Chapter 37

0615 hours, local time,
Monday, 6 April, 2015
Magnolia Manor (Temporary Howard Residence)
Free City of Cairo, (formerly Cairo, Illinois)

The Prophet David Howard awoke between someone’s folds, deep inside her pussy, but he wasn’t sure whose just yet. He was very surprised to find the angel Marcy lying in front of him, smiling at him as she put his hands on her ass and hers on his. He couldn’t see her wings right then, but he knew that they were simply invisible or retracted or something like that. He knew that she was naked and so was he, that he had been intimate with her now. She smiled and turned her back to him, letting her wings spread as she then planted herself on her belly.

“Take me, please. Fuck me, please!” Marcy urged him, offering up her holes to him, “pussy for now. Ass later.”

Her words hit David like a lightning bolt, jolting him out of his haze. He took a moment to appreciate the sight of Marcy’s curved body, the gentle slope of her back, and the way her wings created a heavenly frame around her. Her skin was like porcelain in the dim light, with a soft glow that seemed to emanate from within. He could feel his cock, still hard from their previous encounter, twitching in response to her invitation.

“Damn it, Marcy, are all angels as sexy as you?” David laughed as he slid into her pussy and grabbed her sweet, naked ass.

Marcy giggled, pushing back against him as he began to thrust, her wings fluttering with the rhythm. “Well, I’m the Lawgiver’s angelic wife as well as guardian, and he has excellent taste in women, being a Prophet himself and all. Lucky you that he’s as much into sharing as we are and already has more wives than Brigham Young.”

Her words sent a thrill through David as he picked up his pace, the sound of their bodies slapping together echoing through the quiet manor. He could feel the tension building inside him again, his balls tightening as he drove into her. She moaned and whimpered, her hands clawing at the bedsheets, urging him deeper with every movement of her hips.

“I somehow doubt that Brigham Young’s wives were half as pretty as you, or even as pretty as any of my own wives, come to think of it,” David smirked as he kept humping her, “especially given what Mark Twain famously said about Mormon women. Supposedly quite homely and plain.”

“Mormon women back then. I can think of certain ex-Mormon wives of the Lawgiver who are quite delectable, from Cherry to Nydia to Stacey. Incidentally, you know that he was named after Mark Twain, the Lawgiver, that is. His full name is Mark Twain Schumacher. Evidently, Gloria Schumacher was a big fan of that great American author,” Marcy teased him as she bucked her hips and drove back at him with her ass, her wings flapping wildly as well.

David chuckled and leaned forward, planting his hands on either side of her body to get a better angle. He could feel her tightness, her heat enveloping him as she took his length without a hint of hesitation. He watched her wings shiver and fold as she arched her back, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as he pushed into her. The room smelled faintly of sex and sweat, and it only made him more eager to claim her fully.

“Fuck, honey, you have the most amazing ass ... damn ... fucking you is like fucking a woman straight from a Pre-Raphaelite painting!” David grunted, even as Marcy squeezed him like a vise and moaned her ecstasy.

Marcy looked back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming with a mix of pleasure and mischief. “Why, thank you, David,” she panted, her cheeks flushed pink, “though I assure you, I’m as real as you are, and I’m all yours at the moment, even if we both have plenty of spouses.”

Her words sent a jolt of excitement through him, and he pumped into her harder, feeling her pussy clench around his cock. The room grew hotter, and the sound of their bodies moving in tandem filled the air. The bed creaked beneath them, protesting their passionate embrace, but it only added to the intensity of their encounter.

“Oh, David!” Marcy screamed as he reached climax, his hot seed spurting into her in thick ropes. He felt her body tense, her pussy milking him for all he was worth as she came as well, her orgasm shaking her entire body. Her wings fluttered in ecstasy, a sight that was both beautiful and surreal.

As the last spasms of pleasure subsided, David felt a sudden coldness as Marcy vanished. She turned her head to give him one last smile before she disappeared, leaving him lying on the bed, his cock still hard and wet with their combined juices. For a moment, he felt a pang of disappointment, but then the reality of the situation set in. He had just had sex with an angel. He was the Prophet David Howard, and this was his new life.

He stumbled to the shower, his legs wobbly from the intense experience. The water was cold, but it felt refreshing against his overheated skin. He leaned against the tiles, letting the water wash over him, and tried to make sense of what had just happened. Was this a vision? A gift from the Lawgiver? Or perhaps something more ... sinister?

Before he could contemplate further, the shower door slid open and in slipped a naked figure, the silhouette unmistakably that of a teenage girl. David’s eyes widened as he realized he didn’t recognize her. She looked to be fourteen, with a body that hadn’t quite filled out yet but was already promising to be lush and womanly.

“My cousin Charlotte said to ... keep you happy and warm. I’m Carol Furstenberg. Relax, I am actually fourteen, which is the age of consent under the new laws, remember?” the girl told him with a fiery kiss, wrapping her arms around him.

David’s eyes snapped open in surprise, his heart racing as he took in the unfamiliar, yet alluring form of the naked teenager in front of him. The girl’s skin was soft and unblemished, her figure a delightful blend of youthful innocence and burgeoning sexuality. Her hair was a cascade of wet, dark locks that clung to her neck and shoulders, framing a face that was both fresh and knowing.

“You might be Charlotte’s cousin, but you have a different kind of beauty, albeit equally lovely. A darker kind of beauty. You have any Romany to you?” David smiled as he caressed her swarthy bottom.

“Yes, I do,” Carol whispered, blushing under his touch, “but I’ve never heard it described like that. My mother is ... Romany. So, yes, I am half ... what people used to call ... Gypsy. That’s me. Gypsy Carol.”

Her voice was sweet and lilting, with a hint of something exotic that only served to make her more appealing to David. He couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement at the prospect of teaching this young girl the ways of pleasure. It was a feeling that was both thrilling and slightly overwhelming, a mix of lust and a strange sense of responsibility.

“Yes, I am a virgin, but I trust you to ... take care of that ... problem for me. So does Charlotte, evidently. I live with her nowadays ... My folks were killed in the Chicago Fireball. I think that she agrees that I’m ready to become a woman,” Carol urged him as they washed each other and rinsed each other off.

Her words were like a siren’s call to David, and he couldn’t resist. He knew it was taboo under the old laws, but the world had changed, and so had he. The old rules didn’t apply anymore. He took a deep breath and kissed her gently, tasting the sweetness of her lips, feeling her shiver with excitement. He picked her up, her legs wrapping around his waist, and carried her back to the bed, his cock already swelling with need. They hadn’t dried off, so their skin was still slippery and wet as he entered her and she wrapped her legs around his waist. It hurt, but somehow, the pain subsided quicker than they feared, yielding to pleasure steadily as he took her.

Her cries grew louder as he penetrated her, filling her up as she tightened around him. She was so tight, so new, and her inexperience was a stark contrast to Marcy’s skilled embrace. Yet, her willingness and eagerness to learn were intoxicating. He moved slowly at first, savoring every moment, feeling her body adjust to his size. Her nails dug into his shoulders as she began to understand the rhythm of their union, her breaths turning into moans of pleasure.

Suddenly, the faint sound of “Father Figure” by George Michael began to fill the room, the irony not lost on David as he looked down at the naked, trembling girl in his arms. He didn’t know where the music was coming from, but it only added to the surrealism of the situation. He picked up his pace, feeling the beat of the song in sync with their lovemaking. The melody washed over them, a nostalgic tune from a bygone era, reminding him of the simple, innocent days before the world had gone to hell.

The door to the bedroom creaked open and in walked Charlotte, wearing nothing but a knowing smile and the light from the hallway. She was a vision of beauty, her dirty blonde hair cascading down her back now that she was letting it grow back, her eyes blazing with love and lust for both of them. She climbed onto the bed, her body moving with the grace of a cat as she positioned herself beside them.

“Sorry for holding out on you, but I had to wait until Carol’s fourteenth birthday to share her with you. That’s today, the Sixth of April, you know. She’s legal now. She wasn’t before then. Here, let’s put her on her belly. Carol, honey, you’re going to love this, and yes, he’ll be your father figure, just as he is for others of us, myself included, with apologies to George Michael, of course,” Charlotte said as she flipped her cousin onto her belly and descended upon her ass with her mouth, “come on, honey, take her doggy-style while I lick her sweet ass!”

The music grew louder, almost as if it were a part of the moment itself, a soundtrack to the illicit thrill that David felt as he positioned himself behind the teenage girl. He looked down at her, her eyes wide with excitement and a hint of fear, and he felt a strange, potent mix of protectiveness and desire. He pushed into her gently, feeling her tighten around him, her body unused to the intrusion of a man.

“Ah, blood ... not too much, not too bad. I’ve seen worse bleeding the first time, trust me, cousin!” Charlotte reacted to the sight of Carol’s newly deflowered twat before she began rimming her intensely.

Carol looked back at David in the mirror with a mix of awe and pleasure, her eyes glazed over with a sheen of lust. David couldn’t believe he was doing this, fucking a fourteen-year-old girl with her own cousin’s encouragement. But this was the new world, a world where the old morals had burned away in the fires of the apocalypse, paving way for the new social order and ... for large areas with no order at all.

Their movements grew more frantic, their breaths mingling as they became lost in the moment. David’s cock slid in and out of Carol’s tight pussy, her juices mixing with the last traces of Marcy’s, creating a divine cocktail of pleasure. He reached around, squeezing her small, pert breasts as they bounced with each thrust, feeling her nipples harden beneath his touch.

“Oh, yes, Prophet,” Carol moaned, her voice barely above a whisper, “yes, I can feel it ... I’m ... I’m...”

“Do it, honey, cum for the Prophet,” Charlotte told her cousin, playfully nibbling her ass between licks to her puckered hole.

Her words seemed to be a trigger for Carol, who threw her head back, arching her back as she screamed in pleasure. Her orgasm washed over her, her body spasming around David’s cock as he felt himself nearing his own climax. He couldn’t believe the intensity of the experience, the way her tightness clenched around him, the way she was giving herself to him so willingly. It was like nothing he had ever felt before, a mix of power and tenderness that was both humbling and exhilarating.

With a final, powerful thrust, David reached his peak, filling Carol with his seed. He watched in the mirror as her pussy gripped him, pulsing with the force of her climax. He felt a strange kinship with the girl, a bond that went beyond the physical act they had just shared. It was as if he had claimed her in some ancient, primal way, marking her as his own.

Carol’s body went limp, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she collapsed onto the bed, her legs still shaking. David pulled out, his cock glistening with their combined juices, and lay beside her, wrapping his arm around her waist. He could feel her heart racing, her breaths coming in short, sharp gasps. She looked up at him with a mix of adoration and satisfaction, her eyes still wide with amazement.

“Well done, and now she has Schumacher Syndrome. And you know what that means, with the hyper-fertility ... she’s going to conceive your baby!” Charlotte said, even as she lay next to Carol and kissed her cousin’s lips.

“So, are you prepared to become a mother, Carol?” David asked her.

“No, not really, but Charlotte told me that no one is truly ready, that ready or not, it needs to happen, sooner or later, especially in this day and age, to bring about the new generation,” Carol told him, “and now that I have Schumacher Syndrome, I really want to breed over and over again.”

Her words were a mix of innocence and newfound sexuality that sent a shiver down David’s spine. He leaned over and kissed her, tasting the saltiness of her sweat and the faint metallic tang of blood. It was a heady, intoxicating mix that only added to his desire. He felt himself getting hard again, his body reacting to the prospect of creating life with this young lady.

“That’s very wise. And let us be frank, adolescence isn’t childhood. It isn’t infancy. This prolonged, continued immaturity and innocence, such as promoted by recent modern society and its laws and morals ... is unnatural. You’re fourteen. You’re not a grown-ass woman, but you’re not a child, either. You are in a third category, that of adolescence or youth, the category of transition. Now, let us snuggle for a bit, the three of us, alright?” David urged Carol, Charlotte and he caressing her body and holding her very close, “Happy Birthday, Carol Furstenberg.”

“Thank you, Prophet David Howard. It is an honor to give you my maidenhead and my womb, to conceive your seed as of the mothers of your children,” Carol smiled as they cuddled together and then heard a bell ring to indicate breakfast.

“Ah, yes, the new system for announcing breakfast. We’ll see how that works out, eh? And I am honored that you feel honored, by the way,” David told Carol as Charlotte and she walked on either side of him down to the dining hall ... still very much in the nude.

The dining hall was a flurry of activity when they arrived. The smell of eggs, bacon, and pancakes filled the air, making his stomach growl. He could see several of his wives moving around, cooking and serving food to the others who were already seated at the long, communal table. Andrea, his first wife, was flipping pancakes with a flourish, while Denise, David’s niece as well as his wife, was serving coffee and juice with a warm smile. Amanda, the former barista and Orthodox Jew, was busy cutting up fruit for a salad, her ample breasts bouncing with every stroke of the knife. Connie, relatively younger and also Jewish by birth, was setting the table with an air of seriousness that was both endearing and a little comical.

“It took me a while to get used to eating pork and other treif, but now that I have, it’s not so bad, is it, Mandy?” Connie used a favorite pet name for Amanda.

“It’s definitely different, but not in a bad way,” Amanda agreed, placing the fruit salad she’d prepared down at the center of the table.

“Yes, remember I used to only eat halal, just as you were strictly kosher,” Azita reminded them, “mind you, it isn’t the halal that many Muslims in this country know, them being Sunnis and me ... being Shia by upbringing, but you get the point.”

The three of them chuckled as they took their seats at the table, the warmth of their shared experience and the delicious aroma of breakfast filling the room. David couldn’t help but feel a sense of belonging, of family, as he looked around at the women who had come to mean so much to him. Heaven had truly blessed him, even in the midst of an apocalypse.

The table was already crowded with his other wives and companions from the Easter orgy, all of them looking well-rested and satisfied, their bodies still glowing with the aftermath of passion. Some were already digging into their food, while others chatted and shared stories from the night before. The room buzzed with energy and excitement, a stark contrast to the solemn silence that had once been the norm for some of the those same people at breakfast.

“Oh, and apparently, the last Mormons have completely left Illinois, now that the Hell’s Angels aren’t able to ... harass or block them now. They are ... en route to Deseret, where else? They bypassed us, of course. They didn’t wish to get ... exposed to our ... mojo, I guess,” Tozroman, the demon member of the war council and inner circle, laughed, even as Melanie fed him a bite of her bacon.

“Excellent news, of course, Tozzie,” Melanie told him with a kiss, even as she winked at her first husband, Kyle, still somewhat a voyeur and a little cucky at times, even with the changes brought on by Schumacher Syndrome and Havenism.

David took his seat at the head of the table, feeling a strange mix of pride and relief. The thought of the last Mormons leaving the area brought him comfort, but it also reminded him of the vast and unpredictable world that lay outside the city defenses of Cairo. He knew that there would be challenges ahead, new enemies to face and battles to win. But for now, he could enjoy the company of his wives and the warmth of their bodies around him.

“Speaking of the Hell’s Angels, they’ve been squeezed down into just a fifth of their former territory, nearly every other faction gaining at their expense ... except for the aforementioned Mormons, since they’re getting out of Dodge,” Sergeant Major Copper noted now.