tagErotic CouplingsThe Morning After The Night Before

The Morning After The Night Before

byadam applebiter©

Author's Note -- This is part 16 of a series of stories. The whole series (so far) is:

  1. In camera

  2. The sins of the father

  3. Summer of love

  4. A lady's companion

  5. Summa cum laude

  6. Things to be thankful for

  7. That special someone

  8. Homecoming queen

  9. Touch but don't look

  10. Promises, rules and their breaking

  11. Fifty ways to please your lover

  12. London calling

  13. Business and Pleasure

  14. Through a glass darkly

  15. Family and friends

  16. The morning after the night before


The Morning After The Night Before


"Hmm?... What?" Parry blinked in the early morning daylight and squinted at the clock on the table beside the bed. It hadn't broken the news gently that it was 6AM.

"You don't have to go to work today. It's the weekend." Meg's arm snaked round him and she pressed herself against his back.

If he'd been disinclined to get out of bed before, now he knew it just wasn't going to happen. At least, he amended his thoughts, not soon.

"I really need to catch up on my paperwork." He protested for the form of the thing as he turned over to meet his wife's lips and to draw her even closer to him.

"Did you sleep well?" Meg asked as she nuzzled his cheek. He'd been dog tired last night.

"Like a log." He asserted between kisses.

"So that's where this little bit of wood came from." Meg teased him as her hand found his morning erection. She curled her fingers around it, feeling its velvet soft skin over hard flesh, pulsing, hot in her hand. Parry gasped as the ball of her thumb circled the tiny fissure at his tip.

"Meg..." Parry found it difficult to carry on a conversation at that moment. All he could think was that he wanted his wife... wanted her on her back, legs akimbo; wanted to be deep inside her, feeling the silk purse of her pussy squeezing his cock; wanted to feel her warm skin pressing against him, her lips on his, her tongue darting into his mouth; wanted to hear those little noises she made as she approached an orgasm; wanted to come together with her, deep inside her... He didn't have to say anything though. He'd already pulled up her nightdress and was caressing her rapidly engorging labia. His intentions and desires were clear enough. He didn't have to say a word.

Meg rolled away from him, onto her back. Her legs spread wide as Parry flung the eiderdown off them and practically pounced on top of her. Again, he felt her fingers curling gently around his cock as she guided it to her smooth pussy, using his hard head to massage herself from her clit to her perineum, rubbing him against her hot, sensitive flesh, spreading her juices and the tiny drop of pre-cum from his glans.

Parry moaned with lust as his cock slid over her flesh, He knew who she'd learned this trick from: Meg had started including it in their foreplay after her first session with Eric. Recalling that, Parry felt nothing but gratitude towards his friend and employer. The younger, significantly better endowed alpha male of this household had really rekindled Meg's interest in sex and, right at this moment, Parry was reaping the benefits of that.

Picking his moment, he pressed forward just as his cock rested against the entrance to Meg's vagina. She gasped as he slid deeply into her body until his pubic hair pressed against her own, defoliated mons.

"I love you." She husked, her voice hoarse with pent up desire. Her legs curled around his flanks, urging him deeper.

"And I love you. Always have... Always will..." Parry grinned down at her and ground his pelvis against hers. He slowly eased a couple of inches back so that he could thrust into her body again. He loved watching her face as she gasped. Lust was so becoming on Meg.

"Always?" Meg challenged, gasping as he thrust hard and deep once more. He used to be a much more gentle lover but that was back in the monogamous days, when Meg had only wanted him to be gentle. These days, she demanded more of him and it was clearly his pleasure to give her what she wanted.

"Always." Parry lowered his mouth to hers to put a stop to the banter. Meg returned his kiss with ardent enthusiasm, pulling him as close as she could, until her breasts were pressed almost uncomfortably against her ribs by his weight on top of her.

She loved to feel herself pressed under him like this. She enjoyed the feeling of being slightly trapped, slightly helpless and unable to resist his advances. It was her favourite role: not least because it brought out the macho side of her husband and that was a welcome juxtaposition to Eric's necessarily much more gentle sex play.

Parry worked his hips hard; putting all the effort he could into fucking Meg. He knew just how much she could comfortably take and he pushed that limit just a touch as he pummelled her pussy, feeling her muscles quiver and seize around him as she responded to her ravishment. He knew when he'd been just a little too vigorous because Meg bit his lip as he collided with her cervix. He tasted a trace of blood and eased his pace a fraction.

Meg's nails bit deep into his buttocks as she urged him into her again. Clearly, she wasn't in the mood for 'gentle'.

Tasting his blood on his lips, Meg pulled her mouth away from Parry's. "You're slowing down, Old Man." She chided with a twinkle in her eye. Letting go of one butt cheek, she grabbed a fistful of his hair and pulled his face back down to hers, kissing his slightly swollen lip until the salty tang of blood was all gone.

Spurred on by her jibe, Parry put his back into it. He ignored her gasps, fucking her as hard as he could, not even slowing down as Meg started to climax steadily, playing through her first orgasm and ignoring the spread of moisture between their bodies as Meg's glands were wrung out by his vigour and her ecstasy. He gritted his teeth and clenched two fistfuls of pillow as he clung to the vestiges of self-control until Meg's moans and muscles told him her second climax was imminent. Reading her body language with exquisite precision, he let himself come just as her second orgasm peaked, flooding her pulsing, boiling pussy with his seed as Meg arched under him, lifting both their pelvises clear of the bed as she wailed in the sheer ecstasy of her release.

As the slumped together, still conjoined, the moist revenants of Meg's first climax cooled on their skin, unheeded.

Gasping for breath, they clung to each other for a long minute. Meg was still pinned between the mattress and her mate and she was feeling completely fulfilled and, incidentally, still physically filled with Parry's barely softening cock.

When he finally slipped out of her, he rolled them both onto their sides, allowing Meg to close her thighs before all his seed trickled out of her.

"Hmm." Meg sighed, contentment warmed her right through as she lay in her husband's arms and listened to him catching his breath. She'd missed him this last week, despite Eric's tender services. Parry was always the one she really wanted.

"Now can I go to the office?" Parry asked with an almost completely straight face.

"No." Meg snuggled against his chest. They lay silent for a long time before he spoke again. "Parry?"


"About Kelsey's baby..."

"Kelsey's and Eric's" He gently disavowed paternity, realizing where this conversation was leading.

"Are you sure? Because its ok if..." She wanted to say it was ok if he was the father of Kelsey's child, but the words stuck in her throat. That's not to say she didn't mean them, but it was an emotive subject.

"Meg... I'm pretty close to positive. Remember my birthday present?" He was referring to Kelsey giving him her last cherry -- her anal cherry -- for his birthday.


"Yes. Since then... I'm not the father." Parry's fascination with ass was his alibi. Since his birthday, he'd spent several night's with Kelsey but only had anal sex with her. She'd learned that she quite enjoyed it and it wasn't something she was ready to try with Eric -- only Helen and B were that brave (or that extreme) -- so she'd let Parry indulge his favourite perversion whenever they were together.

"Even so..." Meg asserted. "It would be ok... I mean it." Meg really did mean it. This family's games often felt a little unreal to her and a baby was as real as it gets but she really was ok with the idea that Parry could become a father again.

"Thank you." Parry understood that that hadn't been easy for her. He kissed her softly and hugged her tightly.

* * * * *


"Mmm... Good morning." As the sound of Eric's voice roused her, Kelsey stretched, cat-like, along the length of his body.

"Good morning." She felt Eric's hand resting on her abdomen just where it had been when she'd finally drifted off to sleep last night.

Had it been there all night? She hoped so. Eric had been so sweet about her bombshell. Not one word, action or expression made her doubt that he was anything but over-the-moon about the prospect of fatherhood.

"What time is it?" Kelsey blinked as she rolled in his embrace and finally opened her eyes to see Eric's goofy grin. She kissed him quickly.

"Time for me to be up and about but... I didn't want you to wake up alone." He punctuated this with another kiss. This time he was in control of it and he made it a good one, ignoring their morning breath.

"Its that sort of sweet consideration that made me choose you to be the father of my child." Kelsey said with a smile. Well, it was one of the reasons. Eric ticked so many boxes for her.

"So I'm still getting the blame?" He knew he wasn't her only lover but didn't care. Whoever had provided the DNA, he fully intended to be the father of Kelsey's baby.

"Oh, it's definitely yours... ours." Her hand fell lightly on top of his, on her belly.

"Ours." Eric echoed. Ours, he thought. There were currently four women in his life but Kelsey was the one who felt most like a partner. B and Helen were his best friends, muses and playmates but he'd always been aware they were more into each other than anyone else. Meg was very married and, though he loved her and knew she felt the same, he was her toyboy and he was comfortable with that. He had too much respect for Parry to ever want to come between them. But Kelsey was the most nearly monogamous person in this menagerie. She'd chosen Eric to be her first lover and now she'd chosen him to be the father of her first child.

In college, Eric had never expected his life to turn out the way it had. He'd expected an unremarkable career in his father's business empire and an unremarkable love life: Then he inherited a not-so-small fortune and everything changed. But had it changed so much? He had a career, albeit not in the family firm. His love life was certainly not unremarkable but only because of B and Helen.

Kelsey? She was his 'normal' relationship: The one the media never got to hear about. They spent more nights together than they did apart and now she was pregnant. Eric had an idea.

"Lets get married." Eric's idea translated into three little words very easily.

"What?" Kelsey hadn't heard him right. She couldn't have heard him right.

"Lets get married." Eric repeated calmly. He was calm too, deeply so, not just on the surface. It seemed right to ask her.

"Married? You and me?" She was struggling to accept the evidence of her ears.

"No. You and the gander, me and the goose. Of course you and me." He smiled at his own light-heartedness and kissed her passionately without waiting for an answer.

When they broke for air, Kelsey's cheeks were soaked with tears. Eric kissed one of them away as it rolled from the corner of her eye. It was saline on his lips.

"Well?" He figured she'd had long enough to think it over and he wanted an answer.

"Yes!" Her answer almost exploded from her mouth. She flung herself against him and pressed her lips over his, her tongue instantly encountering his own as they rolled over on the bed, coming to rest with Eric pinned down by the weight of his fiancée.

Her knees were either side of his hips and he could feel the heat radiating from her crotch, pressed against the base of his cock. He'd woken semi-erect and was rapidly rising to the occasion.

* * * * *

"Honey B?"

"Hmm." B was just barely conscious.

"Sorry to wake you." Helen whispered in her girlfriend's ear. "I need my arm back."

"S'ok." B rolled away from Helen, onto her front propping herself up just enough to unpin Helen's arm.

"Thanks, Honey." Helen leant close and kissed B's shoulder blade before getting up to go to the bathroom.

"Hmm." B was already drifting back to sleep, her face mashed against the cool, fresh part of the pillow.

Helen took her time in the bathroom. Morning ablutions were a critical part of her day: more so, given what her work usually entailed. After using the toilet, she douched both orifices, showered and ran a razor over her legs, her under-arms and her pubis to make sure she was properly smooth. She moisturized from head to toe, blow-dried her hair, sitting on a towel to let the last of the moisturizer be absorbed into her skin. Because she fully expected to have anal sex sometime today, she squatted over a mirror and used a long thin nozzle to squirt a small amount of anti-bacterial jelly past her sphincter. It paid to be prepared, especially as Parry was back and, after a week away, she felt she was owed quite a lot of his attention.

She repainted her nails, toes too, and spent a few minutes applying make-up that barely showed but made the world of difference. The make-up that definitely did show was peach flavoured lip-balm on her nipples and areolae: it made a glisteningly moist invitation to 'suck me'.

She used a scent-free anti-perspirant so it wouldn't compete with her perfume, which she applied sparingly behind her ears, her throat, under her breasts, the base of her spine, her navel, in the crook of her elbows, the backs of her knees, wrists and ankles. The effect was that wherever somebody's nose was, she would smell sweet but not overpoweringly so.

Finally, she put a slender gold chain around her waist. The pendant on it had been intended as a necklace but Helen found she preferred to wear it round her middle because, as a necklace it drew peoples' eyes to her cleavage, but as a belt it drew their eyes much lower. There was no point in being naked and not being looked at. It was a beautiful pendant: a two inch long stylised vagina, artfully made out of solid gold ribbon, set with a single pearl to signify the clitoris. It was so stylised that it took people a while to realize what it represented but, once they did, they couldn't keep the image out of their minds. Helen loved it.

She turned slowly through three hundred and sixty degrees, checking herself out in the bathroom mirrors. Their bathroom was practically all mirrors, so she could see herself from every conceivable angle. Satisfied that she was presentable, she went to make breakfast, trying not to wake B as she padded barefoot through their bedroom.

* * * * *

"Morning Miss." Diego was one of three regular cleaning staff that Eric employed. One of them came in between 5AM and 7AM every morning to clean and polish the main rooms and take out the trash. The bedrooms got cleaned as the opportunity presented itself, generally when everyone was out, but the cleaners frequently encountered the girls.

Diego was the newest member of the cleaning staff and still not quite used to the wayward ways of the women in this household. He was only eighteen, from Puerto Rico and was planning on starting college in the fall. Eric seriously over-paid his domestic staff, guaranteeing their discretion, so Diego was saving a lot of money towards his tuition fees.

"Good morning Diego." Helen passed close to the young man, smiling to herself as she heard him breathe in deeply through his nose. "Do you like my perfume?" She asked without looking back at him. She just wanted him to know that she knew what he'd done.

"Yes Miss. It's very nice." Diego sounded more than a little embarrassed at being caught in flagrante.

"Diego, if we're going to be friends, you really should start using my name." She turned to him, giving him her sweetest smile.

"Yes Miss... Helen." He managed... just.

"Better." Helen couldn't help herself. She sashayed back to him, standing just a bit too close and lifted his chin with one finger. He stood petrified as she gently touched her lips to his for the briefest moment. "But if I catch you trying to look away again, I'll be very offended. I've gone to a lot of effort to look like this and I'd like it to be appreciated." She took her finger away from his chin and took a step back. "Ok?"

"Ok." Diego still didn't take his eyes off hers though.

"So say something complimentary." Helen held her arms out a little, inviting his gaze.

"You're beautiful." It was lame.

"Thank you, Diego. I'm going to make coffee. Would you like some?"

"No, thank you."

"Suit yourself." Helen turned and headed for the kitchen, She had no intention of seducing the young man... Not today.

Diego watched her until she turned the corner. Beautiful? That was an understatement. He'd taken to wearing cycle shorts under his jeans to restrain the permanent erection he had at work. Every wall in this place had massive, exquisitely detailed photographs of Helen and B and others. He hadn't bothered looking at porn since he'd got this job a month ago. All his fantasies these days were about the girls he occasionally saw in Mr Kruppa's apartment. He wished he could ask for copies of some of Eric's images, but that would be too weird. He sighed as Helen left the room. She'd kissed him. His cock was like iron and he knew it still would be an hour from now, when he got off work.

* * * * *

The smell of fresh coffee and cinnamon rolls didn't change Diego's mind so Helen breakfasted alone. She didn't mind that much. She had stuff to do and that stuff included emailing Sabine, who ran Eric's London gallery. The 'Through a Glass Darkly' exhibition was due to cross the Atlantic in about a month and Helen fully intended to go with it. She had no qualms about inviting herself to stay with Sabine and Peter: she knew the only thing she could do that would offend Sabine was to check into a hotel instead of crawling into bed between them. Sabine and Peter had been a great find. The term kindred spirits sprang to mind. Certainly, she'd never met a couple so quick to get so dirty.

By the time she'd finished telling Sabine about her recent misdemeanours and clicked 'send', she was getting moist at the prospect of reprising that adventure with Sabine and Peter on the side of the Thames... and she still had to take Sabine pole dancing on the London Underground.

"Morning." B wandered into the kitchen, interrupting Helen's daydreams. B clearly hadn't spent anything like the time in the bathroom that Helen had. Her hair was dishevelled and she was just barely awake. At most, she'd splashed some water on her face.

"Morning, Honey." Helen tilted her head back to be kissed en passant. Peppermint. She revised her minimum ablutions assessment to include toothpaste.

"Refill?" B was filling a cup from the coffee pot.

"Please. I want a full bladder when Daddy wakes up."

"Really?" B leant past Helen, refilling her cup.

"I've been writing to Sabine about next month's exhibition..."

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