Chapter One - Scott
What do you see when you look at my wedding picture? Am I a bride glowing with love and expectation of a happy life ahead with her new husband? A shy young woman who has just made the deepest commitment of her life, looking at the beautiful gold ring that now binds her to the man she loves? If you had those thoughts in mind you would be right -- but not in the way that you think. You see, my name is Mary and I have a tale to tell about my life, my loves, my wedding day, and beyond.
As a young girl, Mark (my boyfriend) and I had grown very used to each other as we had both attended the same Primary, and then High Schools. We were inseparable as a teenage couple, and were known to everyone, kids and grownups, as 'M&M' or 'Mark and Mary'. Mark was a responsible teenager but I, on the other hand, had been sampling the pleasures of coitus with older (mostly married) men for months before the question of real sex between us entered into our young heads; however when I say our heads, what I really mean is MY head.
At a teenager, I had blossomed early into a pretty young woman with normal sexual desires that I was having increasing difficulty in suppressing. My Mother -- as Mothers do -- knew exactly why I was so often out late and arranged to put me on birth control pills; just as well really, given the number of men who enjoyed my soft and willing pleasures.
"If you're going to do it, make sure you are protected," she said to me as we drove home together from the doctors. She was very caring that way.
It was always going to be Mark who would be my future husband, even though he knew that I dated other men, so at the age of nineteen I decided that we should have sex. It was tender and short lived in the back seat of his father's SUV while in darkness at the far end of a large superstore parking lot. A week later we did it again (same place, same SUV) whereupon it became a regular, but brief, affectionate few minutes between us. I loved Mark, and still do, but even in those early years I knew that he would never be the dynamic heart-throb of a young girls dreams. He was steady, loyal, faithful, and was perfect husband material, so when he got down on his knees one night I said yes and we begun our long engagement, after having agreed that we should wait until we were fully certain.
Mark and I had maintained contact with our friends in the small town where we lived and enjoyed a good social life where there were parties at each others' houses, meet-ups at the local bars, and social interaction at the various sports clubs. I, played in the local Women's Lacrosse team whereas Mark played Soccer. Sometimes the parties could become a little 'exuberant' and it wasn't unusual for some of our friends to become drunk, amorous, aggressive, or all three and at the same time; but mostly they were happy events that made the long winter evenings in Canada all the more tolerable.
Mark and I were very much a part of this happy group and it was not unusual for me to be standing in a party of intimate friends of both sexes, drinking, chatting, laughing, and even flirting a little with each other. Mark, on the other hand, became more and more retired from my gregarious friends and preferred to sit with the quieter 'hangers on' group. And amid all of my 'gregarious' friends was a boy called Scott.
Although I loved Mark, I was flattered that Scott was attracted to me and always made it his business to be close to me in the bar or whatever party we attended. Others in the group could see what was happening but, instead of warning him off from pursuing me, they encouraged him. Subsequently Scott made his first move on me one night in one of the bars we had made one of our regular watering holes.
I had worn high heels that night and, with one or two drinks inside me, being slightly unsteady on my feet I stumbled sideways into Scott's waiting (and very willing) arms. He held me close to him and maintained his grip on my waist even though we both knew that I could stand on my own. Everybody knew in that bar that night that the dynamics of my relationship with Mark had changed. I also knew that my fiancée, sitting in the rear of the bar, could see Scott's arm around my waist and his left hand resting casually on my round bottom, but he did nothing. In the mirror to the rear of the barman, I could see that his face was blank, with unmoving expressionless wide eyes that belied the slight tremor in his hands. So I put my own arm around Scott's waist and pressed closer to him.
Mark said nothing as we drove away from bar and I thought it wise not to speak of the what and the why I had cosied up to Scott. Nevertheless we made love that night but, unusually, only after he had lifted my skirt up and buried his tongue into my sticky wet pussy. It was just moments before I climaxed violently against his sweet handsome face, but it was Scott's that I saw in my imagination.
All week, as I sat at my desk typing up reports for my Boss, Mr Wakefield, I thought of little else but Scott. It wasn't as if I liked him that much. He was kind of brash and loud, but he was handsome, well dressed, always smelled fresh and clean - he was sex on legs. And he had made it clear that he thought I was too.
Friday night was party night at my best friend Jenny's house. Her parents (mad fools) had caught the train to Vancouver to stay overnight so us teenagers had the place to ourselves. Being eighteen (just), I loved to dance and as usual it was us girls who gyrated to some music (Oasis) in the middle of the floor of the living room while the boys looked on and drank beer -- Mark and Scott included.
As the dance wore on, more and more boys joined their Girlfriends and I was almost the last one dancing alone when I felt a touch on my shoulder. It wasn't Mark -- it was Scott who wanted to join me on the floor. I feigned surprise but I was glad it was him because Mark is a terrible dancer and, well, because it was Scott.
As we circled I swept the room with my eyes searching for Mark only to see him sitting in one of the chairs holding a beer with that same dead look on his face. Once again, he said nothing and did nothing to stop Scott moving in on me, which he did with some skill and charm; so I was relaxed and happy when he reached out and pulled be gently but insistently into his arms as Jenny put on a slow sound track and lowered the lights.
I had a choice between pushing him away and making light of his audacity or I could wrap my arms around his neck and press my body hard against his. I gazed over at Mark, looked directly into his eyes searching for a response from him and saw none, so I chose to mould my breasts and hips into Scott's muscular chest and burgeoning groin.
Mark conversed with nobody that evening. He just sat and watched as Scott and I moved together as one in that dimly lit room, and neither did his expression change when Scott stroked and cupped my round bottom with his wandering hands. It might have been my imagination, but when I tilted my head back for Scott to plant his soft lips on my own, Mark shifted in his seat to rearrange his pants. And that was the moment that I realised that my fiancée -- the man who I would one day marry -- accepted my dalliances with Scott. And the little protrusion from his groin meant something else was going on behind those soft brown eyes of his.
"Shall we go somewhere private," Scott said breathlessly into my ear after we had regained our composure.
"Okay," I replied, "but not for too long. I don't want to upset Mark."
Scott smiled but made no comment as he led me out of the house down the nearby alley and to a place where it was dark and secluded.
"And I don't want to go all the way Scott," I said, suddenly fearful that he was expecting me to have a full sexual encounter with him.
"That's okay Mary," he replied, as he opened my blouse to reveal my bra and big breasts, "I have a fiancée too. But we can have some innocent fun can't we?
Scott was as good as his word. We kissed, fondled, and found each other's most intimate parts with exploring hands and fingers, but not once did he suggest full penetration. Not even as I stroked his hard and thick member or when I was breathing heavily and moaning with pleasure as his middle finger found the 'G Spot' in my vagina and went to work with dedication and enthusiasm.
I was happily holding Scott's head against my left breast as he sucked delightfully on my nipple, when I saw something move in the dark, close to a nearby woodpile less than twenty feet away from where we two young animals were exploring each other's bodies. Instinctively I knew who it was and just moaned a little louder at Scott's intimate fondling, kissing, and fingering. 'Enjoy looking at your future wife,' I thought to myself. And with that thought I realised that my prospective husband had appetites that I did not fully understand.
We were at our usual parking spot and Mark had already kissed me, when he pulled his head away and asked the question that would change our lives forever. He knew that his question was going to disrupt our comfortable little relationship, so when his voice trembled I knew that my fiancée was tense and dreaded what could have been my answer.
"Do you like Scott?" he asked.
"Yes!" was my honest reply. "He's fun!"
"Has...... he?......" he stuttered, but couldn't finish the sentence.
