I remember it like it was yesterday. Paul and I had rushed
through the wedding, due to my pregnancy. A woman’s wedding day is supposed to
feel special and exciting, but there was none of that for me.
Also, Paul was beginning to show his true colors; he spoke
harshly to me many times throughout the wedding-planning process and seemed to
have no interest whatsoever in anything that I suggested. I was devastated;
deep down, I knew that this was the real him. Being so young, though, I didn't
feel that I had any other option but to marry him, especially with the pressure
coming from our parents.
In any case, the marriage day itself passed in a blur. I
remember walking up the aisle to Paul and instead of feeling happiness, feeling
a heavy knot in the pit of my stomach. I remember my family members looking at
me condescendingly and staring at my stomach. It was not a day of joy; it was a day of faint humiliation.
However, my family had grouped together and decided that we
needed to have a honeymoon. They decided to send us on a week-long cruise to
Antigua, in the Caribbean. I felt like
the time together would bring Paul and me closer; how could it not? We were going
to have a family together, after all.
The night before the cruise started we spent our wedding
night in a hotel. Even though we had a shotgun wedding prior, I still wanted the experience to be
special, so I bought some beautiful white lingerie and set up candles all around
the room, along with a bottle of wine for us.
Like much of what would follow in our marriage, it was a
huge disappointment. We arrived at the room late in the evening, and both of us
were exhausted. But I gathered up my strength and asked Paul to take a shower.
My plan was to set up the room while he was there.
Paul agreed. He went into the bathroom and shut the door.
However as he walked in, I noticed that he was carrying something. It looked
like a magazine. He was holding it in a strange way, almost as if he were
hiding it from me. After he closed the door to the bathroom, I heard the water
start running.
My head was spinning. What
the fuck did he take to the bathroom with him? I had a crazy, nagging suspicion that I knew,
but I could accept it.
The water continued to run, a steady uninterrupted stream. I
intuited that he hadn't even gotten into the shower yet. Finally, I couldn't take the curiosity and
suspicion any more.
“Paul, honey? Sorry, but I need to grab something
quickly.” Before he had a chance to
answer I opened the bathroom door, quickly.
There was my husband of just a few hours, sitting on the
toilet. He was holding his swollen dick in his hand, stroking it rapidly. The
strained, flushed expression on his face made it obvious that he was only a
short time away from cumming.
In his hand was a porn magazine. My new husband wasn't getting ready for our
wedding night; he was jerking off to porn!
I was completely shocked, and simply slammed the door shut. What the fuck? WHAT THE FUCK?
I stumbled to the bed and sat there, staring down at my
hands. So much for our wedding night. Paul hadn't even stopped when he saw my
look of horror; he just kept going. This was the man I had married.
There was something else that was niggling at my mind. That
porn mag…why did he need that?
The next day, we began our cruise.