Page 67 of Bred By the Minotaur
I sit up on my knees, starting to feel excited. “Exactly. Let’s just have a ceremony in the yard, and then a nice dinner out.”
Hank gawks at me. “In the yard?”
“Good luck getting a venue on a few weeks’ notice.”
“Fair point.” He leans forward and brushes his pink nose over my cheek. “Whatever you want. It’s yours.”
Hank
I’m absolutely over the fucking moon.
First, I get this horrendous cast off. I know my muscles are atrophied, and it’s going to take time and physical therapy to get everything working right again, but freedom is so close that I can taste it.
And then... finally. I get to marry her. I get to have the love of my life forever, to raise our calves together, and all the joys that brings with it.
We break the news to the family the next day, and Sandra and Mom both understand the rush. Milo doesn’t quite get the significance of “getting married,” but he’s enthusiastic about it because I am.
He’s a little grumpier when he finds out he needs to get fitted for a tux.
We hurry the preparations, renting a trellis and buying fake flowers, and then it’s finally time for my damned cast to come off. They can’t get the saw through it fast enough, and I’m gritting my teeth by the time they get the bottom off my ankle.
At last. I’m free.
I put a slight amount of weight on it, and it holds, but everything aches. Oh, do I have a lot of work to do.
Immediately I’m hooked up with a few months of PT. I still can’t return to work, not until the doctor gives the say-so, but I’m not upset about it. It means I get to be home when my calf is born, and I can’t think of a better time.
Phoebe looks full and big in her wedding dress, and my love for her swells even greater as she walks out the front door, into the yard. Sandra went and got herself some kind of officiant certification, so she sits on a chair with me under the trellis as Phoebe approaches us.
I’ve never seen a woman so beautiful. Her bright eyes sparkle in the sun, and I could just fall into them. I sweep her into my arms, bracing all my weight on my good leg, and kiss her before Sandra can even read her piece.
My sister-in-law-to-be huffs. “Hank!”
Finally, I release Phoebe, and Sandra starts reading. She put together a wonderful story of how we met that’s far less lascivious for Milo’s little ears. He claps when he hears his part of it, how Phoebe couldn’t resist him, and Phoebe blushes.
“And I’m so glad to welcome you in as my brother-in-law,” Sandra finishes, tears in her eyes. “Thank you for taking such good care of her. I’ve never seen two people better suited for each other. I know you’ll be happy for a long time.” She sniffles. “Please kiss the bride.”
So I do. I kiss Phoebe with everything I have, for all the years ahead of us.
And then, there’s the wedding night.
Oh, fuck, have I been waiting a long time for this. I’m straining at my pants all throughout dinner just thinking about what I’ll do to Phoebe later. She helps Milo cut up his food and chides him when he throws something on the floor. She’s a little stricter than I am, but I think that’s a good thing. He’ll get balance in his life.
At last, we’re off to the hotel room Mom got us as a wedding gift. It’s fancier than any place I’ve ever been, but I barely have time to register our surroundings before I have Phoebe down on the bed on her back, bracketing her head with my arms.
“Oh yeah?” she asks, wiggling with her excitement. I love how horny Phoebe is for me now that she’s comfortable with me—happy with me.
I grunt at the feel of her belly underneath me, full of our calf. We still have not had the sex revealed, because we find it doesn’t matter to us. We’re excited no matter what we get, and we’ll come up with a name on the fly.
I relish her, kissing her until she’s gasping and her lips are red. The whole time I rub her between her legs, over her underwear, getting her good and riled up.
It’s our wedding night, though. I’m not going to move too fast. I’m going to savor my wife.
I shiver all over as the word ripples through me.
“Wife,” I say aloud, touching my big nostrils to her tiny human nose. “My wife.”
“That’s me,” she murmurs back, rubbing my ears. My tail sticks out straight and my balls contract, and I am quite ready to consummate this marriage.
