Letter 40 Firsts with Lizamoa.

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Forward to Letter 41.

From Joseph,            
The Game Reserve,                
Andhra Pradesh,                    
India.                        

            To Shanti,
                Titirangi,
                    Auckland,
                        New Zealand.

Dear Shanti and Mike,
        Joseph and Lizamoa here.
        Once again, we are happy to receive your letter from the lovely country of New Zealand.
        We like the idea you had about using the word ‘first’, so we will both be supplying the story for this idea as well. We decided that my story was to be the first one, with Lizamoa giving me some advice and help, and then Lizamoa is going to write another by herself, which she said is a story that even I are not knowing anything about, so I am interested to learn this story. But it will be the next letter from us.
        In the story of this letter, we have decided to tell you about how we are first coming to meet and knowing each other and then until we happened to become to be married. I am thinking you will learn more about us with this story, which we are happy to be telling and you are happy to be reading. I am thinking that this story is not to be very sexy because it was from the early times into our relations, but I am knowing you will be very interested into it as well.
        Now, for me to begin.

        We always were knowing that there were children up at the convent on the hill. The nuns ran the orphanage they had up there. But we hardly ever saw the children because they hardly ever were outside. After all, they lived there and their school was also there as well.
        It was impossible for us to even meet any of these children or even to ever get to make any friends with them. The only time we ever saw them was when they sat by themselves on the other side when we went to the mass into the church.
        They lived in the convent up on the hill, less than three miles from where my parents were having their house, but I am not having any idea that up there in that orphanage, there was a young girl who was growing up to be a very beautiful young woman. This woman had the beautiful name of Lizamoa.

        Once my schooling was over, I left home to work in the Game Reserve as the training cadet. This meant that I was never able to attend the mass in my hometown, and I was never able to see this beautiful girl who was growing up. So I was having no idea who she was and that she was even there at all.
        My training was finished and I became the ranger working at another Game Reserve, further away to my hometown but still a journey by train. My job meant I continued to live away from my family home in another state. I was only able to come home at times to visit my parents.

        One day I was at my parents’ house and my Mother was telling that I should be finding the girl and getting married.
        I protested that I was still young and not too ready to be married, and I also did not know a girl to be married to.
        Yet she persisted.
        “Your Father and I will find the nice girl for you,” she assured me.
        Now, that had me worried as to who she would find. I just hoped that my father would help her make a selection with whom I would be compatible with.
        Anyway, that was how it was left for some months until one day my Father was ringing me and asking me to return to his house, for there was a young lady I should be meeting.
        I was not keen to be married, but when he asked, I had the duty to go, so I arranged to go on the next weekend. I was also becoming a bit curious to know who this lady was I should be meeting. I formed a short checklist in my mind of all marriageable women from among my parents' friends and distant relations, but I couldn't think of one I would like to be married to. This had me a bit worried since I might be pushed towards a woman I did not want. It could become a big problem if I were to meet and then reject a woman they had selected.

        I was at my parents’ house on the weekend. They had arranged with the head nun at the orphanage for the girl to come to the house during the afternoon. Now, I was concerned about this being a girl from the orphanage, but my family are with a modern outlook and has never followed much with the caste system, and so I agreed to at least meeting with her.
        It was a while before she was due to arrive, so I was sitting out on the front having the beer, watching the people and the occasional cars going past the gate, enjoying the heat of the afternoon in the shade. It was a warm day. Well, maybe too hot. So it was nice to be relaxing outside before I had to be ready for when this girl would be visiting.
        I noticed a young lady who was walking up the road. She looked a bit lost as she was looking at the numbers on every house. I wondered who she was coming up the road. I knew all the girls there in that place because we had known them at the school, but I was not knowing of this girl.
        Then the thought came to me. This must be the girl coming to my Father’s house to meet me. She was early for our meeting. But she looked very beautiful. Surely this could not be the little orphan girl. I had the mind image of a woman in poor clothing, skinny from not eating well, but this woman didn't look like that at all. She was well dressed in a beautiful sari, and she didn't look poor or underfed.
        I continued to watch her as she came to and approached our house.
        She stopped outside and looked at our house. We only have an average house because my parents are not wealthy. Then she looked at me. I was suddenly very aware that I was holding the beer in my hand. There was a brief hint of a smile as if she confirmed the house number, and then she turned to me. She asked if my father was at the home. When I confirmed that he was, I also said I would call for him.
        I knew this woman was here to meet me, but I had to call my father first because we had not been formally introduced. This is the way things are done in India. I did not need to worry because there were both my Father and my Mother who were standing behind me. I didn’t see them come out of the house. They asked the girl inside, and then they introduced her to me.
        She was a very nice lady to talk to. A bit shy at first, I am thinking and very polite too. But she was able to; how do you say – hold the conversation on many subjects. She was well informed on news, sports and current affairs, interested in political matters, perhaps even more than I was.
        Apparently, it seems, she had already been meeting my parents as they had paid the visit to her at the convent before this. I could tell they both liked her and were happy with her, too. Being an orphan girl with no parents, I knew there could be no dowry, but I knew my parents would not be concerned about that, being more interested in finding a nice girl for me to be happy with. Of course, in the faraway town where I worked, no one would know her or from where she came from.
        She was a bit shorter than me. Perhaps you would say shorter than most girls. She had long hair well down onto her back. (A lot longer than it is today.) And what I really liked was a very pretty face, a nice smile, and I liked it when she laughed.
        When she was bringing the dish in for dinner, she reached forward to place it on the table, the top of her sari fell slightly away, and I was noticing a curving, well-filled sari blouse beneath. When she returned towards the kitchen, walking away, I took note of the curve of her arse and the narrow sweep of a slim waist. I began to realise there was a very hot body under the loose folds of her sari.

        Always the same, you men! Always the checking out the women. Seeing the breast size, how her bottom looks and looking for the body shape of her. Always checking out the figure first.
        We girls do not do such a thing to that! We don't go looking at the men, to the trousers to measure the cock size. Do we, Shanti? Ha Ha.    (Lizamoa)

        Lizamoa, this is my story to tell. You are to stay out of it. You have your own story you are to be writing. And as for measuring the cock size, I know that sometimes women who know of such things do look down there on a man. And a few times, I have even caught you looking down there on a man.    (Joseph)

        Now back to the story. Where was I? Oh, that’s right. She had the nice personality, a very pretty face and a nice figure too. I really was beginning to like her. (Not just because of her body shape either, Lizamoa, please note!)
        After the meal, my Father offered to take her back in his car. I went along too with my mother and Father in front, and they put Lizamoa and me into the back seat. While we were driving, she reached for my hand and took it with her hand. I looked across at her, and she just gave me a shy smile but kept holding to my hand.
        I noticed the warm softness of her hand, and she had a firm grip, too.
        Well, that was our first meeting between us. On the way returning to my parents’ house, I confirmed to them both that I was interested in Lizamoa and agreeing to meet with her again.

        The second time I met Lizamoa was again at the house of my parents and it was three weeks later. I was busy with my work at the Game Park, and so was the first time for me to take the trip.
        Again, she came by herself, and again it was arranged for her to be there for the afternoon, and again taking her evening meal with us. There were two things that are really standing out concerning this occasion.
        The first one was during the afternoon, we were sitting within the hall, how do you say, the family room. We were playing a game with my old chess set. I thought I was also very good at playing this game, and not often were my opponents able to be beating me playing. But Lizamoa did beat me. It was a bit of a shock – the girl beaten me at chess. Girls never beat me at that game; mostly, they never even played.
        I remember the smile, the look of satisfaction, Lizamoa was willing to say the word, “Check Mate!!” Looking me directly in the eyes to note my reaction.
        I also remember looking across at my father. He just smiled knowingly.
        The second point about the second time I met Lizamoa was about going to the shop. My mother wanted some items for the evening meal, and I was going to get them. Lizamoa offered to accompany me there. It was only a few minutes walking to the shop.
        I looked at the dark clouds and thought to take the car, but Lizamoa said we can be back before the rain. So we walked. It was nice to be with her, walking as we talked, too.
        While we were in the shop selecting the items and we were hearing the sudden noise of the thunder. Yes, the rain on the tin roof was loud too. When we came out of the shop, it was raining very heavily and very hard.
        I told her should wait too, while I would run to the house, and I can bring up my father’s car to get her, but she insisted on coming too. We used some plastic sheeting to try and protect us from the water, but it was no good as the plastic kept blowing apart until it was completely blown off and blown away. Soon we were both very wet, completely through our clothes.
        This is what I will always remember: how Lizamoa looked in her sari, soaking wet. I took a secret chance to admire her as the soft, wet silk clothings clung to every curve of her beautiful body.
        But I also remembered how she looked down at her wet body, then across at my body and laughed.

        See what I told you! You guys have the one-track mind. It is always about the girl’s body. It is always looking at the body shape first. But of course, I knew you were looking at me. I knew you were looking at my wet sari. Not so secret as you were thinking! Ha Ha! That was it for you, Joseph! I could know you liked what you saw with the wet silk clinging to my body shape. After that, you were, how you say, the fly caught in the honey trap.
        I then knew you had an interest about girls in wet saris, just like Mike has the thing about red swimming togs too. Don’t you, Mike?    (Lizamoa)

        Hey, Lizamoa, don’t bring me into this story. If you want to go messing with your husband, Joseph’s story, don’t involve me in it.    (Mike)

        Oh, Mike, how were you getting in here? You are not even within India. It must be the wonder of modern computer editing, I am thinking. Next, maybe Shanti will be here next.    (Lizamoa)

        No Lizamoa. I am too polite to mess with somebody else’s story.    (Shanti)

        Come on, you three! Stop being destroying with my story and let me get it completed.    (Joseph)

        Now to finish the second time we met. My mother found some dry clothes for you, Lizamoa, and we both took a shower. Separately, of course, for those with the naughty minds!
        After the meal, I offered to drive Lizamoa back to the convent. When I reached the gate, I had stopped the car. I said goodbye to her, and to my surprise, she leaned over and gave me a quick kiss on the cheek. Not much you may be saying, but very important to us. A very important moment for us both. The first kiss is a special moment always to be treasured and always kept deep within our hearts.

        “Oh, Joseph, I didn’t know you could be that way with romance.”    (Lizamoa)

        Yes, Liz, I can, and you should be remembering I am to you, too. So go now and make your story romantic too, and leave me to continue my story.    (Joseph)

        Now into my story again. The arrangements were now begun for us to get married. As I was away all the time, I left the details to my parents and the nuns as well. I think it was a big thing up at the orphanage that Lizamoa was getting to be married at last.
        The big date was set for one month. I arranged to get back twice during that time to visit my parent’s house and see the beautiful Lizamoa again. For the third time we met again she came to visit for the afternoon, and we took her back after the evening meal.
        We took some time during the afternoon to go for a walk together. I know that the rice my mother asked me to get wasn’t really necessary because there was still half a bag at the house. Anyway, I was happy to have an excuse to go walking with her. To have an excuse to throw the bag of rice over my shoulder, making it looking easy for me to do with the heavy bag.
        I saw her watching me, smiling as she did.

        “Ah, so he is showing off now! Showing his muscles.” But I was impressed, looking to him, too.    (Lizamoa)

        Yes, you are right, Liz. He does look hot working with his shirt off. A drop of sweat runs down over the muscles of his chest.  Sexy!   (Shanti)

        Lizamoa, I am telling you to stay away from my story! Now, go!    (Joseph)

        Finally, one week before the wedding, I came and stayed at my parents’ house again. This time, it was arranged for Lizamoa to also stay at my parents’ house. Then she would follow us into the church the next morning and so home in the bus, with the nuns.
        This time, when we had finished the meal, we were sitting in the family room to watch a video. I was just going to put the movie on when my parents announced they were tired and wanted to go to their bed. I asked what about the movie, and my father said, “It was OK. You two can watch it too.”
        When they had left the room, I put the video on and went and sat down again. Immediately, Lizamoa got up and came and sat down beside me. She moved over closer to me until she could be sitting close beside me. Soon she was leaning against me. Snuggled up against me. I reached over and put my arm around her across her shoulders.
        She snuggled up to me even closer, resting her head against me. We continued to watch the movie like that. Later, she reached with her hand for my hand, which was across her shoulder and moved it down until my hand was resting on her breast. I gently cupped her breast, feeling it and held it as the movie continued.
        I know this is not that much, you may be thinking, but I came to know that this is another very special moment for both of us. And before you can be saying, Lizamoa, very romantic and a bit sexy too.
        Later, once the movie was over, it was time to go to bed. She came over to me, and I held her in my arms. It was also a very special moment. She pressed against me as she reached up and we had our first real kiss. I could feel her cool lips against mine. They became warm as they were with contact with my lips. I could feel her breasts pressed against my chest. They felt firm as they pressed between us.
        Finally, as I pulled slightly away from her and looked down at her, I told her I loved her.
        She smiled back at me, pulling me back to her and said. “I love you too.”
        “I wish I could hold you forever,” I said.
        “I do too. I wish I could come to your bed tonight,” she said. “I don’t want to wait for another week.”
        “So do I,” I said, “But we must wait, Lizamoa, you know this.”
        “Yes, I know, Joseph,” she said with regret as she pulled away from me.

        I couldn’t sleep that night. The thought of her, the feeling of her against me as we had kissed. I could still feel her, and I could still smell the sweet scent of her.
        As I lay there wide awake, I suddenly realised somebody was in the room with me. I couldn’t see, but I sensed there was somebody close, near the bed. Then somebody had pulled back the sheet and was slipping in beside me. It was Lizamoa.
        She was wearing a nightgown, and as she moved up close to me, I suddenly remembered I was naked. It came as a bit of a surprise, I think, when she discovered this. She hesitated for a minute. I just put my arm around her, holding her beside me.
        “I couldn’t sleep,” she said. “I was thinking about you all night.”
        “So was I,” I replied.
        I could feel her body against me through the thin material of her nightie. I could feel the softness of her breast pressed against me. The firmness of her thigh against mine. At first, her body felt cool from the night air, but as she pressed against me, it soon became warm.
        Suddenly, she lifted up her nightgown and pulled it over her head and dropped it to the floor beside the bed. “I can be like you. Without the clothes. But we can't do anything tonight. Not until we are married.”
        I rolled towards her, finding her mouth with mine as we kissed. A deeper kiss than earlier, much more passionate and intense. I could feel her against me as I wrapped my arms around her.
        She was the first to break the kiss. “It feels so good to be beside you, Joseph.” She whispered in my ear.
        I reached for her breast, feeling the soft swell. I found the nipple at its peak, rolling it between my fingers, feeling it harden under my touch. She gave a light moan of the pleasure.
        I began to run my hand down her body, across her stomach. She reached up and gently took my hand, holding it.
        “We can’t do too far tonight, Joseph,” she said. “You know this.”
        I realised what she was saying. We had to be careful as my parents were just in the next room. But I was content to wait. I was content to hold her in my arms as we whispered to each other.
        Suddenly, I woke up and noticed it was beginning to get light. Lizamoa was still there, curled up against me, fast asleep with my arm still lying across her breast. We must have fallen asleep! Soon, my parents would be awake. I gently shook her until she woke up and suddenly realised where she was.
        Silently, she slipped out of the bed. I watched the back of her nude body before she covered it with her nightie. Quietly, she left and returned to her own room, just in time before I heard movement from my parents’ room.

        Later in the day, after my father had driven me to the station and I was just about to leave to return to the Game Reserve. My father took me aside and spoke quietly to me.
        “Don’t let anyone learn about last night... Particularly your mother.”
        “What do you mean?” I asked, not sure what he was getting at.
        “Last night when Lizamoa came into your room. She was here on trust, and if anyone found out, it would not be good for any of us.”
        “Nothing happened, really.”
        “That is not the point. She spent the night in bed with you.”
        “We didn't mean that. I was holding her, and we fell asleep. That is all.”         “I understand that, but if anyone found out, it would be bad for us if word got back to the convent.”
        I nodded my agreement and then said goodbye to climbing into the train to return to my home.

        The weekend of the wedding was a warm, sunny day. I had travelled back on the Friday and had arranged to take one week of leave. The final arrangements were made for the wedding to take place on the Saturday afternoon.
        We were at the church when all the guests were starting to arrive. It was a big event for the town, and it seemed that almost everyone within the little town had been invited. And of course, all from the convent were there, and even our wedding party had two orphan girls as Lizamoa’s attendants.
        Although both Lizamoa and I both wore traditional wedding costumes, it was not a traditional wedding. The red wedding sari Lizamoa wore looked beautiful and was making her even more beautiful, too. The nuns had done a great job getting her ready. She told me later that there had been half a dozen nuns fussing over her getting her ready.
        The reception was held in the local hall before many of the guests returned with us to my parents’ house. Later, we left to go on our honeymoon.
        They saw us to the station and we left by the train. A friend had to meet us at the other station to return with us to the Game Reserve. I couldn’t afford too much, so I had arranged for a guest house at the Game Reserve. This was a place which overlooked a large lake where many animals came to drink. It was a beautiful location to be in. A very popular holiday place for the tourists.
        When we arrived, we were greeted by many of my work colleagues. They had been busy preparing the guest house, too. They had decorated it especially for us. It looked very nice. Lizamoa thought it was lovely. Soon they all left us; only the two of us were alone in the guest house. It is a very private place, a nice place for the honeymoon to be taking place.

        I took Lizamoa in my arms and bent down to kiss her. Then I noticed there were tears in her eyes.
        “What is wrong, Lizamoa?” I asked. “Why are you not happy?”
        “I’m sorry, Joseph. I’m so sorry.” She said, bursting into tears.
        “Come, come, Lizamoa.” I tried to comfort her, unsure what was upsetting her. “We are married. Everything is fine now. There is nothing to be scared about.”
        “No, it is not fine. It is wrong,” she sobbed.
        “What is wrong?” I asked again, not understanding.
        “It is all wrong, Joseph,” she managed to get out. “It is not the way it should be.”
        She burst into crying. The tears were streaming down her cheeks. I reached for a tissue, giving it to her to comfort her. I was confused and could not understand why she was so upset.
        “Why not?” I asked. I was feeling very confused and didn't know what else to say. I am not used to women and didn't know what to do.
        “It is me,” she said. “We can’t be the man and the wife tonight, Joseph. It’s my woman’s time. It is coming too early.
        With that, she began sobbing again.
        I now came to realise what she was telling me. It was her woman’s time, so we could not become man and wife that night. We couldn’t play the love games together.
        “It’s OK, Lizamoa,” I told her, wiping a tear from her cheek. “We are married now... We do not need doing that... We have the whole of our life together now. We can wait for that.”
        She smiled through her tears.
        “We have each other. We love each other. I love you, Lizamoa.”
        She reached up and pulled my head towards her. Kissing me.
        “Tonight we will be together. Sleep together as man and wife. The love-game will come later.”
        “I love you too, Joseph.”
        “We love each other now. That is the important thing. The love games will come when you are ready to be doing it.”
        I looked down at her, and she was smiling up at me. She reached up and we kissed again. “Thank you, Joseph,” she said. “You are a kind man.”
        Yes, like her, I was disappointed, but I understood her problem now. I had little knowledge of this woman's time, but she told me it would only be a few days. Yes, of course, we could wait for that part. Meanwhile, we would live together, spend the time to know each other, and sleep with her in my arms each night. That is nice too.

        Of course, in a few days, we did get to begin the love games with each other, and it was good. Lizamoa had just been inside, and she was returning to sit with me. We were still at the guest house, and after lunch, we were sitting out on the veranda watching some birds on the lake.
        Lizamoa said, “We can go into the bedroom, Joseph?”
        I didn’t understand what she said at first, “Why Lizamoa, are you tired?”
        “No, Joseph, I am not tired.”
        Then I realised, “Is it over?” I asked.
        “Yes, Joseph. My woman's time is finished.”
        You may be thinking I was a bit slow, but to be honest, I had no idea about these woman things. It was becoming obvious to me that having a woman in my life would be very different, a lot of changes, and I had a lot to learn.

        Soon, we were into the bedroom. After holding her and kissing her, I began to slowly remove her clothings. It was the first time I had seen her completely naked because the last time in the bedroom, it had been dark. What a beautiful woman she was.
        She noticed me looking and suddenly became very aware of her nakedness down below. To hide her shyness, she began removing my clothing. So soon, I was as naked as she was.
        We were on the bed. I took things slowly as I knew she was nervous too. I lay beside her as she lay on her back beside me. Still being a bit modest about her nudity in front of me, she had the sheet pulled over us.
        Reaching under the sheet, I found her breast as I leaned across to kiss her again. She responded to my kissing her, and she responded to my fingers caressing her breast, too. I could feel her nipple becoming harder and the erection under my fingertips now.
        Still kissing her, my hand was moving again. This was the time to travel lower down from her breast, across the smooth, flat of her stomach, to the edge of her pussy. This time, she didn’t take my hand away. This time, she didn’t stop me. I found the edge of the pussy hair under my fingers, and then I continued even further. I continued across the soft matt of her pussy hair and onto her mound. She lay there with her eyes closed, breathing deeply.
        Her body trembled at my touching her. Going even deeper, finally, my fingers found her secret place. She was already wet and ready for me there. I heard a sharp intake of her breath as I touched her there. Slowly, I ran my fingertips up and down the slot of her opening.
        “Nobody has ever touched me there before,” she whispered.
        “I've never touched a woman like this before, either,” I confessed to her.
        “Is this your first time, too?” she asked.
        “Yes,” I replied. “My first time.”
        I could feel her breathing had becoming faster, and I knew she was becoming excited by this thing I was doing to her. She let out a slight moan with the pleasure she was having and the feelings she was having from down there, too. It was good that she was feeling these feelings. I was happy she was enjoying it so far. I wanted it to be good for her, too, if it could be like that.
        Lying back on the bed with the eyes tightly closed, she allowed her legs to slide even slightly more open for me, making way even more for my hand. With the legs parted for me, my hand began to explore deeper into her secret treasure place. I began to run up and down her slot, letting my fingertips enter between her lower lips.
        Then I felt her hand take my hand. Was she pushing me away? No, she was guiding me with her hand. Guiding my fingers to her clitty. This woman was showing me as she liked it. She wanted me to touch her there, too. This was exciting for me that she was wanting me to touch her and get herself even more good feelings. I was happy with this, too.
        “What is this?” I asked, a bit surprised.
        “That's my clitty,” she explained. “It is very sensitive. It makes my orgasms.”
        Then I felt the cool hand on my erection. Gently, attentively at first. As if she was not sure what she should be doing. Then more confidence as she took me in her hand around my shaft, grasping me and moving up and down. Slowly at first and then a bit faster.
        Soon, she was getting worked up. I felt her hips moving slightly, and she was thrusting against my hand now. Her pelvis was pressing against my hand with each movement made with my fingers. Then she reached for me, pulling me towards her, and I knew she wanted to try now. I wasn’t sure how it would be for her the first time, but we were ready to try.

        “Are you ready?” I asked her.
        “Yes,” she gasped, her breathing heavy. “I want to do it now.”
        “This might hurt a little bit.”
        “Yes, I know. They told me there would be some soreness the first time. But it will quickly go away.”
        “If it is too much, tell me and I will stop.”
        I wondered who “they” were for a moment before I continued. I thought nuns are not supposed to know about things like love games.

        I rolled on top of her, being careful not to put my full weight on her. I was worried about hurting her back then, but now I have come to know that even being as small as Lizamoa was her body can take my weight during the sex games. I was guiding the tip of my penis to the wetness of her opening. Just the tip at first, and then I pressed deeper.
        What we both didn't realise was that I am extra big down there. In India, it is not common to see other people, even other men, naked, so I had no idea how I compared to other men. I thought I was about average, and all men were like me. Lizamoa had never seen a man naked before, so she had no idea about this either.
        She let out a soft cry as her eyes opened. I held still for a moment. Then I pushed again deeper into her. Then I was nearly all the way inside her. I began moving in and out of her. Very gently at first and very slowly also at first. I could tell for a moment she was a bit sore, but soon I knew that other feelings had begun to take over her.
        Suddenly, she took me by surprise as she thrust against me. Gasping, moving her pelvis against me, her body bucking and humping up at me as her climax came on to her.
        I hadn’t expected her to achieve the orgasm the first time with sex. Not that fast anyway, but I was pleased that she did this. The thrill of this sent me off, too. I pumped my cum-juice into her pussy.
        We lay beside each other on the bed until our breathing was normal. She rolled towards me and putting her hand on my chest.
        “That was lovely,” she said.
        “That’s good,” I replied, happy that I had pleased her too. Because, to be honest, I really didn't know how a woman would get enjoyment from it.
        “Was it good for you, too, Joseph?” she asked me.
        “Yes, it was amazing.”
        She smiled back at me. “I am so happy being with you, Joseph.”
        “So am I Lizamoa.”
        “I am happy I married you, Joseph. You are a kind man, they told me you would be. I know we are going to be very happy together.”
        There was that "they" person again. They had told her a lot, maybe more than I knew. What more was there waiting for me to say? I just reached and took her into my arms and kissed her. She responded to me and kissing me back.

        The next morning, she wanted to try again. This time, when she was naked, she was more confident for me to see her naked. There was no hiding under the sheet.
        As I lay back on the bed, she was kneeling beside me, looking down at my hard cock.
        “It is very big,” she said. “Can't believe it could fit inside me.”
        “Touch it if you want,” I said.
        She gently reached to take it with her hands. Holding it as she looked at it.
        As she explored me, I explained what the different parts were. I showed her how to pump me with her fist wrapped around my shaft. She was surprised at how she could move her hand like that. She was also surprised at how hard I was.
        “So hard,” she gasped in surprise. “So warm too.”
        “It is blood pumped in to make it hard,” I explained.
        She lay back on the bed and opened her legs. “Can see if you want. I don't mind now. Touch me too. I liked what you did before.”
        I touched her as she explained more about her body parts. She showed me how and where she liked to be touched. I pulled the lips apart and viewed the soft pink flesh inside. I rubbed and played with her clitty, and with a bit of instruction from her, I brought her to another orgasm.
        Before long, it was time for us to do it again. This time it was even better for both of us.

        The next morning, after breakfast, we were sitting outside again. Before long, the conversation turned to what we were doing in bed. She admitted that she really liked playing love games. I replied, I liked it too.
        Then her voice lowered as if there was someone nearby to hear us. “Do you ever make yourself cum?” she asked me.
        I was surprised at the question and, for a moment, unsure how to answer it. Then I decided to be honest with her.
        “Yes,” I replied. “I do that, but not any more. I have you now.”
        “You can still do it, Joseph. Especially if it is my woman's time.”
        I just nodded. A bit embarrassed talking about such personal things.
        “I would like to watch what you do,” she said with a smile.
        “But I don't think...” I began.
        “Come on, Joseph. We are married now. We can share private things.”
        “I don't think I can do it...”
        “You can do it. It is natural. I do it sometimes.”
        “You mean you make yourself cum?” I asked. I didn't know women did this, too.
        “Yes, I do it sometimes. But I've always shared a room with other girls, so I had to be careful.”
        “I didn't know women could do that.”
        “I'll show you if you want. But you have to do it too. I want to watch you too.”
        The thought of seeing a woman doing that was too much. I wanted to see that she agreed to doing it with her. That was so sexy watching what she did to herself. She was a bit rough, and I was worried she might hurt herself. I did it for her, too. My hand pumping my cock while my other hand played with my balls.
        I was shocked at how quickly I was ready to cum. She must have seen it and encouraged me to cum. She had spread out a towel and allowed me to shoot over it. Moments later, she gave a moan, her pussy humped against her hand, and she cum too.
        That was amazing, watching a woman pleasuring herself. It was sexy doing it together like that, too. It also taught us to talk about sexual things and be open with each other. A good way to start our marriage.

        The next day, our honeymoon was over, and we moved to my single-man quarters. It was very small without any room for her. But I explained we would be moving to a bigger place in two weeks, so we made the best of what we had in the meantime.
        While I was working, Lizamoa walked to the shop to buy the things for cooking. She made friends with the woman in the shop and asked if there was a job for her to do. When the shop woman heard she was did teaching, she sent Lizamoa to visit the local school. They were interested in giving her a part-time job.
        When I heard, I didn't like her working, but as we talked, she explained she would like something to do each day. She also said she liked teaching children, so I allowed her to take this job. While she said it wasn't because she thought I couldn't provide for her, the money was useful.

        So we are looking forward to you both being with us in India, and where we can spend time with each other again. I am thinking there will be some sexy adventures too. Lizamoa and I are already planning one sexy adventure for you both to enjoy, but of course, we cannot be telling you about this surprise yet. And yes, we are also willing to be doing the partner swapping with you both again if you are willing to be doing this thing again too.
        That is all we have for this letter. We will be waiting to read your letter with the first too.

                Bye from us in India,
                        Love from,
                                Joseph and Lizamoa.

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