The weeks that followed were the happiest that, until then, I had ever known. Gregg and I continued our love affair by working hard in the morning at work and going back to his apartment in the afternoon. We travelled too -- a mid-week business meeting in Seattle and a delightful three days in Rome where the Italian passion seemed to rub off on my Lover. I shall always remember Gregg's intense ardour, matched by my own, on our visit to the Eternal City; he was rampant and slid his lovely big cock into me again and again -- taking me in every way shown in the Kama Sutra. 'Rampant Rome' is now seared into my mind as one of the most wonderful times of my life -- they tell me that the city is quite nice too.
At each return, Mark would be there waiting for us, ready to serve his Mistress and Master; eager to join us in our bedroom as little by little we cemented our loving three cornered bonding. Even then, I looked for the slightest hint of a lessening of enthusiasm for his submission, but I saw none; and when asked, Gregg found none either -- if anything, his devotion to us both showed an even greater zealousness in those lovely nights when he attended to Gregg's enjoyment of his fiancée. In this happy time, his tongue cleaned me, and the head of my Lover's member passed his lips and down his throat many times, and much did his tiny penis swell inside its little cage.
Mom was as good as her word, and had made all the arrangements for the wedding. Flowers for the church, the venue for the Reception, catering, transport, invitations, and even accommodation for guests etc.; and then there was the dress. It was a picture of white silk that shimmered in the light, while at the same time offering a discrete view of the upper cleavage of my breasts that my husband would only enjoy in a very limited way, but Gregg would whenever he wanted -- because they belonged to him.
The fitting of the dress was a purely female affair with me standing on a low stool while Mom and Jenny pulled the dress about, put pins into the material, pulled pins out again, told me to turn through 180 degrees with yet more pins clamped between their teeth. It was lovely that Jenny had returned back into my life, those wild parties at her parents house were still happy memories for me. Jenny had married the year before to her long-time Boyfriend, Eric, but was now enjoying a passionate relationship with a tall, beautiful, and, according to her, well-hung Ethiopian refugee. From our conversations it appeared that Mark and Eric had a lot in common, and that Gregg had been right all along; cuckolding of husbands was far more common in our town than would be admitted in polite society. Maybe it is everywhere?
The morning of the wedding was a bright sunny day and I had stayed at my Mother's house overnight. I had risen early and, before eating a good breakfast, had rung Gregg to make sure that the arrangement we had made was still on. "I shall collect from your Mother's at twelve sharp and bring you to my apartment," he said, "that will give us two hours to finish dressing you and get you to the church."
"And?" Was my response.
He laughed happily before he replied. "We give our friend what he wants."
"You are incorrigible!"
Gregg laughed again and rung off.
In the interests of decency, I had an old coat on over my white wedding lingerie as I climbed into Gregg's Maserati. With the dress wrapped in pink tissue paper on the very small rear seat of the vehicle, we drove from my Mother's house past the recently purchased new house where Mark and I would live together by the lakeside, and stopped outside my Lover's apartment.
"Nervous?" Gregg asked me, as I spread the lustrous white garment carefully on the bed.
I knew that there were many ways this important day in my and Mark's lives could 'go south' but I knew that Mark wanted this new life as much as I. Finally I understood what made my 'husband to be' tick and my answer was an honest response to the question billions of brides had been asked since the very first wedding -- ever.
"No! -You?"
"A little."
This was a surprise to me and I felt touched that the other man I loved so passionately should suddenly feel anxious; but I couldn't help having just a little fun at his expense.
"What? Are you telling me that my big strong Lover has got the jitters?" I said as I wrapped my arms around his neck and pressed my breasts, encased in a pretty white Basque, against his chest.
His lips were on my own almost immediately with a long and lingering kiss of gentleness and tenderness. With the coat I had been wearing in his car now hanging on a nearby hook I was in my thin and delicate underwear as his lips moved down to my neck to kiss me just below my left ear - one of my erogenous zones. Again, as always, I was putty in his hands as the top two hooks of the Basque were unclipped thus allowing my breasts to poke out like two eager little puppies from the top. And he wasted no time in fastening his mouth on my left nipple while kneading my right breast with his strong manly hands.
Already, I was a trembling wreck with all sense of time and modesty gone. I wanted Gregg's big hard rod inside me so I was barely conscious of falling back on his big bed alongside my wedding dress. He was still kissing my breasts as, with one hand, he roughly pulled the crotch of my panties aside to slide his finger along my slit. I knew it was me who unzipped his pants and released his hardening member but I couldn't remember doing so afterwards. But then my wish came true as he positioned himself between my legs and slid his beautiful big cock inside me -- right up to the hilt.
He played me like I was a Stradivarius. A master at his craft like the finest violinist he brought the very best out of me - with each stroke I gave myself further and further to his pleasure. My legs could not have been wider for him, my lips could not have been softer and yielding to his mastery, my breasts could not have bounced more enchantingly, and his big manhood that ploughed my Womanly tunnel could not have been more welcome inside me. I was very much his pretty young Mistress on that bed, and he was very much my Master; and we both knew the purpose of our loving that wonderful afternoon, while across the other side of town, as he made himself ready to become my husband, Mark did too.
Like the accomplished Lover he was, Gregg took us to a place just below the heights of final orgasm for us both, only to draw back from the ecstatic finish and then drive us both forward again to completion. Four, maybe five times (maybe more), he took us to the edge, only to retreat back to a comfortable rhythm that had me mewling, gasping, and groaning in sexual fervour. My mind had gone -- all I could see above me was Gregg's dear face - handsome but concentrated on making me the happiest bride in the whole of Canada.
Finally the moment approached to complete our physical and emotional bonding. It was clear that Gregg's sexual brinkmanship was nearing its end and the release of his seed into my body was imminent. Harder thrusting from his hips with increasing speed and length of the penetration of his cock into my enveloping vagina was driving me to an orgasm of fierceness that had me screaming for release in words that would make a dockworker blush.
"Come!..... Come!..... Come in me my Love," I shouted into his ear. "All of it! Fill me!"
And fill me he did. His lovely, long, and thick pole jumped and kicked inside me as a long drawn out groan emanated from deep within Gregg's chest. Each spasm of his manhood spurted stream after stream of semen into me causing me to pass out momentarily because of intense euphoric physical and emotional feelings. And then Gregg collapsed on top of me.
"My God, that was wonderful. You're wonderful!" He managed to say in my ear after he had caught his breath.
"I love you," I said in response.
We stayed locked together in that lovely post coital tranquillity that is always the reward for good and active sex, that is until I looked at the alarm clock by the bed.
Gregg rolled off me and I leaped from the bed to make my way to the dressing table to fix my hair, reapply my makeup, and put on a pair of more substantial panties than those Gregg had ripped to one side as he had entered me.
He was already dressed and looking smart by the time I had rebuilt my appearance and slid into my wedding dress that, miraculously, had escaped our thrashing and bumping on the bed.
I turned my back to Gregg, who then slid the zipper up and secured the little clasp. He turned me around, kissed me on the cheek, told me he loved me, and we made our way down the stairs of his apartment block to the waiting Rolls Royce. We sat together in silence and I was touched that Gregg was playing the part of the 'male benefactor' - he even asked me if I wanted to change my mind.
"No way!" I responded -- laughing, "I couldn't do that to my Mark."
We were fashionably late at the church, but only by two minutes. As Gregg and I walked up the aisle to where Mark stood waiting I saw my family, friends, and some of my closer work colleagues. Jenny was there, with Eric to one side of her, and her tall Ethiopian the other; even in that fleeting moment of view I could tell that my old friend was 'accompanied' by her husband, but by her body language it was obvious to all that she was 'with' her Black Lover in every way.
