My Cuckold Wedding Ch. 06

Mark looked at me and smiled as I arrived at the altar beside him. He raised his eyebrows in question and I nodded slightly in response; he knew that I had come to him from Gregg's bed and his seed was still in my body. Mark's face grew red, and we turned to face the Reverend Galbraith. Martin's smile was welcoming and friendly, with a hint of complicity in his kind intelligent eyes, Suzanne's smile, on the other hand, was contented as she turned the music sheets for Ramone who played the organ -- no doubt that Ramone had been gentle with her, now that his seed had started to grow inside her -- their love for each other was like a golden glow that surrounded them.

It seems so trivial now, but as I looked up at this kind churchman who was going to conduct the most important moment of my life, I suddenly felt the floor beneath me move. 'What if Mark has been playing Gregg and me along?' I thought, feeling a cold sweat run down my spine. 'What if he was to denounce me as a cruel and heartless cheating fiancée in front of my family, friends, work colleagues, and Gregg. Surely, he wouldn't do that. Not my lovely Mark.'

My head was swimming with the occasion and those terrible worrisome thoughts, so I barely heard the address by Martin and the vows being read, or the question of Mark being asked by Martin. All I heard was Mark say those two little words that bind a Man to a Woman -- "I do!"

After the service Gregg confirmed that the 'forsaking all others' part of the vow had been retained for Mark, but at that moment I didn't care. All I knew was that Mark had committed himself to me and our new life together, and I loved him for it.

I knew that I was smiling with relief (everybody in the congregation except Mark, Gregg, and Mom thought it to be radiant happiness) as Martin spoke the amended vow to me. He, as promised, had excluded the vow of faithfulness and as he did so he maintained a watchful eye on my fiancée to make sure that he was understanding the implications of his words. Mark, effectively, had vowed to be a faithful husband whereas I would be affirming that I would be his Wife, but free to find love outside of my marriage.

I let Martin say the words, "Do you Mary *****, take Mark... (etc.)..."

"I do!"

Mark's brother (Jeremy) had the small delicate ring and passed it Mark who, looking down at my hand, took in the sight of Gregg's missing ring. His brow furrowed as he looked at me questioningly, he had expected to see my Lover's ring on my marriage finger, but it wasn't there -- I smiled back at him, giving nothing away. His wedding ring was a thick gold band that I slid onto his own finger.

That was it. We were a couple, and I was now a married Woman -- married to my cuckold fiancée Mark who within just a few hours I would transition to a cuckolded husband. But not yet awhile, because we had further business to conclude.

"I now declare you to be husband and Wife," Martin said to us both, and loud enough for the congregation to hear. Then quietly he indicated us to move to the Registry behind the altar.

Martin, who had been 'all business' as he had recited the marriage address and vows in front of us and the congregation was now the friendly happy man who we had learned to like immensely as he brought us into the small formal office where the administration is carried out.

"If you would care to sign the open register as witnesses please? Your names are already in the columns," he said to Gregg and Jeremy. "And then we can address the next matter on our agenda."

Although Jeremy had been told of our three cornered relationship, he would not be included in the next ceremony, he therefore smiled, shook Mark and Gregg's hand, kissed me on the cheek, and then left the Registry.

Martin, still with his vestments on, reached for a thick pamphlet from the nearby book shelf and asked us to stand before him -- with me in the, middle.

"My Dear and lovely new friends," he said, "you will recall our talk just a few weeks ago. Please recall that our Church does not recognize the Polyamorous relationship in law, but are sympathetic to that arrangement should the local clergy consider the love of all three, or more, to be genuine. As I have some experience of such a relationship, I was, and still are, convinced that you truly care for each other. So we shall continue with the loving dedication."

I reached out to hold the hand of my new husband and my Lover as Martin continued while referring to the printed sheet in his hand.

"We are here today to celebrate the love that Gregg, Mary, and Mark have for each other, and to recognize their decision to journey forward in their lives together. While you are separate individuals, you walk along one path together. Your every gesture, word, expression, and action, and those you withhold or omit, will determine the quality of your experience together. It is through loving, kindness, caring, and sharing that a successful bond is created. A good relationship takes patience, dedication, humour, and forgiveness. You keep your love alive through the choices you make moment by moment, day after day, and year after year. Through practice, you learn how to love yourselves and each other with devotion and freedom."

The three of us were struck breathless by the beauty and formality of the words. Although non-religious they felt equal to that solemn undertaking Mark and I had just made in front of the altar, but Martin wasn't finished.

Turning to Gregg, he said "Gregg, do you take Mary and Mark to be your lifelong partners, to cherish them always, to honour and sustain them, in sickness and in health, in poverty and in wealth, until death alone shall part you?"

It was clear to me that Gregg had been ready for the question, and his response was immediate. "I do," he said confidently.

The same words were repeated to Mark who also seemed ready for the question, and his "I do!" was as assured as Gregg's had been.

"Now Mary," he said, smiling over his glasses to look into my eyes that were now vet wet with emotion, "do you take...."

"I do!"

All three men in that room laughed at my interruption of the polyamorous vow, but Martin was kind in his response. "I need to finish Mary, and then you can respond."

"Sorry!"

"That's alright Mary. Now let's start again."

He said the words and I replied, "I do!" And my men and I were now a..... what?

A Triple? -- No!

A Trio? -- No!

A Threesome? -- Erh, probably not!

A Throuple? -- Definitely not!

"So what are we now Martin?" I asked.

Our intelligent and kindly Reverend knew exactly what I was asking and said, "Don't bother with 'Trio' or any other such clumsy definitions Mary. But how does 'Our loving family' sound?"

"Perfect!" we all exclaimed in unison.

The Reverend put hands together as if in prayer and, turning to Mark, said, "Now for your declaration Mark."

Mark nodded.

"For the last time young man, I am going to ask you if this life of a subordinate and chaste husband is the one you desire. Like marriage itself, it is not a life that should be entered lightly and requires the highest degree of devotion, not only to your new Wife, but also to the man who she has chosen as her mating partner. Do you understand?"

"I understand," Mark responded confidently.

"And Mark, you do know that this little ceremony has no legal standing but it does serve as a solemn moment of commitment by you to Mary and Gregg. It is a voluntary statement, in front of witnesses, and attested to in this special ledger that records all such departures from the customary marriage," Martin said; and then, with a wry smile.

"Whatever that may be."

His little aside broke the heavy solemness from the moment and we all began to relax.

"Oh! And one more thing," Martin said, "we never, ever refer to this vow as the 'Cuckold's Contract', or any other such epithets."

I hid the grin on my face with a light cough into my white gloved hand; likewise Gregg found the large brass orb hanging from the ceiling of sudden immense interest. Whereas Mark had his serious, almost devout, face - staring unblinking into Martin's benign expression. The Reverend, satisfied that Mark was genuine, flicked the pages of the pamphlet until he reached the section relating to Polyamory, and sub section 'Acquiescent Partner -- Affirmation'.

"My Dear friend Mark," Martin said, no longer smiling, "I have four simple questions to ask you."

Mark nodded, with eyes still fixed on Martin.

"Do you accept the hierarchy of this polyamorous relationship between your new Wife, Mary and Gregg?"

"I do!"

"Then do you recognize Gregg Jorgensen as your Master and his right to mate with Mary?"

"I do!"

"Do you acknowledge Mary's ascendancy over you as your dominant Mistress?"

"I do!.... I always have!"

Martin raised an eyebrow at this response, but continued anyway.

"And finally, do you now renounce all claims of manliness and to live the life of a chaste, emasculated, but dutiful and caring husband to your Wife and submissive personal servant to your Master?"

"I do!"

"Then congratulations on your new lives together my dear children," Martin said as he closed the pamphlet and shook Mark's hand. "Now go and share the good news with your friends and family."

Mark, Gregg, and I walked down the aisle of that church so that everybody knew that it had been a cuckold wedding. My Mom of course, Mark's Mom and brother, friends of Gregg and I from work, Mark's friends from his work. All who knew us and loved us were there on the first day of my marriage to Mark, and Gregg's commitment to me.

The Wedding Reception in a nearby hotel was as wonderful and as awful as most receptions can be. The meal was sumptuous, the drink flowed, the speeches were fatuous and unfunny, and the two families kept themselves to themselves. We danced, we laughed and made small talk, but all the while all that we wanted was to be naked together in the privacy of Gregg's bedroom.

Eventually, we retired to a room in the hotel where my lovely new cuckold husband was allowed to carry out the duty he had been longing to do since I stood beside him that morning.

Cancun was a revelation. Or more to the point, the La Hotel Poliamor was a small discrete establishment that catered for varying lifestyles, including our own. Why do I say this? Because there were other 'three cornered' groups like us - of varying complexity staying at the hotel. In amongst the married, and not so married couples, there were two groups, that we mischievously referred to as 'Standard Poly' (two pretty girls and a handsome rich middle-aged man), there was the group that we referred to as the 'Inter-Poly' (big black man, another man's wife, and her hubby), and us -- the 'Polyandrics'. And nobody stood in judgement, or looked down upon, and best of all -- we could all be ourselves. Mark was especially grateful that his position in our relationship was deemed to be unremarkable in that remarkable hotel.

The beach was private, but long enough for sunbathers to have a large enough area to themselves without imposing on fellow guests. The suite was sumptuous with a separate bedroom for Mark where, after attending to our needs, he would spend the rest of the night asleep.

Gregg and I saw a lot of our own bedroom and the large soft bed saw a lot of action between my muscular handsome Master and me.

Mom had made our new home ready for our return and, after a pointed comment on our lack of a suntan, Mark and I settled down to the first day of our version of a normal married life.

Monday back at work saw Gregg and I running over the business we had missed during the honeymoon in the morning, then in the afternoon with my pretty ankles locked together on his back as he powered his beautiful member deep into my young body. Mark joined us later and we carried on as a Master, Mistress, and a feminized cuckold should until the evening when my husband and I left to spend the rest of the night in our house by the lake.

Weekends meant parties, friends, Gregg in our marriage bed and a wonderful increase in emotional understanding between us. This, anything but dull, routine would set the pattern of our three lives for over the next two decades, as we grew older and more and more comfortable in each other's lives.

Epilogue

Of Mark, I had never held any doubt of his love for me but for many years I waited for that moment when he would say 'Stop! I want my manliness back'; but he never did. The more humiliation he took, the more he desired; his interpretation of 'femming up' became more and more sophisticated and had to be strenuously dissuaded from spending a large amount of money to have a symbolic surgical emasculation.

"It's not about the money," I remember yelling at him.

"There's no need. You're perfect as you are," Gregg had said, stifling a laugh, as Mark had stood before us in one of his best cuckold outfits.

I have thought on Mark's sexual proclivities many times over the years, and have always felt a profound sense of 'belonging' with him, not only after we became a couple as young teenagers but as childhood friends. After some reading on the matter, I have concluded that he has always been a sexual masochist, albeit a harmless one, who had understood his psychological condition from a very early time in his teens. On my part, I have instinctively always known that Mark was different to other men, so I was always careful not to give him cause to feel abandoned by me; cheated upon of course, but I never gave him cause to think that I was leaving him emotionally or physically. And I never have -- even when we decided that my biological clock was ticking.

I was nearly twenty five when, one night after a particularly happy afternoon with the three of us and a nice meal, Gregg had commented that I looked distracted. Just a few days earlier I had met Jenny and Eric in the town shopping mall with their two small children, both of whom it was clear had been fathered by her Ethiopian Lover. And it was just that small and delightful meeting that had me looking back at both my Lover and my husband with little tears glistening my eyes.

Mark and Gregg, by that time, were joint experts in all things 'Mary' and guessed immediately just what was unsettling me. They glanced at each other and nodded in that unspoken rapport that two men with the same interest can have, but it was Gregg who said the words that changed our lives, again. "Do you want a child Mary?"

"Yes!"

Of course I wanted a child. But would there be a problem with Mark? But then I remembered what he had said that night as I had got out of the car. "You do know, don't you Mary, that you don't need my permission to start a family," he had said to me -- even then he had foreseen the day that I would want to grow a baby in my womb.

We waited until after my next period, during which Mark took my birth control pills and, with some ceremony, popped each one out of its retaining bubble and flushed them all down the lavatory. And then he stood aside as Gregg took me to our bedroom to make love with a new purpose, to impregnate his Wife while he knelt by the bed to share in the moment. Suffice to say that my husband attended many such moments before I 'missed' my period and placed the little plastic tester before him, thus confirming that another man had put a baby in his Wife.

George joined us the following year squawking and crying with the indignity of birth as both Gregg and Mark gazed at the miracle unfolding before them. Two years later Theresa Marie joined her big brother in our happy and loving family: and that was just what we had become -- three people who loved each other.

Our love-life, especially in the early years of the children's lives, continued in much the same way as before except we now had the funds to provide nursery care for them.

Gregg and I still made love regularly and Mark, even with his hair now turning grey, still delighted in my intimate grinding on his face.

It was late 2016 when Gregg, with a light but persistent cough, went to the doctor who then sent my gorgeous Lover for tests that came back positive for lung cancer. For a man who had never smoked a cigarette, pipe, or cigar in his life, this was a terrible shock. Whereupon reality decided to visit our hitherto happy household.

Gregg's health deteriorated during 2017 while Mark and I nursed him as best we could until he went into hospital for the last treatment, and stayed there. Gregg passed away in the February of 2018 and I and Mark (yes Mark) wept many bitter tears at his funeral. We missed the man we had both loved in our individual ways and supported each other in our grief, growing even closer, which I am sure Gregg would have approved of.

Unsatisfied with hurting us badly, the following year fate brought us the horror of Covid, as swathes of people in our little town succumbed to that filthy virus. Unsurprisingly, I felt little need for a Lover, or even love itself other than that given by my Son and Daughter, both of whom I profoundly love.

Happily, life has a way of resetting, and it was Mark who told me that an old friend of ours was now back in town, having recently parted from his Wife.

"I saw Scott today Mary," he said, "and he asked after you."

"Really?" I asked, trying hard to conceal the sudden thumping in my chest.

"He says that he still thinks about you."

"That's nice!"

He looked for confirmation of interest in my eyes, and found it. "He says that he would like to take you out for a drink," he said.

I knew what this meant and the preceding three years had been hard on me. I had missed the feel of a man's penetration and wanted to feel it again.

"Do you mean a date?" I asked.

"Yes!"

"That would be very nice."

"I'll help you dress Dear," Mark said, with a happy smile on his pretty cuckold's face.