Mating Rituals Ch. 13

Ryan had heard Sophie's moans and then heard the machine slow and stop. He turned in time to see her being unfastened and watched as they lifted her off the machine and carried her to the bed, where they laid her on her side. Then he was cumming again, thrusting back and forth as his cock tried, unsuccessfully, to pump out anything that remained in his balls and prostate.

"Ok, he's pumped dry," said Camille as she turned the machine off. Once his cock was free from the suction, it shrank quickly and dropped out of the tube.

"Can you walk," asked Camille, offering her arm for support.

"I . . I think so," replied Ryan hesitantly.

She kept her arm there as he staggered over to the bed where Sophie was just returning to consciousness. He held her, and she him, kissing each other silently, then he helped her sit when she was ready.

"Now you two may go to bed," announced Matt. "Thank you for the stimulating show. I'm sure everyone enjoyed it and we all wish you a very good night."

The group clapped and cheered then as they got off the bed and together walked slowly to the door and headed for their room. Once inside they lay together on the bed, cuddling.

"I guess you don't feel like sex tonight, darling," said Sophie.

"I guess you're right."

"Nor do I. Goodnight, darling. Was that fun?"

"Yes, that was fun. We'll have to do it again sometime."

There was no reply; Sophie was fast asleep, as was Ryan a few seconds later.

Everyone slept late on Sunday morning. Sophie and Ryan awoke and lay in bed cuddling.

"How are you?" asked Ryan.

"Mmmm, a bit sore, but otherwise fine. Definitely not sexy," she replied feeling Ryan's soft cock lying against his thigh.

"No, definitely not," he agreed, "Hungry though."

They arose, showered and walked to the kitchen for breakfast, where they were greeted by good-natured, ribald comments from the group there, who wanted to know if they'd had sex last night. The lovers assured them they were all sexed out. "Probably for months," said Sophie ruefully.

Everyone spent a quiet day relaxing around the pool. It seemed that even in a family as sex-oriented as this one was, there were limits and these had been met and, in some cases exceeded, last evening. As everyone relaxed, Sophie found a notebook and went around some of the group, asking questions relating to her possible research, testing to see if it was at all feasible. She found that after last evening, people were very forthcoming about their history and the reasons that they had found the family and had remained involved. Sophie quickly realized that not only could she write a very comprehensive research paper, but also one or more novels from the stories within this group.

"It seems that everyone has a story, a reason for being where they are right now. I'm just thinking about our stories. Really, do we have stories? We were born and grew up in this family. I feel very impoverished when I consider the stories others have told me about their hardships and disappointments in life before they found refuge here," Sophie told Ryan in the late afternoon.

"Well, life is as life is," replied Ryan philosophically. "Maybe we were just lucky. But I think the most important part is to refrain from judging other people's stories. There is no right or wrong, good or bad; our stories just are. This is the hand that life dealt us, we have chosen to play it as we have and we reap the consequences. Some people would call it karma, but I don't know if I believe in that. Anyway, are you able to make anything of it for your research?"

"Yes, absolutely, but I may have to redefine the topic a little. I also think it would be interesting to compare a sample of the people in the family with an equivalent random sample from the general population. I wonder what differences in attitudes and satisfaction with life we would find. I also wonder if somehow our bodies adjust to tolerate and even, maybe, depend upon pain, either emotional or physical or both, and that once we find ourselves in situations where the pain no longer exists, we seek that pain by practising BDSM or in some other way. Perhaps also any other way is judged by our bodies as being self-destructive, and therefore experiencing physical pain through BDSM is the lesser of the two perceived evils. It would be interesting to correlate life traumas with BDSM activities."

"Yes," replied Ryan, "That would make for interesting research. But then, we don't seem to have had too many traumas during our lives here yet we both seem to have enjoyed the little BDSM we've done. That doesn't seem to follow."

"True," replied Sophie thoughtfully, "However, that is only one case and perhaps with us there is the availability and almost an expectation due to the number of people here who practise it. Perhaps we've sort of absorbed the culture by osmosis or something. It will definitely require more objective research before we know the answers, if we ever do."

The following weekend it was a quiet Saturday afternoon; all the adults and teens were away engaged in their various leisure and sports activities as Ryan and Sophie relaxed by the pool. Ryan had noticed that Sophie had never worn the ring he had given her for her birthday but instead kept it in its closed box on her dresser. He quietly stood and walked to their room, collected the box with the ring in it and returned to Sophie.

"Darling," he began.

She turned to him, opened her eyes and looked up at him. "Yes, honey."

"Do you remember when I gave you this ring the words you said to me?"

"Yes, I do, and that's why I've never worn it. I've been waiting for you to ask me the big question," she replied with a smile, her heart leaping as she quickly sat up.

Ryan got down on one knee and looked earnestly into her eyes before opening the box, spent a brief second looking at the beautiful ring, then held it out to her as he asked her: "Sophie, will you marry me?"

To be continued.