"Author's note: This story is Part 7 (the final part) of my first serialized work. Read the earlier parts if you haven't already. The concept behind this story, including generalized characters/names and premise, was suggested by Literotica user Rav09. The story's development and specifics are my own.
This story will contain themes of cuckolding, voyeurism, reluctance/seduction, and interracial connections. You've been warned.
And the usual disclaimers: all characters are fictional, similarities to real-world people/events are purely coincidental, everyone involved is of legal consenting age, etc.
I was about to be married.
The thought passed through my mind on repeat. After months of planning, effort, and waiting, the day had finally arrived. In just a few short hours, Amanda and I would say our vows... and then we'd be official.
It was odd; on the one hand, Amanda and I were so connected that being married wasn't likely to change much between us... but on the other hand, there were a few differences I anticipated. The simplest being that I'd have to start referring to Amanda as my wife, rather than my fiancé. And then there were all the legal ramifications, too.
But the biggest difference would be Dante.
Dante, our black roommate, had been living with us now for almost a year. We'd picked him out of a pool of subletting applicants, assuming he'd simply be a convenient way to lower our share of the rent. It wasn't long, however, before he proved to be much more than that. I still vividly remember the spark that formed between him and Amanda... the accidental teasing, the mutual curiosity, and the charged atmosphere. Then, because of my own scheming, Amanda had found herself alone with Dante, in an incredibly compromising position. A position that he had taken full advantage of. The wildest part was that he didn't hide their encounter from me at all. Quite the contrary, Dante came straight out and admitted to me that he had slept with Amanda—even before I had! I should have taken it as a sign of things to come, but hindsight is 20/20.
Over the next few months, the dynamic between Dante and Amanda fluctuated between platonic and erotic. They had more encounters... and more sex. But always with just enough time apart that I'd underestimated just how intertwined the two of them were becoming.
And then Sexy-Amanda made her debut, and all bets were off. Like their first encounter, Sexy-Amanda was as much my doing as theirs. Watching my formerly-repressed fiancé connect so deeply with her sensual side transformed me: I needed to see more of it, even if it meant giving Dante and Amanda an open pass for each other.
And so, I gave them my blessing.
I never regretted doing so, but I drastically underestimated just how much they would make use of it.
There was a short period of uncertainty (was my blessing real?), but it wasn't long before they were fucking constantly. In just a few weeks, they'd fucked so much that Dante had been inside my fiancé even more than I had. It was extra impressive, considering Amanda and I had been together for years, whereas mere months earlier, we didn't know Dante even existed.
I realize most men would not have been okay with this situation. Even if they might have understood in the beginning, the situation had progressed so far that—at least sexually speaking—Amanda was essentially more Dante's than mine. Yet I wasn't bothered.
Maybe I was just naïve, but I never sensed that Amanda had any desire for Dante beyond sex. She was still the perfect girl I'd fallen in love with and proposed to... just now with a little extra spice on the side.
And, truth is, I enjoyed watching her with Dante. I can't explain it, other than to say that it was almost like I was the one giving Amanda spectacular fuck after spectacular fuck. Sure, Dante was the one physically doing it, but I was the one who had given him permission... so really, I was the responsible party. Or at least, that's what it felt like.
But now, all of that had come to an end.
When our marriage became imminent, Amanda and I agreed it would be a good time to wrap up our fun with Dante. As I'd mentioned before, we weren't very religious, but it felt wrong to treat our marriage so cavalierly, even if we had no problem with it as an engaged couple. I'd managed to set Dante and Amanda up one last time at her bachelorette—and it was appropriately climactic as a final-fuck—but we all knew our dynamic was about to change. It was disappointing, but our arrangement had always been temporary.
And now its expiration date had arrived; I was about to be married.
Our ceremony was scheduled for 5pm, supposedly the perfect time for a spring Saturday afternoon. Amanda and I started the day together at our apartment, but we didn't have much time to lounge about. After a quick breakfast, we were both out the door. Me, to join my groomsmen at their hotel, and Amanda, to head to the venue to begin her preparations. We were both a bundle of nerves, and aside from me concernedly pointing out the giant purple hickey on her neck (a parting gift from Dante), we didn't talk much. Too much else to worry about.
My time with my groomsmen went fast—there was drinking, good-natured ribbing, and plenty of congratulations offered—and before I knew it, it was time for us to head to the venue as well.
The venue was beautiful. It was located just outside the city limits with a large, rustic building to host the ceremony and reception, surrounded by pristine wilderness, full of chirping birds and rustling animals. Trees and flowers bloomed fantastically, and even though I'm not normally concerned with such things, I had to admit that Amanda had done a terrific job choosing the site.
We had arrived hours early, and so with time to kill, I socialized with the wedding guests who were already there: my groomsmen, my parents, and my soon-to-be in-laws. We were all in extremely good spirits, and soon our laughter flowed freely.
I did have one unexpected encounter, however. In the middle of joking with my groomsmen, I heard a recognizable feminine voice call my name. Turning around, I was surprised to see Megan (Amanda's maid of honor) signaling for my attention.
"Dan... sorry to interrupt, but mind if I talk to you for a second?" Megan's nervousness was obvious.
"Uh, sure. Is everything okay?" I asked, becoming concerned. "Is Amanda all right?"
"Amanda's fine," Megan quickly reassured, "But there's... well... can you come with me for just a minute?"
"Yeah, that's fine," I said, shrugging. I excused myself from my groomsmen and followed Megan to a quiet spot just outside the building.
Megan didn't speak right away. Instead, she looked around uneasily, like she was wrestling with herself on whether to proceed.
"Megan, what is it?" I prompted.
Megan sighed deeply and shook her head. "Shit. I'm sorry, Dan. I don't know if I should be doing this. I don't want to cause any trouble. I just want to do the right thing."
I suddenly had a sneaking suspicion about where this was going. "Just tell me, Megan. It'll be fine, I promise."
"You don't know that. What if I ruin everything?" Megan's face suddenly crunched together and then she began to cry.
Caught by surprise, I didn't know what to do other than give her a gentle hug. This only made Megan cry more, but then in a few seconds, her tears were gone. Halted as quickly as they'd started. She wiped away the remaining ones that had spilled.
"Sorry, this has just been eating me up all night. Promise you won't be mad at me?"
"I promise, Megan. It's okay. Just tell me." I said comfortingly.