Epilogue

The camera switches on. The view is of a bright and luxury room. The walls have art on them, the carpet is plush, and the bed in the center of the frame is covered in a brocade bedspread, four plump pillows and an assortment of cushions all wrapped in the same or a slight variant of the bedspread's plush fabric. The furniture is modern and equally as expensive looking.

A young woman sits perched on the side of the bed looking at the camera with wide eyes as she fidgets her fingers.

From the camera angle, the staging is just visible. There are several large lights attached onto tripods for height, and two other cameras are in-shot. One near the wall on the far side of the bed, clamped to black narrow pipes with wing nuts at each elbow. This framework is bent to position the small recording device, so it is looking down the length of the bed from the pillow end. The other is only noticeable only by the small red light which is shining out of the unlit area on the rear left side of the bed. Both have a tiny LED showing a solid color indicating that they are currently recording the girl sitting on the bed.

She is not dressed simply. She is wearing an ornate white dress. It is draped to be off the shoulder but clings to her as it wraps around her figure to a beaded hem at her feet. Her hair is swept off her face and there is a gauzy veil that hangs from a clip somewhere behind her crown. Her makeup is applied so that it looks natural but enhances her facial features making her eyes look huge and smoky. She looks beautiful.

Her knees are pressed together, and her hands are shaking on her lap as she fidgets with the beads on the dress.

"Is it on?" she smiles at someone behind the camera.

"Yes, Mrs Hargraves," the voice moves into frame, "We are very much turned on."

"You're such a geek," she rolls her eyes at him.

The man is dressed in a dark suit with a sprig of flowers in the buttonhole. His brown hair is styled to a short but fashionable cut that flatters his face. As we are watching he drops the jacket from his shoulders, even with the dress shirt still on you can clearly see that the man is muscular. He removes the shirt and turns to the woman on the bed, confirming that this abs are well defined and his body is buff. He leans down and kisses her with a long lingering kiss as he leans into her encouraging her backwards and on to the bed.

"Slow down," she pushes him back, "Where's the disclaimer to read? I want my prepared speech? I though you wanted to recreate all the magic?"

"The sex," he growls, "I wanted to recreate all the magic of the sex."

"You have distorted memories of the event," she laughs and avoids his advances, "Just because we created the mother of all sex tapes from the footage, that does not mean there was no talking just sex."

"There was only sex," he spoke like he was trying to convince her, "That's all I remember."

"Well, Doctor Hargraves, Mr PhD," she laughed, "Your recollection of the event has been altered by your own preconceived assumptions. If this recreation is going to be successful, then you are going to have to adopt a more professional approach to this project."

"You want me to slow down?" he smirks, "Be methodical in my delivery?"

"Should I call you Doctor?" she rolls her eyes at his inuendo, "After all it's only fair, because you do have your doctorate now."

"That's right Subject-1," he nods, "Just as you have graduated to subject-1 and will remain the primary subject in this study for the indefinite future."

"For your whole, entire, life, Mr Doctor," she growls, "Indefinite future, my arse!"

"Your arse is rather beautiful," he moans, "Can we get to the sex part? I've been wanting to rip that dress off you from the moment I saw you at the end of the aisle. That ceremony was too long, I almost consummated our vows against the alter with all our family and friends watching."

"The purpose of this study," she shook her head at him but otherwise evades his lusty hands, "Is to explore the process of creating the modern husband."

"And here was I thinking that we were just creating the mother-of-all-sex-tapes 2," he opens the zipper on his trousers letting his penis free from its constraints.

"Investigating how sex changes and matures post-nuptials," she drops her hand to the staff projecting from his trousers and runs her fingers down its length, "And the effect of having the male participant being harnessed and whipped into the ideal man."

"Is that your plan?" the man lifts an eyebrow as he leans back to allow her fingertips more access, "And here was I thinking you'd already done that?"

"The first phase," she smiles as she pulled some old neck ties from under one of the pillows with her free hand, "Is to test your trust and to find out how obedient you are."

"It's been a while since we did this," he lifts his hips pushing his erection into her waiting palm as he kicks off his trousers and lies back on the bed. His eyes never leaving her as he submits to her, "I am your dog, your plaything, and will forever be your slave."

"You are my husband," she laughs, "That makes all other terms of self-reference redundant."

She takes his hands and ties them together, twisting the ties in a figure of eight around his wrists. Then he releases him and he tests them by attempting to separate them, and then puts them above his head while shuttling to the middle of the bed. The pillows and the cushions fall from the bed.

She stands and looks at his body. Her lips curl in a slow seductive smile. She runs her fingers down his torso admiring the sculpted muscles.

Without removing her dress she crawls on the bed and positions herself between his legs. She drops to all fours, directly above him. Her veil spreads out and screens his body from the camera but the outline of his erection is still visible as it stands as a bridge between their bodies.

"Do you like the dress," she asks as she looks at him yearning beneath her.

"The dress is pretty, my wife is beautiful, but she's even more gorgeous when she's wrapped around my cock and tinged with the blush of an orgasm," he groans as he tries to rotate his hips to make his erection spear her between her thighs, "I need you, Paige. I need to make love to you right now or there will be more than beads and sequins adorning that dress."

She lowers herself and stretches out her arms so that the embellishments on the dress are dragged down his skin. He leans his head back and groans without restraint. She holds her position with her breasts on his lower abs and his penis captured by the rough fabric that housed them. Then she wriggles so that he was wedged in the between her soft mounds and she breathes deeply causing him to suck in his own breath.

"Please," he breaths the word, "Fuck, I'm so fucking hard. I've been throbbing since I heard the first note on that damn wedding march and turned to see you framed in that doorway. I nearly took you to the toilets at the reception and had you nailed against the cubicle wall while I made you introduce yourself as the Mrs Paige Hargraves, my slut and exclusive whore."

"Impatient?" she laughs softly as she kisses his taunt skin.

"After just over three years of me banging you at every opportunity," he groans as he closes his eyes, "I would have thought you'd have guessed how horny I am for you."

"I don't need to guess," she pushes off him letting his erection pop outwards, "You don't hide it very well."

"I could hide it better," he lifts an eyebrow, "Inside you, for instance, that's the perfect place to hide it."

"I can only hope that your interest in me never wains," she frees herself from the veil, letting her hair loose and then she lifts the hem of her dress so that it is bunched around her waist.

"You weren't wearing any panties?" he groans as his eyes roll back a little.

"They left a line," she defends herself with wide fake innocent eyes before she smiled, "I was going to tell you, to drive you crazy, but it didn't seem to be necessary. Those trousers were already under so much stain that adding to the pressure wouldn't have been cruel."

"Ill tell you what is cruel," he growls, "You promised to love, honor and obey me. I'm ordering you to make love to me, honor my cock and obey my need to fuck you until you've orgasmed yourself in a hot slushy mess."

"Now, now," she laughs.

"Yes, now," he emphasizes, "Right now. Please Paige. I don't know how long I can hold it."

"But you haven't begged me yet," she pouts.

"Please Paige," he spouts the words quickly, "You are everything to me. I need you. I love you. I want you more than the air I breathe. I am nothing without you. Please, let me cum inside you. Please, encase my cock and let me churn you until you coat me in your cream. I need to make you mine now that you are indisputably mine."

"I am yours," she laughs at his blatant enthusiasm as she lowers her hips and impales herself on the waiting appendage, "But then again I always have been yours."

He brings his hands down to encircle her as he twists his body like a fish out of water then he flips them both over and pins her to the bed. His hands tied underneath her, he slams himself into her.

"With this body," he hisses, "I thee wed. I will have you and to hold you, in sickness, health, wealth and poverty. I will love and cherish you with every fiber of my being, for the rest of my life and into the afterlife."

"John," she breathed his name as tears budded in her eyes.

"This is my promise to you," he continued to thrust, "I am yours Paige."

"And you are mine," was all she could manage.

"Then let's consummate this thing and spend the honeymoon making the sequel to my all-time favorite sex tape."

She couldn't answer that as she was already doing as he commanded.

The End (again)