As the ceremony goes on my young bride casts glances at her husband to be.

She looks at me and is worried. She looks at the wrinkles around my eyes and mouth, she looks at my eyes and they seem a little hazy, not quite the crisp. cruel blue they once were. And she sees a hint of the look of confusion that old men sometimes get. With a shock she realises that I'm an old man. She had expected an Adonis and what she is getting is the ruin of an Adonis.

She looks at my flat. even concave, belly and sees the folds of slack flesh on the surface. She looks at my old man's legs and sees the knotted veins at the back and the surgery scars from long ago that failed to prevent the return of some of the disfiguring varicose veins. She sees my sagging pecs and soft old nipples. I look like an old woman with sagging, empty tit bags. 

She shudders, then discretely slips her hand in to hold my cock as we are pronounced man and wife. As we kiss and she sees the flash of my brilliantly white false teeth she whispers to me, "You will be dead soon old man, then I will get a real man and I will dance on your grave. You must satisfy me tonight or you must kill yourself. That is the rule. Are your withered old peanut balls still big enough for that, or will you turn cry baby and start blubbing as you beg for your life?"

She then ordered me to carry her off stage and she felt my arms trembling from the strain as I did so.

TO BE CONTINUED

M x