Princess Ch. 05

She explained, "All those arrogant young men, who you beat out by taking my virginity and then asking me to marry you, wanted a piece of me. They knew approximately what they'd be able to tap into once we were married. They were greedy, in addition to the other negative traits I told you about. You are benevolent. If you recall, I told you I had some money, and we had a talk about philanthropy. If you have money, you obviously want to use it in a leveraged way to make the world a better place. That's what I love about you; love is important to you, and not money."

Marjorie had been standing there listening to our discussion. I could see her legs were a little wobbly, so I'd put my arm about both women as we talked next to the car. Finally, she said, "I agree with what Jim just said. Holy shit that's a lot of money."

Carrie said, "I asked my estate manager to move about a hundred million over here to the states, so I can have direct access to it whenever I want – like completing the house deal. It's all set up now. I have a special account at Charles Schwab, plus a private investment advisor. I think this'll work out well for us this way. Fortunately, they work with a firm here in the U.S. who can help us when tax and reporting time comes."

I volunteered, "Carrie, if you want me to sign any kind of a prenuptial agreement, I will ... I feel I should. This is way too risky for you ... you need protection of your money in case we should ever break up."

"Oh, I know about those, but there's no need for that. I know you and how you think. Marge too. We are in this for the long haul with each other."

Marge said, "Honey, don't let your idealism set you up for some disaster in the future."

Carrie just nodded, and got into the front seat of the car. I knew this passive response was her way of letting the subject slide away. I'd mention the prenup again in a few days.

By princess standards we had a small wedding – about a hundred and eighty people. My whole family flew in from Michigan. My closest friends came – the ones with whom I'd been having dinner and drinks the night Carrie slipped into the back seat of my car. Most of the people I work with and their significant others came too. By now, they were well aware that I'd gotten engaged to the princess. Carrie had made a lot of friends at the TV station. Marjorie also invited a nice contingent of friends and family.

A special jet flew across the Atlantic two days before the wedding bringing the rest of the royal family, including Princess Emma. Their entire entourage consisted of forty people.

Emma elected to stay with us. Jerry arranged 24/7 security around the condo. When we returned from our honeymoon, we'd move directly into the new house. Although we closed on the house, there was still a punch list of major items to make it livable.

We'd arranged with Jerry to be our personal bodyguard. This enabled him to be at the condo with us, and also removed any suspicion of hanky-panky. He was the consummate professional, and often checked and coordinated with the royal security staff that, at Carrie's request, deferred to him.

Emma launched herself into my arms, and subsequently my bed as soon as the door to our condo shut for the evening. She said, "Finally, you can make love to me. Oh, I've missed you so." I got a thousand kisses.

Carrie joined Emma and me, and we turned her sister into a blithering and quivering mass of sexually satisfied female over the next two hours. Jerry and Marjorie were there too, and I'd never seen a girl cum so hard so many times as Em did.

The next morning, we all dressed to the nines, and left the condo. There were about three hundred reporters and camera people behind a cordoned off area. Our whole party walked out to join them. Jerry and Marjorie hung back. I noticed several TV cameras in the mix.

The sound of three hundred cameras snapping pictures can be deafening. Eventually, we shifted to taking questions behind a small podium someone had set up laden with microphones. Marjorie, noted TV personality that she'd become, moved behind the podium and acted as the moderator for a thirty minute Q&A session.

I thought the questions were inane, but we weathered through them: Are you excited about getting married? [Yes.] Does it bother you that you've only been going together for four months? [No. We're in love.] Do you have plans for children? [Eventually and soon.] Are your parents happy? [Yes.] Where will you honeymoon? [It's a secret, duh!]

I expected some controversial ones, maybe about our threesome lifestyle, but they never arose. While we didn't advertise our lifestyle, we didn't hide it either.

We took a limousine into downtown Washington, and connected with the rest of the royal entourage at the Washingtonian Hotel, where Carrie had changed her life – and mine. We had a brunch together, and I behaved myself despite seeing many opportunities for fun or sarcasm. My parents were also there, and I could tell that my mother had my father under her thumb. They too were the most dignified I'd ever seen them.

This was the first time my parents had met Carrie, and they were especially impressed with her. Marjorie was officially the maid of honor, so she was in on all our festivities. I brought her over to my parents at one point and introduced her. After a few minutes of chat, she drifted away with one of her friends.

My dad said, "She'll be quite a catch for someone. I like her."

I smiled, "That's good, because I caught her. She's mine too."

My mother looked perplexed. "What do you mean?"

"Marjorie lives with us. We're a threesome. We are in love with each other. Tomorrow, when we wed, you'll also see Carrie and I do a commitment ceremony with Marjorie."

Dad lit up, "And if we allowed bigamy, you'd be marrying her too?"

"You got it."

My dad gave me a high five. He was cool, and knew cool when he saw it. We both laughed.

Mom looked on and she obviously didn't get it. She said, "What do you mean you caught her, and that you are a threesome?"

Dad turned to her, "He is romantically and sexually involved with two women. He's going to marry one tomorrow and make a commitment to the other."

My mother turned scarlet. "Wow! You ... they ... how do you ... oh, never mind. I need to use my imagination more than I do. You're way out there ahead of me."

I laughed and so did my father. I heard him tell her, "I'll explain more later. Just roll with it. Marjorie is just as important as Carrie to our son. Be nice to her."

"Oh, I will. I will. I liked her immensely."

I added as a taunt to my mother, "Well, when we come to visit, just know that there'll be three of us not two."

Marjorie's parents had been included in the pre-ceremony festivities. I met them for the first time. They had already been clued in about our lifestyle, so they were just glad to be meeting the people her daughter planned to spend the rest of her life with. I saw Carrie spend some significant time with them too.

Lunch turned into a three-hour event with lots of tea and then a gradual shift to gin and tonics for the British crowd, and craft beer for the Americans. Carrie, Marjorie, Emma, and I all stayed off of the alcohol, lest we get too happy and say something we might regret. No one else, including Carrie's parents seemed worried about that possibility.

Carrie had taken on the ticklish job of explaining Marjorie to her Mum and Dad. She'd gotten between the two of them after the meal had been cleared and as the shift to alcohol started. I watched her talking to them in hushed tones. At one point, I made eye contact with her and blew her a kiss of support. She gave me a pained smile, and went back to talking to her parents.

Eventually, their talk stopped. Carrie's mother seemed a little tight lipped, and her father was slightly purple – a color I took to mean rage. I looked for Carrie, only she had vanished. I took a walk through the hotel to look for her but couldn't find her.

As I returned to where we were all assembled, Carrie's father – a man of true royalty – made a beeline for me. I girded myself for what would come next.

"James, may I have a word with you?" There was only one answer to that question.

"Most certainly, sir."

"You are living with two women – one of whom is my daughter." There was almost a question mark at the end of his statement. The statement was obviously an accusation.

"Yes sir. We love one another."

"How do you know it's love and not lust?"

The question was not unexpected. The three of us had talked about that possibility several times.

I spoke slowly, "I know because in the deepest reaches of my soul I would move heaven and earth to make them happy, even if that included giving them to someone that they believe they might love better than me."

My statement must have surprised him. He took another tack, "And do you intend to keep this living arrangement or lifestyle for a long time?"

"The rest of my life, sir; if they'll allow me to remain in their lives." I took the bull by the horns, "I know this looks like the ideal situation for a man – living with two gorgeous and accomplished women. My stomach is in knots constantly since we began our threesome being sure that I'm inclusive, that I'm maximizing the happiness for each of them, and that I'm the best partner to them that I can be. One can easily overemphasize the sexual part of our relationship, but that would be a mistake. A large part of what we enjoy is being in each other's company, talking and sharing ideas and views, and the spiritual interaction between us – interaction on a higher plane, if you will."

His brow furled, "And you no doubt can't wait to get your hands on my daughter's money?"

"Sir, I pleaded with her to do a prenuptial agreement, and so did Marjorie. Carrie would have nothing to do with it. Regardless, we will treat our relationship with her as though we did. Should she wish to leave, she will leave whole and I assure you as I stand here before you that she will not suffer financially from our time together should that time end."

"And ... and ... and, you probably don't want children either."

"Actually, I love children. The three of us have talked, and look forward to a large family. I don't know how it will work, but we are so committed to each other that I know we'll figure it out in a pleasing way that will benefit the children and us – and all the grandparents. Both women and I are eager to start. I hope you will be an active grandparent to any issue from our family."

"Even Marjorie's children?"

"Yes, especially her children, because they will be born of love from me and Carrie, just as Carrie's children will be born of love from Marjorie and me. You have to understand, sir, that this is not a cavalier arrangement. We have spent hundreds of hours talking through every aspect of our relationship as it exists today, and as it might mature in the future. We remain committed to each other in ways far beyond normal married couples. Tomorrow's wedding is a mere formality in our feelings for each other."

Carrie's dad was silent, but he studied me for a very long minute. I remained mute, but kept my eye contact with the monarch.

I finally had the last word before he turned and strolled away. "Sir. We love each other in ways you may not understand. Please don't do anything to upset Carrie's happiness with this week and with our union. I will move heaven and earth to make sure you know of my authenticity and zeal to please her, and I will use that same effort to earn your trust and satisfaction with our union."

He finally nodded silently to me, and returned to his wife. I saw the two of them in a dialogue I would have given anything to listen to. I still didn't see Carrie, but I found Marjorie and joined her. In an aside with her, I asked her to find Carrie and find out if she'd weathered the conversation with her parents' unhappiness at our living situation.

Marge took off, and returned twenty minutes later with Carrie in tow. Carrie looked refreshed, and had obviously just washed her face and reapplied makeup. She came up and hugged me.

"I had a brief talk with your father."

"You're alive," she jested, but she had tears in her eyes.

"Yes, and I emphasized our love for each other, even about having children."

"That must have thrown him. He thinks this is all a lark, and that I'm just acting out my teenage years and rebelling a decade later than expected."

I spoke, "Well, we have the rehearsal and the dinner this afternoon and evening. Let's see how he handles that. Oh, and if you're rebelling, I hope you include Marjorie and me in your plans."

Those of us in the wedding party drove over to the National Cathedral at five o'clock. We met the minister, and made introductions of the entire circle at that point: Carrie, Emma, Marjorie, Carrie's parents – the monarchs, Marjorie's parents, my parents, and a few others as groomsmen and bridesmaids. Jerry was acting as a stand-in for my brother Doug who was going to be my best man; he was flying in later that evening.

The minister lined us up, and it was noted that Marjorie would be walking down the aisle last and alone as the maid of honor.

Carrie's dad stepped forward. He said in a formal tone, "I know this is going to be an unconventional family – lord knows the whole world is becoming unconventional as far as I'm concerned, but I would like to make a recommendation."

We all looked at him, and I feared what he was about to say.

"My understanding is that my daughter and James are going to have a commitment ceremony with Marjorie after the nuptials, is that right?"

Several of us nodded and said yes.

"Then, I think Marjorie's father should also be walking her down the aisle just before I arrive with Carrie, if that's acceptable. If the aisle were wide enough, we should all walk down together, but that doesn't seem logistically possible."

We were speechless. His pronouncement had profound implications to us. It meant he approved and saw Marjorie as an integral part of our relationship."

Carrie rushed over to her Dad and threw her arms around him, "Oh, Daddy. Thank you. That makes it so special for all of us."

Marjorie was crying next to me at that point, and we were all standing in front of the altar. The minister was a little nonplused, and yet we'd explained the situation to him.

The monarch said, "Maybe that should make Emma the maid of honor to the three of them, if that's all right with everyone. I know she's in love with the lot of them anyway, so it may as well put some kind of family seal of approval on things."

Emma now started to cry. She hugged her father, and raced to Carrie for a hug, and then to Marjorie and me. I was crying too – tears of happiness. I hadn't realized how tense and anxious we all were about how the senior royals would regard our situation. If they'd wanted, they could have put up a huge stink and ruined the whole event.

After we got our overflow of emotions under control, we went through the rehearsal like clockwork. As we left the church, I went to the monarch's side, and said in a firm tone, "Thank you, sir."

He turned to me, smiled, and said, "From now on, I want you to call me Clive." He smiled at me and held out his hand. We shook hands, and then he gave me a very father-like hug.

I had planned to stay at Jerry's condo that night, so that the two women could preserve the custom that the groom doesn't see the bride(s) until they walk down the aisle to him. We laughed because we'd decided that Jerry should be 'on duty' with Carrie and Marjorie that night – and we knew what that meant. He gave me a shit-eating grin, and verified that I was OK about him 'entertaining' my two brides the night before our wedding. Since they were OK with it, I was too.

I ended up with Emma as my consolation prize, and we made love about four times that night and into the next morning. It was the first time we'd made love alone, without either Marjorie or Carrie or both being present. She was insatiable, and I felt pretty worked up too. I wondered if I'd have any stamina left for my wedding night.

Emma asked, "If I ever wanted to be part of your family would you let me, the way Marjorie is, for instance?"

I said, "Emma, I love you, but that might be way too much for your parents to absorb."

She giggled, "I know, but forget about them. Would you?"

"I would welcome you with open arms, and I know Marge and Carrie would too. Be sure you want this life. So far, it's ill defined for us. We haven't sorted out Carrie's visa or green card, nor has she decided on the path she's going to walk or how. Why don't you watch us for a while and see if this is really something you want to be part of."

"Who would I marry to get a permanent visa or green card?"

"Whoa! Wrong question. If that's your goal, our lawyer tells me the U.S. Customs and Immigration Service will discern that and rule against you in many ways. We're optimistic that with the investment Carrie is making here, with our unplanned and unpremeditated romance before she arrived, and with the robust wedding, that we'll pass with flying colors. That said there's still a chance we might not be together quite the way we want."

Emma nodded, and then her nodding started to include my cock in her mouth, and then I was ready again, and soon her lithe body was atop mine as we madly fucked away. I wondered how many grooms enjoyed their soon-to-be sister-in-law the night before the wedding. I suspected it wasn't many, but I did have the thought that the number wasn't zero.

Despite our long hours making love the night before, Emma and I were alert and eager when we got up. I dropped her by the condo on my way into downtown, and she went up to join her sister and Marjorie in preparing for the wedding. I saw the limousine in the courtyard waiting for the wedding party, although they wouldn't be ready for another hour.

In town, I went to the National Cathedral and checked in with the minister and the wedding planner. I slipped away into a locker room, shaved, showered, and got into my tuxedo. My older brother Doug who would be my best man had arrived late the night from the west coast where he worked in Silicon Valley. He quickly got into his tux, and then I walked him through the ceremony since he'd missed the rehearsal the night before.

Guests started to arrive and be seated in the sanctuary about forty-five minutes before our eleven a.m. service. I recognized several of them, so went and chatted with them until the wedding planner nudged me into a back room.

Doug and I talked about the past four months, and what Carrie and Marjorie were like, how our parents had taken the news of the threesome lifestyle, and then I also informed him about Emma, and how I'd spent the previous night. He just shook his head in awe and disbelief.

Organ music started about fifteen minutes before the hour. At eleven-ten, being politely delayed for those looking for parking spaces, the wedding planner came into the anteroom we were in and instructed us to walk into our positions at the front of the church. Three minutes later we stood before the throng of family, royals, friends, and guests. I spotted four television cameras immediately. I'd nearly forgotten that the wedding was being carried live on national television. In many ways this was turning out to be the wedding of the year, at least according toPeople magazine. I also noted the videographers, several photographers, and six members of the press who Marjorie had selected as the inside 'pool' team. They would share their photos and observations with the rest of the media.

The organ music changed and segued into the wedding march, everyone in the church stood, and then the groomsmen and bridesmaids followed the flower girl and boy down the aisle on a snow-white ribbon of carpet two groomsmen – my buddies – had unfurled. The aisle was long, we had a large party, and no one moved fast, so it was quite a parade of pomp deserving of a royal wedding – my wedding. Eventually, I saw my brother escorting Emma down the aisle – my best man and the newly dubbed maid of honor. They did look cute together. I wondered ...