Chapter Two - Gregg
Two weeks after my lovely night with Scott, Miriam and her family moved back into town, so the 'Happy Trio' were no more. I was now solely Mark's fiancée again, and to rub salt into the wound, Miriam and Scott walked down the aisle and immediately went into baby production with great enthusiasm. But one can never tell just how affairs of the heart will develop and evolve.
As his PA, it was often my responsibility to accompany Gregg on his trips throughout Canada, the United States, and Europe and, needless to say as a young woman, I loved every minute of it. Although I said nothing to anybody, my 'adoration' for him had become a passion; I was in love with him and, although Mark said nothing, I could tell that he knew. The only trouble was that Gregg was married, but the upside was that she lived the other side of the country and they lived separate lives.
I was careful to never make my feelings known to him and ours was a mutually friendly and business-like relationship until it ended one night in the Elgin Hotel in Ottawa. And it was all due to a faulty hair dryer.
Our business had finished early, so upon the return to the hotel we had both been for a swim in the hotel's pool. It was the first time I had seen him without a suit and I was immediately struck by his physique; he was not overly muscular like one of the body-builders I had seen in the gymnasium but everything about his body and handsome face was beautiful, well proportioned and strong. However there was one bodily dimension that exceeded all expectations, and that was the pronounced bulge in his swimming shorts.
As was customary, Gregg and I went to our separate rooms to prepare for dinner so, because my hair was a damp mess from my swim, I tried to use the hair dryer -- and as fate would have it -- It failed to work. A quick phone call and a plea for help found me ten minutes later in Gregg's bathroom drying my straggled mop. So far, so innocent! That is until Gregg invited me to join him in the shower.
I had gasped in amazement when he had shuffled past me in the bathroom, dropped his robe onto the floor and stepped naked into the cubicle. As one can imagine, given my attraction to him, I was so amazed that I just couldn't stop staring at his manly body and the long, thick roll of flesh that dangled loosely from his crotch to halfway down his thigh.
"Care to join me Mary?" he asked as the warm jets of water cascaded down his muscular body.
We didn't go to dinner that night and my hair did not receive the treatment it needed until the following morning. Instead, the man I had fallen in love with powered his large, hard manhood deep into my body again and again throughout that long and blissful night of love. With supreme skill and stamina he took control of my body and emotions as he converted me from his young Personal Assistant to his happy and very obliging Mistress. By the first soft morning light we both knew that Gregg had taken control of me by the route taken between my open legs - I was his and we both knew it.
"How are you Mary? Any regrets?" he asked as we lay naked together after a particularly energetic session.
"None at all Gregg," I replied, as I fondled his now flaccid member, "but I have to ring Mark to tell him about us."
Raising himself on one elbow, he leaned over me and asked, "Really? You're going to tell your fiancée about us?"
"Of course! We have an agreement that I should tell him if I have been unfaithful."
"And have you? Before tonight?"
"Yes!" I replied, regretting it immediately, because I didn't want Gregg to think I was a slut. "I was quite young though."
What he said to me next proved to be an education in its own right. "So he's one of those guys is he?"
I had lowered my head down to obtain a better look at his large pink cock with its purple head; in my mind it was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen in the world but I stopped in response to his question. "What guys?" I asked, now distracted by its combination of softness and power.
"Is Mark a cuckold?"
"I suppose so! Yes!" I replied, still distracted as I felt an urge to get closer to his manliness.
"So I guess we should discuss this with him shouldn't we?"
"Mmm! Maybe.... later," I replied as my lips gently touched the crown of his organ for the first time. It was not something I had ever done for Mark or even Scott, but for Gregg it seemed so natural to show my new Lover that I was happy to please him in that way. And I knew that he was pleased because his hand caressed the back of my head and pushed my face gently down onto his big fleshy cock.
"I've never done this before," I muttered between little kisses and licks up and down his now hardening shaft.
"You're doing fine Mary," he said in response. "The secret is no teeth allowed."
I giggled! He laughed! And I took his manhood into my mouth. It was the moment that we both knew that I was not going to be a delicate flower of a Girlfriend, but a sensuous hungry Mistress who was prepared to do whatever it took to pleasure her man.
I was a novice at fellatio but I worked that soft skinned rod in as enthusiastic way that I possibly could and my (our) reward was a large vertical pole and a happy Lover. Smiling, he lifted me with his strong arms up to his face, kissed me, and then helped me position myself astride his cock. Slowly I lowered myself down until my vagina was full and stretched; it felt heavenly to not only feel him inside me, but to see the look of desire and appreciation in his eyes as he gazed at my naked breasts bouncing in time to my own gyrations.
Later, as my series of orgasms coursed through my body and I had collapsed onto Gregg after he had spurted his manly cream into me, he whispered into my ear, "I need to know more about Mark."
The flight time from Ottawa back to Vancouver was about five hours so I had plenty of time to tell Gregg about my sexual explorations with Scott and Mark's passive acceptance of another man having his fiancée. It was true that Mark had graduated from voyeur to active participant and, although we had never discussed his cuckold inclinations, it was him who at the later stages of my relationship with Scott had found the bedrooms where we could make love. Additionally, his inclinations had progressed so far that he suggested to me on the last night that Scott and I were together that I should go without panties. I had done just that, and Scott ravished me that night like a wild beast -- It was a wonderful night; for all of us.
Gregg looked both pleased and thoughtful at this recounting of my somewhat former unusual sex life and, although I was nervous that he might think me loose, nevertheless he held my hand all the way across Canada. Although he let me do all the talking, he did finally say that he understood just why I would behave in that way. "Clearly, your Mark is a cuckold. Just as I had guessed," he commented -- still holding my hand.
"Well, there's no one quite like Mark," I responded -- a little flippantly.
"He's not so exceptional as you think Mary. There are many such men like him. Far more than society would like to admit. Husbands, boyfriends, and even fiancées who know their limitations and accept the humiliation of other men doing what they cannot."
I couldn't answer, or make any perceptive comment because this was something that only an older and more experienced man would know; so my 'insightful' response was to mutter, "Really?"
Gregg was twenty years older than I, which was something I had been very aware of that night when I had shrugged off the hotel's gown, dropped my panties to the floor, and stepped naked into his shower for the first time. Little did I know it then, but the action of removing my underwear for him was to be a large part of my life for the next twenty three years -- as his Mistress. But he knew a thing or two about life, love, and relationships even then.
Upon our return to work that afternoon I rang Mark who came to pick me up, as had been our routine since I had started as Gregg's PA. "We need to talk," I had told him on the phone; the look on his face told me that he had already guessed just what it was I wanted to tell him.
"Is it Gregg?" he asked as we pulled away from my place of work.
It was not a moment for half-truths or reticence. Mark deserved my honesty and a full explanation of the why, what, and when of my infidelity; and that is what he heard from me on our journey back to my parent's house.
"I'm sorry Mark, but I have been a little in love with him for a while now," I said, wanting to put a background to the 'why'.
