a one night thing

I assumed as we undressed each other,
that this was to be a one night thing, a fling.

As we first kissed,
I wondered a bit about both,
Your tentativeness,
Your quick, if unskillful, thrusting of your tongue in my mouth.

Your guttural moans,
As I nibbled and sucked first one nipple and then the other,
Caught me by surprise.

When I licked and kissed my way down your body,
I found your body's arching, wriggling, and trembling,
Refreshing and encouraging,
If somewhat startling,
So early in our love making.

Your swift forcing of yourself against my mouth,
When my lips first tasted your clit,
Forced my tongue more deeply into you,
Than I would have gone so soon in our building passion.

The flood of wetness that greeted me as I enjoyed the tightness of your cunt,
Would have left me, opened mouthed, in shock,
If my mouth had not been quite so quickly filled by your nectar.

And after swallowing,
As I moved to kiss you in preparation,
For that which our foreplay had been arousing us,
The look in your eyes completely overwhelmed,
My usually carefully honed thoughts,
My own passion took control of my body.

It was when I laid on top of you,
My tongue deeply in your mouth,
Your tongue as deeply in mine,
Our bodies as firmly pressed together,
as I would have dreamed possible.

It was when  your fingers drew blood on my back and butt,
as I moved to align my cock with your cunt,
as I raised my hips for that first entry thrust into you,
         a girl I had just met,
         a girl who's last name I did not know,
         a girl who's first name I had forgotten,
it was at that moment that I first began to realize . . .

It is was when first I tried to enter you,
And found you a virgin,

It was with your cry of passion, joy, and
victory?

That I first began to suspect,
That this was something more than an evening's passion,
With you in your bed.

It was becoming clear to me,
That the loss of your virginity had been,
But a part of your main goal for the evening.

A light began to brighten,
That this would not be only a night of erotic sex,
Of a treasure lost, given, and gained,
But for you, more.

I assumed passion, ecstasy, even rapture,
As we enjoyed and ravished each other,
But you had planned more.

As, first you bled,
Then your cunt clenched my cock,
So tightly that my trusting and driving,
Was met with bucking and convulsing,
And raised our arousal to a point of,
Glorious, no return.

My orgasm simultaneous with yours,
Was a true climax to our peak of erotic sexual ecstasy.

It was when I held you after,
And said I hadn't known,
That our frolic, our euphoria,
Should reflect your moment of childhood left behind,
And your adult womanhood gained.

I had assumed our rhapsody,
Now,
You returned to me distress, cries, anguish and more.

You sobbed, you bawled, you howled, you wailed,
You grieved and lamented your loss.

And, in your eyes, tears replaced
by a sparkle.

It was at that moment,
Heaven opened to me her gift of knowledge.

When I saw the tearless sparkle, the hint of grin,
It became clear to me, it had been your design,
Not just a night of joy, rapture, even debauchery,
Not just a loss of girlish virginity,
You had designed a map for so much more.

Your plan had been a proposal, a contract.
You had planned in mating, gaining a mate.
In losing your maidenhood, gaining a match.
In trade for your celibacy, your chastity,
Your plan was to gain me, as your husband.

For in every bed there is a promise made,
In a virgin's bed, a betrothal pledged.

And even a cad such as I,
Was bound to that bit of honor's word.

We were contracted, bonded, bound,
In covenant sealed by passion,
to wed.