I'd been dreaming of marrying Katrina for far too long and now we would make it a reality. Legally, nothing would change, since Nevada didn't recogniz... same sex marriage, but that wasn't the point at all. It was the symbolism that mattered, much like so many other things in our relationship.The emotions and purposes of BDSM gained something through the ceremony of it, through the symbols and costumes and deliberate dramas that we played out together. None of it was strictly necessary, but. And, embarrassingly enough, I was still tingling after a few minutes, and my hand went down there again. I certainly didn’t WANT to do it. I was, horrified, embarrassed, every negative feeling about the dream and about myself, and yet I really couldn’t stop myself. I had another great orgasm all the while feeling awful about it, not wanting at all to do it . . . and yet I DID do it. And a third time, sad to say. I even felt I wanted MORE and I rubbed myself again, but 3 is really my limit, so. Amy’s expression faltered, going from annoyance to pleading. The idea of wearing what was obviously a dog collar hit her with a pang of dread and an unwanted sense of arousal.“Do I have to?” she pleaded.“You always have the choice not to wear the collar, Amy, but it is highly recommended you listen to your doctor’s advice.” he answered emphatically, “However, once you agree to wear it, it won’t be removed without my permission.”“Fine.” she accepted, defeat in her voice. Laura stepped behind Amy. .. “Why? You coming?” as Trace winked at him and grabbed John’s semi hard cock he was trying to hide and pitched Sara’s bum. Sara replies “I’m staying there too! So no one will ask if we share a Taxi back together” and smiled and winked at Trace. As 2am approached and people were making their way home, John, Trace and Sara made their exit to the cab ranks and jumped in the first cab waiting. Once in the cab Trace sat in the middle of John and Sara, all three with their hands between each.