She felt Khan's hands working their way down her back, much more slowly than she would have liked. He untied the back of the corseted wedding gown, one set of eyelets at a time. As he undressed her, she felt his breath down her back in succeedingly greater area. When he spoke to her, his voice shook. "Carrie, please stop me if I frighten you," he said.
Like she was a virgin or something. He had to know she wasn't. His statement was arousing all the same, because it implied he would do... things to her... that she hadn't experienced yet. Or perhaps it would simply be the uniqueness, the moment of possession. She had agreed to marry him and she was now, by law, technically his property - an erotic thought. The wedding gown slid down over her hips to reveal her curvy form, covered only by a thin silk chemise, with no panties beneath. Khan drew his breath in through his nose.
He then seemed to suddenly crack and lose control of himself, looking at her near nakedness, her availability, her willingness, because the next thing he did was seize her upper arms and turn her to face him. He pulled her close, her hands pressing against his bare torso. He reached down and lifted her into his arms, and carried her to the enormous four poster bed, that filled the south end of his master bedroom suite.
"That's quite a bed," she said, admiringly, as he laid her on it. He looked at her, eyes dark and searching, almost frankly sorrowful at the beauty before him. She smiled reassuringly. "Aasar..." she said, "I'm not afraid."
That was all it took, and he was on top of her. The heat of his bare chest pressed down on her body burned her even through the silk chemise. His mouth opened hers, and his kisses seemed to consume and engulf her, as his hands stroked her body. She felt his stiffness pressing through his pants, and reached down with a small white hand to outline his rigid member through the cloth. He groaned and took her her away, pressing both her wrists into the bed next to her ears, pinning her. "Stop, or I'll be done before we start," he cautioned.
He sat back and unzipped himself, revealing his long, athletic body, his smooth and gorgeous brown skin, finally devoid of any clothing. He was just as beautiful as she had imagined, a man of fantasy. His long, uncircumsized member was completely hard for her, a drop of fluid anxiously waiting on the end of it. It was sizable, and not for the first time, Carrie was glad she was no virgin.
Aasar came forward, hovering over her, pressing his cheek into hers and placing the lightest of kisses on her lips. "I have thought of you this way, ever since you spent the night at my home," he said. Her eyes were misty, as she kissed him back on his cheek and forehead. "I am so glad you were there for me," she said thickly. It made sense to her now. Khan kissed her neck, her breastbone, her belly through the thin silk, then knelt back between her spread knees.
"May I? he inquired politely. Carrie smiled, "If you don't strip me naked soon and fuck me silly, I'm going to scream."
His eyes flashed, and he smiled. He immediately lifted the gown over her head, leaving them both skin to skin, bare in each others arm's, the combination of skin tones exotically flashing in the bureau mirror, her creamy paleness contrasted against his lean, coffee-dark complexion. She was wet and so turned on that her pussy felt almost electrified. His mouth found her white belly and dallied there, while his fingers gently probed her folds. He pressed down on her clit and held her pussy tight.
"You will always be a virgin for me," he said, breathlessly, and lay between her spread thighs. Unable to restrain himself anymore, he slid his length into her waiting passage, clutching her buttocks to himself. He held her close and moved fully into her, holding her tight, pressing himself completely in and being still there, as deep as humanly possible. His pubic bone was hard against her clit, and he was moving very little. By pressing into her harder, then less hard, then repeating, Khan used his cock to bring Carrie pleasure. She gasped, as he began to speak into her ear.
"I can take you this way, because you're mine. My bride," he sighed. His hardness was still grinding deep inside of Carrie, triggering more wetness to shed down from her stretched passage. Her eyes were wet, and she wrapped her legs around him. He grunted and began to thrust, slowly, then faster, every drawing out of his hard prick a loss, every return of it to its sheath, a relief. His hands moved over her breasts, her belly, her cunt, and his mouth uttered words of deepest romantic love, devotion, fealty.
"Darling. Carrie. There will never be anyone else for me, never," he moaned, and finally, both of their orgasms burst on them, taking the room out of focus, Carrie's arms around Khan's neck, her mouth on his shoulders, the soft cries of her climax on her lips. He kissed her and laid full length upon her beauty, resting, enjoying the warmth.
Time passed. They listened to the fire crackle, and eventually Khan rolled aside and pulled her to him, Carrie's head resting on his shoulder. He reached around her and covered her lightly with the bedspread, and kissed her temple, next to her hair.
"This was madness," he said. "I will never be able to let you go."
Carrie sighed. There was something to be said for a one-night stand - no commitment or expectations. "I'm sorry," she said. "Can we just make the most of tonight? Please." She leaned up on her side, resting on her elbow. "I intend to," he said, taking her in his arms again.