Church of the Loli

By WintermuteX
wintermutex.stories@gmail.com

https://www.wintermutexstories.com https://www.wintermutexstories.org https://www.asstr.org/~Wintermutex/

Content: Young Girls, Marriage, Bridal, Pedophilia, Pregnancy

Prequel: Sex Ed for Little Girls

It was funny, I thought, how nervousness could sharpen the senses. Standing there next to the altar, I was nervous enough for 10 men, with my heart thundering in my chest and my hands plucking nervously at my cufflinks. I looked up, trying to blink away the tiny drop of sweat that had made its way into my eyes, and my blurry gaze settled on the wide shaft of sunlight beaming through the stained-glass window of the church: the colorful image of the Young Goddess, naked and innocent, her beauty streaming down in swaths of rose-gold and yellow to play over the crowd of assembled guests. The last few were finally taking their seats, and my anxiety took on an even sharper edge as I looked out over the sea of friends and family, their smiles beaming back at me. Even more guests had come to my wedding than I had expected, but it was no trouble; the church could accommodate them all.

The priest was a silent presence to my left, his book held open and ready as the music began to play. I tugged at the collar of my tuxedo, trying to remember to breathe. It wasn't every day a man got hitched, and my restless brain was busy drumming up all the ways I could bollocks this up - from dropping a ring to fumbling my vows. But as the beautiful orchestral music swelled, I forced my breathing to slow, my racing heart to calm. Nothing would go wrong. It was the best day of my life. Just breathe, and everything would be fine.

The processional had begun. My father appeared through the big set of double doors and approached the altar before taking a seat in the front row, and then my brother did the same. My father fixed me with an approving smile but my brother gave me a cheeky grin and a suggestive gesture as he sat in the pew next to his wife - Eric had always been a bit of a joker, and he probably figured he owed me one after the rowdy speech I had made at his own wedding the year before.

A few more friends and family strode up the aisle, finding their seats, before the flower girl appeared right on queue. She was a lovely little thing, a 6 years old cousin of mine, with her flaxen hair braided into layers and wearing a childlike grin atop a sheer dress of powder blue that flared at the hips and trailed down into an elaborate skirt of swishing petticoats. True to the modern style for girls, it had a sheer satiny top that shimmered fluidly in the light, giving an easy view of her flat chest and adorable little nipples. In the tradition of the church, a girl's bared breasts were twin beacons of the signs of virtuous love that the church revered: Beauty and Honesty. Beauty, of the kind found so bountifully in the innocence and devotion of children, and Honesty, in admitting the truth of our human natures, our strengths and weakness, and especially our true desires for all that we found lovely in the world. Her skirt, puffy at the hips and rear, was bare and open in the front as well, revealing her sweet little cunny for everyone to see, its exhibition a demonstration of the third and final pillar of virtue in the church: the love and unity that draws us all together, the devotion and the pleasure of consummation for every pair of lovers that desired each other, regardless of age or even familial relation. A little girl's bare pussy was a reminder that the church blessed all who practiced love towards each other, and encouraged every opportunity to prove it with the sacred carnal act that was as old as our species.

The flower girl stood to the side when she reached the front, trying to hide a girlish giggle with her gloved hand. My heart was racing again, the music swelling, scales rising up one after the other and reaching for a glorious crescendo. This was it. My hands were clenching. My chest thumped. My throat felt crooked when I swallowed. The music drove on and on, and just when I wondered if there was some problem with the bride, she appeared as the swelling organ reached its high note.

Elegant. Majestic. Beautiful beyond measure. My mind twitched under a multitude of admiring phrases, eyes fixed inexorably upon my bride. Abigail! My breath had caught, my heart stopped after a single powerful drumbeat, time holding still in the church as if mesmerized by the beauty that had graced it. Her dress was pure white, immaculate, her eyes dark brown pools that snared me even from across the room as she caught my eye. Transfixed, I stared, as if peering into the glittering facets of a jewel.

After a cautious step, she began sweeping down the aisle in her dress like a princess from a storybook. The long locks of her dark, curled hair swayed in time, framing the view of her delicate breasts through the sheer satin top, the jewels in her diadem sparkling in the streaming light from the stained-glass window.

And then she was beside me, just opposite the priest, face bursting with the lovely, luscious smile that had so captured my heart. Abigail. It had taken barely any time before I realized I loved her. I had first met my daughter's friend after school, when she had graced my household after their classes let out with the dubious goal of needing to study together. I hazily remembered my jaw being slack, seeing Abby cross the kitchen for the first time, and snapping it closed at a razor quip of my daughter's wit. I think she knew then. Maybe she had planned it, bringing the lovely girl in my presence, knowing how I'd react, how my desire would take hold. She of all people would have known. My 12-year-old friend from school - just the gift for dear old dad.

This train of thought played lazily against the nervous screen of my mind, my jitters coming to the fore again as the music swelled a second time. My gaze snapped away from Abigail's beauty with a popping of my neck I swear the whole church could have heard, fixing on the rose-garland framed entryway again just as the shimmering veil parted again.

And there she was. My second bride. Grace, my daughter, the first and greatest love of my life. 10 years old and painfully blonde, with lovely pale blue eyes and a perfect slender frame. When was it our relationship had begun? About 6 years old, I thought, when her needs had first become clear. It wasn't too unusual these days, familial coupling as soon as the urges first began in a young girl. I had taken her to bed then and showed her the act of love, fulfilling her desire, and we had been the perfect pair ever since.

Her smile was full but timid, her stance regal but humble, a casually lovely air she had always carried effortlessly as she grew into her preteen beauty. She began to walk slowly down the aisle. 10 years old now - a dizzying 4 years since that night - and now I was finally making her honest. The tiniest tear had formed in the corner of her eye, a sparkle betrayed as she tried to blink it away, her hands busy with the bouquet she held. She had hinted, and I had finally got the message. She wanted to marry me, her Daddy, the man she had been head-over-heels in love with for years, and now the special day, the holy day, had finally arrived.

All eyes in the audience tracked her as she mounted the step and took her place opposite me, a step behind Abby. It was traditional in the church to order according to age when marrying, and we had talked about it at length beforehand. Ultimately she agreed to second place, even though we had been together the longest, because she didn't want Abigail to in any way feel she was a second choice for me. She loved her friend, just as she loved me, and she didn't mind giving up a little prestige to give her co-wife the honor of standing directly next to her new husband on the big day.

My eyes had followed Grace to her place, then dropped to her belly as she held a hand there. Her dress was revealing, a sexy take on the traditional form just as Abby's was, the nipples of both girls barely visible under the filigree satin of their tops - the common style these days for little girls getting hitched. But it was the obvious bump of her belly, a place where the dress had been let out generously, that drew my eye. Grace patted her pregnant belly, and gave me a wink; she was doing fine, no discomfort. Her Daddy's baby growing in her belly was sound asleep. I let out a relieved sigh. It hadn't been much of a surprise when she caught - after all, when you're giving it to your daughter multiple times a day every day, nature was going to take its course. She would be the first of my wives to have my child. Abby had missed too, last month, and it was the reason both girls wore the crowns of white roses. Church symbolism anointed the non-virgin girls with the white, and virgins with the red, in a tradition whose origin was mystifyingly lost to time. But the message was clear - these little girls were no stranger to the act of carnal love that the church held in such high esteem.

So enraptured was I by the sight of my two lovely brides that I almost missed the swelling of the music for the final time. I suddenly snapped my glare to the entrance just in time to see her emerge.

Little Sally stood shyly, her bouquet trembling, almost cowering under the barrage of gazes from the assembled audience. Her eyes scanned the room until she saw me, Abby, and Grace at the front, at which point her gaze firmed and she took her first step towards us. She was sparkling, her dress adorned with sequined glittering points that made her shimmer like a jewel in the streaming light of the auditorium. She was blonde and blue-eyed just like Grace, and the shocking smile that I swore could move a man to tears finally found its way onto her face as she picked up her pace, walking straight down the aisle towards the altar. A crown of red roses adorned her hair, flaring ruby that contrasted with the pristine satin white of her dress. It was sensually cut, rather revealing in the same way Abby and Grace's dresses were, and a strip of sheer satin banded her chest so her nipples and flat breasts could be seen by everyone there. Beauty, and Honesty. She had those in spades, and her magnificent heart-melting smile to back them up. Her eyes flicked between me and Abigail - seeing her older sister waiting at the altar, encouraging her with a welcoming grin.

Sally and Abby had come as a package. Abigail knew her 6-year-old sister was showing the urges, and flatly said she would refuse any offer from me that didn't include her darling little sis. I said it was Sally's decision too, and so we arranged a meeting. And then another. And another. I had found little Sally charming, her smile mesmerizing. It had only taken a few days before I agreed and popped the question to them both. The red roses announced to the world that I hadn't yet had the satisfaction of pushing balls deep into this girl's 6-year-old cunny - a testament to the whirlwind schedule of planning this wedding - but that that would soon change as soon as we were hitched.

Sally took a short step, pulling at the hem of her dress to adjust it while she kept walking. I smiled at her, admiring the shining majesty of her beauty. We had taken a little extra time choosing the right dress she wanted - sparkly, apparently - but it had been worth it. Of course, the murderous price of all three dresses had caused me no small amount of pain, but it was normal these days, when sweet little girls got married. The price was a consequence of the special functions of all the dresses.

Finally, with one last shy glance upward, Sally stepped up to join us, taking her place after Grace, farthest from me. I tried to give the nervous little girl a calming smile and a nod, though I wasn't sure it helped. But she had agreed. She was here. She was about to be married - to me, and to her co-brides. I think it was all a bit overwhelming for her age, but despite the slight tremor in her hand, she held her chin high as the priest began to speak.

"This year, our beloved and holy church celebrates her 60th anniversary", he said, his voice aloft and singing in the space of the auditorium. "As we stand here today, prepared to bond together this man and these girls in the bonds of holy matrimony, we reflect on how, long ago, such a love would not have been possible. For a love such as this, people would have held such anger and strife in their hearts. Persecution and denial were the hallmarks of those times, bitter sins that kept lovers apart and rendered such a precious matrimony as this impossible."

The words of his sonorous voice passed by me unremarked, for my mind was full to bursting with the sight of my three lovely brides. My eyes flicked between them, unable to decide which one was more lovely or pleased me the most. Abigail, sweet and smart and beautiful, with a delightful desire to please. A remarkable wife for any man. My daughter Grace, a girl I knew so well that we could finish each other's sentences. Lovely and quirky and more than a bit precocious, and a perfect fit for me in every way. And sweet little Sally, the girl I knew the least, but for the burning fact that I knew I loved her. Loved her timid little gait, the bashful glances, and the smile that lit up a room like sunshine when she brought it out.

"We are privileged to live in these times," the priest droned on, "with that dark age firmly behind us, now able to bask in the holy light of the church and the favor of our eternally young goddess. The old sins that held the people in bondage have been washed away by the Transformation, the perfect gift of the divine that brought humanity into a new age of enlightenment, a new age of pleasure, a new age of love. And so we gather here today in celebration and somber duty, to join these lovers together, that their love may grow unfettered by sin, unbound by small-mindedness, unencumbered by old superstition."

I caught myself nodding. I had never really been very religious, but my decision to join the church - a relatively new offshoot of mainstream humanist thought - had been one of my best. Its rapid growth in recent decades was almost inevitable. The shocking transformation wrought by HTV - the Human Transformation Virus, which brought with it remarkable changes in human sexual behavior and need - had sowed strife all over the globe and nearly caused the collapse of worldwide human society. The virus, as it slowly spread over the course of a decade, seemingly unstoppable and uninhibited by any efforts to control it, had caused completely unprecedented epigenetic changes in the genome of those it infected. It had been slightly before my time, of course, but every schoolchild knew the history of those days like the back of their hands.

The major behavioral and pathological effects of the viral plague were threefold. First, girls began to develop overwhelming sexual urges at very young ages. 6 was the most common age to develop such behavior but it could potentially be a little younger or older. Repression of these urges had invariably been found to be hugely detrimental to the health of a girl.

Second, subtle chemical changes to the semen of men proved to be essential to the ongoing health of girls at these ages. Semen - whether ingested orally or entering the body through the mucous membranes of the vagina or anus, had overwhelming health benefits for the girl, and the lack of it led to a tremendously deleterious malaise that impacted every aspect of a girl's health. Simply - girls needed semen now. Multiple times a day, preferably. The more the better.

Finally, baffling genetic shifts which still seemed to flabbergast scientists today led to a complete disappearance of any and all incestual conception.

Three changes, at once so fundamentally simple, and simultaneously so overwhelmingly threatening to a social order based on taboo and bad science. Three changes, but humanity had done seemingly everything it could to stop them. Drugs to inhibit sexual urges. Issuing semen rations daily, to be drunk in a non-sexual manner of course, by the girls. Every effort to deny and repress - it had nearly destroyed us. I was very glad none of these girls I loved had had to live during those dark times. Sinful times, according to the new doctrine of the church, which aimed to fully cleanse its members of old taboos and hangups.

It still made me a little dizzy to think about how society used to be - when a man like me would have been run out on a rail or locked up for putting a baby inside his little girl or marrying three girls 12 and under. How did people survive back then? Well, I tried to put the thoughts from my mind as the priest went on.

"We remember that, although these young girls have passed the beginning of their sexual awakening, they are still children, and deserve the firm and loving guidance of a mentor to see them through the tumultuous waters of childhood and into the women they will become."

The priest's oration was perfect, words ringing powerfully in the church. More than a few people had distant looks on their faces, perhaps reflecting on the same things I had been.

"We acknowledge that a husband's duties in this area can be far more demanding than in times past, and as you are to become adoptive father to two of these girls in addition to their husband, we now ask for the consent of their birth fathers that their minds, bodies, and souls pass from the care of one to the next."

On queue, the father of Abby and Sally stood up. He seemed a handsome man, elderly, immaculate in his pressed suit, standing with a confident stature in the second row.

"Do you, Alex, father of Abigail and Sally, consent to their hand in marriage, and the passing of their care to this man?"

"I do." He sat down perfunctorily.

"We do ask now of the new father and husband of these girls, for his holy and solemn vow of care."

I cleared my throat nervously, then spoke.

"I Mark Williams, vow to fulfill completely my roles as father and husband of my new wives."

The priest intoned the next part of the vow.

"Do you pledge to love and honor and care for each of them in their growth as a child?"

"I do so pledge to love and honor and care for each of them."

"Do you pledge to support them in their education and studies?"

"I do." I forced the words past the nervous knot in my throat. The church put great stock in the assumption of these responsibilities.

"Do you pledge to support each of them in their emotional and physical well-being? To supply each of them with all of the love and all of the satisfaction of her sexual desires that a growing girl needs?"

"I do," I repeated. The nervous knot threatened to twist itself tighter. I was sweating, staring down at my girls, my new brides, feeling the weight of my commitment to them. In this world, you could marry anyone you wanted, child or otherwise, but the church put specific emphasis on some things during matrimony, in fulfillment of its perceived duty to ensure no child was ever neglected. Becoming father and husband at the same time was a heavier burden than becoming a husband alone.

The priest gave an inviting wave of his hand. "You may now pledge your vows to your brides."

I stepped forward slightly. Saliva pooled in the cancorous knot in my throat until I forced myself to relax and took a deep breath. I could hear the distant snapping of the wedding photographer's camera, click click click, capturing this moment for us forever.

"I, Mark, take you, Abigail, Grace, and Sally, to be my beloved wives, to have and to hold each of you, to honor you, to treasure you, to provide for all your needs and service all your desires, to be at your sides in sorrow and in joy, in the good times, and in the bad, and to love and cherish each of you always. I promise you this from my heart, Abigail, Grace, and Sally, for all the days of my life."

It was the traditional vow of matrimony in the church, embellished only slightly, but I swear I saw three sets of glistening teardrops in that moment as each of the girls looked back at me.

The priest turned to the brides and waved his hand as he did for me.

"You may now pledge your vows to your husband."

Grace stepped forward, a thin piece of paper in her trembling hand. "We have written a shared vow that I will read."

The priest nodded, stepping back.

Grace took a deep breath, looking like she had swallowed a frog. I could see how nervous she was - no less nervous than I was, for sure - but as she looked down at the paper and then back up at me, a firm resolve took over.

"Daddy, we pledge to love and honor you forever, to care for you as a husband, to obey you as a father, to fulfill your every need as completely as we can. We will be there for you and support you and service you with our minds and hearts and especially our bodies in every way you could possibly want."

An impish grin chased across her face at that remark, fought and replaced by the solemn look once again. A few quick chuckles rang out of the crowd in the dignified silence.

"We pledge to be your loving and faithful wives and daughters, to uphold you in the good times and the bad, to be at your side no matter what befalls us, to always love and care for and adore you as long as we all live."

The sincerity of her smile as she finished was plain. She loved her Daddy, had wished for this moment for years. And the sweet grins of both of the other girls was no less lovely. I almost lost myself in them, forgetting for a moment that there was still something left to do until the priest cleared his throat.

I took the black velvet case from my pocket, opening it to produce 3 small golden rings. Each was engraved inside with a special pledge I had made to each girl. I moved forward and knelt down, slipping the rings onto each of their fingers in turn, then standing back. Grace had the case with my ring in it - they had agreed she could have the honor of putting the ring on my finger. It was gold, thick, with 3 entwined lines of finely engraved filigree around the band. Like the others, I had had it made special. My daughter looked at me, took a visible breath, then took my hand and slipped the ring on my finger.

"What love had joined together today, let no man or woman part," rang the priest's voice. "You may now kiss the brides."

Abigail blushed and tittered as I bent to kiss her, my hand touching her waist. Grace giggled and squealed slightly, bouncing ever so slightly on her tall high heels. Sally looked up at me, lips slightly parted, wearing a bashful gaze as she peered into my eyes. I bent to kiss her passionately, letting her feel my touch on her dress, the pressure of my lips. She was gasping slightly, eyes closed, a smile blooming on her face when I was done.

Cheers and applause erupted when we turned to face our audience. My father was wiping a tear with a handkerchief, the sentimental old codger. Eric was hooting and hollering as he clapped. The father and mother of the brides were wearing wide, happy smiles. As the music began again, my brides and I began moving together, descending the steps with my Grace on my left and both of the other girls on my right, hands clasped together. I could feel the goofy grin I must have been wearing plastered on my face. Funny, at some point my nervousness had gone away, replaced by the most exquisite relief and joy I had ever felt. I looked down to both sides at my brides, seeing bright smiles on all of them, looked up and saw the same happiness worn by everyone in the audience.

At last, the music and applause following us loudly, we reached the entrance of the chapel, where we had all emerged individually for this day. And now, holding the hands of my new wives, we passed through again, this time as a family.

The reception was in full swing when we arrived. After a brief interlude to catch our breath, during which the guests had been seated, we were beckoned in by the MC and announced.

"Ladies and gentlemen, I present, the new mister and missuses Williams!"

I scanned the assembled party. The banquet room was quite full, with our numerous guests arrayed around several round tables decked with white drapery. Our own four seats were elevated above the main floor, ensuring that everyone in the party would have a good view of the brides and groom. The guests all stood in honor of our entrance, cheers and catcalls ringing out amidst wild applause. Eric was up front, hooting and leering at my new brides. The bastard. I expected nothing less. He cupped his hands around his mouth and began calling:

"Take it off! Take it off!"

I stared at him. My brother was always a lecherous pervert. He was probably drunk already. Scattered laughter rang out as the chant was picked up by the crowd.

"Take it off! Take it off!"

The call grew strength, a loud force directed at my brides, who were blushing slightly now. I stood back so they had center stage; this was their moment. As their hands began the busy work of undressing, the crowd dissolved into cheers.

I smiled. This was one of my favorite new traditions among young girls. It was only a few years old, but all of the girls had wanted to do it, and though I had balked slightly at the increased cost of the dresses, I knew secretly it would be worth it.

Abigail, Grace, and Sally began to pull off parts of their dresses. The heavy trains. The thick silk waistcoats. It was all designed to come off in elaborate pieces, bit by bit. The girls giggled, helping each other, getting into it as they stripped down. As scandalous as the dresses had been, they became even more so as the girls shed individual parts, revealing sheer satin silks, tight-fitting boudoir-style undergarments as sexy as they were revealing. Each girl's new garb was as unique as the dress itself. Abigail's had see-through cups for her tiny breasts, and sheer floral panels that swept down past a belt of white satin to her crotch, leaving her hips and sides bare. Grace's outfit was a sheer skin-tight teddy, the fabric worked in places with elaborate white designs and the whole affair leaving little to the imagination about the girl's body. The swell of her pregnant belly was plainly evident. Sally's was just as cute, resembling a worked chemise of shining white satin, belted at the hips, and flaring to a thin skirt of gauzy fabric that was gathered at the hips but open at the front. My eyes traveled them up and down, relishing the sight, as did everyone in the crowd. More applause and cheers of approval rang out at the sexy appearance of the new brides. Each of the girls had kept their veils and crowns of roses. They giggled under the attention, grinning at the crowd, at each other, smoothing the revealing bridal lingerie that had been specially cut and fit just for them.

The ceremony completed, we all took our seats, signaling our guests to do the same. Waiters began to circulate immediately, plopping down dishes in front of each of us. The girls dug in hungrily, though Sally seemed slightly more reticent, as if distracted, picking each piece of her roast duck with care before forking it into her mouth. The waiters moved on to pouring the wine, and once everyone had a full glass, I stood up and tapped my fork to my own glass as I held it up to get their attention.

"Ladies and gentlemen," I began. "Thank you so much for coming. It truly means a great deal to all of us. It's not every day a man finds himself lucky enough to be wed to three such lovely little brides" - I leered at each of the girls as I said it - "and sometimes I confess it feels like a bit of a dream. How could I be so lucky to be loved by not just one wonderful girl, but three?"

I scanned them all, feeling a surge of desperate exhilaration. I truly was the luckiest man in the world. I had to clear my throat before proceeding.

Each of them is so delightful, so captivating in their own right. Abigail," I said, looking down at her alone, "you are the world to me. Your beautiful body and your generous spirit occupies my every thought. From the moment I realized I first loved you, I have been waiting for this day, to make you my wife and make you as happy as you have made me."

Abigail smiled, sniffing slightly, brushing away a teardrop. I turned to Grace.

"Baby girl, we've been together body and soul for years, completing each other in such special ways like only a daddy and his daughter can do. You are my stars and sky, the wonder I feel every day when I realize how lucky of a father I am. Your love completes me perfectly."

Grace gawked for a brief instant, unused to me being so flowery, but she quickly regained her composure, smiling widely before putting her hands to her mouth, eyes shining with happiness.

"A little Sally," I said, turning to the youngest of my brides. "You are my sunrise, my bright shining warmth. When I see you I feel something beautiful and amazing dawning inside me, a warmth of my love for you I scarcely know how to express." Sally gazed at me timidly, but with a slowly dawning smile that beamed like the sun. "Together we will discover a new life of happiness for us both," I finished.

I turned to address the guests.

"Today I've professed my love for these three young girls, promised to fulfill them in every possible way. To satisfy their needs." I let the words hang, looking down at my girls, feeling a lecherous smirk rise on my face.

"And ladies and gentlemen, as I looked at my three new brides, my three lovely, luscious, enchanting little cumsluts, I find all I can think about is how beautiful they are, how sweet and lovely their bodies are, and how I'm going to enjoy fucking their brains out night and day!"

The silence held for only a moment once I finished before the assembled guests began cheering wildly. Whoops and laughter rang out, and I raised my glass over the clamor of it all so I could be heard.

"Get this party started!" I shouted. "Let's drink!"

Everyone cheered, and the sound dimmed only slightly as each of the guests drank their wine. I followed suit, downing the glass.

"Consummate!" Someone yelled out bawdily. "Consummate!" Cheers and hollering followed in a boisterous clamor. I looked to my side where Grace was sitting, catching her smiling up at me with a fiendish grin.

I felt her hand on my pants, reaching for my zipper and pulling it down as I leaned back in the seat. This was one of the most cherished traditions of the church, as one of the precepts of the Loli Bible was that a holy union should be consummated as quickly as possible. Many guests that married in the church had taken that meaning quite literally, until the sacred act of Consummation had become expected and then even encouraged at any post-ceremony festivities.

Slowly, with an erotic grin of expectation, my daughter reached into the gap in my pants she had created to pull out my rapidly hardening cock. She looked down at it with a lascivious glare of desire, feeling her Daddy's need harden and thicken in her hand. There wasn't any tradition or precept which said which bride had to be fucked first in a multiple marriage, but somehow I had known it would be Grace. I had learned very early on how insatiable she could be. Somehow, no matter how many times a day she got her Daddy's cock stuffed in one of her tight holes, it was never enough.

Abigail and Sally watched as my daughter lowered her head, tongue darting out to caress the tip of my cock with its edge. Gently, slowly, she used her tongue to spread saliva across my glans until it took on a gooey shine.

"See?" she said, looking up and smirking at both of the other girls, though it was mostly for Sally's benefit. "He likes it like that first, nice and wet."

"Why don't you face our guests?" I suggested, nodding at the room. Grace smirked at me, then turned around to sit on my lap. My hands guided her sides as my daughter climbed up higher, raising herself slightly, giving space for my cock to get between us by guiding it with one hand. The slit right at the crotch of her bridal lingerie gaped slightly, invitingly, as Grace positioned my head right at it. All the girl's outfits would be like this, I knew - either pantyless or with easy access for their new husband to do the deed quickly.

Slowly, delicately, Grace lowered herself onto my cock, a slight tremble rising from heels to scalp as she did so. My cock flexed slightly, then popped into the sweet warmth of my daughter's pussy. Ohhhhh yes, god that felt good. I slipped a hand around her, resting it on the thin satin over the pregnant bulge of her belly, let my other hand duck under the silk of her top, finding her sweet little nipple and tweaking it with my fingers. Grace squeaked, that lovely little feminine lilt of surprised pleasure I knew so well, while the rest of my engorged cock sunk to the hilt in my daughter bride.

The rest of the banquet carried on as if nothing was happening, except Eric, who threw a lecherous glance my way and raised his wine glass as I began fucking my daughter. He took a deep drink of his wine after doing so, and I scanned the room to make sure the rest of my guests were doing the same. With the help of the waiters I had slipped a little something into the wine beforehand - just a common pharmaceutical to give a little kick to the activities. Stallion was available over the counter in most places, a wonderful little miracle that kicked impotence to the curb and enhanced pleasure for everyone who took it. Men would last longer and climax repeatedly, girls would have better and more frequent orgasms. It wasn't uncommon to drop a little S before a night of festivities, so I didn't feel bad ensuring my guests had some; they would appreciate it. Pharmaceuticals had advanced far enough for such drugs to be widely available, and they were remarkably safe and effective.

Grace had sunk to the hilt on my prick, moaning as she did so, and began bouncing slightly. Keeping her steady with hands on her hips, I just leaned back to enjoy the ride. As a father, I knew very well the exquisite pleasure of being balls-deep in my own daughter - that sumptuous, overwhelmingly erotic and fulfilling feeling of fucking my own offspring. Grace had felt the turn when she was 6, when I found her madly frigging herself after school one day on her bed, skirt pulled up, little blouse open, panting in climax.

I had taken her in hand as a good father should, fulfilling her needs until she was satisfied, and then having "the talk" that every little girl needs. There was a school curriculum - "Sexual Orientation, Education, and Fulfillment" - or SOEF for short, that girls usually started at that age as soon as they needed to. So after calling in sick to work the next day and giving my daughter a health heaping of dick in all her wanton little holes, leaving her leaking semen like a shot-up gallon of milk, I had placed a call to her school to get her started in classes the next week. Girls needed guidance, needed understanding and education about what was happening to them, as well as proper instruction in sexual technique so they didn't hurt themselves trying to take a cock in their throat or their ass untrained.

And Grace's training had been quite pleasurable, I had to admit, eyeing the little slut as she began to stroke up and down on me. The insatiable cravings of little girls were well known by now, in the post-HTV world, and it was expected that a father, brother, uncle, or anyone available would be able to guide and satisfy a girl who would need it. Those with special needs, such as those without ready access to willing males, could sign up for special government doles, men who would volunteer to fuck little girls to keep them happy and healthy. Not that my little girl or my brides would ever need such a thing - I was a good father, and I aimed to keep being one by fucking all three of my little wives constantly.

It all went back to the chaos in the wake of HTV, society having to learn new, hard lessons. That little girls wanted to be fucked - needed to be fucked. That cumming in them was essential to their health. That male family members were the best-equipped to do so. Society could simply no longer afford to find anything deviant in the act, and the realization of its new commitments tore many communities apart before they could be accepted.

Grace was a sight, a picturesque beauty, head thrown back, veil dangling, mouth open with girlish moans as she fucked herself on her new Daddy-husband's cock. I wondered if there was anything more lovely in the world than such a sight. Girls like her had a name for people like me, usually spoken with wild giggling - DaddyHubby. I had graduated to the title proudly for the sake of my little girl.

Shudders of pleasure began to race up my body. I watched my sweet little angel from behind, seeing her veil bobbing up and down, reveling in the exquisite clench of 10-year-old pussy that gripped my cock with juicy fervor. God, she felt wonderful. Grace, my baby girl, my fuckbuddy, my little cock-hungry cum-junkie who needed her Daddy's stiff dick inside her every day to be happy. My hands gripped her waist more tightly, bobbing her up and down, giving her tiny body a slight bump up and down in the chair as we fucked.

Through the hazy glaze of pleasure, I could see my guests getting into the action too.The man of the hour gets first crack at his brides of course, but once he's cum once with everyone watching, everyone else was welcome to join.. Many of the assembled friends and family were already having a bit of fun with their own wives. Paul, a friend from work, had his little 13-year-old girl on his lap, bouncing her up and down slightly as they ground together. He would be inside her as soon as I finished, I knew. He was crazy about his new wife, a flaxen-haired little vixen with enchanting green eyes and long hair curling over her shoulders delectably. Jonathan, a longtime acquitance-turned-friend after I had attended his own wedding, was sitting with one of his wives on either side of him, their dresses pushed down to their waists to expose their bare chests. Twin sisters. He alternated between them, fondling, cupping the tiny 12-year-old breasts, enjoying himself with abandon. He was quite the lucky man, bagging such a cute little pair of twins for himself, and the ceremony at his wedding had been much like my own. Others were joining in the fun too. A grandfather had his granddaughter in a chair close to him as he rubbed her chest and hips. A mother held her young daughter on her lap - a little nymphet of about 8 I supposed - while brother and father gave her loving attention from either side. She looked like a sweet young thing, sporting a cute little purple strapless dress that was being pulled down for easier access to the males. Even the flower girl - daughter to a couple I had known for years - had her powder-blue dress skirt hiked up with her father's hand rummaging in her panties as they both grinned at each other.

Grace was close to climax, and so was I. I gave myself up to the exquisite feeling of tight pussy, the rapture of little girl cunt stroking on my prick. I tightened my grip on her hips, feeling the approach of a ferocious climax, and then let my hand slip down to raise up her thighs. Grace squealed as she rocked back, sinking even more deeply onto my stroking cock. I held up her legs, her white high heels on full display for the crowd as her legs rocked and bucked, and began fucking her in long, sumptuous strokes. She cried out, helpless as I used gravity to piston in and out of her, mewling in desperate frenzy as she writhed on the helpless spear of her father's manhood. I bucked her harder, whipping her up and down, chair rocking, giving a nice view for the crowd. Let them see me fuck my little girl! My angel! My wife and my beloved! A crescendo rose inside me as my orgasm roared like a vortex, sweeping me into it.

Dimly from the side, I could feel the eager gazes of both Abgail and Sally, waiting their turns. Let them see what they were in for. A tangled garble escaped my throat as I suddenly climaxed in my daughter, rocking her down and impaling her so hard on my throbbing prick that she shrieked in ecstasy. Her legs, held aloft in the air by my hands, jerked wildly. Her torso twitched, wracked by spasms of pleasure, and her head rocked back onto my shoulder violently, the girl gibbering wildly as she felt the flood of her DaddyHubby's cum fountain up inside her. I held the squirming girl tightly, balls clenching, a firestorm of pleasure racing to my brain like electric quicksilver and exploding when it reached it. Stars erupted behind my eyes, swirling gouts of matter fountaining and ejecting wildly into space, mirroring the feel of the white-hot magma I was squirting deep into my pregnant daughter. My cock twitched like a lightning rod, shooting jet after jet of baby batter into my little angel, gouts of viscous love splattering repeatedly into the tight, confined space of her pussy until it was a wonder her little stomach wasn't bulging any further.

Gently, like a paratrooper gliding in after stuck in a hurricane, my orgasm abated. Grace still shuddered through the tail end of hers on my lap, wilting now, the strength leeched out of her even as my cock softened slightly in the tight plug of her vagina.

"Awwwww Daddyyyyyy…" she cooed silkenly, head lolling back on my shoulder. "God, if I wasn't pregnant already that would have done it."

"Only the best for my wife." I nuzzled her ear and hair. Her veil was askew. Her gloves hopelessly wrinkled now and her little crown of white roses drooping down on one ear. Slowly, I let her feet down to the floor, then helped her up onto shaking legs, my cock slipping from her pussy with a familiar "plurp".

Little Sally had been leaning forward, watching intently as Grace and I fucked. Her food seemed forgotten. Abby was smiling, nodding at Grace as the girl wobbled back to her chair. Leaving my cock standing proud and still erect, I caught Abigail's eyes, matching her smile and nodding towards my prick in invitation.

She didn't waste any time. Abby was such a peach, responsible and eager and always ready to take my cock in her. She stood up from her chair and I helped her get in position, throwing her leg and sitting in my lap facing me. I figured she would want to - she loved missionary position, anything where she could see me when I came, she had said. Apparently that got her off like nothing else, seeing the face of a grown man as he came inside her. She pushed the thin strip of her little silk panties aside, raising herself up and letting me position my cock, staring into my eyes as prepared to fuck her new husband. With a soft, delicate groan, she sank down, a sweet smile of bliss dawning on her face as my prick entered her little 12-year-old cunt.

Since the suspected setup with Abigail, I had wasted little time getting to know this girl better. The girls had "studied" for all of half an hour, before coming out of Grace's room and saying they were hungry. I took them to dinner, immediately falling head over heels with my daughter's older friend, enjoying her luscious walk, pleasing thighs, and the way she tilted her head innocently when she smiled. We had flirted as we got to know each other during the meal, then on the ride home Abby had watched from the back seat as Grace gave me her traditional blowjob du jour that she liked after dinner. She had never cared much for sweet desserts, preferring instead the salty squirt of semen into her mouth. I could tell how turned on Abigail was, watching us, her hand dipping beneath her skirt for a little self-play as she watched my daughter's head bobbing on her Daddy's throbbing prick. When we got home, we had transferred to some group play on the couch, Abigail gently acquiescing as my hands dipped into her panties and found the delicate preteen snatch sopping wet just beneath.

One thing had led to another, and before I knew it we were on the bed, Grace holding her friend's head in her lap as her Daddy plowed balls-deep into the girl's fresh little cunny. Things had progressed quickly after that night, and I wondered how much of it my little girl had planned when she introduced me to her friend.

And I was thankful, I realized, as my new wife began bobbing up and down on my cock, back to the crowd, her little veil swishing as she warbled a slight mewling sound of erotic satisfaction. Not that Grace hadn't been enough for me, but variety was the spice of life, and there had been enough pleasing variation between Grace and Abby to keep things very spicy in bed between all of us.

Out in the crowd, I saw a woman stand up, her eyes scanning the room. Meredith, Abby's mom. Things had gotten slightly boisterous now that I had cum in my frist bride as ceremony demanded, but as she tapped her crystal glass of wine people slowly gave her their attention.

"We're so happy to be here today," she began, "on this most joyous occasion of our daughter's wedding. Both of our little girls have taken the first step on a wondrous journey, a journey of love, commitment, and satisfaction."

Her eyes slipped up to the main table where I was fucking her daughter, one of the little girls in question. She gave us a happy smile.

"It was a long time ago, but when Alex and I first got together, things were very dicey." She looked down to where her elderly husband sat beside her, looking as if he might doze off, and smacked his shoulder. "Hey! Wake up you old coot! It's your daughter's big day!"

He grunted and looked around, slightly bleary-eyed. I think the wine had had an ample effect on him. Some scattered laughter rang out as Meredith continued.

"Anyway. It was shortly after HTV, and like a lot of young girls I was suddenly feeling the need, harshly. He was my piano teacher at the time. I still remember how difficult it was - and how scared I had been - trying to keep my relationship with him secret. I was old enough to know what would happen to a man caught doing what we were doing. It never made much sense to me. I knew another man at the time, my gym coach, that had been found out, and watching as he was arrested and nearly torn apart by a crowd before he could be carted off to jail terrified me."

There were scattered nods from some of the older attendees. They remembered the tribulations of those times, when society still couldn't tolerate the relationships between men and young girls.

"But I look back and see how far we have come." She looked down at her drowsy husband, smiling. "In the decades since, crime has almost disappeared. Afflictions like depression are down, general happiness is up. The church has shown us the way out of our sinful past and into a blessed, beautiful future."

Abigail was still bouncing up and down on me, squeaking slightly with each thrust, not listening to her mom's speech. I held her hands in mine, relishing the sight of my new wife fucking herself on me with abandon. Meredith watched us in the act, fixing us both with a happy smile before continuing.

"Today, instead of being fearful for my little girls and the man they're marrying, we can be happy. HTV really changed so many things, and for the better. Seems like there are so many little girls nowadays, all horny. It's almost more than the men can do to keep up!

Scattered catcalls rang out around the room. Meredith grinned.

"I'm so grateful such relationships don't have to be hidden now. Now, with the blessing of the church, we can all be here, witnessing this sacred union. My daughters are so lucky to be married to such a wonderful man now, one who can do right by her…"

She trailed off, simply watching us, watching as the grown man fucked his tiny child bride, her sweet little daughter. Abigail was panting now, breath heavy, hands tightening on my shoulders as she neared orgasm.

"Hey!" Meredith suddenly shouted at me. "Make sure you fuck my little girls at least 3 times a day each, you hear? Don't slack off!"

Laughter and cheers rang out from the crowd. "And if they're not both pregnant inside 6 months I'll have to send her father over there to do the deed himself until they are!"

More laughter and cheers rang out. Abigail was leaning close to me, her ass pistoning up and down, pussy a plunging engine tightening on my cock.

"She doesn't know yet," Abby panted, grinning. "I think you got me pregnant the first night you fucked me."

"I didn't know I had that much semen in me until that night," I laughed. "Somehow it all ended up in you."

"I couldn't get enough," Abby whispered, her eyes shaded, glazed with pleasure. "I still can't. There's only one thing I still want from you…Daddy."

My hands were on her buttcheeks, joining her motions, forcing her down onto my cock with each stroke. Abby had that breathless, dizzied look on her face that showed she was about to cum. We were both so close. I could hear the general merrymaking going on around the room - including more girlish grunting and squealing as our guests pursued their own sexual pleasure, but I leaned in to hear Abby's panting words."

"I…want…to watch…you-erg, fuck…fuck…fuck-uh!...fuck my little sister! Unnnnngh!"

Abby slammed herself down on me, shaking like a jackhammer, just as I exploded inside. Lightning seared a course from brain to balls as my pumping prick erupted like a firehose. Abigail's delicate frame shuddered against me, my arms wrapped behind her back, holding her tight like she was a fly caught in my web. I could feel thick ropes of sticky jizz blasting up inside the little girl, slamming against her closed womb and pooling into a gooey reservoir of love juice as the throbbing muscles of her cunt twitched in wild convulsions, each pulse sending shocks of thunderous pleasure into the lightning rod of my cock. We held each other, panting and gasping together, husband and wife, Daddy and his new daughter, locked together like one spasming body lost in an ocean of bliss.

My mind drifted down like a feather from a stratosphere of crackling ecstasy, an ocean calming after a storm. It seemed minutes until I could open my heavy eyes, but when I did, I saw Abby staring at me inches away, her white veil cascading down around her hair like a halo, looking into my gaze with a happy smile. We kissed, our lips locking tightly.

Abby sighed and slumped against me when our lips finally broke. She had that lovely just-fucked smile little girls get when they've been satisfied properly by a man. I nuzzled her ear, watching out guests undertake their own shenanigans at the other tables. Everywhere I looked, couples were enjoying each other in a variety of ways - a grandfather bouncing his little granddaughter on his lap, a brother fucking his bent-over little sister, a mother letting her daughter lie back against her as Daddy hiked up her skirt and diddled her little clit. Fantastic. The guests were having a good time, and so was I. I could ask for little else. Waiters filtered among the partygoers, refreshing plates of food and wine. The photographer circled endlessly, capturing special moments with his endless clicking.

"Ahhh…" Abigail stirred slightly, wrapping her arms around my torso as she leaned into me, my softening cock still plugging my sperm in her little cunt. "You've made me so happy. It's like a dream." The slight curls of her dark hair tickled my throat.

"No dream baby. The best is yet to come."

"I know." She giggled. "And I get to watch you fuck Sally. You've wanted to so bad, haven't you?"

"A gentleman never tells," I murmured, looking over at the girl. She looked delicious, seated one seat away from me where she had been sitting on the other side of Abigail. She was chasing a bit of mashed potatoes around her plate with a fork, distracted by something, staring vacantly.

"Something's wrong though," Abby muttered in a low voice. I almost didn't catch it.

"What's that? What is it?" I asked her. Abby's head was resting on my chest, facing away from Sally, but she turned it to catch a glimpse of her sister.

"I don't know but…she's acting a little weird," she whispered. I glanced over at Sally again. She was eating again now. She seemed ok.

"Looks fine to me," I muttered.

"No. Something's wrong. Well…I think it is. She's too quiet. Maybe she's hiding something."

I glanced side-eyed at Sally. Was something wrong? I couldn't see it. Sally appeared perky, scrumptious in her sexy little bridal boudoir outfit. I couldn't wait to fuck my third wife. Before I could say anything else though, a man in the crowd of guests rose up and caught everyone's attention.

"Hello everyone, hello. Um, my name is Michael. I just wanted to say a few words. Oh, don't stop on my account." He nodded at the grandfather with his cock buried in his granddaughter, bouncing the little nymph on his lap. "I'll be quick."

He cleared his throat, looking around, seeming just the slightest bit nervous, but when he started again the jumpy quiver disappeared from his voice quickly.

"There's a framed plaque in my office at the elementary school - it says 'Michael Renner, Celebrated SOEF Educator. I look at it often, feeling a sense of pride when I do. 'Educator'. When it comes to kids, that title means something much different than it did 50 years ago."

He stopped and took a sip of his wine, then continued.

"Teachers used to only concern themselves with the scholastic aspect of their students, caring little for anything else. After HTV, it became apparent that would need to change. Sexual education for our girls was suddenly a dire necessity. Though it took some time, and no small amount of social strife, the SOEF curriculum was finally born and adopted nationwide."

"I have the privilege of having 22 little girls in my classroom this year," he continued, "and it's my joy to guide them through the exploration of their sexual desires and show them how to fulfill them. I know what it's like to be a caregiver." He nodded at me up front, where Abigail and I were resting, the girl still on my lap.

"And I know what it's like to be a father." He nodded down at the girl seated next to him at the table, a sweet little thing of about 15. Camilla, if I remembered right. "Filling both roles is tough - I know the challenge and the demands it puts on a man to strive to be all a little girl needs."

Scattered heads were nodding at his words - those not too preoccupied anyway. Michael stopped to raise his glass of wine, looking at me.

"But if anyone is up to the task, it's Mark. I have no doubt he'll be able to take wonderful care of all of the needs of his three lovely wives. The church tells us the love of a little girl is the highest gift, and you've been thrice blessed. To you, Mark, and the road ahead."

He raised the glass high and doffed it to the cheers of the crowd. I smiled. Michael was an old friend, but still sentimental to the core.

Abby was wiggling now, ready to be let down. I helped her off my cock and back onto her feet with a satisfied sigh. God she was a good fuck. Just as good as my daughter. Speaking of that - I turned my head to look - where was Sally? Her seat was empty.

"Hey," I whispered to Abby, pointing. "Where'd she go?"

"I didn't see her. Uh…that man was talking. I'm not sure where she went."

"Hmmm. Well, stay here a minute." I could see the door just a short ways beyond the empty chair, at the edge of the stage. It was slightly ajar. I took one last look at the guests, seeing them mostly engrossed in their own socializing and sexualizing, and stood up to walk to the door.

It hadn't shut all the way. I pushed it open, seeing a short hallway leading to an alcove with an ornate window that overlooked a corner of the courtyard below. There was a little bench in front of the window, and Sally was sitting on it facing away. I took in the girl, the veil hanging from her hair, the sheer skirt folds draped over the sides of the bench. Was she ok? I shut the door behind me, wanting to talk to her alone.

Sally didn't move as I walked up and took a quiet seat beside her, staring out the window as she was. Below us, a lovely garden of shrubs and flowerbeds bursting with colors provided a compelling view. I let the moment hang in silence for a minute before raising a hand and putting it on Sally's shoulder.

"Hey," I said, my voice gentle. "What's the matter?"

Sally kicked her dangling feet nervously, looking out the window, chewing her lip with a slight frown, but she didn't answer me.

"Sally." I squeezed her shoulder. "You know you can tell me anything, right? Even if it's hard or you think I don't want to hear it. I'll always listen to you, and I'll always be here for you when something is bothering you."

Sally let her head drop, looking down, before looking back up at me. She was upset. Not crying, but I could sense in the glisten of her eyes that she was close.

"It's ok," she said. "You can go back out and join the party. Everyone's having a good time."

"I'm not going anywhere," I said. "Not without you. I wouldn't be having a good time out there if you're not with me."

"You don't need me," she said, frowning. "You just married me because my sister asked. You're probably going to fuck them all the time and forget about me."

"What?!" I struggled to calm my voice, trying to mute my surprise. "No, that's not true. Hey. I'm not going to forget about you Sally." I put my finger to her chin, looking into her eyes. "Ever. You're my wife and my daughter now. That makes you number one to me."

"But I'm not number one, am I?" she mumbled, dropping her gaze. "You looked like you had a lot of fun cumming in Abby. Wouldn't you rather have her ride you again than little old me?"

She was looking down and away again, miserable, unable to meet my gaze. "No!" I said. "Now listen, Sally. We both swore vows back there. You and I, to care for each other no matter what. You are no less precious to me than Grace or your sister. I love you."

"I'm just…just always in Abby's shadow." Sally's legs kicked back and forth nervously. She was looking down at the ring on her finger, twisting it. "Mom and dad always seem to forget about me. They talk about marrying her off all the time. She's the pretty one."

"You're no less attractive than your sister," I said firmly. "And I love you no less than her."

"Yeah, but you've fucked her a bunch of times right?"

"Is that what this is about?" I asked, puzzled. Sally was silent, a grim look on her normally sunny face.

The poor girl. How long had I known her, only a few weeks or so? And Abby months. I had a much stronger relationship with Abigail by now. Poor Sally had agreed to marry me, and I loved her completely, but she must have felt she was being pulled along in the wake of her sister. She hadn't said anything about it.

I sat back, trying to think of what to say. Sally resumed kicking her legs, staring out the window.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't see it. Of course I've known your sister longer than I've known you, and she's had most of my attention. That wasn't fair to you, Sally." I looked down and touched her chin, guiding her to look up at me. "Please forgive me. Can you do that?"

She nodded. "Yeah. Of course." A brief pause as she swallowed the emotion in her throat. "I do love you."

"And I love you," I said, nodding affirmatively, then ducking to give her a kiss on the forehead. "Love can fix anything. Heal anything. If I've been neglecting you Sally, please give me a chance to make it up to you right now."

I could see the gleam building again in her eye now. Not tears, but something else. A subtle, ineluctable urge growing, displacing her gloominess.

"You're my new wife, my new daughter," I said. Sally nodded.

"And I'm going to do something for you, Sally." My voice had the slightest hint of a tease.

"What?" Sally finally replaced her frown with a faint smirk.

"I'm going to pick you up…"

"Oh?"

"And I'm going to take you out there…"

"Really…" she snickered.

"And I'm going to sit down with you in my arms…"

"I like where this is going…" Her smirk had widened into a sunny grin with a twist of horniness lurking behind.

"And I'm going to fuck your brains out."

"With everyone watching?" Her look of mock horror brought a smile to my lips.

"Everyone. Your mom. Your dad. Your sister."

"Especially my sister." Her gleam was devious.

"And I'm going to make you cum so hard every single little girl in that room will be completely jealous of you."

Sally's face lit up like the sun, like I had just promised her the best present in the world. She leaped to her feet and threw her arms around me, hugging tightly. I made good on my words and scooped her up, getting to my feet in one smooth motion. She was so light, just a little slip of a girl, 6 years old and slender in her own right. But oh, so beautiful I thought, looking into her face as I carried her away from the window. I turned and hit the crash bar of the door with my butt to open it, carrying Sally in my arms still, the girl giggling madly.

Cheers came from the crowd as I re-emerged with my bride. Grace had a wide grin on her face. Abigail had a smile of relief. Sally tittered girlishly as I took my seat again, maneuvering the sweet little nymph on my lap. God, she was lovely. Sunny golden hair, eyes blue like the ocean, the meager covering of her bridal lingerie shining sensually as the white satin caught the light.

I leaned forward to kiss her, feeling her lips return the pressure eagerly as I used one hand to fish my aching cock back out again from my pants. I had been looking forward to this for as long as I knew this girl. Abby and Grace, I knew every twist, every spasm of their tight little cunts, but Sally was fresh ground, a horny virgin ready for her deflowering.

Sally looked down in surprise when she felt my meat slap against her privates, a faint look of shock as if she expected it to be smaller. And my cock did look like a swelling monstrosity next to the girl's tiny slit.

"Will it…will it fit?" Uncertainty flitted across her face.

"Of course," I assured her. "I know how to get my cock in a 6-year-old, don't worry baby."

Sally grinned expectantly. I moved her legs and high heels to the side a bit more, spreading her thighs, and using the motion to rub my naked cock against her pussy. She shuddered, a full-body spasm of erotic awakening that fluttered from her feet up to her face, where her mouth lurched open in a sudden gasp.

"Good girl," I muttered, running my hands up and down her body, feeling the sensual curve of her hips, the lovely swell of her flat breasts. She squeaked when I snaked my hands around for a quick grasp of her buttcheeks.

"Tell me what you want, baby girl," I grinned.

"I…I want you." Her voice was a shaking quiver.

"What do you want?"

"I want…I want your cock."

"Where?" I prompted.

"There…" she nodded down. "In…in me. In my pussy."

She cut me off when I opened my mouth, tired of my teasing.

"Yes! Your cock, please. Put it inside me. I want your cock inside me, new Daddy! Please put it in!" I heard Abby and Grace laugh, just out of view.

"You got it, baby girl." I raised her butt up with my hands, letting the spear of my prick rest against that tiny little slit, rubbing it up and down with small motions. Sally squeaked something unintelligible, but I could feel the desire of her panting, the tremble of her body. With slow, gentle motions, I spread her cunt with my glans, then pushed the tip in.

Sally jerked and her breath caught in a choke. I gave her a moment, letting the girl get used to the feel of a man's cock for the first time. When she found her breath, I began to bob her up and down gently, using just the tip of my cock to pleasure her.

Few things in life compared to fucking a 6-year-old. There was something sublime in the sweet innocence of a girl barely aware of sex, suddenly being carried along by a shocking flux of new feelings and desires. I could feel them awakening in little Sally as my fingers explored her body, sliding up her sides, tweaking her little nipples, slipping under the filmy white skirt to rub her thighs. The sudden stimulation from a thousand different angles was a new thing for the girl, and I took it slow, letting her enjoy the shuddering pleasure of her body.

When she felt ready, when the entire tip of my cock had been lodged firmly into the tight pocket of her cute little cunny, I began to let her down a bit. Sally jerked in surprise with a garbled "ooohhhhOOOOHHHH" as the first half-inch of my cock penetrated the little girl. I think she might have thought that was the whole thing, when I was teasing her with the tip, and the sudden spread of her pussy was a shock.

"Doing ok?" I asked, brushing stray hair from her face. Sally nodded, gazing into my eyes, her hands resting on my shoulders. She seemed lost for words, panting with her tongue hanging out slightly.

"I'm gonna put some more of it in, sweetie." Sally nodded, and her fingers tightened their grip on my shoulders, fingers clutching the lapels of my tuxedo as I slipped another inch of my cock into her. Best to go slow, I knew, when it was a girl's first time. Sally was tense on my lap, her lip quivering. She turned to look at Abigail.

"Is it always like this?" she gasped.

"It gets easier," Abby smiled. "But it's always good. It's the best thing in the world." Then Abby leaned in and kissed her little sister on the forehead.

"Can you take more, Sally?" Abby stared into her eyes from inches away. "He's barely in now."

"Y-yes. Go slow, please Daddy," she whispered, her eyes almost closed.

"Don't worry, he's always gentle." Abby grinned. "Unless you don't want him to be."

Indeed. The last thing I wanted was to hurt my youngest bride at her wedding as I deflowered her. Out in the crowd, I could see Abby and Sally's mom keeping an eye on us up at the front, making sure her younger girl was ok as her new husband visibly slipped his throbbing cock into her.

"Here baby," I said. "Lean forward a bit more. It'll be easier." I shifted my pelvis slightly for her, keeping Sally locked on the end of my prick, so she could be a little more comfortable. Now she could use her high heels for a little better leverage on the chair.

"I'll let you go, ok? I'll hold you up. Whenever you're ready and want more, just let yourself down a bit."

Sally nodded, her veil rustling. She squirmed slightly and bit her lip, then eased slow down, fitting another inch of my cock into her squeezing cunt. God, she was tight. And wet. The muscles of her tiny pussy squeezed chaotically, as if they didn't know what to do with the massive invader. I kissed her forehead in encouragement.

"That's it baby, just like that." Sally gritted her teeth, then relaxed, panting heavily.

"It was hard for me the first time too," Grace offered from the side, putting a hand on Sally's shoulder. "But just open up bit by bit and trust that Daddy knows what to do."

"It feels…feels…" Sally's heavy gasps were a staccato beat, the enchanting music of a little girl lost in sexual pleasure. "Oh god I want it, I want it more." And she let herself down gently, sinking another inch of my pulsing cock into her slick pocket. I felt the stretching and slight tear of her hymen as she jerked, but I held her arms and legs tightly.

"OooooohhhhAHHHHH!" Sally threw her head back, mewling loudly, shuddering. Her pussy clamped like a throbbing vice around the meager half of my cock that was inside her. I kept her tight in an iron grip, relishing the chaos of emotion and ecstasy I could see on her face as the little 6-year-old underwent her first orgasm. Scattered cheers rang out from our crowd of guests too as the final bride climaxed. It was a token of good fortune for a marriage for any brides to orgasm at least once at their own wedding. The photographer, hovering a decent distance away, snapped a perfect shot of the beautiful moment. I leaned forward and kissed Sally on the lips as her climax dwindled away, holding the pressure, stealing her breath, until the girl finally slumped against me, exhausted.

"Oh Daddyyyyy…" she oozed, cooing in a drowsy post-coital haze. "Awwwwww that was so…so…amazing."

"See?" Said Grace from the side, her hand on Sally's shoulder. "I knew you'd like him."

"There's nothing to worry about, little sis," said Abby, her hand on Sally's other shoulder. "We're all together now, closer than ever."

Sally squirmed languidly, my cock flexing and then popping out of her. Grace peered critically at the place where we had joined.

"Daddy, you didn't cum?"

I shook my head. "It was a bit quick. It's ok." I patted little Sally's head, resting on my shoulder. "She seems tired."

"Hey. Tired or not, you should have fun too," Abby said huffily. Grace nodded, a pouting frown on her face. Then she stood up and began moving the plates and silverware aside.

"Hey, what are you doing?" I asked. Abby stood up and began helping Grace, clearing a spot on the tablecloth directly in front of me.

"If she's tired, just lay her down here," said Abby.

"Come on. Don't you want to cum in her Daddy?" Grace puckered her lips in a mocking grin. "She's so cute, half-asleep like that."

I sighed. I suppose I should expect this all the time, with three randy girls in my house from now on. Not that I was complaining, because what man would complain about a healthy supply of preteen pussy on tap from his trio of young wives? Definitely not me. I relented, standing up while holding Sally to my chest, my cock flopping awkwardly. Grace helped me lay Sally on the table on her back while Abby pulled my chair back to make room.

"That's better," said Grace, grinning. "Now you can fuck her easier."

"Better get to work." A sly grin grew on Abigail's face. "After all, she's the only one of us not pregnant yet."

"Hmmph, good point." I chuckled. Sally seemed to be coming around, realizing her predicament, on her back on the table with her legs spread. Grace and Abby moved to hold her arms down on each side.

"Big sis? Grace?" Sally's confusion was momentary, looking from side to side at the girls, until she looked at me again, standing over her, my cock out of my pants, rock-hard, pointing at her slit.

"Oh." The word was perfunctory, but the happy smile that dawned on her face said all that could be said.

I moved forward, positioning my cock at the tiny slit again, then easing forward until the glans just popped inside.

"Ooof!" Sally's legs kicked, her high heels sticking in the air behind me. The girl may have still been sore, but I felt a heat rising in my loins that I was having a lot of trouble managing. Seeing the little 6-year-old spread out on the table like that, her slutty bridal gear hiding very little of her pert, sexy body, and the hairless pussy just waiting for a man's big cock to stuff it, was driving me over the edge.

"We've got her, Daddy." Grace nodded at me.

"She won't be able to move. You can fuck my sister as hard as you want." Abby's nod showed her approval of that idea.

Sally squeaked when I pushed my cock inside, legs jerking again. She thrashed slightly, but the girls held her steady.

"Ooooh D-Daddy," she stuttered. "It's b-big. Didn't know it would be so big like that…"

I pushed another inch in, this time less gently, relishing the gripping panic of the little girl's pussy walls as I spread them to their limit. God she was tight, and wet, the heavenly heat of her cunt radiating like liquid pleasure. Another inch. Sally choked and gulped for a moment, catching her breath, then looked up at me.

"Please Daddy," she whispered. "Go all the way. Like you do with Abby. P-please…" Her eyes blinked slight tears at the tension in her loins. Her head was resting back on the silky sheen of her veil, her hair mussed, spread out in golden array all around her. She was so beautiful. How could I do anything, I thought, but show my love completely to this girl?

I pushed forward with renewed vigor, burying more of my cock into the frighteningly tight little tunnel. Sally squeaked. Push. Another half-inch. Mewling approval. Slippery goo leaked from the gripping walls as they quaked, the lubricating signal of my wife's desire. She needed me deeper. I went deeper. Another inch, the girl's hips shaking, reflex jerking her arms, but my other wives kept her tightly restrained.

"Ok baby." I bent down over her, close to her face. "This is it. You ready?"

"I'm r-ready Daddy." She gritted her teeth, panting breath flaring her nostrils. "Don't hold back, please."

I nodded, and then shoved my cock fully into the little girl. She yelped once, sudden tension in her thighs, slight tears running down her face, then smiled brightly. Happiness. Bliss. The warm sunrise of Sally's dawning grin, conveying the satisfaction of fulfillment at last. I held steady, letting her enjoy it, her first sensation of a fully-grown girth of manhood stretching her tiny cunny to the limit. Her tightened muscles held for a few moments, then relaxed as she accepted the shocking stretch of her insides, the widening fullness of her new Daddy's cock sunk inside her to the hilt.

"That's it, baby girl." I rubbed her belly encouragingly, then tweaked a nipple. "Just like that. Lovely." And she was lovely, as beautiful as a sunrise, golden hair astray on shining veil, sheer white satin of her boudoir dress, eyes heavy and lidded as she panted to accept what I was giving her. Of course, I had always felt that the most beautiful girl in the world was the one you were fucking right at that moment, but Sally absolutely embodied the sweet, innocent beauty that I so loved about young girls.

Grace waved away one of the waiters who moved to fill the wine glass that had been pushed to the side. In the distance, I could hear the wedding photographer snapping away, capturing this precious moment and others around the room. The crowd was a low murmur, but it all fell away, looking at Sally.

"It's going to get a little heated now," I said to her. Sally nodded wordlessly.

"If you need me to stop just say it."

"No…no d-don't stop please. Go as much as you want. Don't stop until you cum in me Daddy."

Well, there it was. She didn't have to tell me twice. Gently, I slowly pulled my cock away, slipping back past the straining pussy walls I had stretched so wide, then pushing in again.

"Eeek!" Sally jerked, but the girls held on. I pulled back and thrust forward again, earning another squeal. Our activity at the head table had drawn more heads from our guests, and they cheered as they watched the little girl getting a good, solid fucking. I pulled back, pressed forward, establishing a regular rhythm, slipping my cock into Sally's tight, aching channel, the delicious, sucking friction of our motion stoking the the growing heat in my balls like a furnace. Sally gibbered wordlessly, the little girl barely holding on, but she wanted the same gift I had given her sister, and I was determined to give it to her. Back and forth, in and out, my cock thumping into the slippery little folds, relishing the vicelike clamping frenzy of pussy muscles inside her, I carried on. Faster. Harder. Thick fuckstick ramming into the little 6-year-old, stretching her, splitting her wide open to accept me. I was banging on like a full-steam locomotive, the table rocking back and forth, glasses knocking over, spilling wine onto the tablecloth. Plates rattled. Silverware clattered to the floor, and still I pressed on. Little Sally warbled and shrieked, legs jerking against my hips, my girls desperately holding her down. Fuck, she was so tight, so good, so beautiful on the end of my pumping, rigid cock. My lovely bride. My new little daughter. My thrashing little fuckmeat, twisting in the throes of the ecstasy I was giving her.

The world took on a hazy distance. Dimly, I thought I heard cheering. Must have quite an audience by this point, the dwindling part of my rational brain thought. It was being eclipsed by a raw, red hunger focused on the point of my cock, the tip of the spear I was ramming into this filthy little bride slut before me. I could feel that tip at the little girl's womb, banging her cervix over and over, my balls slapping against her bare thighs in time with our rhythm. Her legs drummed against my sides, her wails were the erotic aria of our melody. Her clenching pussy was the pounding percussion, throbbing in time with our heartbeats. I slammed in and out, rocking the table, all other stimuli in the world locked out save for the tiny girl thrashing on the end of my cock. Her back arched off the table. Her legs locked desperately behind me, the sharp points of her high heels against my buttocks, pulling me in. With one final, explosive thrust I rammed forward, burying myself balls-deep inside her, cock erupting like a firehose of white-hot magma that shot upwards and disappeared into the girl's womb. I felt myself gasping, twitching, balls clenching helplessly as I came and came, thick, ropey ejections of viscous cum crashing into the little girl's insides like compressed tidal waves. A chaotic thumping rhythm throbbed in my ears, each ejaculation another smashing note, on and on seemingly without end. My hands were iron claws, holding the girl's thighs. My heart was drumming passion, my breath caught in my throat until my eyes burned. Still it went on, fireworks of euphoria launched from deep within my balls to travel up my cock and each one detonating into a spewing eruption of juice that blasted upwards, disappearing into the mysterious insides of the tight tunnel that encompassed me.

At some point my chest hitched, and I could breathe again. Gasping, I drifted on a tidal current, basking in the pleasure, the sensation of deep, desperate fulfillment. All my senses had drifted away save for the red ramming pleasure of my prick, but now they returned slowly, one by one. The feel of soft flesh in my hands. The sounds of a rowdy room. The smell of food and fresh sex. Sally gradually materialized before me as my sight cleared, the tablecloth a rumped chaos beneath her, spilled food and drink all about her from our thrashing. But she wore her perfect feature proudly - the bright shining smile of happiness as her fluttering eyes slowly opened and she looked up at me.

"God Daddy," Grace laughed. "I didn't think you would ever stop cumming."

"Hey little sis, don't hog all of Daddy's semen!" Abby's pouting grin could be seen just to my side. "Save some for us ok?"

I sagged suddenly, the sensate world crashing back upon me. I leaned forward onto the table, resting on my hands, gasping. Fuck. That was one of the best orgasms I had ever had. Little Sally squirmed beneath me, her tiny body seeming so miniscule underneath mine. I took the moment I needed to catch my breath, then kissed her.

"See?" I said, pulling stray hair out of her face. "You'll never get my second-best, Sally." She laughed as I said it, the delightful lilting sound a perfect compliment to her winning smile.

I fell back onto my chair and somehow didn't topple. I was exhausted. Sheesh. Even Stallion could only go so far sometimes. But I had earned a break for the moment. The last sound I heard before I closed my eyes to rest a moment was the snapping of the photographer's camera, catching the view of little Sally stretched open on the table in front of me, her legs wide open and semen dripping from her snatch as her big sister took the crown of red roses off her head.

The cake-cutting was a blur. It felt like I might have broken something from the sexual overdrive needed to pleasure all three of my little girls. I let the girls do the cutting, the trio laughing over each other as I sat listlessly in the chair, resting. Abigail wiped a bit of white frosting on Sally's chin, made some ribald comment about how she should get used to looking like that from now on, to the crowd's ripe laughter. It seemed a bit hazy to me, like a dream. The photographer snapped away, capturing the precious moments, and the girls delivered the first slice of cake to me on a plate as the man of honor.

Once I managed to dig in to the cake, I started to feel a little better. Grace got me some water, which I accepted gratefully. Yeah. Probably just needed some hydration, after having given so much to my brides. Things took better shape then, and I watched our guests as the cake was carved up and disbursed to each of them. Some of the girls were bare-chested or nude now, having doffed their dresses for some fun during the reception. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. The photographer had ditched his camera for a camcorder and was moving among the guests' tables, lingering at a table of 5 little girls, capturing footage of their stories and well-wishes as they gobbled frosting and cake ravenously.

I eagerly accepted another slice of cake, feeling my strength returning. Sheesh. Maybe I should get one of those protein powders they made so ailing husbands could keep up with their wives. Grace had been almost too much to handle and now I had three of them! But still, I wouldn't have traded my fate for anything. I turned side to side, taking in my three beautiful brides, scarfing down cake and chattering happily. No, definitely not. I was the luckiest man I knew.

The cake had vanished just by the time I was pining for a third slice. Abby let me eat the last remains of frosting off her plate just as the sound system boomed overhead and the MC directed us out to the garden. We got up and followed the flow of guests through the wide, crystal-glass set of double doors out into a hedged-off area lined with the colorful flower beds Sally and I had glimpsed earlier. The plaza was wide enough for all the guests, but the space of the garden at the far end was dominated by the half-circle of a huge fountain with water spurting into the air from the top to trickle down into the main pool

Ah. It was the bouquet toss. I had almost forgot. My girls definitely hadn't though, and they were lining up with their backs to the fountain, giggling madly, each holding their bouquet of white roses. All around us, the other guests who qualified - unmarried girls 16 and below - were taking off any clothing they had remaining, dressing down and then donning one of the sheer white shifts that were stacked on a nearby table. The garb was traditional church fare - the girls were supposed to be lightly clothed in very thin cloth, and the slight garments barely covered the girl's nudity.

Abby, Grace, and Sally were chattering wildly in animated conference, apparently deciding who would get to go first. Eventually they seemed to settle on Grace. She stepped away from the other girls and then backed up slowly towards the fountain without looking, a wide grin splayed on her face. The other girls, the guests, ran and arrayed themselves in disorderly fashion behind her at the edge of the fountain. The crowd called out, telling Grace to go farther, or nearer, left or right, laughing, hoping that their daughter or sister would be the one to get the toss.

Grace tensed, holding her bouquet in an arm rigidly outstretched. She grinned, twitching it teasingly, then hauled up and tossed it straight back and up over her head. A cacophony of shrieks broke out as the crowd of girls leaped into the pool as one, then jumped, swam, and climbed over each other to position themselves to catch it. Arms stretched up into the air as the bouquet soared up into the sunlight, stretching a wide arc across the clear sky, and then plummeted towards the crowd of girls at the pool. Shrieking laughter and chaotic splashing eclipsed the action where the bouquet fell, but after a few moments an older girl emerged, perhaps 14 or so, soaked head to toe but holding the bouquet high above her head triumphantly.

Immediately two of the other girls, her friends, laughed and started a sing-song chant - "Sheila's getting Maaarried! Sheila's getting Maaarried!" They laughed and splashed their friend before hugging her in congratulations.

It was quite a sight, and I took it in appreciatively. All the little girls were soaked right through their thin shifts, perky little bodies on display. An array of bountiful booty ranging from tiny little virgins around 5 and 6 straight up to an alluring array of luscious teenagers. The white cloth clung tightly to their bodies, pert nipples jutting out from the cold water. The church really did have the best traditions, I mused.

Abby was up next. She backed up slowly, following the catcalled directions from the crowd, and held up the bouquet, ready to throw. Higher, lower. Straight back, or to the right. The men and women of the crowd called out each one, laughing, as Abby pretended to follow their directions by moving the bouquet this way or that. Behind her, the flock of sheer-soaked girls waited tensely, ready to compete again for the bouquet.

High it went, soaring into the air and tumbling end-over-end. It came down near the side of the pool, and the girls splashed towards it like a flock of wet hens, cackling with laughter. Splashes and chaos erupted and from it a tiny hand emerged, belonging to an equally tiny girl, holding the flowers aloft. A crazed, gap-toothed grin was plastered on her face just like the thin shift was plastered on her nude body as she ran to the edge of the fountain and climbed out. A pair of parents greeted her, laughing and cheering, swinging her in their arms.

Sally's bouquet was the last. Ignoring the crowd, she twirled herself around three times then flung it wildly. The girls scrambled chaotically, howling, tracing its mad arc. Where it landed a bigger girl, arm outstretched, was pulled back and dunked by two smaller girls climbing up her bodily, scrambling to take the flowers for themselves. A brief contest ensued, the three girls tugging wildly, before the bigger girl emerged triumphant, holding the flowers high up out of reach of the younger girls. She was cute, a brown-haired 12-year-old, panting and grinning as she splashed to the edge of the pool to show the flowers proudly to what looked like an older brother of hers.

And that was it. My brides hugged each other, laughing gayly at the outcome of their flower toss, and then turned as one to wrap me in a tremendous shared bearhug. The guests formed an impromptu line back into the chapel, and my brides and I passed among them, shaking hands, returning well-wishes, the girls kissing their hands and waving. Abby and Sally each had a pair of ferocious hugs for their Mom and Dad. I shook hands with Eric and my father and endured their vigorous slaps on my back as we passed the last of the guests, and finally departed.

I wish I could say I still remembered every moment of that wonderful day, but time does tend to dull the details, leaving only the sweet impression of a day filled with love and joy and the solemnity of new commitment. My girls made me the happiest man in the world that day, and took each day since then as an opportunity to grow more fully into the love we all shared. My final memory of that day is still sharp though, as it should be, since the photograph still graces the place of honor on the mantle above the fireplace.

It was the final picture the photographer took that day: a delightful shot of me and my brides from behind, striding away from our guests at the close of the ceremony, my hands outstretched to rest on the shoulders of Grace and Abby, who flanked me, and Sally holding Abby's hand tightly from the other side. The rays of the afternoon sun slanted through the pillared side of the chapel walkway, framing us in Autumn brilliance and catching light golden halos upon the hair of the girls and lighting their beautiful sheer undergarments with a lustrous shine. Windswept leaves dusted the walkway beneath us in harvest colors, the breeze catching our clothes just slightly as all the girls looked up at me at once, wearing joyous laughter and shining smiles on their faces.