Happily Ever After

Titania's fingers felt suddenly, momentarily warm.

"Sorry." B giggled.

"Did you just pee?" Titania hadn't guessed what the warmth was until B apologised.

"When you've gotta go, you've gotta go. You don't mind, do you?" B's winsome smile as she asked, too late, was meltingly lovely.

"Bizarrely, I don't." Titania's bony fingers moved more assertively against B's labia, insinuating a path between them and into B's vagina. It was like riding a bike: some things you just never forget how to do.

A low moan from B told Titania she was on the right track and encouraged more of the same. She moved her hand as fast as she could under the water. It wasn't a comfortable position to hold it in -- her old bones complained about the stress -- but she didn't care. B was so sweet and she just wanted to make the young woman come.

B didn't make Titania work too hard for too long. It wasn't a spectacular orgasm but she clung to Titania, trembling as her pussy gripped the old woman's fingers in spasms and B gasped and moaned through the brief ecstasy of climax.

"Your turn." B murmured, her own fingers renewing their contact with the old woman's thickly furry sex.

"No, Child. You've been very sweet to me, but even you can't turn back the clock that far." Titania's cheeks were glistening as tears caught the moonlight. She eased her hand out of B and moved back a fraction, dislodging the hand between her own legs.

"Oh. I'm so sorry, Auntie. I didn't think..." B moved forward, closing the gap again and hugging Titania tightly to her, kissing the old woman again. "You really don't ever..."

"Not since the menopause." Titania found herself explaining. "Believe me, I've tried." She didn't say how hard she'd tried since seeing Eric's studies of B.

"Poor Auntie." B was genuinely sorry for her friend's inability. "Thank you for 'washing' me though."

"It was my pleasure."

"Mine too!" B was suddenly bright, brighter than the moonlight, at least metaphorically. "But I'm cold." she gave a theatrical shiver.

By silent consensus, they made their way back up the shore to where Helen lay, fast asleep, between two lusty youths.

"Best not disturb them." B took Auntie's hand and led her back to the bungalow, zigzagging around the sleeping bodies, careful not to drip cold water on anyone. They showered together, towelled each other dry and curled up together in Auntie's bed. B was the first to fall asleep. Aunt Tittie lay awake a while longer, contemplating the last hour and trying to believe it had really happened. She had never, in all her years, seen a young woman as beguiling as B.

* * * * *

"You are in so much trouble."

"Me? Why?"

"First of all, because Eric didn't get to photograph what you just did."

"And?"

"Second of all, Helen missed it too."

"And?" Parry was doing his impression of the cat who got the cream. He was feeling very good about life with his wife.

"Third of all, B missed it too, but she'll probably be the most forgiving."

"What about Kelsey?"

"Fourth of all, Kelsey." Meg completed her list.

"Ok, so I'm in trouble with everyone, but I wasn't acting alone. Or are you proposing to save yourself by claiming I forced myself upon you?"

"The thought crossed my mind." Meg snuggled closer, feeling Parry's softening penis slick and moist against the small of her back.

"They won't believe you."

"You beat Helen often enough and you played non-consent games with that girl in Chile. You clearly have a taste for sexual violence. I think I can make a case."

"Darling, if it's necessary to save your honour, I'll back your story and take the blame. Just roll over so I can spank you black and blue... to lend credence to your story." Parry had no intention of spanking Meg. That was Helen's trip, not hers.

"Beastly man!" Meg sounded shocked at the mere suggestion.

"I've never denied it. But there is a way to get us both off the hook."

"Never tell them?" It was certainly an option.

"I was actually thinking more along the lines of doing it again, with everyone present and all due ceremony."

"Who says you'll ever get another chance, Mister?"

"You're right. I'm making assumptions. Ok then: It never happened. Your secret is safe with me." He nuzzled her hair.

"I wish." Meg knew a secret.

"I can keep a secret." Parry defended his reputation against her presumed slander.

"You can, Darling, but our daughter can't and won't. See that little red light behind that potted palm?"

"The little minx!" Parry's laughter was explosive. He rolled onto his back and guffawed. How the hell had Helen known there'd be something worth spying on in here tonight? That girl had a sixth sense for sex.

"I need the bathroom." Meg eased herself out of bed. She had a rectum full of semen to deal with.

Parry got up too and retrieved the tiny CCD camera from it's hiding place. Looking right into the lens, he spoke sternly. "Helen, you are going to get such a spanking for this." He switched the camera off and went to join Meg in the bathroom.

* * * * *

"Did you enjoy having company tonight?"

"You know I did. You were there too."

"And?"

"And what?... Mmm. Ooh! That's good."

"And shall we do it again?"

"I don't know. It doesn't seem fair."

"Fair? Turn over."

"Well... You don't get much out of the deal. I mean, I get to watch them, they get to watch us, but you get left out... Oh my."

"Ellie, I still get to hear what's going on. I'm used to not seeing. I really enjoyed hearing Rebecca though. I think I'd like to hear more of her." Robbie worked down Ellie's spine, kneading gently wherever he felt tense muscles. This was his Kung Fu and it was strong. Robbie could relax Ellie to the point of sleep or wind her up to the point of spontaneous orgasm, all through his skill at massage.

"Just hear more of her?" Ellie's tone said she knew it wouldn't stop there if Robbie had the chance. He could 'see' with his fingertips and if David hadn't mentioned it to Rebecca, then Helen or B surely had.

"Just hear." Robbie asserted. "David is not getting his hands on my girlfriend." He'd worked down to her bottom and was taking his time 'massaging' her firm butt cheeks.

"Quid pro quo?"

"Exactly." He moved on to the backs of her thighs, which eased apart slightly at his first touch. Ignoring that implicit invitation, he ran the balls of his thumbs down her hamstrings, feeling the tension there.

"I don't think David's that interested in me."

"Why not?"

"He hardly glanced at me tonight."

"Doesn't mean he didn't want to. David's a gentleman and Rebecca's self-assurance is a fragile thing. He wouldn't do anything to make her feel bad." He focused on one calf. "Besides, I know he's noticed you. He's been... complimentary about you lots of times."

"Complimentary?" Ellie wasn't so relaxed as to miss the guilty pause.

"Just guy talk." Robbie switched to her other calf.

"Tell me."

"No. It's just guy stuff. I hear that sort of thing all the time at the fraternity house."

"Tell me!" Ellie wriggled out of his grip and wrestled him down onto the bed, pinning him under her weight: a feat only possible with his tacit consent but who tries that hard to fight off a lightly oiled, naked woman?

"No." Robbie made a show of defiance, just for the fun of winding Ellie up.

"Tell... me..." Ellie tickled him. She knew all the spots and was quite merciless.

"No....no... Ok... Ok! Pax!... I'll tell you."

"Go on." She stopped tickling but her hands were poised to continue the assault if Robbie was stalling for time.

"Apparently, you have a finer ass than Jessica Alba... You're number 4 on the list of girls he wants to see naked."

"Only number four?"

"Rebecca's number one, B and Helen beat you too. You were the highest on the list that he hadn't actually seen naked."

"Until tonight."

"Until tonight."

"Is that it?"

"Is what it?"

"Is that all David had to say about me?"

"I told you, he's a gentleman. He would never be disrespectful."

"So why didn't you just tell me?"

"What fun would that have been?" Robbie's grin said it all.

"You...." The tickling resumed but only briefly. This time, Robbie really tried fending her off, rolled them both over, pinned her wrists and settled his weight between her slick, still slightly oiled thighs.

"Is having a finer ass than Jessica Alba a good thing?" Robbie, of course, had never seen Ms Alba.

"It must be." Ellie had seen her though and was flattered by the comparison.

"Well all I know is you're absolutely gorgeous, and absolutes don't require any comparisons." He nuzzled her neck.

"Robbie?"

"Yes?"

"Are you going to talk all night? Or are you going to make love to me?"

Robbie can take a hint. He eased into her, feeling the familiar heat of her pussy gently gripping him as her legs curled over his hips and her mouth found his. He loved the tactility of Ellie's body right after a massage, it's slick, slippery suppleness and the freedom of movement the oil on her skin gave them both.

Ellie's tongue played across his incisors, inviting riposte. Robbie parried her attack and feinted past her defence only to narrowly avoid being nipped. She giggled as he retreated but Robbie wasn't one to concede defeat so easily. He caught her by surprise, timing his kiss perfectly to coincide with a thrust of his hips that sent his engorged penis crashing against her cervix. As she gasped, his mouth closed over hers.

Her surrender was sudden and absolute. She never really wanted to resist Robbie. She just enjoyed it when he got all masterful with her. Alpha male behaviour wasn't a natural thing for a blind guy but Robbie was learning quickly, especially in the bedroom. Ellie let him take charge completely, just a passenger on Robbie's ride. He played her like a musical instrument, making her nerves sing as her first climax gathered momentum. It wasn't just that Robbie had such a sensitive touch, though that was a gift, but he really did seem to know exactly what she needed, even when he was ploughing her furrow for all he was worth and, by rights, should be intent only on his own orgasm.

As Ellie's muffled cries accompanied the contractions and convulsions of her climax, Robbie was nowhere near finished. He thrust on, plumbing her depths as she quivered under him, lost in her own private storm of senses.

Robbie played right through, as Ellie's taut body slackened and went limp under him, he slowed a little, took time to caress her neck and face, but never stopped. He would have made Ellie come again but she was exhausted.

"Let me suck you." Ellie whispered. Her legs were trembling with fatigue and she knew she was too tired, too passive, to be much fun for her sweet lover.

Robbie eased his weight off her, flopping back on the bed, erection proudly curving up towards his navel, gleaming with Ellie's juices.

Ellie eased her legs back together, feeling the muscles relax again as she straightened out. Shuffling down the bed a little, she rolled onto her side and reached for Robbie's balls, cradling them in her hand as she popped his glans into her mouth. She was pleased to hear him sigh appreciatively. Robbie was very fond of blowjobs but never lasted very long in her mouth. Tonight, that suited them both just fine. Before Ellie had even managed to remove all the traces of her pussy juice from his cock, it twitched and drenched her tongue with hot, slightly saline semen. Ellie swallowed his ejaculation and gently cleaned his cock from head to balls, returning to the tip as Robbie started to soften, carefully catching the final oozing drop of sperm and laughing as Robbie's hips bucked at the electric shock effect of her tongue on his sensitized glans.

They were both too tired to shower again and the bed was a mess anyway. Instead, they cuddled up to one another and let sleep embrace them both.

* * * * *

Rebecca was disappointed that she didn't see Robbie and Ellie the following morning. She'd wanted to tell her new pal about David's proposal but that'd have to wait because Parry had a business empire to run and had pulled rank to get Eric's jet first.

Rebecca and David had an early call off Pierre and barely managed breakfast before they had to leave with the other New Yorkers, except B and Helen,.

The girls had opted to stay on the island a few days and have a little holiday while they waited for the happy couple to bring the yacht back.

The rest of the guests left that afternoon when the jet made a second trip, this time to Boston. By sunset, you'd never have guessed that there'd been a major shindig at the bungalow only a day before. The beach had been cleared, the bungalow was spotless and the whole place was eerily quiet. B and Helen went down to the shore to watch the sunset, joined by Pierre and Mary, Eric's island housekeepers. So it was that four naked people watched the last of the sunlight gilding the waves that lapped around their toes. They strolled, arm in arm back to the quiet house to relax and unwind together, though it was vanishingly unlikely that Pierre would get much relaxation.

* * * * *

EPILOGUE

"And the New York high society non-event of the year award goes to dissolute billionaire Eric Kruppa for his wedding this weekend.

Yes, Manhattan's most notorious son has, or so we are meant to believe, settled down and tied the knot. And didn't he keep that quiet? The first we heard of it was this press release from his corporation:

'We are happy to announce that marriage of Mr Eric Kruppa and Miss Kelsey ________. The private ceremony took place in Antigua this weekend.'

That's it folks! No photograph, no guest list, no details of any kind. We can't help but feel this is some cynical ploy to rehabilitate his public image. Sorry, Eric: Too late for that!

-----

We did some research and it turns out there are photos of the happy couple, but none we can print. The bride is one of Eric Kruppa's models and, true to form, Mr Kruppa's gallery in Greenwich Village has a retrospective of her 'work' on show to coincide with the wedding."

"Son of a bitch!" B was livid.

"What did you expect? A love letter?" Helen was, as ever, far less concerned with the malice of their detractors.

"No, but not... this."

"When Eric gets back, we'll all go home and you and I will personally take this..." Helen wanted to swear but didn't "reporter the PG photos of last Saturday. And you can tell him how wrong he is. OK Honey B?" She moved close enough to cuddle her lover.

"Ok." B snuggled against Helen, mollified by the prospect of a showdown with yet another hostile reporter.

"You know, Honey B, it's not like you to get that wound up." Helen had been a little surprised at the vehemence of B's reaction.

"Not when it's about us, but Kelsey's not like us and their marriage is the real deal and this..." She threw the copy of the New Yorker across the room, narrowly missing the coffee table "This rubbish will hurt her."

"You know, I have an idea."

"Tell me."

"Let Kelsey take the wedding photos in to the editor."

"Why?"

"Because she can explain how wrong they were, how hurtful their insinuations are, how sincere her relationship with Eric is and how much she wants them to print an apology."

"Which they won't do."

"Which they will do because Daddy told me that Eric, through an intermediary, now owns a significant percentage of the New Yorker's publishers and Kelsey's getting those shares as a wedding gift."

"Helen, you are just too devious." B twisted round to kiss Helen passionately. "Who's the intermediary?"

"Francis."

"Francis? Your Francis?"

"That's the bunny. Francis and Daddy have been secretly in bed together for months... in a business sense. My own portfolio, every last penny of my immoral earnings, is now in stock for Francis' companies."

"And you didn't mention this because?"

"Because Daddy didn't tell me until it was a done deal. The way he tells it, he stopped trying to make Eric richer about six months back. Instead, he's consolidating the position of Phi Kappa Delta alumni by buying enough influence to get them onto as many boards of directors as possible."

"Oh." B had enough faith in Parry to accept that he knew what he was doing and little enough interest in money to not need to know more. "Shall we go see what Mary's making for dinner? I'm starving."

"Sure. Then, after dinner, we can start planning our honeymoon." Helen stood up, dragging B up off the sofa too. They headed for the kitchen hand in hand.

* * * * *

Author's note.

Dear reader, this is how the story ends. Over the last 17 stories we've followed these characters through some pretty wild times but things change and a 6 person household is too complex a dynamic to ever last. So we return to simpler things. Three couples who happen to share themselves. Anything they may get up to beyond that... Well, that's just grown-ups having fun. Sex is not what defines their relationships, nor should it ever be.

Two words. That's all it takes to explain why it'll work out just fine for Parry and Meg, for B and Helen and for Eric and Kelsey. Which two words?

Truth.

Trust.

As for the other characters... Well, gentle reader, you'll have to wait and see.

Adieu.

Adam Applebiter