The Rule My Husband Didn’t Change on Our Honeymoon

Damián and I chose the Dolomites for our honeymoon because we wanted something that wasn’t the typical beach with cocktails and crowds. We were looking for adventure and silence in equal measure, and that little town lost among snowy mountains gave us everything: a wooden cabin with a fireplace, snow up to the windows, and the feeling of being at the end of the world. I had spent months imagining that trip. What I didn’t imagine was how much I was going to learn on it.

On the first day we started ski lessons. Neither of us had ever hit a slope before, so we spent the morning laughing and falling. I fell every three meters, ended up with snow down my neck, and got back up with a red face. Damián, on the other hand, learned with that methodical calm of his, measuring each movement, mastering the easy slopes before noon. Watching him focused, serene, controlling the descent the same way he controlled everything else, put me in a mood I couldn’t explain: my cunt got wet inside my ski suit just from looking at him.

The instructor was a young, friendly guy who immediately noticed me. I’m not saying that out of vanity: I could tell by the way he came over to correct my posture, by the way he held my hip longer than necessary, by the way his hand slipped down once to brush my ass over my pants. Damián noticed too. He didn’t say anything, but he stayed close, attentive, with that calm gaze I’d learned to read. Every time the instructor touched me, my husband watched out of the corner of his eye, without a word, and I felt the weight of that look more than the cold.

The afternoons were ours. We went down into the village, strolled through streets hung with lit garlands, and had dinner in one of those tiny restaurants where they serve fondue and spiced mulled wine. We talked about the future, about the house we wanted, about the children we might have. Damián held my hand across the table and I felt like the luckiest woman in the world.

Back at the cabin, the nights became something else. As soon as we closed the door, our clothes started falling to the floor. The first night I barely had time to take off my boots: Damián shoved me against the wooden wall, ripped my blouse open, and sucked my nipples until they were hard and reddened, biting them with just enough force to let out a long moan. With one hand he hiked up my skirt and with the other he yanked my panties off in one sharp pull. He slid two fingers into my soaked cunt without warning and drove them in to the knuckle, moving them slowly, hunting for that spot that made me clamp my legs shut and bite his shoulder.

—You’re dripping, Noelia —he whispered in my ear—. Thinking about this all day, weren’t you?

—Yes, love —I panted—, all day.

He took me to the rug in front of the fireplace, laid me on my back, and spread my legs wide. He knelt between them and looked at me for a second before lowering his mouth to my cunt. He started with slow, long licks, working up from my entrance to my clit, tasting me as if he had all the time in the world. Then he thrust his tongue in, pulled it out, and began sucking my clit with firm pulls that made my back arch against the rug. I grabbed his head with both hands, buried my fingers in his hair, and begged for more without shame.

—Keep going, Damián, don’t stop, fuck, don’t stop.

When I was on the verge of coming, he pulled back. He knelt, lowered his pants, and showed me his cock, hard and thick, throbbing in his hand. He brought it up to my face and I opened my mouth without him needing to ask. I sucked it slowly at first, savoring the tip, running my tongue along the frenulum, then started taking it deeper and deeper until the tip hit the back of my throat and my eyes filled with tears. He held my hair in an improvised ponytail and pushed his hips forward to fuck my mouth with a soft rhythm that built and built until I was gagging.

—Good girl, like that, take the whole thing —he growled—. Look how your husband gets with that pretty little mouth.

When I couldn’t take any more, he laid me down again, put my legs over his shoulders, and drove his cock in with one thrust. I cried out against the shoulder muffling my mouth. He fucked me like that, folded almost in half, with that mix of tenderness and demand of his that undid me: sometimes slow, all the way in, looking into my eyes; other times with hard, sharp thrusts that made my tits bounce and my nails dig into his back. He turned me over, put me on all fours in front of the fire, and took me from behind, one hand on my nape pushing my face into the rug and the other on my hip, pulling me back with every stroke. He fucked me so hard you could hear the wet slapping of my cunt and the smack of his balls against me.

—Come for me, Noelia, come on my cock —he ordered.

And I came. With a muffled cry, clenching around his cock inside me, trembling all over. He held on a little longer, until he dug his fingers into my hips, pulled out, and spread my ass with both hands to come over me, thick hot spurts landing in the crack of my ass and on the small of my back. I lay there panting against the rug, legs open, feeling his semen slide down toward my cunt.

After that we slept skin to skin, with nothing on between us. That was his rule from the beginning of our relationship, and I loved it: no fabrics, no barriers, just the heat of his body against mine, and his soft cock resting against my thigh as a reminder.

***

On the third day everything changed. The cabin heater broke down in the afternoon and, by nightfall, the cold had seeped through the walls like an intruder. Damián, practical as always, put on cotton pants and a T-shirt to sleep. I, relieved, took a thick flannel pajama set from the closet and got ready to climb into bed with him.

—Noelia, you know that’s not allowed —he said, his voice carrying that serene firmness that admitted no argument.

I looked at him, not understanding.

—Damián, it’s freezing. You can’t expect me to sleep naked in this temperature. You’re wearing clothes!

He crossed his arms and watched me in silence for a few seconds before answering.

—It’s different. I set the rules, and this one doesn’t change. What matters is precisely that: maintaining obedience when it’s uncomfortable, not only when it’s easy.

—But that’s absurd —I protested, hugging myself—. I’m not putting up with freezing for some whim.

He didn’t flinch. He pointed at the wooden floor, right in front of the bed.

—On your knees. We’re clearing this up now.

I hesitated. He had a furrowed brow and a tight jaw, and for a moment I thought about standing my ground. But I knew Damián, knew he wasn’t going to give in, and deep down there was a part of me that didn’t want him to. I knelt slowly on the icy wood, still wearing the pajamas, wrapping my arms around my torso.

—I want you to understand something —he said, leaning slightly toward me—. The rules we have aren’t for comfortable days. Obedience in hard moments is what holds everything else together. What truly binds us.

I swallowed. Despite the cold, despite the anger, something in his tone softened me.

—I’m sorry. You’re right.

—Good. Now take off the pajamas.

I opened my eyes wide. But after a moment of hesitation, I obeyed. I took off the flannel piece by piece, until I was left only in my underwear, my cheeks burning with cold and shame at the same time. The icy air wrapped around my naked skin and I started trembling uncontrollably.

—The panties and bra too —he added without raising his voice—. Everything off.

I unclasped my bra and let it fall to the floor. My nipples went hard instantly, more from the freezing air than anything else, though not entirely. I pulled my panties down to my knees and then to my ankles, and ended up completely naked, kneeling in front of him, my hands resting on my thighs and my gaze lowered.

—You’re going to stay like that for a few minutes, to think —he said, looking at me with a calm that raised more gooseflesh than the cold—. So you remember that rules are followed even when it costs you. Spread your legs. A little more. I want to see your cunt while you think.

I obeyed. I parted my knees until I felt the cold air slip between my thighs and up to my vulva. The following minutes felt endless. Every second on my knees on that wood was a strange mix of discomfort and something deeper, something I didn’t want to admit. My whole body was shaking, goosebumps covered my skin, my nipples hurt from being so hard, and yet I could feel my cunt growing wetter inside, the cold humiliation mixing with a murky arousal rising up my belly. I didn’t say a word. I let the punishment run its course because I knew that was what he expected of me, and because obeying him, even like that, filled me with a strange calm.

After about ten minutes, Damián stood up and came over. He brushed the back of his fingers over my cheek, then over one ice-cold nipple, and finally lowered his hand between my spread thighs. He touched my cunt with two fingers and smiled when he found I was wet.

—Look what happens when you behave —he murmured—. Come to bed.

He held out his hand and helped me to my feet. When I got under the blankets I was frozen, shivering all over. He wrapped his arms around me right away, rubbing my back and arms to bring back my warmth little by little. Then he slid a hand down and put two fingers in my cunt without taking his eyes off me.

—Do you understand why it matters to keep obedience? —he asked, searching my eyes and moving his fingers inside me with a slowness that made me clench my thighs.

—Yes, Damián. I’m so sorry. I promise it won’t happen again —I answered softly, feeling small and, at the same time, strangely protected.

—Good. And to avoid misunderstandings like this, from now on, if you don’t agree with something, you’re going to ask me for permission before giving your opinion. Only when I authorize you will you be able to say what you think. Understood?

—Understood —I whispered.

He pulled his fingers out, shining with my juices, and ran them over my lips before putting them into my mouth. I sucked them without breaking eye contact with him.

—Good girl.

He turned over and fell asleep almost immediately, leaving me with my cunt throbbing and no permission to touch myself.

***

The cold kept seeping through the cabin when, deep in the early morning, Damián stirred beside me, half asleep. I had curled up against him and was finally starting to warm up.

—Noelia —he murmured, brushing my shoulder.

I lifted my gaze, sleepy.

—What is it?

—I need you to help me —he said, his voice rough with sleep—. My bladder’s full and I don’t want to get up in this cold.

It took me a second to understand what he was asking. I remembered the agreement from that very night and, instead of protesting, asked permission to express my doubt. Damián, reinforcing exactly the lesson he had just taught me, calmly told me it wasn’t the time to argue, but to trust him completely.

I didn’t push it. I gave him a small smile in the dark and slid under the blankets, finding him with my mouth. I pulled his pants down to his thighs and found his soft, warm cock, which I cupped with my hand before taking the whole thing into my mouth.

When I took him between my lips, he loosened just a little and let out the first warm stream that filled my tongue.

—Drink.

I swallowed without letting him go, and he relaxed again to let out a little more. The taste was bitter, sharp, unpleasant at first, but it came hot and, in some absurd way, it comforted my stomach in the middle of that freezing room. As I took him in, I felt a jumble of things I couldn’t sort out: embarrassment, a touch of disgust, and at the same time the stupid, deep satisfaction of being useful to the man I loved. And, to my surprise, my cunt responded: I could feel it getting wet again beneath the blankets.

Little by little, in small swallows, carefully, I drank everything he had without letting a single drop or a single complaint escape. When he was done, Damián lifted the blanket a little and looked at me with a tired smile.

—I knew I could count on you.

Still blushing, the bitter taste lingering on my tongue, I started to climb toward his neck.

—Always, love. Now sleep peacefully.

But he gently held the back of my neck and kept me there a little longer. Nothing else was needed: his cock, still in my mouth, began to thicken against my tongue, to throb, to stretch. I wrapped my lips around it and started sucking him slowly, licking his entire length, sucking the tip, squeezing his balls with my free hand. He sighed in the dark, one hand in my hair setting the pace. I pulled back for a second to lick him from the base to the head, savoring that salty, bitter residue mixed together, and swallowed him again to the back of my throat, until soft gagging fits I didn’t let him hear.

—That’s it, the way you like it, sucking me off all the way —he murmured—. Good wife.

His cock grew rock hard, swelling inside my mouth until it filled it completely. I sped up, bobbing my head, sucking hard, until I felt him tense up all over. He came with a long shudder, shot after shot of hot, thick semen filling my tongue, my throat, and I swallowed it without letting a drop escape, just as I had done before with the other. I kept sucking him through the last contraction, until he finally went still. Before I could say anything, he had already surrendered to sleep, breathing slowly and letting out a sigh of relief, without even having time to thank me.

***

The air seemed even colder when I got out of bed. I could taste the sour, salty mix in my mouth and knew I had to brush my teeth and rinse thoroughly so no smell would bother him later. With a mix of resignation and determination, I went to the bathroom, shivering with every step on the wooden floor, my cunt still wet between my thighs and with no permission to do anything about it.

The bathroom was even colder. I brushed my teeth quickly, shuddering every time the air brushed my bare skin, my nipples so hard they hurt, and when I was done I ran back to the refuge of the blankets. But as I slid under them, my movements woke Damián, who had been asleep for only a few minutes.

—You’re very annoying, Noelia —he said hoarsely, trying to settle back down.

I shrank, embarrassed at having woken him.

—I’m sorry, it was cold and I didn’t want the bad smell to bother you later… —I began to explain, still trembling.

He opened his eyes fully and looked at me seriously.

—Noelia, when I reprimand you, I don’t want explanations or justifications. Only an apology. Nothing else.

His words shut me up. I lowered my gaze, feeling the weight of the lesson, and nodded humbly.

—You’re right. I’m sorry. I won’t justify myself again.

Damián sensed I meant it. He sighed and pulled me toward him, wrapping me in his arms until his warmth began to melt my frozen one. He lowered a hand to my cunt, touched me slowly, and found I was still soaked. He smiled against my hair.

—Look how wet you still are. You can come, but silently.

He slid in three fingers and started moving them in and out, his thumb pressing my clit in slow circles. I buried my face in his chest so I wouldn’t moan, biting my lip, pressing my hips against his hand. He fucked me with his fingers, searching for my spot deep inside, until I felt the current rising from my thighs. I came against his palm in a silent tremble, squeezing his fingers with my cunt, soaking his whole hand. He pulled them out slowly, ran them over my lips so I could lick my own juices, and held me tight against him.

—Good girl. Now try to sleep.

The slow rhythm of his breathing gradually carried me away. As I felt the cold dissolving against his chest, I promised myself to be more humble. Even though the punishment had been hard, I understood something I wouldn’t have known how to put into words: that our relationship grew stronger precisely in those moments, in the uncomfortable ones, the ones that tested what I was willing to give.

***

The rest of the trip went peacefully. They repaired the heating the next day and we went back to the slopes and the walks through the village. Each day was filled with laughter and little stories we knew we would remember forever. On the last day, while we packed our bags, I couldn’t stop sneezing between bursts of laughter.

—Looks like the cold left you a souvenir —Damián commented, hugging me from behind.

—Maybe. But it was worth it —I replied, and I meant it.

He kissed my forehead.

—You’ve learned a lot on this trip. And that makes it all worthwhile.

I nodded, feeling that something between us had settled forever. Our honeymoon in the Dolomites would stay etched in my memory as what it was: the place where I understood, once and for all, what it meant to belong to him. And, against all odds, it left a good taste in my mouth.