My Cuckold Wedding

Chapter Four - Training Day

I was lying naked (as usual) in Gregg's arms when Mark rang the apartment from the entrance three floors below. “I shall go and let him in,” my lover said as he eased himself from me, hopped out of bed and left the bedroom to press the downstairs door release. “Come on up,” I heard him say into the speaker, “Apartment Six!”

Gregg, also naked, stood waiting by the access control until he heard Mark's footsteps on the stairs and then, after checking through the glass spy hole, swung open the heavy wooden door to his apartment. Mark walked in and stopped in his tracks when he saw the big strong naked man before him. Later, after we were married and I was expecting Gregg's first child, Mark would tell me that after he had looked down for the first time at my Lover's manhood hanging from his groin, he knew he had made the right decision the night before. “The moment I saw that big cock of his, I knew I could never compete with that,” he had said, and wisely he did not. 

"... I knew I could never compete
with that,” 

“Come in Mark. We are all friends here,” Gregg said as he pointed towards the bedroom door, “and my Mistress is in there waiting for you.” 

Mark shuffled sideways towards the bedroom, not once taking his eyes from Gregg's salami sized organ, and barely avoided tripping over the Turkish silk rug on the parquet floor. I had watched his arrival and had felt as nervous as he had in those initial moments but I had also remembered that Mark had begged me to dominate him. It wasn't in my nature to be a bully but I also knew that my fiancée needed me to control him.

“Clean me cuckold,” I said in a voice more authoritative than I felt.

“Here?”

“Where else. So much nicer than your Daddy's SUV don't you think?”

Mark was still in his office clothes although he shrugged off his jacket before crawling up onto the bed and placing his head between my open legs.

 
“Get to work!”
 
“Yes Mistress,” he managed to say, just prior to his tongue making contact with my semen soaked labia and wide open vaginal entrance. And there was plenty of Gregg's seed to keep him occupied and happy in his worshipping of my womanly (not so private) parts.
 
Gregg returned to lie naked alongside me on the bed and asked, “How's he doing?”
 
“Brilliantly,” I replied honestly.
 

I had previously thought that Mark would be good at submissive cleaning duties and indeed, he had proved himself to be just that on the rear seat and in the dark after parking up in our favourite spot. But this was a new Mark – a deeply committed Mark who worked tirelessly on my pussy and collecting streams and globules of semen that oozed from my vagina. Tiny whimpers and moans came from his throat as his sexual arousal brought him to heightened stimulation. He was letting go of the last of his sense of manliness and he was loving the pure depravity of pleasing his unfaithful future Wife while consuming her Lover's creamy deposits.

 “I can see,” Gregg remarked, as he gently rubbed his hand over my tummy and kissed my forehead.

Eventually, like most good things, my body failed to give up donating Gregg's salty cream for the gratification of my cuckold fiancée.

 “Now dress our Mistress - young man,” Gregg said, “and perhaps we could progress our new relationship tomorrow.”

 I lifted my head, still feeling happy and satisfied after Gregg's powerful love-making and Mark's gentle, intrusive, and pleasurable tonguing. Mark had slid backwards off the bed and was now searching for and collecting my panties, bra, garter belt and stockings; it was a pretty lavender coloured set that Mark had bought for me and I had worn it especially for him – and Gregg because I knew he would like it too. My fiancée would need help to dress me so, unwillingly, I rolled out of the bed and stood waiting.

 Delicately and carefully Mark eased my panties up my legs and pulled the delicate lace undergarment over my round bottom and nestled it against my groin. Next, he placed my bra across my breasts and, after asking me to turn around and hold it in place on my breasts, he expertly clipped me into place. I was expecting the garter belt and stockings to defeat him – as it does most men - but Mark was a revelation. In the same way that I put the belt on that morning, by fastening it at the front and by then swinging it around my back to settle on my hips ready for my stockings to be clipped into place, he did exactly the same. His face was one of complete concentration as he rolled a black stocking up each proffered leg; it was a look of complete dedication without false pride or hubris – my personal submissive servant. Both Gregg and I were impressed by my little pervert who knew exactly how to neatly attached each stocking to the dangling fasteners.

 “How are you feeling?” I asked Mark as we climbed into the SUV to go back to our respective parents' homes.

 “Happy!”

 “Oh really?” I exclaimed, “Not even a little humiliated?”

 “Humiliation is my natural bedfellow Mary,” he replied unemotionally, “unlike your natural bedfellow.”

 “Ouch!” I cried out laughing, “that was a low blow.”

 Mark laughed too, and the two kids who had grown up together were back. We were the happy couple who had lived in each other’s lives for over ten years.

 His happy mood changed suddenly as, I could see, a significant thought had crossed his mind. “Mary, am I depraved?”

 I reached out to stroke his face in the way that I knew he loved. “You are doing the best you can Sweetie. We both know that you are not well endowed or a particularly stimulating lover. So are you depraved? Maybe! Just a little!”

 “But I enjoy being submissive,” he said, “ and I accept it when other men have you. I even feel good that you and Gregg are lover’s – fallen in love even. That's not normal is it? Am I a freak?”

 This was a turn of events that promised disaster, but I had to be honest with Mark. He was going to be my husband soon, so I owed him that at least. Clearly he had suddenly become conflicted in his emotions.

 I grabbed his shoulder and squeezed it to reassure him and gathered my thoughts. “Mark, listen to me. Gregg has told us both that there are many men such as you – cuckolds – who live submissive lives, and enjoy being in a Female Led Relationship.”

 I could see the moisture in his eyes that told me he wanted reassurance. “Mark you are a gentle loving man, and that is why I am going to be your Wife – If you'll have me.”

 “Of course I will,” he said.

 “And ‘depravity’,” I said employing air quotation gestures, “is no more than a word. It's what you are comfortable with is all that matters.”

 “I know that,” he replied testily, “but I wouldn't be able to cope if you thought that I was some kind of depraved animal. And then left me.”

 I judged that he needed a little more than soft, kind words; so grabbing a hold of his chin with my hand I pulled his face towards my own I yelled at my fiancée, “Not going to happen fella! You're mine so get used to it.”

 My forceful action did the trick. Mark calmed himself and we agreed that he would pick me up from my house at twelve o'clock the next day (Saturday) and we would join Gregg at his apartment at half-past as arranged.

 “Come in you two,” Gregg said as we entered his apartment and, unlike the night before, he had clothes on; namely, Chinos, short sleeved shirt and leather sandals. “And before we get down to business, how are your wedding plans going?”

 I stopped unbuttoning my blouse for a moment and looked at Mark who stood to one side waiting to be told what to do. “Mary has said that she wants some parts of the vows removed,” he said.

“Mark's right,” I said, turning to Gregg, “I can't make promises I have no intention of keeping.”

 “Such as?”

“Forsaking all others.”

It was Mark who replied. “So finding a Reverend who would comply with our wishes is almost impossible.”

Gregg smiled and responded by saying, “What would you say if I was to tell you there is an answer to this minor little problem.”

“I'd say tell me more,” I replied – my fingers still on the top button of my blouse.

Gregg pointed to my chest and said, “Stop that. That’s our cuckold's job.”

I dropped my hands away and looked over at Mark who appeared to be as confused as I.

“Mary,” Gregg said turning to us both, “do you remember our talk about the number of men who live the cuckold's life?”

“How could I ever forget,” I replied, thinking back to that wonderful night in Ottawa and the talk we had on the plane home.

He smile warmly at our shared memory, and continued, “can you recall me saying that Mark was not as unusual as you may think.”

I glanced at Mark. His eyes were wide open and he was listening intently what was being said by the more experienced man.

Gregg sat down on a nearby armchair and indicated for us to do the same; once comfortable he said, “It is estimated that one in three men accept their Wife or Partners infidelity and that many of those actively involve themselves in their relationships. If you think about it, that is millions of such relationships throughout the known world, and Canada is no exception. And how deep each man immerses himself in his Lady's affair is wide and various. You may also be interested to discover that the wearing of a penis cage is often just the first step for many.”

Mark coloured at this thought, but he was hanging on every word.

“And,” Gregg continued, “I can tell you now that I know of at least ten couples who live this way in just our small town, and we have a minister who recognizes their need to have their relationship recognized spiritually. “

“Wait a minute,” Mark exclaimed, “are you saying the church recognizes ...,” he searched for the right words but found none.

“They recognize gay marriage of course,” Gregg said, “but three cornered relationships they have difficulty with, although other religions have little difficulty with the concept. But there are some ministers who take a more relaxed view of these matters, especially if they can be convinced of the seriousness of their commitment. And we have such an enlightened pastor in our midst.”

One could have cut the silence in the room with a knife as Gregg sat patiently to let this information sink in to his two younger guests. But it was Mark who disturbed the peace.

“Who?”

“Reverend Galbraith.”

“Martin Galbraith?” I exclaimed. “He taught me at Sunday school.”

“And would it surprise you to learn that his lovely Wife has a lover,” Gregg divulged to us both.

“I don't know Susanna very well,” I said, thus confirming that I hadn't been near a church since I was twelve years old, “but she often spoke of her ‘friend’ - the tall basketball player who played the guitar at some of her evening gatherings.”

“His name is Ramone and they have been ‘friends' for years,” Gregg confirmed, “and I should say that Martin tells me that their passion for each other is as strong now as the day that big man entered his Wife, and took her in his own marital bed. Martin is a good friend of mine – we have few secrets from each other. ”

... their passion for each other is as strong
now as the day that big man entered his Wife ...

“And he would officiate a three cornered cuckold wedding?” Mark asked.

“We call it a Polyamouric Wedding, Mark, but you can call it that if you wish,” Gregg replied, “and I think you should ask him that question.”

Mark was like a dog with a bone; he would not let the matter rest. “I shall ring him tomorrow to set up a pre-wedding interview.”

Gregg stood up and walked over to where I sat and held out his hand for me to stand up.

“Seven thirty on Tuesday evening,” Gregg said while looking warmly into my eyes, “it's already arranged. Now come and undress your future Wife for me.”

Mark was out of his chair and by my side in an instant. With trembling fingers he loosened each button on my white blouse to release my black lace encased breasts to the full view of Gregg. Kneeling before me, he unzipped the side of my blue denim skirt to enable the heavy cloth to fall to the floor. I was in my underwear in front of both men, and I could tell by the change in their expressions that both were enjoying the sight of the semi naked young woman before them. So to move things on a bit, I unclipped my bra and stepped out of the panties that Mark had eased down my legs to rest around my ankles.

Gregg had removed his own clothes and stood waiting for me to join him with wide open arms. “Time for bed don't you think?”

“I'm absolutely certain of it Master,” was my reply as I placed my arms around his neck and pressed my bare breasts against his powerful chest. Almost straight away his beautiful big penis started to brush against my thighs as it transitioned from ‘floppy' to ‘interested' and then to ‘wide awake’.

“Cuckold!” Gregg said to my fiancée, whose eyes were wide open and staring at the two lovers. “I know that you like to watch, so pull that chair over to the bedroom door, remove all of your clothes and remain there - in silence - until summoned.”

Mark's pants, shirt, shoes and socks were off before Gregg and I reached the bed and he was sat, leaning forward, staring intently at us both before I had opened my legs for Gregg's searching tongue. He was as good at cunnilingus as Mark who, it must be said, had enjoyed far more practice than he.

‘I guess some skills come with experience,’ I thought as the first enjoyable sensations of the afternoon coursed through my body and each wave of pleasure grew more intense than the previous. So when Gregg raised himself from my groin I opened my legs as wide as they could go in that everlasting invitation of a Woman in love with her man. And as I did so, I heard a suppressed whimper from the bedroom doorway.

Gregg and I were highly attuned to each other's bodies, needs, and emotions. There was no awkwardness as we manoeuvred our bodies and limbs in our act of love – we were as one as we writhed and moved in the thrusting pleasures of coitus. Our lips and tongues exchanged bodily fluids as we kissed passionately, while down below my vagina and his hardened rod melded our own love juices – it was messy but so, so lovely to be joined with this man in this way.

Knowing her man, as a good Mistress should, I could sense that Gregg's climax was close. His movement inside me became faster and harder as the sensations in his member and his whole being intensified until finally he moaned, grunted, and then roared in those delicious moments for a man when his seed streams into his loving conquest.

“Fill me My Love!” I said into his ear as his whole body shuddered and trembled as spurt, after spurt erupted his semen deep into my vagina. My own body continued to quiver in orgasm in those final moments of lovemaking just before Gregg collapsed on top of me in total gratification of his desires.

It could have been seconds, minutes, or hours that we lay, still connected as one being, in that post coital blissful state that satisfied lovers achieve; I neither knew or cared. But gradually we both re-joined the world as Gregg's beautiful rod softened and our senses returned to normal. And Mark still sat in the bedroom door – naked, except for his cage, wide eyed and open mouthed and red in the face.

Mark had seen my head turn towards him and his eyes met mine. His mouth moved, silently trying to form words, but he could not – he looked traumatised by what he had witnessed. Finally he found his voice – just – and managed to croak, “I have never seen anything so ......”

“So ... what?” David asked from somewhere near my left ear.

“I don’t know,” Mark replied – still croaking. “So! So mind blowing! So erotic! So beautiful!”

“Yes it was,” I said, still in that zone somewhere between ‘after-love satisfaction’ and the languid state of the well serviced woman. Gregg too was comatose after his exertions for which I was very grateful,  but it was he who initiated the next episode in our mini three person orgy that wonderful weekend. Moving slowly and carefully he eased himself up from lying on top of me and as his soft large organ slid out of me he turned to Mark to snap his fingers and beckoned him over to the bed.

My fiancée did not need words of instruction or coaxing. No sooner had Gregg lay down beside me on the large soft bed, Mark's tongue was lapping at the semen that my Lover had gifted me. The trail of sticky fluid across my thigh where Gregg’s roll of pink flesh had brushed against me as he had moved across my body was cleaned almost immediately, closely followed by Mark's industrious tongue licking, slurping, and swallowing the stream of my Lover's ejaculate that came from my vagina. And Mark, as he would tell me later, never felt happier than he felt at that moment. “I was serving you,” he told me, “and that is all I have ever wanted to do.”

As I lay alongside Gregg, enjoying Mark's attentions to my groin I couldn't help but wonder just what kind of husband my fiancée would make. He is intelligent, well-read, and pretty athletic and quite good looking, and if I was honest with myself I would admit that many girls had been attracted to him who had given me cause for concern during our teenage years. But he had discouraged them and had stayed faithful to me – never once looking outside of our cosy bonding. It would be something I needed to discuss privately with Gregg – he would know.

Mark would still be licking my pussy today had I not stopped him. The flow of salty cream had finished so Mark had transferred his attention to my clitoris which, unsurprisingly, I felt very happy about. But my Lover also had needs and Mark was required to continue his cuckold training, so it was I who disrupted the lovely lascivious fun by reaching for Gregg's flaccid cock and saying to Mark, “Come and join me Mark.”

Gregg moved sideways to sit over the side of the bed to allow me to place myself at his feet with Mark alongside me. Taking a hold of the exquisite fleshy member in one hand and resting my other hand behind Mark's head I gently kissed the warm round purple glans. I had made the decision earlier not to force my fiancée to do anything that he didn't want to, but my light pressure on his head was a signal for him to commit to a new, albeit totally unexperienced, sexual encounter – if he was willing.

He was willing! Very willing! He did not kiss Gregg's dark helmet as I had, but his now well-worked tongue flicked out at the bulbous head of his manhood as if he was testing his own sexual instincts. He licked it once, stopped for a second, licked it again, then placed his lips over his urethral slit and slid the large head into his mouth. My fiancée, the man who would one day be my husband had another man's penis in his mouth, and I could tell that he was enjoying his personal journey.

I allowed Mark his head (Sorry!) for just a few seconds until, easing him to one side, I joined him on my knees to pay homage to our Master together. ‘It's good for a couple to have a common interest,’ I thought mischievously.

It's good for a couple to have a common interest

Either side of Gregg's large softened member, Mark and I worked together in our loving devotion to the masterful man who was now my Lover. The warm soft flesh slowly hardened and grew under our attentive mouths, lips, tongues, and gently searching fingers until it slowly raised itself to its former glory – hard, erect, and ready for me.

Quickly, Gregg shuffled across the bed to lie on his back, and with equal speed I left my fiancée on his knees by the bed and climbed up and spread my legs across my Lover’s waist. With one hand, I felt below me for the large erect rod so I could position it to ease myself down and envelop its strength and heat inside my tunnel of love - but I felt something else - Mark's warm hand wrapped around its solid girth. He was holding my Lover's cock in readiness for its insertion into my body. He was serving us both like a devoted body servant – submissive and willing. And with a light in his eyes I had never seen before – he was happy!

“You can stay by the bed and watch cuckold,” Gregg said to Mark, as I slid slowly down his rod until all of it was now embedded deep within my body, “but don't speak or interfere until I say so.”

I barely heard Mark's, “Yes Master!” due to the waves of pleasure washing over me again as I started to rock backwards and forwards on his stiff manhood. And once again, as my breasts bounced freely in rhythm to my rocking, and riding, Mark watched spellbound in his own little cuckold world.

It was late evening before our carnal lusts were sated and three ‘normal' people sat around, now semi dressed, sipping champagne and eating small delicacies from Gregg's refrigerator. Our talk was quiet, friendly, and intimate as we spoke of our strange new futures, and for what we had planned for our wedding day; for it was ‘our' wedding day and Gregg had much welcome advice to give.

“You know, Martin is not the only friend I have in this town,” Gregg said between mouthfuls of smoked salmon and Bollinger. “I also know the guy putting up those new homes on the other side of the lake.”

I was tired and wanted to feel my Lover's arms around me as we drift off to sleep, but at his words my head shot up in interest, and so did Mark's. Our eyes met in happiness as we realised that we could at last be a couple with their own place and not just two kids living with their parents. But Gregg had more to say.

“I could ask him to put you on his waiting list for one of the smaller properties by the water's edge if you wish.”

Our reply of, “Yes please,” was in unison and loud, which caused Gregg to laugh and reply that he would arrange for us to meet his friend and view the plans for the house.

Our lovely evening ended with Gregg and I leaving Mark to snuggle under a blanket on the large soft sofa in his living room and off to bed my Lover and I went – holding hands and happy in our love. I was content that Mark accepted being left out of the bedroom and thought little of it as Gregg and I made slow and joyful love before sleep overcame us; but the morning gave me further cause for thought concerning my future husband.

“We need to shower,” Gregg said as we woke to the sunlight glinting off the lake into our bedroom. He was right, our efforts the previous night had brought the inevitable bodily smells to the fore, however a knock on the bedroom door stopped us in our tracks as we headed to Gregg's shower room.

“Can I come in please,” asked Mark, the other side of the door, “I need to freshen up.”

I glanced at Gregg and he nodded in agreement. “Come in Cuckold,” was my response.

Mark was still naked, except for his cage, and looked like he had enjoyed a very restful sleep, his demeanour nonetheless was much the same as it had been the night before - submissive and ready to serve.

“Thank you Master and Mistress,” he said meekly, and then raising his eyes to meet Gregg's gaze, he continued, “and I am ready to serve you both again.”

“Excellent!” exclaimed Gregg. “And my Mistress and I need your service.”

It must have been a curious sight to see three naked adults walking into a spacious shower room together; they would have seen a mature man with a well honed muscular body complete with an impressive member swinging from his crotch as he walked, his attractive Mistress with her round bottom and pretty pert breasts that were now his personal playground, and a timid smaller man with a metal cage on his penis. And it would have been even more extraordinary to see them enter into the luxury shower booth together.

As the warm water streamed from the wall jets and the sprays above our heads, Mark took a hold of  a bottle of shower gel soap and the soft sponge that hung by a piece of thin rope from a suction hook adjacent to the flow controls. He was ready to put his promise of servitude into action.

“Ladies first,” he said, as he started to wash my back and my legs while kneeling behind me. Gregg, on the other hand, started to wash himself while at the same time enjoying the sight and closeness of my naked body – he had a very happy smile on his face.

While even the most dedicated slave can do their best to clean their Mistress, it always needs the final intimate attentions of the person who is in touch with their own body. So I quietly asked Mark to concentrate on the personal needs of Gregg, who was finalising his own ablutions; nevertheless, what happened next was totally unforeseen by me.

During the previous night I had become accustomed to seeing Gregg's large cock disappear into Mark’s open mouth – albeit temporarily, but the moment he knelt before my Lover to start rubbing his wet hands up and down the large tube of pink flesh and then lean forward to lick it from head to base astounded me. Gregg, seemingly unsurprised by Mark's intimacy, looked down at him benignly – smiled – and then leaned back with his hands behind his head to enjoy what Mark meant by ‘service’.

My fiancée worked Gregg's member with an astonishing fervour and attention that had me gasping in amazement. Their was no hesitation or sense of embarrassment by the man I was going to marry – he just used his tongue, throat, exploring fingers and hands to excite the man he was now referring to as ’Master’ to raise his large pink cock with its purple head to full strength and pride. I waited to be beckoned back into the shower cubicle but no such signal was made as Mark continued to work on the soft skinned but iron hard rod of my Lover's. So when a soft groan came from Gregg, I realised that I was not involved in this little moment of intimacy. ‘My Word!’ I thought, ‘He's going all the way.’

‘My Word!’ I thought, ‘He's going all the way.’

Unhurredly, Mark's head moved forward to engulf the rod deeper and deeper into his wide open mouth until it could move no further down his throat. Then slowly he moved it back as the hard thick member saw the light of day again, only immediately to disappear back into my fiancée's mouth again. Again, less ponderously, Mark took Gregg's cock down into his throat and then out as he picked up the pace of his homage to the better man; within less than a minute his head was moving backwards and forwards as he gave my Lover as good as a pleasurable fellatio as he had ever received from me, Terri, or Rodrigo – probably!

Gregg was not unmoved by Mark's adoration of his manhood, so with gentle pressure he applied his large hands to the back of Mark's head in order to guide him and keep up the rhythm. Nevertheless, gradually he slowed Mark's head bobbing, and started to move his hips backwards and forwards in time. The adoring had become the invaded – Gregg was using my fiancée's mouth, tongue, and throat as a vagina; and I had the distinct impression that Mark was enjoying being used in this way.

When Gregg moaned even louder I knew that his beautiful big manhood was erupting. His seed was flooding from his large testicles through his pulsating penis into Mark's throat, out of the corners of his mouth to ooze slowly down his chest, and to form little puddles of semen on his penis cage.

Once, twice, and three times more he thrust his big fleshy cock as far as it could go into the accommodating mouth below him, and each time Mark swallowed as hard as he could, but more and more gathered in sticky white patches on his chest, stomachs, pubic hairs, and cage.

“Did I hurt you?” I heard Gregg ask, as his member finally slid from Mark's mouth.

“No .... Master,” came his stuttered reply – still trying to consume the last of the salty cream from my Lover's body.

“Your first time?”

“Yes Master!”

“Your last?”

“No Master!”

“You're sure?”

Mark took a second to collect his thoughts and then repeated those same words that would always define our marriage.

“I'm sure,” he replied. “I have committed to serve you both. And that is what I shall do – always!”

I had been Gregg's secretary, mistress, lay – call it what you will – for months, and just days before that weekend we had driven to Vancouver one glorious afternoon for shopping and a night in the Fairmont Hotel. Our purchases had included a beautiful silk wrap for me, some top quality lingerie that set off my curves in their finest light, plus a selection of dresses and working suits that confirmed my status as Gregg's ‘Very, Very Personal Assistant'. The night we enjoyed in the Fairmont was pretty beautiful too, especially when he gave me his own ring to wear.

“I already wear Mark's engagement ring Gregg,” I had said to him.

“I know! I can see!” he replied as he slipped the thin band down next to Mark's small stone and gold ring, “but you belong to me now, and your fiancée already knows it - doesn't he?”

“He does!” I had confirmed.

“Then he will understand the symbolism.”

Mark did understand. Even before that first night the three of us had been together, he knew that I was fully committed to Gregg – and that I was far more than a dalliance to him. And that little ring cemented our relationship of Master, Mistress and cuckold.

Gregg and I sat together, in our silk wraps, in his small but luxurious kitchen as we waited for Gregg to clean up after his pleasuring of my fiancée's manhood in the shower. We had nearly finished our coffee before Mark appeared, still naked and caged, and sat down on a bar stool close my own and opposite Gregg.

None of us spoke immediately until Gregg, looking directly at Mark, said, “You know you are sitting in my kitchen without any clothes on.”

“Sorry Master, I just thought it appropriate,” he replied, a little shamefaced.

“What about your own clothes?”

“Not appropriate either – I thought.”

Gregg looked pensive for a moment, then he gazed for a while at Mark before saying, “I've mentioned Rodrigo before - haven't I?”

We both nodded in unison before he continued, “Rodrigo used to like to ‘fem up’ a little from time to time.”

It took me a moment to understand what he meant, but Mark was way ahead of me.

“I can do that Master, but I don't know how to go about it.”

“And would you wear a collar too?”

“Of course I would. I'm a cuckold, and I wear whatever my Master and Mistress require of me.”

Suddenly, Mark’s unmanning had taken on a totally new dynamic. Although he had tried to sound unemotional or obsequious even, the look on his face, as he had replied, had been one of eagerness and anticipation. And Gregg had picked up on this emotional confliction immediately.

“Mark! Why don't you go and find some of the lingerie I bought for Mary and put something on – your choice. Second drawer down in the bedroom dressing table. You might feel more comfortable,” he suggested to a wide-eyed Mark.

Within a minute my future husband was back in the kitchen wearing a pair of my see-through white panties. And they suited him or, more to the point, he suited them.

... or, more to the point, he suited them.

“The collar will have to wait,” Gregg commented as the three of us continued our breakfast.

That weekend will stay in my memory forever. It was the seminal moment in our lives that would define our future marriage and we all knew it. And I was a very happy young Woman who had everything she needed in her life.

Tuesday evening saw Mark, Gregg and I standing  at the door of Reverend Galbraith's house. With a nod from Gregg, I banged on the brass knocker and we waited for an answer.