Several of Karen's friends were going to serve as my attendants. Tim, or rather Tammy, the son of my Matron of Honor, would be my flower girl. My Matr...n of Honor would wear a gown of dark green satin with a straight neckline and puffed sleeves. The full skirt would have a full petticoat under it. The bridesmaids' gowns would be the same except they would be a lighter shade of green. The flower girl would wear a similar style gown in pink satin with the crinoline under the gown's skirt. All,. She smiled at me and said she really didn't think I had the guts to go all the way through with this, but now she thought i did. With that, I slid my hands under her shirt and worked my way up to her breasts. She moaned lightly as I played with her hardening nipples. I was so turned on I was scared I would cum right then. I told her we needed to go to the basement. (I couldn't fuck her in the bed I sleep with my wife, and she understood)We got downstairs and started kissing immediately. I. "Don't you just love it?" she asked again, as she pulled my hand down to feel the bed."Yes Mistress, I agree -- it is just perfect." Still wondering and worried about our conversation downstairs, and totally self-conscious about my bare legs, I was lost in thought and not really all there.Mistress Staci then pulled both my hands down to the bed, and then pushed down on my shoulders, as she swung herself up and back onto her feet. Massaging my back while applying pressure to keep me bent over. Dark strands of pitch hung limply against her face, oily tendrils clinging to her brow. Hollowed cheeks, gaunt frame spoke of iron control and wild helplessness, the faint taste of bile lingered at the back of her throat. Beauty was fickle, the slender frame now skeletal, ravaged by years of starvation and her skin sagged on her dejectedly, the lines that burrowed into her brow premature. Rumpled clothing, the kind that one bought in the attempt to feign wealth, in cut that nearly draped.