She stuck her head out between the curtains, holding them close around her neck so that only her head showed. She gesticulated wildly at her father, catching his eye, and giving him a "come over here; now!" look. Daddy came running, and slipped back between the curtains, ready to do whatever his little darling needed on this, her special day.
"What's the matter, Princess? Is everything okay?" he asked. Bec just grabbed his trousers by the waistband and yanked with all her might. Buttons and zipper teeth flew in all directions.
"Fuck me, Daddy. Fuck me like there is no tomorrow. I will be a married lady within the hour, and this is my last chance."
Bec's father was shocked, appalled, amazed. And horny! He was an old pervert from way back, and had always fantasized about fucking his hot young daughter. Now was his last chance! He stroked his cock a few times in his fist, bringing it to full boil. Bec was on the floor, her wedding gown hiked up over her hips, her panties torn aside, her knees up behind her ears, and her pussy lips beckoning him. He went wild with lust, and fell upon her. His cock entered her with a needful, yearning, thrusting motion, and he was soon buried in it to the hilt. They fucked and thrusted and pumped each other like there was no tomorrow which, if you think about it, there wasn't.
Before long, Bec's father reached his climax, and unleashed his middle-aged load of cum into her waiting, pulsating pussy. Bec reached her third orgasm of the afternoon, and screamed in pleasure. Fortunately, the organist had returned to his keyboard, and was just playing a crescendo that drowned out her ecstatic yodeling.
Bec got up, kissed her Daddy, and sent him back out to the pews before her mother missed him. She had other fish to fry before it was time to pledge her mind, her body, her spirit, and her soul to her one true love, Josh. She needed at least one more fuck. Her furtive eyes darted around the back area of the church. Who would it be? Who would capture her final unmarried fuck?
Aha! Her altar boy was back, but he wasn't alone. There were three of them now, ready to go out and kneel around the altar, ring the bell, shake the incense dispenser, and look solemn for her most holiest of days. She grabbed all three of them around their necks and dragged them back into the altar boy lounge. There was a nice, beat-up, overstuffed sofa there, perfect for the occasion.
"Now is the time, boys. You: you have my pussy. You: you have my ass. And you," she indicated her previous fuck buddy, "You have my mouth. Here. Now. Go!"
She flung Pussy Boy onto the sofa on his back, and tore his trousers from his hips. She hiked up her skirt once again, and impaled herself onto his rigid tool, feeling it parting her slick, swollen lips. She leaned forward, lying on his chest, and reached back to spread her ass cheeks with her hands. Butt Boy wasted no time in jumping up her wide open anus, burying his long cock to the hilt into her colon. Mouth Boy positioned himself in front of her face, and began thrusting deep into her throat. He correctly judged that she did not plan to suck his cock; she wanted him to fuck her throat, deeply, brutally, completely!
All three altar boys thrusted, grunted, flailed; they plunged and penetrated; they poked and pushed; they yanked and cranked; they invaded and violated her three holes with the wild abandon that only eighteen year old near-virgins can achieve. Bec was in heaven; her pussy pulsated; her anus ached; her throat throbbed; she felt the ecstasy in every cell of her body. As her three lovers approached and achieved their climax, she felt her own orgasm welling up within her. All four of them screamed out in pleasure at the same time. Bec was drenched in sperm, in her mouth and her pussy and her asshole. Her sweat poured down her forehead, and her limbs twitched uncontrollably.
Finally, the three altar boys pulled out of her holes, and did their best to wipe themselves up before they had to go out to the altar, ready for the sanctimony of the solemn marriage ceremony. Bec was a mess, a quivering mass of jelly, and was the happiest woman in the world. She was ready to get married at last.
She turned around, smoothed down her disheveled gown with her hands, and gave each of her temporary suitors a quick kiss on the mouth. "Thanks, love," she said to them, collectively. "I really needed that. Now let's go get me married."
With several cold, wet streams of jism running down the inside of her leg and down her butt cheeks, hidden within the long, flowing skirt of her virginal wedding gown, Bec strutted out to the altar with her three altar boys in tow, to stand beside her man, the love of her life, Josh, ready to take the vow that would begin their life together in sacred, monogamous, wedded bliss.
Maybe.