Duty Demands

I instructed him that we should hold hands and we entered the hall to applause from both families. Again tradition played a major part, with us taking seats and members of the family approaching with good wishes and gifts in envelopes -- usually cash but sometimes vouchers for travel or gifts additional to the mountain of wedding presents near the door.

I had my mother making notes so I could place everything. I also had gifts for the bridesmaids. Aldo was impressed with my organisation.

We took our seats a dinner. Aldo pulled out my chair and helped to get the folds of my dress organised. He was trying. I whispered: "Thank you."

After the meal my father rose to speak. He thanked everybody and after finishing such formal matters he moved to the essential part: "I now address my greater family, because today, as happened when Luigi and Maria were married (God rest their souls) two great families are again united by marriage. A new generation with blood in common will rise. That generation we commend to you Aldo, my new son in law, and to you Diana, my daughter. Diana my new daughter. Perhaps a surprise for all of you who know the circumstances. Perhaps most of all to you Aldo. You may now begin to understand the most beautiful, talented and loyal of my entire family. You are lucky indeed...". And with that he toasted the bride and groom.

Aldo reached out and took my hand. "I'll try not to disappoint you," he said. I kissed him on the cheek. It was an impulsive thing, but impulse seemed to be driving more of what I did these days.

After dinner we danced closely, and we talked a little, but there were so many guests that we had not much time to get to know one another, which is really what we needed to do. We were not alone until we got to the bridal suite in the hotel.

We had one night before we would be moving into the house that Luigi and Maria had called home. What were we supposed to do?

I asked him to help me out of my dress. When it slid to the floor I was wearing an expensive silk slip, and underneath match apricot bra and panties. I sat down at the dressing table with my back to him. He sat on the bed staring at the ceiling.

After some effort I said: "Can I ask you one more favour? I have about a million pins in this hairdo. Can I ask you to help me get them all out?"

He came over and helped me. As the pile of pins grew we both laughed a little. I handed him my hairbrush. He took and brushed just a few strokes. He looked at me in the mirror.

"You make a beautiful woman," he said. "I have to say that I cannot remember you before. I was not expecting this. I was expecting to be ... I was expecting it to be difficult to be intimate with you, knowing that you are ... that you have not always been a woman."

I felt angry. I stood up close to him. "Then try to understand my position. I was a normal heterosexual guy. You are expected to have sex with somebody who you say looks like a beautiful woman. I am expected to have sex with a man, who looks like a man. I have never even thought about that before. I have never even touched another man's penis ...".

And with that I undid his belt and let his pants fall, and I thrust my hand down his boxer shorts and took his penis in my hand. It was in anger. It was to say: "If I can do this, why can't you".

There was a time when I held a penis every day -- my own. But this was different. The heat from it seemed incredible. I knew that it was already swollen, so something was going on. And it was growing in my hand. He was looking into my angry eyes. There was something about the look that he was giving me. I had never seen a look like it. That look. His penis. He clasped my shoulders firmly. He kissed me. On the lips, no on the mouth, in the mouth. It was passionate. I felt a little faint. The penis grew. His tongue curled around mine. The heat built.

He reached down and pulled up my slip. I unhooked my bra with one hand and let my breasts jiggle free. I kept my other hand on his penis, now as hard as iron. Could I take this thing inside me? Had the surgeon made me large enough?

I held on while he took off his shirt, but I was forced to let go as he swept me off the floor and into his arms, carrying me to the bed as if I was a light as air.

"Wait a minute," I said. I turned my back to him while I slipped the lubricated stent that had been inserted all afternoon. I was warm and wet. I just threw it on the floor and kicked it under the bed. Suddenly I was in a hurry. It was as if somebody else, or something, had taken control of me.

He rolled me over and ran his hands up and down my body. Every inch of me seemed to be so sensitive. It was as if I could feel the ridges of his fingerprints. I found that my back was arching and I was moaning. How could this be? I had just told him how hard this must be, but all I wanted was him inside me. I was not going to need to take Bea's advice and think of pleasant things. There was not a thought in my head. Just a hunger.

So he obliged. He gently opened my legs and fondled my clitoris. The surgeons had done well, preserving the nerves and allowing a nub to remain, now swollen with desire. He could feel the moisture and he knew I was ripe. I was going crazy with desire.

His penis touched my inner lips and began its entry. Slowly, so that I felt I could count the inches disappearing into my passage. Had I just counted past ten? How far could it go? Then his hips slapped against me. He withdrew slowly, and then back. And again. Picking up pace. My eyes opened and the ceiling above me seemed peppered with stars. I could see his face. His eyes closed. His mouth open.

"Oh Aldo," I said. Stroking his cheek and firm chin, now roughened by a little stubble. I liked the feeling. Here was a man. A real man. And I was a woman. A real woman.

He opened his eyes and looked into my face. He smiled, without breaking his rhythm. It seemed to me that it was a warm smile, perhaps a loving smile.

Then I started to feel an orgasm swelling in me. I whispered: "Yes, yes ...".

We came together. It was magnificent. Then I could feel his semen fill me like hot butter. He gasped again. His penis came out with a satisfying plop. He fell on his back by my side.

"I am not sure if it was just because of you," I said. "But that was the best sex I have ever had." And it was true. Maybe I had just not had enough. Maybe I had just not been man enough. Maybe I needed to enjoy my sex as a taker rather than a giver. That was my lot from now on, and now I was happy with that thought. Or maybe it was him? Maybe he was just the best lover in the world?

He did not say anything. He kissed my nipples and then he kissed me gently on the lips with his hand in my hair.

"I promised not to disappoint you," he said. "I hope I haven't"

I curled up beside him and went to sleep.

When we woke in the morning we had sex again. I suppose I wondered whether the orgasm would match the night before, but it seemed even better. Could I look forward to a married life where every time we had sex was better than the last? Could a life be that perfect?

I lay in his arms after that, toying with the hairs on his chest, wondering how it could be that I could go so quickly from a women-loving man, to a man-loving woman.

"I have a confession to make," he said. I just kept on stroking his chest hair. "I have a mistress." He paused. "I had thought to go back to her, after the wedding and everything. But I don't think I can now. I mean, I know that I can't now."

I rolled on top of him. The hairs on my pussy ground down on his now spent penis. My breasts jiggled dangerously close to his face. I felt desirable and desired. I felt that no woman should compete with me, or even could compete. I wanted him to know that.

"I told you yesterday that I want us to be together," I said. "I said I wanted to be a family with the children in our care. Not just a family, but a loving family. I wasn't sure that was possible until last night. Now I know it is. But it will take both of us."

"I just can't believe how good you look in the morning," he said, breaking my serious words.

"I mean it Aldo. I want these kids brought up away from the wider family. I don't want them to be gangsters. I want us to be parents who can show them a future without that. I want us to be an example to them that people can enjoy a happy and fulfilling life with simple pleasures." And then I added with a smile: "So when are you next going to deliver me one of those simple pleasures."

He laughed. It was a deep and rich laugh. It was a laugh that I decided I needed to hear each and every day.

Then he said: "I agree. They are good kids. We need to give them a chance at a better life. We should keep them away from the family business as best we can."

So what about your mistress?" I asked.

"Well she was pissed that I got married. I told her it was an arranged marriage, but it meant that I couldn't marry her."

"You haven't answered my question."

He pulled me down and rolled me over. He kissed me deeply, so deeply I felt overcome with emotion.

He said: "She's gone. And I am happy she has. You see, my head has been turned to another. If you haven't realised it before now, in the hours since I first saw you in the church yesterday, I have fallen in love with you. I am in love with you, Mrs Diana Cambero."

The End

© Maryanne Peters 2023