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The Only Rules That Matter (TheCorsair, Madame Mim)

John chewed down his mouthfull of cake, taking a moment to lick the crumbs and flecks of frosting from Jenny's fingers - much to the amusement and general approval of friends and family. Then, after he fed her a slice, he kissed her thoroughly. "Just trying to help," he breathed against her mouth. "You had crumbs on your lips."

The band struck up a jig, then, and John escorted Jenny out into the cleared floor of the pub. As they danced, others came to join them. First Jacob, dragged out by Molly. Then Sean with his Elizabeth, who everybody expected to see married soon. Soon enough, even Mr. and Mrs. Dolan and Master and Mrs. Halliwell joined them all.

Time passed, this time in a whirlwind of images and impressions. The good wishes of family, and the laughter of friends. Joyful music. Delicious food. And through it all, the sweet feel of Jenny Sparrow in John's arms, or at his side, or even laughing as she smeared a sweetbread on his chin.

By evening, John was still mostly sober. Mostly. He'd paced himself, drinking just enough to feel a heady sort of pleasant warmth - or was that the presence of his wife that caused that? So when Jenny pulled him aside, he cheerfully followed.

Of course, he'd have cheerfully followed her anywhere and for any reason. It didn't take a little drink to manage that.

"I think they'd forgive us if we disappeared now," she murmured to him, squeezing his hand.

"I think that if they don't," he murmured back, "they'll just have to pray for a measure of Christian charity."

John surveyed the hall. Everyone was still dancing and eating, and the sound of music and the roar of conversation filled the air. Mr. Dolan looked up at that moment, noticing his daughter and new son-in-law standing by the door. There was a flickering moment of sadness in his expression, as he looked at Jenny, and then he smiled and made a shooing expression with his fingertips.

John smiled back. "Let's go," he told his wife, opening the door.


Carefully, John opened the door of their new home. He had to be careful. After remembering that Jenny was barefoot, he'd insisted on carrying her from the Black Anchor to [url\http://www.thatching.net/bru-content/uploads/P1040086-1024x768.jpg]their cottage[/url]. It simply wouldn't do to drop her, now.

The interior held four rooms - a kitchen, a large room that would serve as a living room and a dining room, and two bedrooms. It was simply furnished and decorated, with neat whitewashed walls and plain furnature of oak. It didn't appear lived-in, since neither of them had wanted to stay there alone, but that would change.

John lowered Jenny's feet to the floor, then closed the door behind them. "We're home," he told her, holding her close. "Our home."

He made a move to kiss her then, but hesitated. After all the waiting. After all the longing and dreaming, the stolen kisses and caresses and ocassionally quite interesting dreams, this was real. He didn't have to say goodnight now, and then turn and walk back to his room alone. He didn't have to stop, or remind himself that they'd promised each other they'd wait until they were wedded.

They were wedded, now. And suddenly, he found himself feeling anxious and even a little frightened.

He laughed. "I... can you believe it?" he said. "After looking forward to this night, to our night, since, since I met you... now I'm feeling... shy."
 
Jenny laughed at John's insistence that it didn't matter whether their guests minded or not. He was taking her anyway. At the door she caught her father's eye as he looked at them. She saw the sadness in his eyes and it was reflected in her own momentarily. She had always, after all, been quite the daddy's girl and she realized that even after sixteen years he wasn't quite ready to say goodbye. Neither was she. But it wasn't goodbye, was it? After all she still lived in the same town, worked in the same place, would see her family every day...she just wasn't his anymore. She was John's. But then Mr. Dolan made shooing motions at them and she gave a grateful smile.

"Musta been drunk off his gourd to let us go like that," Jenny laughed. She had always been firmly convinced that God had put whiskey on this earth to keep the Irish from conquering it.

She whooped in surprise as John picked her up, both of them realizing at about the same time that she'd left her shoes in the pub. Jenny kept her arms firmly around her husband's neck as he carried her all the way to the edge of town and into their little home. She'd seen it, of course, but had intentionally never stayed long. She didn't want to get used to how it felt without John there. Finally he set her down on the smooth wood floors and she looked around, standing in the middle of the sitting room. Their sitting room of their house!

John moved as though to kiss her and she moved toward him, but then he hesitated. As she frowned, John explained himself. "I... can you believe it? After looking forward to this night, to our night, since, since I met you... now I'm feeling... shy." He laughed nervously and Jenny gave him a small smile, stepping to him and taking both of his hands in hers.

"Me too," she admitted quietly, looking up into those dark, intense eyes she had fallen in love with a year and a half ago.

Pushing herself up on tiptoe Jenny kissed her husband. It wasn't, like so many kisses that day, quick and hard and celebratory. This kiss was soft, it was slow and warm like the glow from a fire warming a winter traveler. It wasn't an explicit sexual request but instead a gentle invitation to her body as she stepped closer. This kiss was spiced with rum and love and a quiet but firey passion for the man in front of her. And it seemed to Jenny to last forever. It kept her from shaking with nervousness at least for the time being; she had on a few occasions allowed John's hand to slip below her blouse but had never actually shown her body to him. Now her heavy pulse could actually be seen in her breast as she leaned her forehead against his.

"I want you to touch me, John," Jenny whispered, closing her eyes as she guided his hands to the top of her corset and laid his palms flat against it. She couldn't feel his hands through the thick fabric and whale bone, but what she could feel was that his heart seemed to be beating just as hard as she slid her hands up his chest before resting them on his shoulders.
 
"Me too," Jenny said, responding to his admission. But then she kissed him, slowly and lingeringly, reminding him that she was his now. The warmth of her mouth, flavored with rum and love and desire, spread through his veins. He responded in kind, letting her desire fan his and his own inflame hers further, and he felt her tremble a little in his arms.

John trembled too. Not out of fear, but out of nervousness and love and lust and anticipation. "I want you to touch me, John," Jenny whispered, closing her eyes as she guided his hands to the top of her corset and laid his palms flat against it.

His own eyes closed as he touched the soft skin of the tops of her breasts, hands spreading to caress them gently before sliding up her throat. "I want to touch you, Jenny," he whispered back, kissing her again. "And I want you to touch me back." His hands drifted down her shoulders and along her back, fumbling at the unfamiliar ties of her dress and slowly pulling at the knot.

His lips caressed her jaw, and his teeth grazed the skin of her throat. "God, I want to touch you," he breathed, making a low sound of pleasure as he felt the knot finally give way. He kissed her again, fingers inexpertly unlacing the back of her dress. "I'd have waited forever for you, Jenny Sparrow," he murmured, voice husky. "But I don't want to have to wait any more." The laces dropped to the floor, forgotten as he allowed his fingers to slide beneath the fabric at the back of the dress. They tingled as they found her, and his breath caught as he began to slip the dress from her shoulders.
 
Jenny gasped gently and shivered as she felt John's hands spread over the tops of her breasts and up her throat. Her breath was labored as he kissed and nipped at her skin, his hands fumbling with the laces of her dress as she slowly, button by button, undid his shirt. Her hands were shaking so much it was difficult for her to get each button, but eventually it worked out.

"I'd have waited forever for you, Jenny Sparrow. But I don't want to have to wait anymore."

Jenny felt a shiver of pleasure go through her entire body as he called her that. Jenny Sparrow. "You never have to wait for me again, John," she promised quietly, unable to bring her voice above a whisper.

Finally he managed the laces, which promptly fell to the floor, before sliding his hands beneath the fabric. Jenny felt his hands slide over the skin of her upper back and part of her corset underneath as John slid the dress from her shoulders, down her arms, over her waist, until finally the dress fell petticoats and all to the floor. She was left standing in her underwear and stockings, the most bare she had ever been in front of John before. Finally she had his shirt untucked, the buttons undone, and his tie hanging loose about his neck so she could slide his shirt off and onto the floor. Jenny had never seen a man bare-chested before and couldn't help but flick her eyes up and down his half-naked form appreciatively. Leaning forward, she kissed John's bare chest gently, just over his heart.

"Maybe we should go to the bedroom...?" the new bride suggested quietly, placing slow, warm kisses over John's chest and shoulders, sliding her hands to his waist.
 
John found himself staring in awe at Jenny's half-naked form. He'd had a sense of her figure, of course, but always under layers of dress and petticoats, and he gasped as she stood before him now. His lips found her hair as she began to tug at his shirt, and the feel of her fingers on his chest as she fumbled at his buttons brought appreciative noises from his throat.

She moved just a little, her eyes running over his bare chest, and he sighed aloud as her lips touched him. "Maybe we should go to the bedroom...?" the new bride suggested quietly, placing slow, warm kisses over John's chest and shoulders, sliding her hands to his waist.

"We should," he agreed, although he made no move for a minute. Instead he stood there, revelling in the feel of her lips on his body. Then, finally, he scooped her up again. "This time," he added, winking. The hand supporting her bottom squeezed, enjoying the yielding firmness resting there.

Their bedroom was smallish, and furnished in the same simple style as the rest of the house, and with Jenny in his arms it seemed as grand as a palace to John. Still nervous, he set lowered Jenny to her feet once more and kissed her again. His hands ran over the stiff fabric glued fabric and whalebone of her corset, exploring. Partly because he wanted to touch her, partly because... well..

He broke the kiss, smiling. "I give up," he laughed. "However do I get you out of this infernal contraption?"
 
"This time?" Jenny looked up at him, a half-grin on her face at the scandal.

But then, it wasn't scandal anymore was it? They were married, in their own home, coupling as man and wife. Jenny yelped in surprise when John squeezed her rear then giggled, kissing his cheek as he carried her into their bedroom. Of course he'd felt her bottom before, but it had been through at least three or four layers of clothing. She'd only ever felt the pressure of his hand, really, and feeling his hand now against her skin made her feel like her heart was about to explode. When John set her down in their room she kissed him back with growing passion and roaming hands. Slowly she was getting over her nerves. After all, this was John. She'd kissed him a hundred times before and she knew he would be gentle with her, especially their first time.

Then he was laughing. "I give up. However do I get you out of this infernal contraption?"

Jenny couldn't help but grin back and laugh herself. Really it was ridiculous what women had to go through just to get their clothes on and off. She had already undone John's belt and his trousers mostly open. Gently she grabbed his hands and brought them to her front again.

"Well there's laces in the back," she answered slowly, "but there's an easier way. Here." She brought his fingers to the small hooks at the front of her corset and guided them to unhook the first one, then the second, before letting go of his hands to let him do it herself. Her hands returned to his waist as she kissed him again, pushing his pants slowly over his hips. His skin was warm and smooth, and though of course her mother had spoken to her about the ways of a man and a woman, she had no idea what lay beyond the simple cloth, nor what to expect.
 
Jenny, who had been having a much easier time with his belt and breeches, laughed as well. "Well there's laces in the back," she answered slowly.

John made a show of pouting. "Well, I suppose I'll just have to..."

"But there's an easier way. Here." She brought his fingers to the small hooks at the front of her corset and guided them to unhook the first one, then the second, before letting go of his hands to let him do it herself.

He worked the tiny hooks, finding concentration difficult as she kissed him and as her warm hands slid his breeches over his hips to let them fall to the floor. As the next hook yielded he stepped from his pants, kicking them to one corner. Soon enough, the white fabric of the corset joined them. Then he was trailing kisses over her shoulders and the curve of her breast as he bent to slide her panties down her thighs to join the rest of their clothing.

"God above," he breathed, looking at his wife as if seeing her for the first time. Which, in some ways, he was. Oh, he'd seen her before, daily when he could manage it. But never like this. Not as a vision of creamy flesh and rounded breasts and gently curving stomach and thighs. And the patch of red hair between her thighs was unexpected but delightful.

It was only then that it really struck him that he was naked as well. Naked, and fully aroused. He had a sense like he should be embarrased. But, he wasn't. He wanted Jenny to see him, and if she only saw in him a fraction of the wonder and beauty he saw in her, then he would be the luckiest of men.
 
Jenny's breath caught as John stepped from his pants and kicked them away, just before flinging her corset to the corner with them. She had to brace herself on his shoulders as he kissed over her breast and pulled her panties down her thighs before she stepped out of them and her stockings and kicked them to the side as well. Her knees were weak and her entire body was shaking from nervousness, from anticipation, from arousal...it was all at once the most wonderful and most terrifying experience of her young life.

"God above." John's voice came as little more than a breath. Jenny blushed a little, feeling like she ought to hide her body...but she didn't. John saw her completely naked in all ways and yet he loved her still. He thought she was beautiful. The new bride felt as though she ought to keep her eyes up, that she ought to afford him some modesty...but it was their wedding night and he was having no problem taking in all of her.

The two newlyweds stood, looking at each other. Taking each other in. Jenny's eyes traveled from John's face to his strong shoulders, across his muscular chest and stomach, and down to...oh my. Mrs. Dolan had always been too modest to describe to her daughter what lay beyond a man's trousers. Whenever the two had been alone and gotten carried away Jenny had gotten some sort of idea but she had never thought...well...She felt her cheeks blush a little deeper as her gaze lingered. What did it feel like to hold? What would it feel like inside her? It was much larger than she had thought...would it fit?

Her eyes traveled back up to his face and she smiled nervously, surprised but not the least put out by this newest discovery. Jenny stepped forward, pressing her body against his before sliding her hand in between them to wrap her fingers slowly around his shaft in part to bring him pleasure, but admittedly also to satisfy her own curiosity. Her breath hitched as her fingers curled around him and she leaned in to plant a slow kiss on his chest.

"I want you, John." Jenny could barely force her voice above a whisper for the emotion.
 
John didn't have to wonder long whether Jenny would find him pleasing. She stepped forward, wrapping her fingers around his erection, and kissed his chest. "I want you, John," she whispered, so softly he could barely hear.

He pulsed in her hand, and for an instant he was afraid he'd found his release just from her touch. Not that that seemed a terrible thing, just now. But it would be wasteful. And it certainly wasn't how he wanted to find his pleasure. Not tonight. Not without finding hers as well.

"I want you, Jenny," he echoed, lifting her slightly and lowering her to the bed. There were probably more graceful, more romantic ways to do it, but he was in a hurry and the bed creaked and bounced as she dropped onto the mattress. Before he could bring himself to worry, though, he crawled in after her, straddling her hips as he kissed her again. His erection, thick and hard, throbbed between their bodies.

"I.." John started to say, then grinned in a mixture of embarrasment and delight. "You'll have to tell me, if you like something I do." He planted a feathery kiss on her lips. "How was that?"

He slid lower, nipping at the hollow of her throat. One hand found a breast, cupping and squeezing it. "What about that?" he murmured against her skin.

Aching for her, determined to go slowly, he slid a little lower still. His lips traced the swell of a breast before his tongue flicked softly over a nipple. "Or that?" he breathed.
 
Jenny couldn't help but grin at the way John lowered her onto the bed, crawling after her. She slid her hands to his shoulders, gazing into his eyes as he seemed to search for the right thing to say. His grin only made her grin bigger. John's erection lay between their stomachs, surprisingly warm and soft to the touch; like velvet covering steel. Jenny's breasts heaved gently in excitement and anticipation. She wanted him so badly, wanted to relieve the anxiety of the buildup...but at the same time it was strangely pleasant and she wanted John to take his time with her.

"I'll always love everything you do to me, John Sparrow," his bride insisted quietly, kissing him back as he planted a feather-light kiss on her lips.

She was about to answer his question when he slid lower and she felt his teeth press gently at the hollow of her throat, causing her to gasp. The need slowly creeping up her body from her loins became sharper, more urgent. Even more so as his hand found her breast, followed by his lips and tongue. Jenny slid a hand into her husband's hair as she slid her legs to either side of his hips. It felt...natural. This did, however, place John's throbbing shaft against her slick crease.

"I love it John," Jenny gasped as his tongue flicked over her nipple. "Oh God I love every bit of it." She only wished she knew what she could do to please him in return.
 
When Jenny shifted, gripping his hair and wrapping her legs around his hips, it nearly undid him. He groaned his pleasure into her breast, and his eyes glazed at the feelk of her slick sex against his penis. He hadn't really known quite what to expect, but this?

"Oh God, Jenny," he gasped, rocking his hips and sliding his shaft against the slick lips of her sex. "You... God, Jenny, you feel good." His lips returned to her breast, sucking and gently tugging at her nipple. A wave of pleasure coursed through him and he gasped, looking up at Jenny witk eyes half-blind with desire.
 
John rocked his hips, sliding himself against her. Jenny gasped loudly and her grip in his hair tightened as her mouth dropped open and she closed her eyes. With a groan she arched her back, moving her hips against his. She had never felt anything like this. Masturbation was, after all, sinful; she had never touched herself nevermind been touched by someone else. Her entire body was alive and on fire. It was the most incredible thing she'd ever felt.

"John," Jenny managed to gasp at long last. One hand slid to his hip, pulling his body toward hers. "John take my maidenhood. Oh God please John take me...I need you so badly it hurts." Jenny pulled his hips toward hers, encouraging him to finally enter her, as her other hand pulled her nails gently along his scalp to his neck and across his shoulders. "John!" It was hard to breathe but she didn't want it to end.
 
Jenny's fingers trailed fire over his neck and shoulders. John gasped, arching his back as she tugged at his hips, drunk on her voice as she pleaded with him to take her. Shifting, he felt just the head of his penis slip into her. "God, Jenny," he groaned, voice ragged. "You... feel... so... good..."

His breath was coming in gasps, but he forced himself to hold still. "Jenny," he breathed, looking into her eyes. "I want you, so much it hurts." She moved under him and his eyes closed. "I've... I've heard it... it can hurt. The first time."

She was liquid fire, hot and wet around him, and he ached to fill her. But... "Do.. do you... you need me... to go... slow?"
 
John slipped into her and Jenny gasped, clinging to him for dear life, more ready and sure of this than she had ever been of anything in her life. Her breath came in short gasps as he held still inside her. She too had heard that it could hurt the first time, but it was worth it. Every second with John was worth any pain it would bring her.

"Do...do you...you need me...to go...slow?"

Jenny opened her mouth to answer, but none came. She could barely breathe, never mind talk. Taking a deep breath and holding it, she closed her eyes and nodded. Her entire body was on fire for him and she ached for her husband to fill her and take her, to make her a woman...but if he was offering to go slowly she certainly wouldn't turn that down.

"Yeah," Jenny finally breathed, still nodding. Her brain was too fuzzy to think; she couldn't remember what she had said anymore. "Yeah just...just for now..."
 
John nodded his understanding of Jenny's words, eyes slightly glazed. "Slow, then. For... for now."

God, it was agony going slow. He kissed her hard, tongue filling her mouth the way he wanted to fill her body, fast and hard and desperate fir her. The feel of her sex, stretching around him and sliding over him, caused him to utter a gutteral growling noise of pleasure. Although he had masturbated before, it had never felt like this.

There was a momentary feeling of resistance. Hesitating, he broke the kiss and looked Jenny in the eyes. Need and lust danced in his expression, along with something... worshipfull. "You're mine, Jenny Sparrow. And I'm yours." His breathing was slow and deep as he struggled for control. "Body and soul."

He pushed forward, sheathing himself to the hilt in her body. "Forever," he said, voice filled with mingled lust and wonder.
 
Both hands were clutching at John's shoulders tightly as he kissed her hard and slid inside her. She moaned into his kiss, breathing in sharply and pressing her nails into his flesh. Her body stretched to accommodate his girth and the feeling of being filled so completely was...strange but incredible. Her breasts heaved as she struggled for breath, the feeling of skin on skin only serving to complete the ecstasy of being one with her husband, her lover, her John.

Then he broke the kiss. She frowned momentarily, about to ask what was wrong, but then she saw the look in his eyes. She looked back at him, worship, devotion, and absolute surrender in her loving gaze. There was no one else in the world. This was the moment of truth and they both knew it, and at that moment he pledged himself to her more than any vows the church could make them recite in front of a preacher.

"I'm yours, John Sparrow. Body and soul, forever," she whispered back.

As he pushed forward, hilt-deep inside her, Jenny gasped loudly followed by a long, low, loud moan. Her knees bent and pressed against his ribs as he pushed inside her. She felt her body give in to him and winced, grunting quietly against the pain. It did hurt, being unused to accommodating such a girth inside her body, but it was worth every second of the pain. She buried her face into his shoulder, gasping and holding very still, nails still pressed into the flesh of his back. She didn't know what to do at this point; she was waiting for John to take the lead.
 
Jenny gasped sharply and her nails dug into his back and, just for an instant, John was terrified that he'd done something wrong and really hurt her. She lay very still beneath him, and he could feel her trembling, and he wasn't quite sure what to do now. This was uncharted territory for both of them, after all.

He looked down at her, skin white and hair dark in the moonlight shining through their window, and an overwhelming feeling of love flooded through him. He didn't just want to get off. He wanted to make this special. Make it a night to remember. For both of them.

So he bit her.

Not painfully hard, but not the teasing little nips or gentle grazing of teeth he'd done before. His teeth found the side of her throat, hard enough to make her jump and possibly leave a small mark, and then his tongue traced wbere he'd bitten.

"Tell me," he whispered, one arm sliding under her back and gripping her shoulder, "tell me how this feels..." As he spoke he began wrocking his hips, thrusting into her with slow, deep movements. His own eyes closed as he drank in the sensation of her body, soft and warm and yielding beneath his, and of the blood-hot wetness of her sex gripping his so wonderously tight as he moved within her.
 
Jenny's mouth dropped open and her head lolled back as she felt John's teeth sink into her neck. She gasped quietly, pushing her hips up against his and clenching her inner walls around his thick shaft. As his tongue soothed the slightly painful ecstasy left behind by the bite a low moan escaped her lips.

"Tell me...tell me how this feels..."

Jenny gasped more loudly and a small whimper followed by a shuddering moan rose in her throat. He was gentle and slow, but wonderfully deep inside her. She suddenly felt as though she'd been walking around her entire life only half a person and now she was made whole, body and soul. She never wanted to leave his arms, ever. She wished this moment could last forever.

"It feels incredible, John," Jenny breathed, leaning her forehead against his, still clinging to his shoulder. "It's all so incredible my love. All of it. Oh God please never ever stop."
 
"You..." John managed to say, "you... make it feel... incredible..." Maybe she'd try to argue the point. If she did, he was prepared to try and silence her protests. "Never stop..." he agreed, wishing there was some way to extend all of this - the love and the togetherness and the mounting pleasure - forever.

Without realizing he was doing it, he was thrusting harder and faster. He could feel himself withdrawing a little before thrusting back hard enough to make the mattress bounce and the bed shake. A small part of him wondered if his weight or his thrusting would be too much for his bride (and how breat was it to think that, even now). But the rest was certzin that if it were, she'd say something. Not just whimper and moan and dig her fingers into his shoulders as she clenched around him.

He bit at her throat again, tasting the sweetness of her skin. Then he groaned aloud as he felt himself grow even harder within her, felt his testacles tighten. "Dunno... how long AH!.. how long..." He kissed her roughly, lips hot and demanding on hers. "God... God, Jenny. You... you freel... so... so good..."

Another devouring kiss, his ingers gripping shoulder and hip with near-bruising force. "How..." Another gasp. "I... I want... you..." His words were bursting forth, in time with the rhythm of their bodies. "With me... want you... your... pleasure... with me..."

Did that make sense? He wasn't sure.
 
Jenny moaned louder as John thrust harder, used to the feeling of his girth stretching her walls now. As though she had lost control her own body she felt her hips thrusting against his, sweat slicking her thighs as they wrapped more tightly around his waist. She felt as though she was drowning and he was her only lifeline. Her hands slid down his back, pressing her fingertips into his skin and pulling his hips against her.

"Oh...G-God John! Fast...faster!" The bed creaked as her body bounced against the mattress and she arched her back. She had never had an orgasm; she had no idea what the feeling building in her loins and spreading to her chest was, all she knew was that it felt incredible. John gasped out something about pleasure, but she didn't understand entirely what he meant.

It didn't matter. A blinding flash of white and color all at once flashed behind her eyelids as Jenny cried out her husband's name, using her legs as leverage to arch her back higher off the bed and against John's body. Her inner walls clamped down around his thick shaft, convulsing around it as she wailed her way through her very first orgasm.
 
Jenny moved against him now, meeting his thrusts with her own and begging with lips and body for him to go faster. All caution, all of his fears about hurtiing her, were cast aside as he drove into her harder, faster. The headboard smacked into the wall, the hollow thump-thump a rhythmic counterpoint to theslap of flesh against flesh and their animal sounds of pleasure.

John hung on for dear life, gritting his teeth against the delicious aching tension in his shaft and balls. She felt so wonderful, tight around his monhood and supple beneath him, the muscles in her legs flexing around his waist as she arched herself against him. He was beyond words now, all grunts and gasps and her name, repeated over and over in tones that begged and demanded.

Then, in a sound sweeter than a chorus of angels, she screamed his name as she arched beneath him. The walls of her sex clenched and pulsed around him, and his own back arched as his world narrowed and he drove deep and hard into her. He shouted her name as he pulsed within her, his seed pumping deep into her waiting womb as his own orgasm tore through him.

His thrusts grew slower and less steady as he spent himself in his wife. As they did he slumped forward, breathing hard and aware of an ache in the muscles of his back and hips. Sighing, feelind his softening manhood pulse one last time, he kissed Jenny sweetly with lips that felt bruised. "God, I love you. And I'll be feeling that in the morning," he muttered. Then he gave her a devilish grin. "And in the afternoon and the evening as well, if I've any say in it."
 
Jenny gasped in surprise as she felt John's release inside of her. Her own orgasm had been subsiding, but the realization that John had planted his seed in her womb, that they could create a child together, caused her body to clench around him again though somewhat briefer and weaker than the first time. As his thrusts slowed she pulled him in deeper each time; if he pulled out now she would be left feeling empty and incomplete. She wondered how she had ever felt anything else before now.

The young bride leaned her forehead against John's after returning his kiss, panting weakly and shaking a little. Her throat hurt as she tried to keep from crying. They would be good tears, of course, but she didn't want John to think he'd hurt her or something. A bead of sweat slid from the hollow of her neck down her chest and between her breasts as she laughed and smiled weakly at his assertion.

"Well now we can feel it any time we want, John Sparrow," Jenny murmured. That was enough to lose control of the tears. Several tears slid quietly down her cheeks, dripping onto her chest as she clung to her husband and tried to control her breathing. She didn't know why she was crying, only that it was a good sort of crying.
 
John sighed at her words, a sound of utter contentment. His weight bore down on her still as they lay there, still tangled together, and he idly thought that maybe he should move. But... well, Jenny hadn't breathed a word of complaint, and he was certain she would if she were uncomfortable.

He certainly wasn't. She felt so good beneath him, so right wrapped around his body. He nestled in, seeking a different sort of closeness, one hand gently exploring the unblemished smoothness of her flank.

"God, but I'm the luckiest man in the world."

He felt dampness on his shoulder. Looking, he found Jenny crying. "What's wrong, love?" he asked, moving a little to kiss away her tears one drop at a time. "What's wrong?"
 
"Well you certainly can't be any luckier than I," Jenny murmured, trying to keep her crying to a minimum. "After all, I've just married the most perfect husband in all Christendom." She laughed a little trumpeting laugh, the kind one does when trying to keep a laugh from becoming a sob. She hoped her tears would escape John's notice and they could simply fall asleep tangled up in each other as they were. His weight on top of her felt good. Homey.

She failed. When John asked what was wrong she simply shook her head with a small smile. "Nothing, John," Jenny answered honestly, wiping at her eyes. "Absolutely nothing's wrong and that's just it, isn't it? They're good tears, love. Everything's just so...so overwhelmingly wonderful."

She let forth another burst of laughter, still trying to keep the laughter from becoming sobbing, and wiped her eyes again. Sniffing a little she leaned up and kissed her husband hard. John Sparrow was her husband and nothing could ever take that away from her. It was the happiest day of her life.
 
"Good tears?" John considered that for a moment, the kissed each of her eyelids in turn. "I... don't understand. Not really. But, well, I suppuse I'll just have to work to ensure they're the only tears you shed."

Jenny laughed, wild and free and ever so slightly forced. Then she kissed him hard. His hands framed her face and tangled in her hair as he responded in kind. He tugged gently, encouraging her to arch her neck, and his lips traced the damp trail of her tears down her throat and over her collarbone before returning to her lips once more.

"You're what's wonderful about today, Mrs. Jennifer Sparrow," he said, feeling a warmth and tightness in his chesr. "Everything that's wonderful in the world. You make me feel... free.."

Another kiss, gentle and loving and flavored with hunger as he lingered, tasting her mouth. "This time," he said as he drew back, "I want to go slower." Another kiss. "Take our time, and explore."

His lips found her ear, and he gently tugged at the lobe before csressing it with the tip of his tongue. "I want to feel you all over me, Jenny."
 
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