Date: Thu, 12 Apr 2007 01:36:04 EDT
From: Tommyhawk1@aol.com
Subject: "Marriage by Proxy"

			     MARRIAGE BY PROXY
			   By Tommyhawk1@AOL.COM
		      WWW.TOMMYHAWKSFANTASYWORLD.COM
			WWW.TOMMYHAWKSROGUEMOON.COM

     [Author's Note: I am NOT making up this particular marriage form,
which is legal in four states now, but back when I remember first hearing
about it, it was only legal in my old home state of Oklahoma (which now
apparently has outlawed it!) So I am working from total memory here, and an
old memory to boot; please forgive any errors on that point as to how it
was done back in the days I am writing about (as opposed to how they do it
today...the old days sounds more fun and rather romantic; the modern
version sounds more like a way to get around the Immigration and
Naturalization Service to me!)]
     "Heh theah, Timmuh?" came the heavy Southern drawl with a light
dusting of Western added to it. What he said was, "Hey there, Timmy?" and I
won't do the spelling on you again, so long as you remember he sounded like
that.
     "Yeah, Alan?" I said as I looked up from my bunk. I was taking a nap,
middle of the afternoon, but I had pulled a middle-of-night sentry shift
and was needing the Z's.
     "I need a favor from you tonight, if you don't mind." To look at
Alan's face was to look into his soul. You never met a guy who was so
damned open and honest and straightforward with you. I always figured if I
wanted to keep a secret, I'd better never tell Alan. But if I needed help,
he'd be the first one I called on. His broad, plain but regular face held
startlingly blue eyes, a wide rack of teeth set in a perpetual, genial
smile, his close-cropped hair fit his head like it belonged that way, as
opposed to being a form of rape-with-violence the way it was with so many
other servicemen. You could see this broad, solid body as it plowed the
fields, fed the cattle, helped a horse to foal. The only time his hands
looked out of place was holding a rifle, you just didn't connect that face
to the acts of war. But he was a good soldier, I don't doubt that if we'd
ever been in real combat together that he wouldn't have been a hell of a
reliable man to have at your side. So when he approached me for a favor, I
was smiling where I wouldn't with a lot of guys.
     "That depends." I said. Alan was a friend of mine, but if he wanted me
to stand his sentry shift or something, the answer would be no. Still, Alan
was a good guy, if he had a good reason, I'd get out there and keep this
part of South Korea safe for democracy for him. The North Koreans were
quiet, but the truce negotiations hadn't been going for long and we had no
guarantees about any part of this cease-fire holding, which is why we were
still playing a game of "camping tonight" through another miserable Korean
winter, not too bad yet but heading there. "What do you need?"
     "I don't know just how to ask this..."
     I was used to his hesitations, Alan was an old country boy from a town
called Eagletown, Oklahoma (which is down in the very southeast corner of
the state if you want to hunt for it, which explains his Southern accent),
he was polite to the point of being a bit annoying. "Come on, just spit it
out." I encouraged him.
     "Will you marry me?"
     Now THAT I wasn't expecting! "Will I what?" I said.
     "What the hell?" Alan and I weren't alone in that tent, it held eight
cots and three of those were hosting a four-man poker game. He distracted
the players with that comment, as you can imagine.
     "You boys aren't going queer on us, now, are you?" another one hooted.
     "I'm sure not!" I said. "Alan, would you say that again, and slower
this time?"
     "Will you marry me? Help me marry my girl by marrying me, that is."
Alan said. "It's called a marriage by proxy, it lets two people get hitched
when they ain't anywhere close to each other."
     "Marriage by proxy?" I asked. "So what would I do?"
     "You stand in for Mary Sue at the wedding, and play her part." Alan
went on. "It ought to be a girl, but hell, I don't want to bring in no
Korean woman to play Mary Sue, she might think I really was marrying
her. The whole ceremony is gone through just like a regular wedding, only
the preacher would call you Mary Sue and you would answer for her during
the ceremony. Back in Eagletown, Mary Sue will do the same thing at about
the same time, which for her will be this morning." We were across the
International Date Line, and it was true, our evening was the USA's
morning. "The wedding will make her legally my wife. Of course, when I get
back to Oklahoma, we have to do the whole marriage all over again, but at
least Mary Sue can be known as my wife."
     "And why can't she wait until you get home for a leave?" I wanted to
know.
     Alan looked abashed. "Well, the fact is, she can't wait."
     "She's pregnant." I jumped right to the point.
     "Over six months gone." Alan affirmed. "But that won't matter if she's
married to me when the baby comes along."
     "So you have to get married by long distance." I agreed.
     "We're going to try to fix up a telephone line to her for tonight."
Alan agreed. "Maybe she can be the one who says I do. If not, would you
stand there and say it for her?"
     I considered this, then carefully kept my face straight, nodded and
said, "but on one condition."
     "And what's that?" Alan wanted to know.
     "You got to get down on one knee and ask me real pretty like." I said.
     I could go on and on about the rest of that day, but you can guess
what it was like, a camp of some two hundred lonesome, horny Army guys who
set out to give one of their own (two of their own) a proper
wedding. Someone actually managed to find for me some white lace (probably
absconded from some Korean whore's lingerie) and made me a veil to
wear. Paper flowers were available made out of toilet paper and someone
with a knack for making them (the talents of some soldiers will surprise
you, toilet-paper roses!), and everyone sang out "Here Comes the Bride" as
I sashayed down the aisle with a walk that would make any hooker blush, I
swung my hips back and forth and blew kisses at everyone and so on. Rice
was being thrown, far too early, but they had the rice and didn't want to
wait.
     Our chaplain was there for the ceremony and playing his part with a
combination of good humor and attention to the ritual. After all, this WAS
a real marriage Alan and I were going through, we were just serving up a
ringer for the bride with me playing her part. Sergeant McGiven was there
with a field telephone and while Mary Sue was on the line for the beginning
of the ceremony, we lost her in only about thirty seconds. Enough to let
her assure the chaplain that she did in fact want to marry Alan, and Alan
to tell Reverend William Running Elk the same, so that made it A-OK with
the good reverend to plow on with the show.
     I was called "Mary Sue Whittaker" throughout the thing and everything
got a little more solemn after a while, after hearing Alan's girl's voice
on the speaker wired into the telephone. Alan didn't smile at all as he
repeated after the reverend, "I, Alan, take thee, Mary Sue, to be my lawful
wedded wife...."
     Then it was my turn. "I, Mary Sue, take thee, Alan, to be my lawful
wedded husband, to have and to hold...."
     And the giggles started in, but Alan turned around and the stern
dignity on his face baffled it all the way down again. The only difference
in the ceremony I saw was that the ring ceremony was only one ring, the one
for Alan. I slid it onto his finger while pronouncing Mary Sue's commitment
vow of "with this ring, I thee wed."
     We got total, respectful silence all the way up until, "I now
pronounce you man and wife."
     The chaplain left out the last line, but I said, "Now pucker up and
kiss me, you big lug! I'm all yours, now!"
     And Alan grinned and everyone howled and even the chaplain laughed,
and Alan took me in his arms and threw me back Hollywood-movie style and
laid a big wet one on me! I mock-clawed at his back first in panic then in
passion, and everyone was laughing, there was a freaking rice blizzard
going on (I think some guys were scooping it up off the floor and throwing
it at us, rice, dirt and all.)
     The only way to handle all the well-wishers was to form up a quickie
receiving line which kept us from being squashed to death but had the
downside of everyone wanting to "kiss the bride." I kept up my spirits and
playfulness long as I could, but it got tiresome after a while. I was
relieved to finally go over and "cut the cake" which had been made by the
mess-crew and wasn't half bad. They'd even made a sort of frosting with
whipped sugar and spice-candies were made into the groom-and-groom atop it.
     After that it was cake and beer. Lots of beer. And some wine. And some
brandy. And some rum. And some...well, you get the idea. It got very drunk
out that night and if the North Koreans had come around, they could have
taken us all out cheap. I hear the local whorehouse did a stellar business
and a lot of love letters got written with beer-flavored tears dotting the
paper from those who had wives, sweethearts or mothers to write to back
home.
     By about one in the morning, I was sitting with a group of guys, the
jokes had run out and we were talking about military things when Colonel
Esthemen came over and said, "Private Smith, you have a job to do."
     I looked up and said, "Now, Colonel, you can't expect a guy to work on
his wedding night!"
     The Colonel laughed a little (the jokes were getting old by then, I
said) and he went on, "Actually, that's what you need to do. You need to
take your husband home with you and get him in bed before I have to put him
on report."
     I looked and saw Alan and he was alternately bellowing and...was that
crying? "Yes, sir." I said. Looked at my buddies, "Sorry, fellows, but I
got to go lose my cherry tonight if Alan is still up to it."
     Everyone laughed (a little, again) and I went over and said, "Alan?
Alan?"
     "Uh? Hey, Timmuh?" The sound was different somehow, this time he did
say "Timmuh" and mean it, not just a drawl on my second syllable.
     "Let's go."
     "Go where?"
     "Go to bed, you and me." I said. "We got married tonight, remember?
Our honeymoon suite is waiting for us." We had been given a small, square
tent about eight foot on a side, the perfect size for two men, it was one
of the wedding gifts from the men. I didn't know about Alan, but I planned
to try to keep this gift! Sleeping days while others played poker near your
bunk was no fun at all!
     That set off his tears again, Alan was crying because his new wife was
a half world away and he had just gotten married and who knew when his real
wedding night would be coming? I had picked up before that he had only had
sex with this girl one time, and that was just before he shipped out to
here, back in mid-July. And now she was knocked up from that one time, and
he'd be going home to a baby, maybe even a toddler, and maybe that was more
than a little frightening to him as well. I know the thought of it scared
me shitless! If I'd had a girlfriend before shipping out and knocked her
up, she would have been mother to a bastard and maybe I'd marry her after I
got back...if I wanted to!
     "Come on, loverboy." I said as I steered him with my shoulders under
one arm and out the door, stopped to wave good-night to everyone, and then
out into the cold winter air. No snow yet, but I knew Korea well enough to
know it could freeze your balls off without half trying. The local habit of
sleeping on their oven at night wasn't such a bad idea. They did, they had
this long low oven in the middle of their room and on cold nights, they'd
build a fire under it, and everyone would climb on top and sleep
there. Blankets underneath and a knack for building the right-sized fire
made it a lot better than piling on cold quilts until you were smothering
like we Americans did.
     "Threshold." Alan said when we got to the tent. "Got to carry my
wife...over the threshold."
     "Not tonight, husband of mine." I said. "Save it for Oklahoma and Mary
Sue. You and me are walking in."
     Damned if the big lug didn't insist on trying to carry me over the
threshold! He did it, sort of, if you call dropping me right after we got
inside being carried over the threshold. I guess lots of grooms do about
the same after a wedding reception with a lot of drinking. I was just glad
to be inside. Someone had even built us a fire in the tent and all I had to
do was stoke it up and add some fuel. Only problem was the guys had carried
the joke too far, instead of two cots, they had dug up one of those travel
beds and put it in there. A couple could sleep on it if they didn't mind
touching. Perfect for a young married couple. Let the guys have their joke,
and tomorrow, I'd get another cot put in here. Maybe Alan and I could flip
for the bed, or take turns on it, or maybe just say to hell with it and
share the bed, I slept days mostly and Alan's duties was usually during the
day, we could "hot-bed" the bunk and only use one.
     I turned from the now-building fire, and looked at Alan sitting on the
bed. "Okay, loverboy, time for you and me to get to bed." I said. "No
flimsy nightgown for me and no nookie for you. Just strip and get."
     The wind whipped up and I went "Br-r-r-r-r! I think I'm keeping my
clothes on tonight." I settled for taking off my shoes and belt, and
unbuttoning my shirt and pants but leaving them otherwise on me. They might
twist on me and slip off a bit, but I preferred that to the binding and
pinching I got if I kept them all done up.
     "Come on." I said to Alan again as he sat there, watching me through a
veil of beery tears. "I'm married." he said like it was a wonder for the
ages.
     "Yeah, you're married." I agreed. "That's why we got the honeymoon
suite here." I said. "Man, I hope we get to keep this. That bunkroom-tent
is driving me out of my gourd. They ought to put all the night-shift guards
together or something."
     "We got married." Alan proclaimed.
     "Huh? Yeah, sort of." I agreed. "You got married to Mary Sue, and I
agree to play her for the ceremony. I will admit you were a hell of a good
kisser there." and I grinned at Alan.
     He grinned back. "You're a good friend, Timmy." He said to me. "The
best friend I ever had. I knew, when I had to get someone to marry me, you
were to be the one. If you had said no, I don't know if I could have done
it."
     "Not sure you should have." I said.
     "Huh?"
     "I mean, how well do you know Mary Sue?" I said. "She's having your
baby, okay, but a marriage takes more than that to survive. The kid will
have your name, but you could have done that by an adoption proceeding when
you got back. Now you can't even go to the local whorehouse and get your
pipes cleaned now and then without cheating on Mary Sue."
     Alan considered that as he shucked his own shoes and undid his shirt
and even took off his pants. His worry about shivering, not mine. He slid
into bed beside me and said again, "You're a good friend, Timmy. The best
friend I have." He snuggled up next to me, but I'd shared a bed growing up
as a kid, it was a cold night, snuggling didn't mean anything. Or didn't
have to.
     "Nobody else would have gone through what I did tonight." I
agreed. "Man, I'm beat."
     "You and me got married tonight." His arm came over my chest, again, a
close but not impossibly friendly gesture.
     "Yeah, yeah." I was getting sleepier by the minute. "I'm a real great
guy, I know. Went down the aisle. Stood by you. Put the ring on your
finger. Spoke the vows, and gave you a kiss at the end. Yep, I married you
all damned right, the whole damned way."
     "Yeah." Alan said. "You're my wife, Timmy." And now a leg of his went
in between mine as he rolled partly on top of me and that drunken lout was
trying to kiss me! Kiss me again, that is! I mean, really kiss me! Aw,
hell, guys, you know the difference...he kissed me!
     When he let go, his breath was filled with stale alcohol and knocked
me back. "Alan, you're drunk." I said.
     "Yeah, I'm drunk." Alan said to me. "And I'm married. If'n I could get
to my wife, I'd be with her right now. 'Stead of that, I'm with you. You,
my best friend." And he kissed me again.
     Now maybe I'd been drinking too much. And maybe that ceremony had
gotten to me a bit as well. I mean, the marriage had been word-for-word
like the regular wedding. I had spoken up and said all the words, "I, Mary
Sue, take thee Alan, to be my lawful wedded husband, to have and to hold
from this day forward." I wasn't Mary Sue...but that was a difference that
my subconscious didn't seem to pick up too well.
     So when Alan began to hunch at my crotch with his, his hard cock ended
up brushing over my hard cock. You can't lie about something like that,
Alan felt it and he groaned and he hunched even more.
     "God, Alan!" I breathed huskily. Shit, I was getting so damned turned
on! That wedding...it had done something to my brain! I'd said all the
words you say when you get married, I'd done all the things you do when you
get married, I'd slipped a ring onto Alan's finger, I'd kissed him at the
end, I'd stood in line with him, I'd cut cake with him, I'd...Jesus! I FELT
married to Alan!
     "Married, oh, God!" I sighed as he kissed my neck. God, I wanted to
throw my legs wide and let him slide that hard cock of his right into my
pussy...but I didn't have one!
     So I grabbed hold of this big Oklahoman country stud and I held him
tight while I moaned and thrust upwards against him. I think if we'd kept
that up, I could have come, just like that, from the feel of my husband
(husband!) on top of me!
     But as I held onto him, my hands worked their way down that arching,
active back and I found myself at the bottom of the rib cage, below the rib
cage, holding onto the small of the back, below the small of the back,
against the elastic band of his boxers.
     I could feel those glutes of his clenching, and they begged me to dig
in after them, and I got those paired orbs one in each hand and I clutched
the sweet bulbs of Alan's ass and wished I could have more of them. "More,
more." I murmured.
     "Ah, shit, yeah." Alan said hoarsely. "Get them off of you, shit
fire!" And Alan got off of me, and his hands caught my pants and boxers and
he skinned them down my body like he was skinning a squirrel he'd shot like
in his stories of back home in Oklahoma.
     God, it felt so right, having Alan pulling my clothes from me, baring
my lower body for him to use and to love! My cock was a raging pillar of
fire at my groin, I moaned and hunched upwards into the air as he came back
and Alan smiled that so-friendly smile and he caught hold of my dong and he
said, "Time for us to get some loving done." That was Alan, an obvious
statement but in his mouth it was fresh and clean and...appropriate, kind
of.
     I fumbled for Alan's crotch but it was out of range, I ended up having
my cock jacked by Alan hard and fast and me lying under that flailing hand,
moaning, at times remembering how many other men were very close around us,
other times just giving in and letting my lust roar out as it would.
     "Ah, damn but you're hot." Alan said. "I bet you're about to come now,
aren't you?"
     "Yeah, aw, yeah." I guttered.
     "Then I reckon I'd better stop doing this." Alan let go of my cock. He
let go! He let go!
     My groans of protest were ignored by my new husband. "We going to do
this up right." He said to me. "I got to get my head wet enough so it don't
tear you up, just give me a moment here."
     And he so kindly hawked and spit on his glans until it shone in the
lights that were all around us (you don't darken an army camp, not
entirely, you have to see where you're going and what's happening, even
after midnight), shone like the silver-white moon.
     "That ought to do it." Alan said practically.
     I gasped as that huge globe swung at my ass and contacted. Hell, I'd
never been fucked before! Ever! Not even thought about it! And yet,
tonight, the thought of denying Alan anything didn't seem to cross my mind!
All I thought was how to do this.
     With Alan's cooperation and a bit of try-and-fail-and-try-again, we
got that dong's dinger into my butt and with the head fully inserted, the
rest was a matter of gentle pressure from Alan. I looked up into his face,
furrowed with concentration but nothing angry about it even with the lines
between his eyebrows prominently showing and the eyes narrowed and the
mouth open. He looked up at me then and his mouth formed a smile and I had
to match it.
     Slowly, Alan possessed me more and more until finally he pushed the
last section in and I could feel that his body was now chock-a-block up
against my buttocks, I had the whole length of him inside me.
     "You got my cherry." I breathed. "All of it, yours."
     Alan grinned and he slowly began to move himself on top of me. I don't
know where he found the self-control to do it this way, maybe the alcohol
inhibited him where it had removed all of mine (if that was the case). I
just know that he carefully and gently worked himself until his cock had
stretched me all the way and he could move without fear of hurting me, and
then, and only then, did he let his hips take on full power and ram
forcefully into me!
     And with the power came the passion and with the passion came the
surging emotion that made me cling to Alan even more! My husband, my man,
my only love! Him, only him, take me, my love, take all of me and give
yourself to me to fill my empty vessel with your love, for with your love,
I shall feast and never languish again! Some poet or other had said
something like that, I think, but I didn't recall who, but they were my
words now, mine, mine!
     Alan was making rapid husky breathing sounds, like his entire life was
taken up with this motion, like he was now entirely making love to me,
forgetting anything and everything else in this moment, belonging to me!
His cock was a steel rod pounding into my body, driving the blood in my
veins to throb throughout my body and pummel my temple, and the blood then
rushed from there into my cock and tried to burst it from within, I was so
hard then that I couldn't bear it, I grabbed hold of my dong and I pumped
it and I yelped and I came, just like that.
     Alan was peppered with my come as he drove himself in and out of me,
my come flew and splattered his chest, his stomach, it rained down on me
from there like rain that has permeated a tent roof and can now pester the
inhabitants with impunity, along with the sperm was the sweat, Alan's sweat
that now beaded his beautiful body all over, turning him into something
both more and less than a man, he was the primal beast that is driven by
the hindmost part of our brain, he was the rage that burns within our souls
when we argue, when we triumph, when we create, he was the total and raw
essence of man in that he was doing the one thing that is uniquely a man's,
he was loving his partner and he was sharing his body with me, he could be
all of mankind in this moment, him the Adam and me the Eve (by dint of
Adam's graceful invitation), and the two of us would make our Paradise
together!
     As I sank into the delightful languidness of post-ejaculation bliss,
Alan groaned more and more and I realized and roused myself and clung to
him again, looking earnestly into his eyes, watching him as he reached his
peak, watching that face as it was devoured by desire, punished by passion,
livid with lust and his mouth opened slowly wider and wider until it could
have enveloped and swallowed the universe, and as he reached that widest
extension, out of his throat came a long, sighing groan that, once it had
been born, grew into a giant and it roared and I felt then Alan's spunk as
it gushed into my bowels and I felt then something better than orgasm as I
won Alan's delight for him and wrung from it my trophy in the form of his
jizz filling my insides.
     Alan was as rigid as a rendering by Rodin, all human but unmoving, and
then he fractured and the shards of his body fell upon me, soft and warm
and pliable once more, and I patted the sweat-dappled flanks and I soothed
him like a rider soothes a nervous stallion he has ridden hard, and then I
felt the night air nibble at my flanks and I pulled the covers up over the
both of us once again. Alan slipped out of me as he slipped back onto the
bed and I warmed myself by his arms and I felt myself comforted and
protected and married and loved.
     The Army doesn't believe in letting people sleep in. We'd been given
the night off by a doting Colonel, but that didn't mean we could skip mess
call unless we wanted to go hungry. So we got dressed and, grinning rather
sheepishly at each other, went off to get breakfast.
     The jokes had revived somewhat, and I took them in as good part as I
could. Alan found himself fielding questions about Mary Sue and where
they'd live when he got back and so on.
     That afternoon, I was napping because I had a sizeable chunk of night
duty ahead when Alan came into our tent. "Timmy, can I talk with you?"
     "What's on your mind?" I roused up.
     "I married Mary Sue." he began.
     "Yes." My heart sank. Was he about to throw me out, not want to speak
to me again?
     "Do you really think I made a mistake?"
     "The time for cold feet is before you get married." I pointed
out. "Well, if you have, you have to go home and face it." I said. "You
have a child to think about if nothing else. Even if you and Mary Sue get a
divorce, or an annulment may be better, I suspect, you need to be there for
that child and take care of him or her."
     "Yeah." Alan said. "You're right, Timmy. You always take care of me,
you know?"
     "Hey, why else would I have married you?" I dared joke. Well, daring
wasn't all of it. If this was going to end, badly or otherwise, I'd rather
it ended now.
     But Alan showed his heart was as clean as it always was. He reached
forward and said, "It sure is good that you did." He said.
     "Does this mean we get to stay in this cozy love nest we got?" I
pressed.
     Alan just nodded. "I reckon so. Until they make us give it back,
anyhow. You'd better get back to sleep now. You got duty tonight."
     "I know. Jesus, midnight to eight o'clock." I moaned. "In winter,
that's horrible."
     "I'll be sure to warm you up special before you go." Alan said, smiled
at me and left, and with that smile shining like the Cheshire Cat's in the
air after he'd gone, I was alone to sleep the day away, warmed in its
mystical glow.
     While Alan and I got to keep our private tent, I know the Army didn't
consider the two of us to be married. Come the next June, two interesting
things happened at nearly the same time. One was that I got transferred
back to the States. The other one is that Mary Sue was delivered of her
child at last. Seeing as how Alan came over here in July of the prior
year...well, you do the math and see if you get the same answer I got.
     So I'm at a Stateside base working out the last of my enrollment. Alan
ought to be rotated here in the next few months and we're trying to make
sure he gets transferred to this base. My CO has requested it for me;
partly because I caught him with his orderly at a bar that had a lot of
drinking, a lot of dancing, a lot of hugging and kissing...but no women. So
he's willing to help a married guy out.
     Oh, as for Alan's marriage by proxy? An interesting thing about
that. If the two DON'T get together and marry each other all over again
properly just as quickly as they can, the marriage is automatically
considered null and void, like it never happened. So that eleven-month
gestation of Mary Sue may lead her into a precariously preposterous
position.
     Can't you just imagine the look on the judge's face when Mary Sue
tries to get child support on a two-months-late baby conceived during a
marriage that never happened?

				  THE END
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