All participants are over 18. The idea for this story was suggested by donaldelliott11, with thanks.
*****
"With this ring, I thee wed," Angelica said.
With this yoke, I thee burden, Artie's mind echoed, just one moment forgetting the perks that came with marrying this fat, moody cow.
Everything had moved so fast. Artie had the good fortune of working for Mr. Carmichael Pratt-Linden's corporation. He was only a junior office manager, but the money and benefits were decent. His fortunes really changed when the chairman's daughter, Angelica Pratt-Linden, toured the corporate headquarters building. Naturally, she was treated as a VIP. Mr. Pratt-Linden had probably hoped to interest his vacuous daughter in the family business, but instead she took an interest in Artie.
Artie couldn't believe his luck. The top boss's daughter, an heiress to vast wealth, was pursuing him of all people. Nobody could honestly call Angelica a beautiful woman: she had flabby arms and a jelly roll around her waist; despite her youth—she was twenty-three—her tits, large as they were, sagged; she wore thick-rimmed glasses with lenses as thick as her thumb; her tendency to wear tight pants only accentuated the fact that she had a fat ass. But she was rich! Artie coveted the wealth enough to exploit the opportunity before him. He fucked her silly and after that, if she was smitten before, she fell for him even harder. In truth, Angelica bored him but she was his best chance to live the easy life. After six months of dating, Angelica told Artie to go and talk with her father: the traditional request for the daughter's hand in marriage.
The meeting was tense for Artie but Mr. Pratt-Linden kept perfect composure. He had allowed Artie to see him at his office and allotted him an appointment of fifteen minutes: one minute of pleasantries; two minutes for Artie to broach the subject; the chairman spent the rest of the time explaining he was only allowing the pair to marry because his daughter begged him. He made quite clear that, compared to the marriage partners his son and his other daughter had attracted, he thought Artie was nothing but a lazy gold-digger. He warned Artie not to break his daughter's heart or there would be consequences. There would be an ironclad pre-nuptial agreement in any case.
A week or two later, Artie sat with the Pratt-Linden family lawyer, Ferguson, and signed a pre-nup couched in legalese beyond his full comprehension. Marriage plans proceeded quickly, and one year to the day from their first meeting, the couple were united in holy matrimony in a beautiful, expensive venue. Their honeymoon was a month long and was spent in a variety of exotic international locales, all paid for by Artie's new father-in-law.
Sex between Angelica and Artie was a challenge for the man. He sometimes found it hard to get it up for his oversize lover. Sex usually only happened when Angelica took control of the bedroom manoeuvres. She didn't notice Artie's lack of ardour; she liked initiating sex. She liked to be on top and Artie felt pleasure in submitting beneath that mountain of flesh. He felt warm, safe and wanted. Another side of him was aware that he liked to be dominated in this way. Their lovemaking sessions were hot and sticky but usually mutually satisfying.
When they were back from holiday, the newlyweds were tanned, relaxed and content. Artie had been promoted from junior management to junior director of his division. It was a meaningless title; all the power lay with the director. Artie was essentially a glorified assistant with a higher salary. It was a dream come true for Artie, who didn't notice until much later that his nepotic career leap had alienated him from his previous work friends. In his new position, many colleagues feigned friendship with him for fear or hope that Artie might have some influence on the old man, his father-in-law.
In truth, Artie rarely had access to his father-in-law, the chairman. Artie regularly attended family events with his wife, meeting up with her siblings and their partners. The old man was a widower and he usually sat at the head of the table presiding like an ancient patriarch, which is what he was, after a fashion.
Angelica's brother, Barry, the only boy of the Pratt-Linden brood, was a fit and handsome thirty-year-old. He was also openly gay. His husband, Tim, was good-looking but he was also a very quiet and mousy little man. When he saw them together, the two gay men reminded Artie of his gay experimentation with other men back in his college days. Artie had caught himself checking out his brother-in-law's ass and crotch on a number of occasions.
One long summer weekend, the family and some esteemed business colleagues gathered at Mr. Pratt-Linden's lakeside mansion estate north of the city. The old man and some of his work friends spent their time golfing on the billionaire's private course. The rest of the family and the spouses of the visiting business people lounged around the swimming pool discussing shallow subjects. Barry and Tim were lost in conversation with each other.
Artie wasn't invited to play golf with Mr. Pratt-Linden and he was bored with the conversation at the pool. When nobody was looking, he excused himself from and went inside the house, happy to get away from the shrill voice of his wife, presently discussing shoes with her peers.
It was cool walking through the house wearing only swimming trunks. He felt a bit naked. He went to the washroom and wandered about the house looking for any distraction from the dull party outside. His meandering led him to Mr. Pratt-Linden's impressive library. He picked through a few shelves before finding a tome of interest. He took the book to one of the great wingback chairs sitting in front of the cold fireplace. A few minutes later, Artie was fully absorbed in his reading material.
"I see right through you, little man."
The voice made Artie jump. He dropped his book and looked up. It was Barry; he had quietly entered the room and stalked over to Artie's chair. Like Artie, his brother-in-law was wearing only a bathing suit.
"Wh-what do you mean?" Artie asked.
Barry grinned. "Don't even try to deny it. You've checked out my package a dozen times this weekend alone. I've caught you looking at my ass lots of times too. Why don't you just admit that you're a sissy?"
Artie reddened. In truth, in college, he had experimented with homosexuality and enjoyed it, but he had chosen to live a straight life. He had thought he was doing so well constructing that life. After all, he was married to a woman. He had turned his back on the call of his gay urges.
"Your expression says it all, Artie. You know I'm right." Barry grabbed his crotch with his right hand. "You know you want this."
Fuck, Artie thought, as he felt his erection rising to create a tent in his bathing suit, betraying the straight image he was trying to present.
"Artie," Barry said with good humour, pointing at Artie's obvious boner. "Your cock is on my side in this. Just accept it. You are who you are. A cocksucker. My tame cocksucker."
Once again, Artie flushed scarlet. It had always turned him on to be called a cocksucker. He felt the pull of Barry's dick. He thought of what he risked by involving himself in an encounter with another man. It could cost him his marriage, his social position and his job. Yet, his mouth watered. Artie was maddening with lust for Barry's cock.
"You know you want to," Barry said.
