“Please swear we didn’t turn you queer,” his fiancée begged him, still fucking his ass hard with a large black vibrator.
“It wasn’t bad at all,” he confessed, cum falling from the corner of his mouth. “But I’d rather not ever do that again.”
“He’s just trying to reassure you,” Moody let her know. “He’ll dream about it a lot before he tries it again. Just get him high and he’ll do whatever you want.”
“Am I an honorary fag now?” Michael asked him.
“Boy, there is no honor in being a fag. But we do know how to have fun!”
“Mikey, the queer won’t fuck my ass, so you need to do it.”
Mara knelt on the sofa and shook her tush at him.
“Suck on this,” Moody told her, handing her more Patron.
Excited to finally get -- as opposed to receive -- anal, Michael lined up and thrust his sword in to the hilt. Her surprised yelp made the boys laugh.
“That fucking hurt!” she cried.
“Welcome to my world,” Moody shot back. “And homophobes think we choose to be gay,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. “Only gay men would prefer to give than receive a blowjob. If we’re not born with different wiring, then I don’t know how to explain that.”
Michael had never done anal before, and thrust it in the first time like a used pussy. Big mistake. So now he took it almost all of the way out and eased it in gently, a little at a time, giving her muscles time to adjust.
“Oh. My. God,” Mara whimpered. “That feels so good. Not necessarily better, but great in a different way. I wouldn’t choose this every day, but once a week sounds fine.”
After her anus accommodated his entire cock, he started thrusting faster.
“Slap my ass, bitch!” she ordered. Moody, drunk and high, rushed over out of reflex before realizing that she was talking to Michael, who started slapping her ass every other second. “Harder now!”
He shoved it in rougher while hitting her butt with greater force. Because he came not too long before, he assumed he would last longer. Nope. Her ass was so tight that it gripped his penis like a golf club.
“Play with your clit,” Michael suggested.
“I’d work for weed,” Moody said to no one in particular, “if it was this good. I could have used this in Iraq.”
“You see combat?”
“I got my ass shot off in Fallujah.”
Michael welcomed the distraction so she would come first. “Have you ever killed anyone?”
“No. But I once made a corporal cum so hard he had a heart attack.”
Mara screamed out an orgasm, her whole body shaking like a giant vibrator. Michael came in her ass before she even stopped trembling. The release from cuming felt like nothing else in the world. They collapsed together on the couch, the happiest couple in the world.
CHAPTER 5
Mara wanted to be famous, so Michael hired a publicist to use her terminal illness to get her as many interviews and speeches as possible. She actually landed on several magazine covers and Michael donated enough so that his local congressman let her testify before Congress on cancer research. The Internet got to know her as the “Dying Olympian.” They threw wild parties at their giant home and invited celebrities, celebrity bloggers, and the usual gossip reporters so Mara could get her picture taken with the hot and famous. Mara did dozens of professional photo shoots and posted them online for free for anyone who wanted to use her image. Her blog, Facebook page, and Twitter feed grew enormous as they documented every bungee jump, skydive, and sport game they enjoyed. She became a fixture on the social scene, getting bit parts on reality shows eager to profit from her imminent death.
All of which made their wedding big news. Michael found a stadium willing to host, and together they found sponsors eager to brag about the big bucks they have ever donated to any worthy cause. Those with terminal illnesses got in free, and everyone else only had to pay a small fee to join the party.
But the big draw was the orgy afterwards. Anyone could watch on the Internet, but Michael rented an old theater -- since Disney begged them not to come until after the orgy.
Mara’s mom entered her dressing room after the last wedding rehearsal. “Honey, Michael asked if you could come meet some special guests.”
Mara loved celebrities. She may die, but she wanted to be remembered, and celebrity offered her best chance at immortality, since she didn’t have time to have kids.
The bride followed her mother into a back room in the church and found a few dozen people waiting for her.
“Sweet cheeks,” the groom greeted her, “these kind people are eager to fuck you after the wedding.”