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Chapter 1819 by Funatic Funatic

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Pressure

“Why am I still fucking flour when she is bread?!”

The scream bounced around in John’s ears before he had even entered his apartment. Lee had taken him and Magnus back to the USA and his own feet had taken him to the door. Eliana awaited him on the other side. The pretty little psycho glared at him, arms crossed, her pale, white-blue-haired frame situated next to Nathalia. The caramel-skinned redhead had the same pose and expression. Tall and short, dragoness and blood mage stared at their man with broken patience.

In unity they pointed at the Couch. There, Rave and Aclysia were seated, equal parts intimidated and confused by all of this. “We have been too patient,” Nathalia hissed. “We demand you do as you ought.”

“Plan that fucking wedding, you teasing cock, or I’m turning you into the human equivalent of a male anglerfish!”

John may have been a sex-obsessed pervert nymphomaniac, but he did prefer not being reduced to a pair of gonads. Biting his tongue, he obediently went on over to the Couch and sat down between his first fiancée and his first maid. In front of them were the two binders worth of decisions they had made so far. Decisions that had not actually pinned anything down yet, only narrowed the scope somewhat.

Nathalia and Eliana sat down across from them, arms once more crossed, and stared expectantly. Neither John nor Rave dared to complain. They had been dragging their feet. Aclysia was there for reasons of aiding them, the Gamer had to assume. He picked up one of the binders and found where they had left off.

“Any idea for the venue yet?” he asked Rave.

“Nope,” the feline Lightbearer responded. “Church still feels way too cliché for me, but I also don’t want it not to be a church, ya get me?”

“I don’t,” John confessed and scratched the back of his head. “Cathedral feels too pompous for me, plus we need a big open space for all the guests afterwards.”

“Maybe we should just build a place? We have that kind of time, right?”

“That is what we considered last… but that’ll be such a hassle. Half the Abyssal world leadership will be there. New infrastructure we need to build.”

“Just have the fucking wedding here!” Eliana groaned.

“Nah, not an option,” the feline Lightbearer denied immediately. “I don’t want to marry where I live, that’s the opposite of romantic.”

“Yeah… but if we build a place, it’s going to be so irksome. We have to get the place built and furnished before we can do other planning. The caterers and such will want to see the floor plans so they can do their plans.”

“Right… urgh, so what do we have for established places again?” Rave picked up another folder. “Gaia, we really need a full park, don’t we?”

“If we go with that route, we have to marry in the summer.”

“Obviously we marry in the summer,” his first fiancée stated with an eye roll. “2021, we could probably do?”

“2021?!” Eliana screeched. “Are you fucking with my ovaries?! You want me to keep pulling the cobwebs out of my uterus for 2 more years?!”

“Uhhhh, maybe? Think we can do next summer, tiger?”

John was busy browsing the catalogue with locations that they had previously discarded. There were several he reconsidered. There were just so many beautiful vistas. “I have no idea,” he answered.

“You fucking will make next summer!” Eliana demanded.

“We are quite tired of waiting,” Nathalia growled in support.

To blame them for this was not something the Gamer was capable of. “Alright, fine, let’s set a date first,” he decided with a heavy sigh. All of this marriage talk never quite felt real to him, for reasons he could not put a finger on. Just one of those parts of the human condition, it seemed.

They pulled out a calendar and flipped on through. June, July and August were their essential choices. “July 15th?” the Gamer asked. He picked the date entirely because it was in the middle.

“…Sure,” Rave answered reluctantly, then threw her arms up. “That’s so soon!”

“Shit,” John cursed, tossed the calendar to the side and rubbed his forehead. “Alright… venue…” He looked at all of the selections in front of them and made a sour face. “I think we actually just have to build one.”

“Could use my Guild Hall for it?” Rave suggested.

“That… could actually work.” John nodded to himself. It being a Guild Hall would take care of a moderate amount of the potential infrastructure issues that came with housing so many individuals of status, not to mention their servant staff. “Alright… where?”

“West coast?” Rave suggested on a whim.

“Why there?” he asked.

“Dunno, we’re just deciding stuff on gut feeling now, apparently.”

That was fair, and after the decision paralysis of recent months, that probably was the best call as well. John felt the call of putting this off another week in every fork in the road they were currently taking. If it had been up to him, they would have at least slept on the date. Alas, there was a pair of barely appeased women still glaring at them.

John wanted to feel upset about being rushed on his own wedding. Alas, this was a pressure entirely of his own making. It was him that had tied the matters of children and marriage together and it was also him that had been dragging his feet. Their insistence was entirely justified. Irielz’s happy news had just been the catalyst.

“West Coast, then,” John agreed. “We’ll get there within the next couple of months. Somewhere in warm California should do then.”

“Just away from the cities,” Rave stated.

“Far away from the cities,” Aclysia insisted. It was the first time she had spoken up. “Busy traffic and other issues would spoil the mood. Shall I acquire a sizable property in the area in advance?”

Putting Aclysia on that task would take it out of their hands, which was likely going to expedite the process. “Hold back on it until we have integrated the Gobbo Nation, at least. I don’t want to upset any of the local guilds or the Mandate of Heaven by moving ahead of time.”

“Affirmative.” Aclysia cleared the table of the current folders, then placed a new set of them in front of the duo. “I have taken the liberty to arrange recommendations for the catering and other services. Please review them.”

This was the least surprising development. John browsed the folders. For the servant staff, Aclysia recommended her own maid cadre, supported by various layers of the maid academy’s students and teachers. The more important a task was, the more time the people responsible needed to have spent studying. All of that was very reasonable.

The problems came once they moved beyond that. They had plenty of people that could do things but what things did they want done at their wedding? How wholesome did they want it to be, how depraved? John had a reputation and that reputation came with certain friends. Did he want there to be a nudist area at his wedding or did he insist that they would be at their best behaviour during that time?

What kind of food did they want? When would it be served? How ready should the availability of **** be? For how many people did they have to stock up?

That directly led into the next issue: the guest list.

Setting the initial list of guests was easy. Maximillian and his women, the families of John’s haremettes, including the Magus family, Romulus, the leadership of Fusion’s closest allies, and a select few friends and allies all of them had made over the years. After that came the difficult list of people that they felt they had to invite for political reasons and then there was the even more difficult list of people that they ought to invite but really did not want to.

After three hours of it, John tossed a quarter-finished list onto the table. He and his first fiancée groaned, heads tilted back, and stared up at the ceiling. Suddenly, Rave laughed. “What’s so funny?” John wanted to know.

“Ya gotta do this like a dozen more times,” she teased him.

“Well, glad my future suffering is entertaining to someone,” the Gamer groaned and closed his eyes for a moment. Various names swam around behind his closed lids, faces following in their wake. He was tired. All of the beer he had drank had by now left his system. While he had put enough water in the tank to prevent dehydration, he was still left exhausted.

He considered all of his future weddings. There was Lydia, of course, but he did not consider that an affair he would have too much input in. It was a matrilineal matter, one in which he was marrying into a family of great renown and long traditions. However it would work, he would play a supportive role in the organization at best.

What other haremettes even wanted a wedding ceremony? Gnome had expressed an interest, but he could not see her wanting a large one. If they put something together on this scale for the brunette, she would crumble into pebbles halfway down the aisle. Lee was likely the same way. Lorelei would want a small ceremony, only because she did not believe herself worthy of all of the festivities. Proving her wrong may be worth going through all of this again.

Then there was Momo, who John was not certain of whatsoever what degree of publicity she wanted. He doubted she knew either. She wanted the wedding, she had made that subtly clear through various conversations, but they were not any further on that front.

Nahoa would want a variation on whatever tribal ceremony was appropriate from her perspective. That one was going to be an event in one form or another. Her wedding was going to have further cultural implications, adding to the previous ritual.

Nightingale would want a large wedding, no doubt, although John would have to investigate harpy customs more before they committed to it. Scarlett wanted a wedding in one form or another. Like Momo, the exact form was still to be considered. Hailey probably would go for something medium-sized, by John’s standards. Siena definitely would want something big.

And then there was Aclysia. The first maid had been imprecise whenever asked on this topic, which clued John into something going on. As a good future husband, he thusly ignored her obfuscations.

“Alrighty, that’s enough for today!” Rave declared.

“Is it?” Nathalia asked, in a low tone.

“Ja,” the feline Lightbearer insisted. There was some grumbling by the unbred parties, but they had just witnessed several hours of work getting done. That was enough to set them to content. “Time for me to play.”

“Play, you say?” John still had his eyes closed. He kept it that way, basking in the tactile sensations of Rave running her hands over the thin fabric of the shirt that he had never peeled out of. They found their way to his pants quickly. Cooperatively, John raised his butt just enough that his first fiancée could pull the legwear down. His half-hard cock flopped to freedom. It was swiftly pinned against his lower abdomen, Rave’s pussy lips pressing against it.

Heated little gasps filled the room. John could see the feline Lightbearer before his mind’s eye. Her pink lips were slightly parted, letting the hot breath escape while excitement flushed her cheeks and hardened her nipples. Every heartbeat sent more blood to his cock, turning it rigid while Rave’s hairless cunt swelled in its own way. Once he was at full hardness, she raised her hips – and plunged back down.

John opened his eyes to a view that matched what he had imagined in totality. Yet, what he saw was so much greater than what he pieced together through memory and fantasy. Rave, his Rave, placed her hands on his shoulders. He took firm hold of her hips in response, guiding her as she began to bounce.

“We’re getting married next summer,” John whispered.

“Can you believe it?” Rave leaned forwards and almost kissed him, before suddenly straightening up. The bouncing came to a sharp halt. “Tiger! July 30th, that’s when we marry, d’uh!”

“Oh… oh yeah, of course.” John took a moment to smack his own forehead.

“What’s the fucking excuse here?” Eliana weighed in. The failed goddess had been prowling closer, not one to stay on the other side of the table when there was a fivesome to be had. Nathalia was approaching John’s left. Aclysia was on the floor, worshipping Rave’s perfect butt with kisses and groping.

“30th of July 2017 is when we got together. Marrying on the three-year anniversary makes the most sense,” Rave answered.

“It’ll have been three years by then… huh.” John’s cock twitched inside Rave, happy to be surrounded by the massaging walls of womanhood but urging for more of the pleasurable friction. In response to the twitches and her own urges, the pink-haired bombshell gyrated her hips with the grace of a seasoned belly dancer. “Marriage after three years… must be the least rushed part of our relationship.”

“Ain’t nothing rushed about us anymore, tiger,” Rave purred, then finally gave him that kiss. “We’re just us.”

Life was really pretty good.

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