Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 9

Lucy's Turn

Geoff finally gets more quality time with Lucy.

Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts. Listen to the Podcast at Explicit Novels.

I was bringing in the bedsheets from the washing line when my lovelies got home. Colin was inside doing his art homework alone as I'm afraid that art isn't my forté. From the way Angie bounced up the path like a tall, supple Tigger, I assumed that their mission had been successful. Marie followed behind at a more stately pace, but I could tell by her expression that she was pleased.

"Geoff! It's perfect," Angie enthused. "Show him, Marie!"

Marie finally caught up with our friend. "She's not wrong, Geoffrey," she admitted. "The moment we saw it, we knew that was the one." She felt into her handbag and took out a small square box.

"Just like you and me then," I reminded her, kissing the top of her head.

"You'll get anywhere saying things like that, you smooth devil," my wife smiled as she showed me our purchase.

"So what happens now?" I asked. It appeared that they were in the dark too. Did we give her it now, like an engagement ring? Or wait until the ceremony, like a wedding ring?

I decided. I took Angie's left hand and dropped to one knee. "Angela, you have added a new thread to the tapestry of our lives. Will you agree to be my betrothed?"

Marie was quick to respond. She took her friend's hand from me and turned Angie towards her. "Angela, you have been my closest friend for decades, will you now be my betrothed?"

"Oh! God! Yes! Thank you. I love you both so much," wailed Angie, hopping up and down in floods of happy tears.

Marie held out the ring they had chosen and bought together and together my wife and I slipped it onto the fourth finger of Angie's left hand. As I'd suggested, they had chosen something called a Russian Ring, made of three interwoven strands of different shades of gold. It was perfect. I resolved to get my little Mediterranean goddess a matching necklace.

There was the sound of applause from behind us and we turned, rather startled, truth to be told, to find Colin beaming at us, the drawing in his hand forgotten.

"I think you're supposed to kiss her now, Grandma, Grandad," he observed. We couldn't fault his grasp of etiquette so we did; very chastely and properly with no tongues.

"Mum's gonna go proper monkey poo this time," he predicted, quite astutely. "Glad I'm not the one that has to tell her." He smiled, congratulated us all and then asked for our opinions of his drawing. We were all impressed, both by his artwork and his attitude and told him so. He disappeared happily back inside to put his drawing safely in his bag.

"He's not wrong about Linda," I pointed out. "I was thinking about this while I was running and I think I should take her out for tea tomorrow and tell her about our, er; does 'new situation' sound about right?"

"Thank God!" Marie breathed a sigh of relief. "I don't think she'd accept this updated version of 'the talk' from me. Anyway, I did the one about boys, boobs and periods, now it's your turn."

I went and switched the oven on and chose a bottle of wine as I waited for it to reach 180°C. I'd picked up a bottle of Ribeiro in our local supermarket and a Spanish white seemed to fit nicely with the ingredients so I parked it in the fridge to chill.

I got the tray with the onions, tomatoes, garlic cloves and potatoes and glugged over a little olive oil before putting it all in the oven for twenty minutes and then went off to see my girls. Angie had calmed down and they were trying to decide her outfit for our ceremony.

"What about Padme's rainbow dress?" I suggested. I'd had nothing urgent after lunch and had done some research. Angie gave me a long appraising look and typed 'padme rainbow' into the search engine on her phone. She selected 'images' and then studied the screen intently for longer than I expected. Still silent, she showed Marie the dress. "He's a clever old sod, really, isn't he?" My beloved observed. "That's beautiful, and it's perfect for your body shape."

Angie agreed. "That's it. I was considering Rey's outfit but this is better. This is the one I want."

"You can actually buy these on-line," I offered.

"Not a chance!" Retorted Angie. Marie looked as puzzled as me at how emphatic Angie's response was. "I'm sure that some are okay," Angie conceded. "But I've seen too many instances on Facebook where the seller shows an image of the original but what actually arrives looks like it was sewn in the dark from old curtains by an arthritic chimp. I want it to look just like that picture."

"But at least you'll know how much it is going to cost, dear," Marie said. "Who knows how much your student friends will have to pay to find a fabric like that?"

"Don't care," Said a defiant Angie. "I can afford whatever I want and it's my money after all."

Marie leaned in for a kiss. "We'll contribute too. We always intended to."

"No. Thank you, but no." Angie was adamant. "You bought me that beautiful ring. I realize that it would be rude to offer to pay for that, but everything else; everything," she stressed that last word, "is on me."

My wife and I shared another look of surprise at our friend's determined outburst. "But Ange," Marie began.

"Everything, Marie. You've been so kind to me for so long. And these last few weeks;” She teared up again. "You really don't know, do you?"

I shrugged. We were into Donald Rumsfeld territory here with 'unknown unknowns' and I didn't think that this was the moment to dive down that particular rabbit hole.

"You know that apartment I live in?" Angie asked. We did. It was in a massive, tastefully converted, Victorian building near the university. "Don't you think it's rather large and expensive for just one person?" We both just did some head wobbles, shoulder shakes and comme ci, comme ça, hand gestures to indicate that we had wondered but.

"It's not that expensive," she continued, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Not for me, anyway. You see." She paused for effect. "I own the entire building. A lettings management company deals with renting the other apartments; I just live off the income. I only do the consultancy work for you know who," she tapped the side of her nose. "to stop me getting bored and my brain shutting down." She was winding me up because she knew I suspected that she was some kind of spook.

"Don't worry about the cost," she said cheerfully. "I can afford it. Last time I checked I had over two million pounds just in my savings accounts."

She looked gleefully at the expressions on our faces. "And, once we're officially joined, I'm changing my will to leave it all to you and your kids. Colin certainly won't need a student loan when he goes to Uni."

"Angie, darling. There's no need," Marie protested.

"Who else then?" Angie challenged her. "You two are the closest I've had to a family since I ditched that last useless waste of DNA. I've had more fun, romance, sex and affection from you two lunatics in the last six weeks than from both my husbands combined over two decades."

Marie looked helplessly at me. I knew exactly what to do. I leaned forward. "Angie?" I said softly, taking her hand in mine.

"Yes, Geoff?" She replied, returning my loving gaze.

"Please can I have an Aston Martin DB12?"

We collapsed in each other’s arms in fits of giggles. Marie swiped me fondly across the head. "You nutcase. Get back in the kitchen and get our tea ready."

I checked, and the potatoes were starting to cook, so I laid the chicken and chorizo slices on top, added the herbs and spices and put the tray back in the oven. "Alexa, set a timer for twenty minutes." Then I went off in search of Colin.

I told him that I needed a private chat with his mum. "You think?" Was his smart-ass response. Sometimes he makes me so proud.

Anyway, he texted one of his friends and persuaded her to wangle an invite to go over straight from school the following evening to do their homework together. Linda would collect him around seven.

"So Colin. Mia. Is she nice?"

"Yes Grandad. She's nice. No Grandad, she's not my girlfriend. We're only thirteen but we get on just fine as friends." Hell. The kid's more mature than half of the lads I used to play rugby with.

We chatted some more until Alexa's alarm went off and I hit the kitchen again. Dropped the sliced peppers into the tray, a good mix up and back in for the last twenty minutes.

I was starting to set the table when Marie and Angie came in to take over and chased me away to watch the news on TV. Angie had already taken her ring off and had decided to keep it in its box until they were with their friends. Then Marie intended to propose again in front of them all. It sounded lovely and I would have liked to see it, but I'd agreed that this was their moment.

Linda arrived on time and about ten minutes later we sat down to eat. She'd called to collect a baguette on the way home as I'd asked and we used it to mop up the juices from our plates. The wine paired well; even Colin agreed, though he only got a sip of his mum's. Perhaps, when he's sixteen, Linda will let him have a glass with his meals.

After we'd finished, the ladies declared that they would clear the table as I'd done all of the cooking. It had hardly been a chore but I wasn't about to argue. Instead, I went and asked Colin if he was okay with Aunty Angie being, well, betrothed to Grandma and Grandad.

He thought carefully for a while. "Is anyone going to get hurt?"

It was a reasonable question. "I hope not. But it's always possible. Even two people who love each other can eventually drift apart."

"But you're all happy now?" He persisted. "You all want this?"

"Yes. All of us." I confirmed.

"What will I call her then?" He asked.

That hadn't occurred to me. "Whatever you and Angie decide. That seems the fairest to me."

His face lit up. "When you've told mum, I'm going to ask Aunty Angie if I can call her; Grangie." He announced triumphantly. There were still tears of laughter streaming down my face when the women joined us five minutes later. They all looked suspiciously at the pair of us.

"You had to be there," I told them, then we cracked up again.

Before Linda and Colin left I told her that, as Colin had a homework date the following day, earning a glare from him, I'd treat her to a meal after work as we'd both be on our own. I suggested a Thai in town and we agreed to meet there at five fifteen. She looked warily at me, but I'd been practicing my innocent expression and gave nothing away. Certainly, nothing had been said that evening to suggest there was a problem.

Angie saw them off with us and then said her own goodbyes. I copped a feel of her bum as we kissed, well, we're engaged now, or something. Marie must have shared my sentiment only she went for a tit. I slapped her hand gently. "Enough of that. She'll never get away if you start on her nipples." They both reluctantly agreed and then there was just the two of us again.

"Are we being silly, Geoff? Starting a new way of living? At our age? Is this just desperation?" It wasn't like Marie to second guess herself.

I hugged her to me. "I don't think so. We have time, money and our health. The kids are okay so this is our opportunity to be us. Not teacher, boss, researcher, mum or dad; just us. If this is what makes both of us happy, why fight it? You promised, if we reach a place where you're uncomfortable, then you'll tell me. I promise you the same. So let's go and see what's out there."

"Tell you what," she replied pulling me closer. "Get the rest of that wine and I'll sit on your lap and we'll finish it while we cuddle then, maybe, an early night?"

I was up early next morning. We did make love the night before and it was slow, sensual and fulfilling. We'd both slept like babies.

When I'd finished in the bathroom, Marie was looking at her phone. "That was a text from Peter. He and Jen are coming back from Canada on Monday and thought they might stop in to see us on the way back home." She looked worried. "Do we tell them? Or just Pete? But then how do we tell Pete without Jen hearing? Do we insist he keeps it a secret from her? "

"We need to make a choice," I told her. "We're telling Linda because she deserves to know the unconventional relationship that Colin will see when Angie is here. Pete isn't in that position but, I think that if Linda knows then her brother should too. And I also think that, if Pete knows, it would be unfair to expect him to keep it from Jen. I'm not sure about discussing the rest of the girls with him; I'm tempted to tell Linda because she'll get suspicious if we're never free to look after Colin on Wednesdays if she wants to go out with Mike or if she has to work late.

"That's fair. I'll tell Pete that they are welcome to stay and we're looking forward to seeing them. But, Geoff?"

"Yes?"

"For pity's sake, will you move the toy box out of the playroom and make sure there's no lube or condoms left in the drawers?"

"I'll do it now."

The rest of the day was quite mundane. Breakfast, grocery shopping, coffee at home and then a walk to the park. "I think I'm happy, Geoff," my wife announced as we strolled. "Not just content; actually happy. My friends have you in their lives, I'm even closer to them than ever and Angie," Marie's voice choked. "I've never seen her so alive. Thank you."

I wasn't even tempted to be flippant. "Thank you too. It's strange, but making love to your friends seems to have brought me closer to you. I'm just so relieved you aren't jealous. You aren't are you?"

She considered. "No. Truthfully; not at all. What about you?"

"No. Me neither. In fact, I know you have a bit of a thing for Sue, and it's, I dunno, sweet."

She punched me playfully. "I still like Sam though," she admitted.

"So, now you have both, and me and Angie too."

She gave a big happy sigh and we turned and made our way home.

The weather was still fine so Marie set off at ten to four to walk to the Black Swan to meet her friends. I red for half an hour and then caught the bus into town. Linda could drop me back off at home on the way to collect Colin from Mia's house.

I'd reserved a table and waited at the bar for Linda. She rushed in, all flustered, only two minutes late. "It's okay," I told her. "We're not running to a timetable here.

"Sorry, Dad," she apologized. "Isn't there always some clown who decides that half past four on a Friday afternoon is the perfect time to start making urgent phone calls?"

"Is it settled?" I asked her. "Or do you need ten minutes to make some more calls of your own?"

"God, no!" She laughed. "I'll start working for free after finishing time when my boss stops checking her watch when folk arrive in the morning with just minutes to spare."

The waiter saw that my guest had arrived and invited us to follow him to our table. The place was quiet that early so he gave us a place with a nice view over the river.

"Is your job getting you down?" I asked. She worked in the distribution office for a large retailer.

"No, the work is fine, the people are great, it's just that our boss is so insecure in her abilities that she sticks rigidly to corporate policy, and it sometimes gets in the way of actual work."

"Go on," I invited her. We didn't get to chat like this as much as I'd like.

"Okay. So: There are six people in our office; two men, four women. We lost both of the guys for a full day on Tuesday to go on a gender harassment awareness course. One's gay and the other is a fifty year old sweetheart. They could have done effectively the same course on-line in an hour but no, she had to make sure that her boss saw our guys in person to make her look good." She gave an exaggerated sigh. "Those lads get more grief from us girls than they'd ever; Oh! It's so frustrating."

"I know," I sympathized. "I regarded part of my role as lab manager as insulating the people who actually generated income from stupid policies like that. I'd do what the law required but, if an adult technician doesn't know that it's not okay to touch a colleagues bum, no matter how cute or pert it is, a course isn't enough; a dismissal is much more effective. It solves the immediate issue and also serves 'pour encourager les autres' as your Great Gran would have said. An object lesson to the others," I said in reply to her unspoken question.

We chatted in the same vein as we looked through the menu and had just finished our deliberations when our waiter appeared.

We ordered spring rolls and prawn toast, I ordered a pork massaman, Linda chose a chicken panang and we decided to share a green papaya salad.

"Okay Dad. You obviously wanted to chat, but you don't seem upset, so I'm properly on tenterhooks. What's up?"

I took a sip of my beer. "Can I tell you about something that's important to your mum and I, without you jumping to conclusions part way through?"

She rested her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands. I realized again how much she looked like Marie. A little taller, less curvy but just as pretty. "I know you two have been up to something; and I got burned last time I raised it; and I know it involves Angie. Am I close?"

"Probably closer than you realize." I sat back and began. "Not that long ago, your mum and I were in a bad place: so bad we didn't even realize. But, when we came to a tipping point, we came back together instead of pulling apart. We started to make love again and realized what we'd missed."

Linda smiled fondly, rather than being repulsed by the thought that her parents still had sex.

"So, inevitably, your mum's friends picked up on her new demeanor and she told them this story, probably in way more detail."

Linda had to smile. "She's a woman, Dad; it's what we do."

"True, but imagine how she felt when she realized that not one of them was in an actual sexual relationship."

Linda's smile evaporated, her hand flew to her mouth. "Shit! She'd feel awful, bragging about getting great sex to friends who aren't getting any at all. But Lucy and Megan are married."

"They are, as is Sam, but that doesn't change what I said. I can't say more, that's not my story to tell, but that's how it is."

"Okay, I'm caught up. You're having sex, they aren't. So?"

Here we go. "So, what if your mum decided there was something she could do to help them redress the balance?"

She looked puzzled. "How could mum redress the balance? That would need a.;” She looked at me in astonishment. "It would need a man, someone discreet; someone they knew they could trust. Someone, in fact, like you."

"Indeed. This is why I wanted to talk to you. Angie is one of your mum's best friends." I waited for the penny to drop. Suddenly she sat bolt upright, her eyes and mouth wide open.

"Angie," she squeaked. "It wasn't mum having an affair; it was you! You're doing Aunty Angie."

I noticed our waiter fetching our starters so I kept quiet until he'd left.

She looked at me, silently urging me to confirm her assumption. "Almost. It's both of us." Linda was speechless. "Shall I explain?" She nodded silently for me to continue.

"Try a prawn toast," I suggested. She frowned at me, but took one. I took a bite of mine as I prepared my explanation. "I declined your mum's offer. I saw nothing but problems. No matter how well intentioned, me sleeping with six women in turn while your mother just sat alone downstairs and watched Netflix was a recipe for disaster." Linda took a spring roll and grunted in agreement. "So," I continued, "we were at a stalemate until Angie and a couple of bottles of wine intervened." I could see Linda was truly intrigued now. "Angie asked if it would be less unfair if your mum had sex with the same women as me. Are you alright?" I asked because she seemed to have inhaled some of her spring roll.

Once she'd stopped coughing, I carried on. "Apparently, your mum had a couple of female lovers before we married and, after we both slept with Angie that night, she convinced me that seeing me with her friends wouldn't worry her, as long as we were open and she was either with us or with one of the others." I took another drink. Linda just gaped blankly at me.

"So, one night a week, two of her friends visit, we have sex, swap partners, have sex again and then they leave." Linda sat, obviously struggling to process what she'd just been told. "If you want to finish our starters now, I'll take questions when you're ready."

I'm not sure if Linda could have told you what she ate just then, she seemed so distracted. When the plates were empty we sat back and she began. "When did this start?"

"Just after we came round to your place to assemble those units in Colin's bedroom."

"How many women have you had sex with?"

"Technically, seven, if you accept the Clinton defense."

"Explain."

"Bill Clinton. US President in the 1990s. Denied having sex with a young woman. When it became obvious that something naughty had indeed happened, his defense was that, as his cock never entered her cunt, they hadn't technically had sex."

"And if I reject the Clinton defense?"

"Eight."

She took a sip of her beer. "Angie, Megan, Lucy, Kate and Jo. Five women. Who's Sam?"

"Kate's daughter."

"Sam is Samantha? That Samantha? The girl a couple of years above me at school?" She seemed horrified.

"I assume so; I could ask next time I see her."

"Jesus! That's still only six though."

"We go dancing with Angie on alternate Fridays. Last week we met two nice ladies in their fifties. Your mum asked them if they would like to come home with us and stay the night."

"For goodness sake! Both single?" At this point Linda appeared to decide that exasperation was a more appropriate response.

"One widowed, one divorced."

"Is Angie okay with this?"

"She was with us all weekend and it's her turn next week too, and Lucy's."

The interrogation was interrupted when a charming young woman glided over to remove our empty plates. I ordered another beer for me and a soft drink for Linda.

"Why are you telling me this now?"

"Since this began, both your mum and I have become particularly close to Angie. Not just sexually but emotionally. We've always been friends, now we're more than lovers. Your mum, I suppose 'proposed' is the only word, to Angie on Sunday. We want to have a ceremony to acknowledge our deeper relationship, and Angie will wear our ring on her wedding finger." I looked at her as she regarded me steadily. I think her brain was catching up with my words.

"And? There's more, I'm sure."

"Colin is a bright lad. He has seen displays of affection between us. Nothing indecent, just hugs and innocent kisses, but he knows we are more than friends. He also saw us ask Angie to be our betrothed when we gave her our ring; we thought he was still doing his homework. It's not fair to either of you, him knowing and you not and, if you think this is unacceptable behavior, then you might want to keep Colin away from us when Angie's there. I hope you're a better person than that, but it has to be your choice."

"Can I come to the ceremony?"

"Do you like Star Wars?"

"Yeah, it's okay. I'm not a nerd about it like Mike though. Why?"

"You'll see but yes, you can come. I guarantee that Mike will never forgive you if you don't bring him too."

Our main courses arrived and we tucked in. We ate mostly in silence and such conversation as there was related to our food. By the time we had finished I think my daughter had assimilated all of the information I'd unloaded on her.

"Does Pete know?" She asked. Her brother had a more laissez faire attitude to life, but then he didn't have kids.

"No. We'll have to tell him about Angie, but involving Jen in the rest is something we need to think about."

"I like Jen but they live so far away that this shouldn't be a thing for them. Tell them about Angie. Do you need to tell them anything else?"

"That's something to think about," I agreed.

We sat and chatted about other things though often circling round to my love life. When our drinks were finished, I settled the bill and we checked the time.

"Are you in a rush, Dad?"

"No, as long as you can drop me off on the way for Colin, my time's all yours."

"Can we stop at the Mucky Duck to congratulate mum and Angie? And you, of course."

"I'm proud of you sweetheart," I told her.

"I had good role models," she answered.

My girls were still in the Black Swan with their friends when we got there and, as the lucky groom, it was my privilege to buy the whole group a drink. Being a bit of a romantic, I ordered a large bottle of bubbly. Not being an idiot I didn't order the most expensive. Tony, the landlord, delivered it to the table with a tray full of flutes and opened it properly. Glasses filled, even Linda had a taster- I toasted my lovely partner-to-be while my daughter admired the ring we'd bought for her new, whatever the Hell Angie was going to be to her. Step mum?

Linda also confessed to the ladies that we'd had a long and frank chat over our meal and that she was slowly coming to terms with her parents' new lifestyle; but she couldn't fault us for caring about such nice friends. By the time she left, she'd also invited Sam to visit her one evening to get to know each other better.

I left the women to the rest of their night out and took myself off to the bar, intending to wait and walk home with Marie. I felt someone perch on the stool beside me. It was Lucy. God! But she's lovely. Petite with long silky blonde hair and the build of a teenager, tonight, for a change, she was actually wearing a bra. Of course, the fact that you could see it through her sheer blouse meant that you were still looking at her underwear. She just couldn't help herself.

"Hi there handsome. Buy a girl a drink?"

She's a flake right enough, but in a good way. "Don't look now, but my wife might be watching," I said in a stage whisper.

"She's the one who sent me," she whispered in reply.

I got Tony to get her a G and T and put it on my tab. I was already sampling a half of a blonde ale from a nearby micro-brewery.

"Thank you for; For what you did, you know, for me the other week," she said quietly. "He's, Eddie's been gaslighting me for months now: longer, even." She gazed sadly into her drink and then sipped. "There was a reorganization where he worked and he was placed into a new team. Proper lads they are: Drinking, gambling the works. He changed. Started coming home late, then late and drunk. He started gambling too. Fortunately, we'd kept our finances separate so he can't touch my money and his share of our bills comes out of his account as soon as he's paid."

She sipped again and stared at the bottles glinting on the shelf behind the bar. "He tried to convince me it was my wifely duty to make sure he could go out every night if he wanted, even if he'd spent all his own money. He'd come in drunk and just want sex. His mates told him I'd already given him permission in my marriage vows. One night he got so drunk he couldn't. Of course, he blamed me. Said no man could be aroused by my wrinkly old snatch." She turned her gaze to me and smiled. "You were though, weren't you, Geoff?"

"I was. I still am when I think back to that evening. You, naked on my lap, just responding to my touch." I looked round the pub. "Every straight man in here would be delighted to take you to their bed if they could. I was just privileged to be there when you needed me."

"What do I do, Geoff? Can I leave him? We were in love once."

I shrugged. "I can try to imagine myself in your position, but I'm not you. I don't have your history, your feelings, your way of looking at the world. All I can do is ask, would your life be happier with Eddie, as he is now, in it or not?" I took a drink. "Then," I continued. "If you decide 'not', would you take him back even if he changed? Not promised to, but really changed?"

"It really is that simple, isn't it?" She mused.

"I assume so," I sighed. "Everything after that is just logistics. Moving out, signing papers, changing accounts. The thing is, you have friends, people to support you, people you can rely on. You wouldn't be on your own."

She snorted. "What? Like I'm not now, most of the time anyway?"

We both sat in comfortable silence.

"Why do you think I'm a dingbat?" She pulled that question from nowhere.

I tried to think what she was asking me. "Well, first, are you asking my what reasons I have for thinking that you are a dingbat? Or are we accepting that you are a dingbat, and looking for the cause?"

She considered. "The first one."

"Okay. Did you, or did you not tell me that your clitoris made a lovely display in your front garden?"

She blushed. "You know I meant something else."

I agreed. "You meant Clematis, but that wasn't the image that came to mind. It's your fault that now I get a hard on every time I drive past a garden center."

She giggled quietly into her drink. "Is that it?"

"Not even close. Did you, or did you not tell your mother that you had persuaded Eddie to install a dildo rail in your studio?"

The giggles resurfaced. "I did, it's true. The poor woman couldn't look me in the eye until Eddie convinced her it really was a dado rail. Anymore?"

"What about when you tried to set up my wife as a sex worker, showing off her body in erotic lingerie for money on Only Fans?"

"You knew I meant Instagram," she protested.

"Or when you wondered why the price of a hammer was important, and I had to explain to you that a seven pound hammer referred to its weight, not how much it cost."

"Alright, alright, I give up," she giggled. "It's just the way my mind works. You see bits that fit together and make sense. I see shapes and shades and textures that represent feelings. Words aren't that important to me."

We went back to drinking and thinking in companionable silence.

Lucy spoke again. "This thing with you and Marie, and us; all of us. How long will it last?"

I hadn't thought of that. "Not sure. As long as I can, she'll let me and you want to, I suppose."

"So if I left Eddie, there would still be someone there to hold me? I need to feel someone, not all the time, but just to know they are there for me if I needed, that might be enough."

I thought of Megan's description of Lucy as 'a Goddess' and Eddie as 'lard pretending to be a man' and decided that Lucy would always have someone to hold her. Even if that someone didn't realize it yet. "I am as sure as I can be that you'll always have someone," I reassured her.

We went back to just sitting. This time it was me. "Lucy? Do you ever do living sculpture? Particularly casting?'"

She seemed surprised at the change of topic. "What like hands and what-not?"

"Well, a bit like hands but more like what-not; more intimate appendages, I was thinking."

Her eyes widened as she understood. "For Marie?"

I shook my head. "No. Marie already has the original. I was thinking about a friend."

"Oh. Her. Marie mentioned a potential new recruit. A little indiscreet though?"

"Exactly. But I thought a personal gift might encourage her to be less chatty."

Lucy looked me over. "I'd need your, you know, what-not at full attention until the molding compound set. Then I'd make a solid copy, correct any imperfections and use that for the actual mold. I could make as many copies as you wanted from that. I'd probably like one for myself," she added.

"What? Like a limited edition? Each one individually signed?" We both found that the thought tickled us.

"Why can't I sit like this and just laugh with my husband, Geoff? Is it wrong to want something that simple? Is it a lot to ask?"

I tried to frame an answer. "No; it's not. I think he's either scared or jealous, or both. His new pals are acting like kids. Either he's scared that this is his last chance to do the same before he gets too old, or he's always wanted to be free like this but never had the opportunity." I grimaced. "Regardless, he has no right to treat you like this while he indulges himself."

"You're probably right. But where do I start?" She pleaded.

"Talk to your friends; especially Megan. I'll support you, of course, but the girls are going to be the ones you really rely on."

She slid from her stool and kissed me on the cheek. "Bye Geoff. Thanks and I'm looking forward to seeing you on Wednesday." She went back to her friends and me to my beer. I swear I got a few envious looks.

A little while later I felt an arm around my waist. It was my wife. "Come on Sigmund, let's get you home before any more unhappy women come to you for counselling. What did you say to Lucy? She seems a lot happier."

"Not much, really. I did explain why I thought she was a dingbat."

"How strange. Well, it seemed to work." She squeezed my waist. "Walk a girl home mister?" She asked, in a dreadful Dickensian East End accent. "Ya nivver know, yer might get lucky dahn a back alley."

I decided to play along. "Well missy, I have a shiny sixpence here if you want to earn it back at my rooms." She did and it was worth every penny.

Saturday morning, I awoke to find my wife spooned behind me with her arm over my hip and her hand gently stroking my cock. "If we could patent this," I observed, contentedly, "I might not have to put you out on the streets to earn your crust."

"And good morning to you too Geoffrey. Will it be mouth, tits, hand, bum or puss to start the day today?"

"Puss please, but could I sample it straight from the source?" She squealed with delight as I rolled over and kissed my way down her body. Her boobs seemed particularly responsive that morning so I lingered there longer than usual. Of course, by the time that I got between her thighs, that meant she was on a hair trigger. I licked oh so gently around her inner lips, barely making contact. Then my finger went just to say inside her entrance as I moved north.

She was trembling like a power cable in a gale as I nuzzled softly around her clit. The muscles in her thighs and abdomen twitching with random signals from her overstimulated brain. Her breathing was labored and she made incoherent sounds as my digit moved inexorably deeper inside. Then I escalated; my ministrations to her clit were firmer, demanding rather than teasing. Now there were two fingers inside her, both searching for that mystical spot that can; Her back left the bed as the first spasm hit, then the second and the third.

I knew her clit would be over-sensitive so I let it be and moved upwards, my cock edging between those soft velvety gates to heaven. I slipped inside her, slowly at first, and then stopped, fully embedded in my wife's body. She looped her arm over my neck and smiled. "Fast or slow, either is fine, this is for you now."

So, slow it was then, one stroke every two seconds. Not hard, but long and deep. After a couple of minutes, Marie's eyes glazed. Her arm tightened. I kept my tempo. Her breathing began to falter again. "Oh, Geoff," was all she said. She was trembling now. "Please; nearly; not far; I'm;”

I was getting close myself. I sped up a little and bent to kiss her. "Come for me sweetheart," I pleaded. "Let it go."

I sped up some more. She was lost by now. Just responding to the sensations from our joining. Now we were coupling deep and fast and hard. Marie pushing her hips at me ever bit as hard as I was at her, until I was past the point of no return and my urgency triggered her as I erupted inside her. We neither of us had the energy to continue so I dropped, as gently as I could, onto her body to recover.

I felt her arms go around my back and she straightened her legs. I didn't even recall her wrapping them around my buttocks.

She let out a long breath. Ah. So that's what 'Phew' sounds like. We laid quiet and content for a long while, not wanting that sensation to end until eventually we needed the bathroom. Marie went first, her hand cupped between her thighs. And I thought to myself, "Well, that was a damn fine way to start the weekend."

The rest of the day was quiet. We worked in the back garden, tidying the fallen leaves and dead-heading the plants that needed it. There was still some color but autumn was definitely not far away. After lunch we took a long stroll into the local countryside. We chatted contentedly as we wandered along the path and watched for birds and squirrels.

Marie announced that she would restart her exercise regime using the rowing machine set up in the garage. Her reasoning was that we wouldn't be able to guarantee long walks in the country for much longer, as the dark nights and unsettled weather drew closer. I agreed to join her in the hope that mutual support would stop us both backsliding.

We didn't make love that night but we cuddled as we drifted off; sometimes that's nice too. Anyway, Angie was with us on Sunday. Getting a decent night's sleep was probably wise.

We picked her up at about ten and drove to a National Trust property about forty minutes away. Angie hadn't been there before and spent, literally, hours poring over the guide book's description of every room, whether the lady of the house's salon or the butler's pantry. She was as intrigued by the estate's financial ledgers as she was by the original 200 year old recipe books in the kitchen. We ate in the restaurant in the converted stable block, meandered through the restored formal gardens and browsed through the contents of the gift shop. There was only a handful of cars still in the car park when we finally left, and I suspect they belonged to visitors walking their dogs around the estate's grounds.

Angie was quiet on the drive home. "Are you alright, Angie?" Marie asked. "We thought you were enjoying yourself."

"What?" She replied, surprised. "It was wonderful. There was just so much to take in, and you let me. No impatience, no 'hurry up Angela', just an acceptance that we're here so let's enjoy it. I'm just sad that it's taken me this long to visit somewhere so close to home."

My wife and I exchanged a glance. Marie smiled. "Well, my love, now you are going to be a bigger part of our lives we'll include you in more of our little outings. Do you like castles too?"

When we got home, the three of us snuggled of on the sofa with hot drinks as we watched another two episodes of our Star Wars spin off series, The Mandalorian. Even Marie got engrossed in the storyline. "Are we being childish wanting a Jedi ceremony?" Angie asked hesitantly as the second episode of the evening finished.

"Definitely," I replied, cheerfully. "Nutty as fruitcakes. But it's going to be fun. Not a stuffy wedding with in-laws fighting, the best man getting pissed and the bride in tears because someone looked at her funny. You'll look gorgeous in your dress, Marie will rock that armor and I need to talk to Jo about cultural appropriation. Unless that is, of itself, racist."

That got the girls' attention. "Do tell, Geoffrey," my wife prompted. Angie regarded me with interest.

"I may have seen an outfit that I'd like to wear," I began. "But the character, or the actor playing him, is a person of color. But," I paused as I considered how to explain. "As this takes place in a 'galaxy far far away' then the character can't technically be Afro-Caribbean, so would people from that background be offended by me, an old white bloke, wearing his outfit?"

Marie shook her head and went into the kitchen to make another drink while Angie and I argued this philosophical conundrum. When she returned with a green tea for each of us she gave me the good news. "I've spoken to Jo and, on behalf of all of the Indo-Afro-Caribbean guests, you're fine. And yes, I know she's the only one, that's why she's so confident."

"Come on, Geoff. Who?" Urged Angie. "Oh! It's Lando, isn't it?"

"Phone out babe," I told her as my wife looked on, amused. "Put 'Donald glover solo' in your images search bar."

Angie did as I suggested and scrolled through the hits. She stopped, looked carefully and then handed her phone to Marie. My wife hand regarded the picture with the same care, returned the phone and looked at me with approval. Black trousers and boots, yellow double breasted shirt open at one side to show a triangle of black lining, black cape with blue silk lining and an extra-long, thin black and white tie, loosely knotted at the chest. Oh! And a low-slung shiny black leather belt for my blaster.

"That seems quite acceptable. Angie?" Marie looked for a second opinion.

"I think that we'll give that image to the design students and let them run with it. But I definitely like the style."

The rest of the evening, or at least that part of it with clothes on, was given over to our ceremony. We needed time to pull all of the elements together but we didn't want to wait too long. I agreed to speak to Adrian and Emily to talk about their ideas for using our celebration to provide project work for students in their Fashion Design and Engineering faculties.

I wanted to see them anyway because Emily had overheard Angie describing her submissive streak in the pub and asked us to be there when she outed herself to Adrian. As it happened, Adrian was already interested in her, although her sub persona came as a surprise. I wanted to see if they were coping.

It was still both early enough to send him a text and late enough to go to bed so I did both. My ladies joined me, of course. Angie had enjoyed her day so much that she didn't want to be controlled that night, she just wanted to make love. So Marie and I pampered her. No urgency, at least not at first, just slow gentle caresses. Tonight, for our lover, the journey was at least as important as the destination so we took the scenic route. We stopped at beauty spots to admire the sights and we explored all of the places of interest. It took some time but, by the time I slipped into my slender math genius, she was more than ready for the final mile.

Marie was there for her, touching her, kissing her tits, encouraging her. Angie was primed and fell into her first climax beautifully. We knew that her nipples and tits might be hypersensitive straight afterwards so we reined in a little. Her second orgasm was a thing of wonder; not so much the intensity as the duration. I had no hope of holding back as her internal muscles clutched me. When she finally subsided we just held her, one on each side, both telling her how much she was loved.

Marie dabbed the tears from Angie's eyes and kissed her. I looked at her, enquiringly. She knew that I was asking if she wanted to make love too. She shook her head. Tonight, it was enough for her to hold her friend and lover as she slept. That's why I love them both. Two very different women in so many ways but both selfless and giving to those they care about. I'm such a lucky man.

Monday dawned a grim and gloomy day, at least for those of us who didn't wake up with a woman they loved on each arm. Once I got my circulation back, I tried to surreptitiously look at my watch. It was still a little early so I decided to nestle back into my little warm woman-enveloped burrow.

I was spooned against my wife and my hand sort of ended draped over her side and onto her boob. "Someone's touching my tit," she observed, sleepily. "I'll give you thirty minutes to move your hand or else there'll be trouble."

I started to move my hand up and down, dragging the gaps between my fingers over her nipples. "Not what I had in mind, but that works too," she sighed.

I was hard by then and I really wanted to be inside my wife. Good manners demanded, however, that after squeezing her tits, a gentleman always puts a digit between a lady's thighs to be sure that she is prepared to receive visitors. After only a couple of minutes, I was assured of a warm, if moist, welcome and slipped into my favorite place.

Angie wasn't particularly annoyed when Marie's orgasm woke her but she was too comfortable and sleepy to join in, so she dozed back off while my wife and I laid together contentedly.

After breakfast, Angie watched, bemused, as Marie and I dressed in our walking gear. "Don't worry," I reassured her. "We'll stop off at your place so that you can get changed too." I grabbed my backpack and went off to the study while Marie got Angie to fill a flask with hot coffee. We refused to tell her where we were going.

It was an hour later, as we indicated to turn into the site operated by the RSPB (Royal Society for the Protection of Birds) that she realized that this was our destination. We parked and paid and led her onto the reserve. We explored the paths, watching the migrants as they decided whether they were overwintering here or in warmer climes.

We settled for a while, drinking our coffee in the hide overlooking the lake and then moved on. We lunched and then watched patiently as Angie let a volunteer demonstrate the binoculars and scopes available in the shop. None were cheap but, now we knew she could afford them, all we cared about was whether they were practical. Given her gift for math, by the time the guy was finished explaining magnification, objective diameter and field of view specifications, she'd figured out that the 10x42 pair for £400 was what she wanted. We went back onto the reserve for a while to try them out and then back to ours, tired but happy

We lounged about at home for a couple of hours until I caught on to the significance of Marie's exaggerated yawns. "Oh, for pity's sake," I told her. "Just go to bed, the pair of you. You don't need my permission anymore."

To be fair they didn't actually run upstairs, but it was a good job they weren't carrying scissors. I sat until around ten, just reading. I did go up for a peek at one point but the buzzing noises from our bedroom persuaded me to use the other bathroom.

When I finally joined them, they were both fast asleep cuddled together. I climbed in with them, snuggled up to Angie's back and, surprisingly, feel asleep too.

On Monday morning, Marie made breakfast while Angie demonstrated her virtuoso talents in the field of oral sex. While Marie seems to be widely acknowledged as a mistress in the art of carpet munching, Angie still has the edge, just, when it comes to playing the pink piccolo. And so it was that my brain was still suffering from endorphin fog as I groped my way into the kitchen.

"Did you enjoy your alarm call, dear?" My wife asked, sweetly.

"Good God! I thought she was going to suck my kidneys out through my cock," I replied, with only a hint of hyperbole.

"Well, we thought we'd give you a treat today was we'll have guests tonight and tomorrow and there's something we'd like to discuss." Marie looked a bit defensive.

That sounded like something I should be worried about but, on the other hand, I could smell bacon. I felt a negotiating strategy was called for. "Give me a bacon sandwich, white bread, brown sauce, lots of black pepper and a cup of tea, then you can talk and I'll listen."

The girls graciously accepted my terms. I sat trying to ignore the butter running down my chin as Marie explained. "We thought, Angie and I, that we should explain our arrangement, the three of us, when Pete and Jan arrive."

I agreed. "So?"

"I think Ange should stay, at least tonight, with us. Together."

I thought for a moment. God! But this sarnie was amazing. "I agree. Pete and Linda were both allowed to have steadies stay over in their rooms; Jen being one. I don't see the issue."

Marie's worried expression disappeared. "Oh! I thought you might want us to be more subtle."

"Well," I conceded, "perhaps we might forego inducing screaming orgasms in each other for a couple of nights, but we should be allowed to be comfy in our own home." I finished my sandwich. "Hold that thought. Angie. Do you want to adopt one of the double rooms as yours and keep some spare clothes and toiletries in it? Make it clear that you have a place here too?"

"Really? Can I? Is that okay with you too Marie?

"Of course, dear. Geoff did slightly miss the point though. You don't need spare clothes, you need new clothes, toiletries, everything." She turned her attention to me. "Geoff, get your keys and decide what we're doing for tea tonight. We are all going shopping."

I'll spare you the painful details. Sufficient to say that we just got back in time to collect Colin from school on the way home. We were expecting Peter and Jen to arrive about four thirty so I sent Colin off to do his homework and the girls upstairs to sort out Angie's new room. I, of course was relegated to the kitchen, sans sous chef (without a helper).

I was keeping it simple tonight, a seafood linguini with courgette ribbons. I decided to go with a white pecorino wine I'd seen recommended on TV, so I opened a bottle and tried a taste. Rather nice; I'll treat myself to another half dozen next time there's an offer on. So two bottles to chill in the fridge. Shallots and garlic diced, courgettes mandolin, pasta weighed and lemons sliced, paprika selected from the spice rack and cream cheese ready to add. Fifteen minutes to cook once we're ready.

Colin turned up to help me set the table. Seven places: this was the most guests we'd entertained since Covid19 made its malign appearance. I asked how his homework had gone. Apparently they were studying evolution this term and he was getting confused. "Look," I said. "Evolution isn't some massively complicated philosophical idea. It just describes what happens when the lucky mistakes survive and the unfortunate ones die." I watched to see if he was still with me.

"Imagine," I began. "An organism produces offspring that are mostly similar but not all identical."

"Okay." Good, he's following.

"So some might thrive and some might struggle. The ones that thrive will produce more offspring. They will be more like the generation that produced them than they are the generation before. Tiny changes mount up and eventually they are noticeably different from their distant ancestors."

"So how is that survival of the fittest?" He demanded. "They are just different. Not fitter."

"Exactly, and in the 1870s, Darwin's words didn't mean physical fitness, he meant the best fit for the place they lived."

"So polar bears don't fit in a jungle, no matter how strong they are?"

"That's it," I agreed. "Evolution just describes how one generation is made up of the offspring of the members of the previous generation that were the most successful in finding mates, raising their young and so on."

He thought about that for a while then went back to his homework. And then the doorbell rang and chaos reigned as Peter and Jen arrived. We hadn't seen them in the flesh for almost three months so there was a lot of hugging, and 'you look well' and 'love the new haircut'. Angie held back and went to put the kettle on while Marie and I hugged our son and his lovely partner.

Eventually she returned and Peter hugged her too. "Angie. I wasn't expecting to see you here. This is so nice."

She gazed pleadingly at me. I understood. "Pete, take Jen into the other room with your mum and get comfy. We have some catching up to do. Angie and I will fetch some drinks." Everyone wanted coffee so it took no time before we were settled in our living room, even Colin.

"Peter, Jen." I tried not to look too serious, no-one was ill after all. "Your mum and I want to invite you to a ceremony that we're planning." The younger couple looked relieved at the lack of bad news.

"We have both become very close to Angie in the last couple of months and we wanted to recognize that in front of our family and friends. Angie, show them."

Marie sat quietly as Angie held out her left hand with our ring on the fourth finger. Jan was first to realize what she was seeing. "Oh. You both got closer; I see." She took Angie's hand and turned it. "That's beautiful. Congratulations, All of you

My wife breathed a smile of relief as Peter finally 'got it' but didn't seem shocked. "Peter, your dad would like you to be his best man; Jen, Angie would like you to be her maid of honor, Linda will be mine; and Colin?" The lad's ears pricked up. "We like you to be our ring bearer." Colin beamed with delight. Marie sighed. "It's going to be a Jedi wedding. I can't believe I'm going to say this. Colin, you're going to be your Uncle Peter's Padawan."

Colin leapt up and danced around the room shouting, "This is so cool."

Pete, Angie and I grinned at each other and Jen just looked at Marie in astonishment. "I know," my wife acknowledged. "It's weird but it's what Angie really wants and that idiot over there." She meant me, of course. "He just encourages her." She relented a little. "But I admit that some of the outfits we're having made are really amazing." She took out her phone. "If you say that you'll do it Jen, this would be your costume."

Jen too the phone and looked at the handmaiden's fluted grey dress with a hooded cape. "Oh, my! That's fantastic. Of course I'm in. Thank you Angie, Marie and you Geoff, for the invitation."

Marie looked at our betrothed. "Ange. Do you want to show the dress your fiancé suggested?"

Again, Jen was impressed. "God! If I owned a dress like that I'd be wanting to go to film premieres every week."

This time Marie showed everyone the costume that she'd chosen.

"Whoaw!" That was Colin. "Grandma. That is too cool for words." He looked a bit coy. "Could I invite a friend to come with me?"

I looked across at him. "Mia?" I mouthed, silently. He nodded. "Certainly you can bring a plus-one. Just make sure that you both choose your costumes in good time.

Marie stood. "Right. Now that we've established that you aren't going to storm out in disgust, let’s get you two settled in your room before we eat. Linda will be here in about half an hour."

We were sat chatting comfortably when Linda arrived. Colin and his Uncle Pete were browsing Pinterest for costume ideas and Jen and Angie were talking quietly together. I caught my wife's eye and inclined my head towards them, but she just shrugged. Anyway, I met my daughter and kissed her on the forehead as I made my way to the kitchen while she caught up with her big brother.

Twenty minutes later, I called them to the dining room and, as they chose their seats, I brought the ready plated linguini in from the kitchen. I made one final journey for the garlic bread and then we tucked in. The food was fine and the wine rather good for the modest price. The conversation was excellent and we finally got to hear about Peter and Jen's trip.

Linda stayed much later than usual but eventually she had to recognize that Colin was at school the next day, so off they went, both kissing Marie and Angie goodnight as they left. Jen excused herself early too, obviously shattered from their journey.

Just after ten thirty, Marie stood and held her hand out to her friend. "Come on, sweetheart. We'll let the men chat. Don't be too late though, Geoff. Goodnight Peter, Geoff." Pete wished them sweet dreams, smiling as they kissed him and left

"Goodnight girls," I called after them. "Love you both."

"So, son," I said when they were gone. "Your verdict?"

"Mmm," he mused. "I see no signs of dementia, no signs of coercion so you must be doing this because you want to." He studied me. "Linda surprised me at how relaxed she is about this and I'm okay too. Jen seems to be really comfortable as well." He smiled and raised his glass (we were on the single malt by then) and toasted. "To the happy triad; Slàinte Mhath." I raised my glass in thanks and sipped.

I made a decision. "I need to tell you what I've already admitted to your sister." He waited patiently. "Your mum and I were drifting apart. We'd nearly reached a critical failure point." He understood; he was an engineer. "We were lucky and realized how close we were to losing everything. For God's sake, don't you and Jen put yourselves in that position."

"We never noticed," he murmured.

"Neither did we," I confessed. "That's why it was so fucking frightening." We sat quietly for a minute.

"If it isn't indelicate, dare I assume that Angie and mum are in your bed together? Waiting for you to join them?"

I took another sip. "Shall we say 'yes' to your first assumption but 'probably not' to your second."

He seemed puzzled until his eyebrows lifted as the mists cleared. "Oh, yes. You said. You had both grown closer. This isn't mum giving you some extra, is it? She's as infatuated with Angie as you are."

"Or possibly more," I ventured.

"Are you okay with this, dad?" He sounded concerned.

"I worry," I admitted. "I love your mum more than ever, but we both love Angie too. Although, on the face of it, this seems inherently unstable, as a physicist I know that the triangle is the shape of choice for load bearing structures, and denying our feelings, just in case it goes wrong, seems foolish. So: Yes, I'm okay. The truth is that we're happier than we've been in ages; all three of us."

"Well," he sighed, standing up. "I think that I'll join my solitary woman. I'm knackered. If we're not up by nine, would you wake us? I need to get back on UK time."

I agreed, hugged my son and wished him goodnight, turned off the lights and joined my girls in bed. That night we just snuggled. I think that was when I decided what I wanted for my next birthday; to wake up in bed covered in naked women. That thought sent me to sleep with a happy smile and a lumpy bed-cover.

Peter and Jen were up well before their deadline and joined me in the kitchen where Angie and I were starting breakfast. Angie was over her reticence now that she had seen how Pete and Jen, as well as Linda and Colin, had accepted her as part of our family.

"Full English?" She asked as they appeared.

Receiving two more affirmative replies she set to at the hob. Mushrooms went into a pan with some butter to sauté, tomatoes were halved, sprinkled with Provence herbs and put under the grill with the Lincolnshire sausages and the black pudding. I put the bacon into the microwave and grabbed another couple of eggs. Peter and Jen started to set the table and, by the time Marie appeared, still drying her hair with a towel, breakfast was about ready.

Pete and I finished with a couple of rounds of toast and marmalade while the girls just sat back, stuffed.

"Plans for today, anyone?" I asked. "The weather forecast seems reasonable until later." Angie begged off, quoting some important personal matters to attend to. Marie surprised me by suggesting that we went into town to a small art gallery that had some of Lucy's work on sale.

It was such a nice morning that we decided to walk. Jen in particular was complaining that she felt as though the only exercise she'd had in the last three days involved traipsing around airports. It was only a little before ten thirty when we arrived at the gallery. There were a few other customers browsing and I could see that most of Lucy's works had red dots on their frames to indicate they had already been sold.

One abstract work of hers stood out for me though. A large portrait format canvas painted in acrylics. The colors shifted from dark, almost black, reddish hues in the bottom left, through swirls of vivid oranges and reds in the center, to curtains of pastel pinks, blues and yellow in the top right, reminiscent of the northern lights. At the center was an amorphous, almost circular, splodge of royal blue. The whole work spoke to me of a journey from torment to tranquility.

Marie saw me studying it. "Have you seen what she's called it?" She asked quietly.

I hadn't. "Oh, 'Friday, four thirty'. Odd name," I observed, still gazing at the work.

"She started it that evening you met the girls at the pub. That blue shape in the middle I'm guessing is you." Marie gave me a big hug. "Chin up, Geoffrey. How many of your friends can say that they are an artist's muse?"

I saw it then. The journey was metaphorical. Lucy had moved from a dark place, through an explosion of sexual release, to a state of contentment and self-confidence. I looked at her other works in that light. The most recent were vibrant and affirming; the older ones moody, almost gothic.

Whatever doubts she'd expressed to me last Friday night at the bar, Lucy had already moved on. Once she realized that for herself, all that was left would be the paperwork.

To be continued in part 10. Based on posts by Only In My Mind, in 15 parts, for Literotica.