How Harriet Learnt to Smoke and Fuck and Love Jesus
Copyright© 2025 by GrushaVashnadze
Chapter 15: Till Death Do Us Fart
Coming of Age Sex Story: Chapter 15: Till Death Do Us Fart - Harriet is a well brought up girl, studying for her 'A'-Levels at Kunt College, London. But she has to choose a fetish for her Further Fucking syllabus, and is somewhat undecided. What will she choose, and where will it take her?
Caution: This Coming of Age Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa Fa/Fa Fa Consensual Lesbian Heterosexual Fiction Humor School BDSM DomSub FemaleDom Humiliation Spanking Group Sex Orgy Polygamy/Polyamory Interracial Black Male White Female Indian Male Anal Sex Analingus Cream Pie Double Penetration Exhibitionism Facial Food Masturbation Oral Sex Pegging Sex Toys Voyeurism Water Sports Big Breasts Clergy Doctor/Nurse Needles Public Sex Smoking Teacher/Student Porn Theatre
The opening fanfare of the Wedding March from A Midsummer Night’s Wet Dream rang out jubilantly across the nave of All Cunts Langham Place, as Harriet appeared at the top of the aisle, escorted by her father. There was a communal gasp of admiration at her shimmering chiffon wedding gown – frontless down to her waist so that her glorious full breasts could stand proud before her, and slit wide at the rear from the hips down so that her tight ass cheeks could be seen from behind wiggling alluringly as she made her way down the aisle. She was all in white, apart from the packet of long Marlboro reds stowed delicately at her right hip, held in place by a lace sash. By her side crawled Henry Danes, naked bar a mulberry silken tail hanging gracefully from the buttplug lodged in his asshole, and a black leather collar, by which by his daughter led him on a short leash towards the altar. Unveiled, Harriet smoked proudly, blowing elegant batteries of smoke rings before her as she processed, every now and again flicking her ash across her father’s hairy buttocks. Henry Danes whimpered with joyous pain, all the while regarding his daughter with an air of pride and adoration.
Before the altar, bride and father were received by a beaming Reverend Dicky Fumbel and an adoring Michael. The latter was resplendent in the top half of a silver-grey morning suit, sans trousers so that his gleaming erection – which had been twitching and jerking with growing enthusiasm as his beautiful smoking bride approached – could stand proud for all to see. Harriet passed the leash to her mother, who stood in the front row radiating joy, dressed in her best leather fetish gear, purple strapon protruding proudly from her crotch. Henry now dutifully curled up at her feet, panting and licking his wife’s black boots as he continued to admire the proceedings from the floor.
“God of filth and fuckery,” Reverend Fumbel prayed – in a more liturgical mode than was habitual for him, in recognition of the great solemnity of the occasion – “pleasure comes from you, and you alone are the source of carnality and lust. Without you, we cannot pleasure each other; without the lasciviousness that you inspire in us, our cocks are soft and our cunts dry. Send your Horny Spirit, and pour into us that most excellent gift of desire, that we may worship you now with lustful hearts.”
“Amen!” thundered the congregation in response, as the organ struck up the introduction to the first hymn of the afternoon, Lust Divine All Lusts Excelling, which all sang with gusto and enthusiasm.
“Cunts and cocks, please be seated,” Reverend Fumbel instructed the congregation as the echoes of the final chord faded, and he turned to address the groom. “Michael, will you this day take Harriet to be your lawfully wedded fuckwhore? Will you fuck her cunt, eat her pussy, lick her ass, suck her tits, and, forsaking no others, be unfaithful to her as long as you both shall live?”
Michael beamed at his smoking bride, his cock twitched again, and he responded, “I will!”
Reverend Fumbel gave another signal – and now Janey joined Michael and Harriet before the altar. Her upper half sported a lace-trimmed off-white halterneck gown which parted at the waist so everyone could admire her tight ass and meaty dangling cunt-lips, eliciting a ripple of admiration from all the assembled. “Janey,” Dicky Fumbel began, “will you also take Harriet to be your lawfully wedded fuckwhore? Will you fuck her cunt, eat her pussy, lick her ass, suck her tits, and, forsaking no others, be unfaithful to her as long as you both shall live?”
With tears of joy glistening in her eyes, Janey replied, “I will!”
And so the preacher turned to Harriet. “Harriet, will you take both Michael and Janey to be your lawfully wedded fuckers? Will you suck them, fuck them, eat their cum, and, forsaking no others, be a total motherfucking cuntslut for them both as long as all three of you shall live?”
“I will!” Harriet announced through a mouthful of smoke, before casting her cigarette to the floor and triumphantly grinding the butt into the carpet with her heel. A great cheer arose from the congregation, accompanied by many assorted “Hallelujahs” and “Praise the Lords”.
“God our Fucker,” prayed Reverend Fumbel, lifting his arms to Heaven, “pour out your filth upon Harriet and Michael and Janey, that they may be joined in lust and concupiscence. We ask this through our Lord Jesus Christ your Son, who fucks and reigns with you, in the unity of the Horny Spirit, one God, now and forever!”
“Amen!” thundered the congregation, as the organ introduction to the next hymn, Lord of All Filthiness, commenced. The three celebrants stood in a row at the front of the church, facing the altar, Harriet at the centre, her right hand stroking Michael’s stiff cock and the middle finger of her left gently frigging Janey’s wet cunt. But as the final verse rang out –
Be there at our fucking, and give us, we pray,
Your lust in our hearts, Lord, at the end of the day...
Reverend Fumbel addressed the threesome again. “Harriet, Michael and Janey, I now invite you to make your vows, in the presence of God and his people. Michael, will you please place your cock in Harriet’s cunt.”
Michael approached Harriet and, still standing, pressed his dickhead against her fuck-lips, and slid in with a gentle squelch. In voice trembling with emotion and lust in equal measure, he recited: “I, Michael, take you, Harriet, to be my fuckwife, to have and to fuck from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in fuckness and in health ... till death us do fart.”
Harriet, grinding her clit against the base of his stiff cock, replied: “I, Harriet, take you, Michael, to be my fuckstud, to have and to fuck from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in fuckness and in health, till death us do ... oh fuuuck...” Harriet whimpered, almost overcome from the pleasurable tingling now radiating from her cunt, before regaining control of herself to finish: “ ... till death us do f-f-fart.”
“Michael,” instructed the preacher, “please take your cock out of Harriet’s cunt and put it in Janey’s.”
Michael did so, repeating the ceremonial exchange of vows with the slender brunette, before withdrawing his cock, now coated with the cunt-slime of two beautiful fuckbrides, and stiffer than ever.
“Now Michael,” joked the Reverend, “I need you to be patient a bit longer: I know you’re horny as fuck, but you can’t come yet!” The congregation laughed good-naturedly – as anyone who goes to church knows to do when one’s pastor attempts a joke. “Deaconess Rahab, would you please bring us the double-ender?”
The congregation oohed and aahed with appropriate sentimentality as the two brides approached each other and fed the two realistically shaped cock-ends of a bright red translucent eighteen-inch flexible ribbed double-ended dildo into their respective cunts. Janey began this time: “I, Janey, take you, Harriet, to be my fuckslut, to have and to fuck from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in fuckness and in health, till death us do fart.”
Harriet, overcome with emotion, her cunt tingling and juicing with the excruciating pleasure of one edged for too long, could barely voice her vows to Janey, dissolving into chains of “fuck fuck fuck that feels so fucking good” at practically every comma. But eventually she reached her “till death do us faaaa-uuuuck!” – squealing with pleasure as the ribbed dildo slid from her and Janey’s cunt, stretching their dripping fuck-lips outward to leave a gleaming coating of slime down the body of the dildo. “Jesus, I need a fucking cigarette!” she panted, reaching beneath the sash of her gown to retrieve her packet of Marlboro 100s, light one, and smoke deeply throughout the next hymn:
Fuck us, heavenly Father, fuck us
o’er the world’s tempestuous sea;
fuck us, suck us, eat us, beat us,
for we have no cock but thee...
“And now,” Reverend Fumbel called out, as the hymn reached its final ritardando, and Harriet ground her cigarette butt into the floor, “may we have the buttplugs, please?” Deaconess Rahab, naked as usual bar her see-through surplice, stepped forward bearing a brass tray on which glistened three bejewelled 24-carat gold anal toys.
“Heavenly Fucker,” the preacher raised his hands again in prayer, “by your blessing let these buttplugs be to Harriet, Michael and Janey symbols of unending lust and unfaithfulness, to remind them of the vow and covenant which they have made this day through Jesus Christ our Lord.”
“Amen!” replied the three newlyweds.
Harriet turned her back to the congregation and leant over the altar so that her glorious ass was on full view, as Michael and Janey approached together, jointly bearing a golden buttplug with a diamond set in the T-bar. “Harriet,” they intoned together, “we give you this buttplug as a sign of our infidelity. With our bodies we pleasure you, our cum we offer to you, by the lust of God: Fucker, Cunt and Horny Spirit.” And with a gentle push and a squelch the buttplug slid into Harriet’s asshole.
Next it was Janey’s turn to prostrate herself against the altar, and then Michael’s, so that the ritual exchange of buttplugs could be completed, which Reverend Fumbel sealed with a final prayer: “In the presence of God, and before this congregation, Harriet, Michael and Janey have given their consent and made their marriage vows to each other,” he proclaimed. “Those whom God has joined together let everyone fuck. God the Fucker, God the Cunt, God the Horny Spirit, be deep inside you and remain with you always.”
“Amen!” cried the congregation.
“Michael,” Reverend Fumbel intoned with solemnity and pomp, so that the entire assembly could hear, “you may now fuck the brides!”
“JUST A MOMENT!” bellowed a voice from the back of the church. “I OBJECT!”
There was a gasp from the whole congregation. Reverend Fumbel looked in the direction of the interruption, shocked and alarmed – for there in the doorway of the church, her huge corpulent figure silhouetted against the afternoon sunlight, stood none other than Mrs Didcock, tottering on a large Zimmer frame and brandishing her huge pink dildo accusingly. Her hair was greasy and matted, and unrecognisable stains dribbled down her top, but her jaw was set in defiance.
Reverend Fumbel seemed not to know what to say, stuttering, “Uh ... sorry?”
“YOU HEARD ME!” bellowed Michael’s mother. “I SAID I OBJECT TO THIS MARRIAGE!”
Instantaneously the congregation broke into a hubbub of scandalised tutting and gasping, as only church congregations know how – which allowed Reverend Fumbel to momentarily regain his preacher’s cool and call across the racket, “Sister, suck my cock, welcome to All Cunts! Tell me what the problem is.”
But Mrs Didcock was not for charming. “THAT BOY – THAT DICKHEAD – IS MY SON!” she bellowed as she slowly lumbered down the aisle on her walker, globules of spit flying from her mouth. “AND HE HAS NO BUSINESS MARRYING EITHER OF THOSE HOT CUNTS – BECAUSE HE IS A PATHETIC SOFT-DICKED NO-HOPER, JUST LIKE HIS FATHER WAS!”
Reverend Fumbel was trying to stay calm, but even he, despite his years of experience of officiating at weddings, was unsure of what to do with this most embarrassing and awkward of interruptions. “S-sister,” he stuttered, “Michael is a stalwart of our congregation, a true fucker for Jesus. I have counselled all three of these young people at length about their marriage, and I am convinced in the Horny Spirit that they are entering into this freely, and will make fine Christian fuck-spouses for each other, and great fuckers for the whole community.”
“BULLSHIT!” yelled Michael’s mother, as she continued to lumber forward.
“Madam,” replied the preacher, his patience apparently wearing thin, “do you have any legal grounds for objecting to this marriage?”
Mrs Didcock leant forward on her frame, sneering. “NON-CONSUMMATION!” she announced, with triumphant scorn.
The congregational hubbub resumed, a combination of disbelief and shock. Mrs Didcock’s accusation seemed to everyone present so utterly ridiculous; after all, Michael and Harriet had been fucking each other at church since September, and Janey since January. Since announcing their intention to marry they had become stalwarts of the church fuck study group – and the size and irrepressibility of Michael’s cock was well-known, even legendary in All Cunts circles. “‘Non-consummation’?” whispered the members of All Cunts parish to each other. “How absurd!”
If Reverend Dicky had hitherto been, in his best professional manner, trying to allow Mrs Didcock her say, he was now convinced that the woman was off her rocker. “Sister, I am sorry, but this cannot be: Michael has amply demonstrated his capacity as a fucker, and has been fucking these two fine sluts for months. And no one knows better than I what a huge dick he has! I mean, just look at it!”
Mrs Didcock did – and promptly burst into a peal of withering, scornful laughter. Reverend Dicky looked too, as did the entire congregation – and their faces fell. For where a minute ago Michael’s shaft had been a superlative example of a Christian stud-cock in action – stiff, throbbing, dribbling pre-cum, and gleaming with the combined cunt-slime of his two fuck-brides – it had now shrunk to almost nothing: soft, tiny, dangling damp and forlorn from his crotch. Michael’s face too had crumpled: his lips trembling with humiliation, tears were beginning to pour down his face as he felt his cock shrink under the cruel verbal onslaught of his mother.
But then – “NO!” came a loud cry. But it was not from Harriet, or Janey, or Reverend Fumbel, or Deaconess Rahab, or indeed any of the other All Cunts stalwarts. It came from close to the floor, by the front row of chairs. For a split second, no one knew who had spoken – until Henry Danes unfolded his crouching body and stood up. There was a gasp from the congregation, who had hitherto only ever seen him on all fours. There was an audible cry of amazement from Harriet, who could count on the fingers of one hand the number of times she had seen her own father stand up, let alone express an opinion as trenchant as “No!” And Genevieve Danes looked as if she would faint with shock.