Gorgeous View From The Window Ch. 01

Author's Notes: This story has been posted to Literotica. Com with the full knowledge of the original author, JimBob44. No part or whole of this story may be reprinted in any other format or on any other web site without the express written consent of the original author.

Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.

This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-Check. You have been forewarned; expect to find mistakes.

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"Well, this is a cliché," Wendell Bergeron smiled sadly as he looked around the one room apartment over the garage.

"Hmm?" the rental agent asked, turning from her place at the stove. "As you can see, the stove is gas; the hot water heater's gas also. Last winter? When we had that ice storm? Our power went out for three days but we have a gas hot water heater and..."

"It is a water heater. Saying 'hot water heater is redundant," Wendell said, looking through the large plate glass window that looked out onto the street.

"And the bathroom; those are all new fixtures," the agent said, miffed at Wendell's correction.

"I'll take it," Wendell sighed, giving the spacious bathroom a quick look.

The forty three year old accountant followed the agent back to the Properties Rental office and filled out all the paperwork. He then hurried to the St. Elizabeth Parish Public Utilities office and had gas and electricity turned on in his name. PC Nation tried to sell him a mega-pack cable television package plan but Wendell saw no need for all the extra channels. He just wanted the basic cable television plan and the high-speed Internet plan. The young lady shrugged, smiling softly.

"Hey, I work on commission," she admitted.

"Well, I hope you do well," Wendell said, then slid a business card across the counter to her. "I work at Cochin Industries. "Get tired of working here? Come see us; make sure you tell them I suggested you come by."

Keys in hand, Wendell let his estranged wife know he would be by in the morning with Short Moves. Tracy's answer was a bark of irritation; that had been her stock response to anything Wendell had to say. In truth, their marriage had been deteriorating for the past ten years. Last year, during marriage counseling, Tracy finally confessed that she was gay. She'd known for quite a while that she was not attracted to Wendell; his touch made her physically ill. The thought of sexual intimacy with him made her irrationally angry; she even had thoughts of violence.

Their twenty one year old son, Chase Bergeron was a student at the University of Louisiana at DeGarde, so still lived at home. Francine, their nineteen year old daughter was a freshman at Missouri River State University; her volleyball scholarship paid for most of her tuition but Mommy and Daddy still needed to pay for this and that and the other thing.

"No, DADDY pays for this and that and everything else," Wendell grumbled good-naturedly; this earned him a hateful glare from Tracy.

Pauline, their seventeen year old daughter also still lived at home. Being severely autistic, it was highly unlikely she would ever move out of the home, unless Wendell and Tracy put her into an assisted living facility such as Pine Groves. So Wendell, Tracy, and their lawyers reached an agreement; Wendell settled for forty percent of the home's value, selling to Tracy so that his baby girl would be cared for.

It was a mannish looking woman that opened the door for Wendell and the hired movers. She did not offer a name, just barked out that everything Wendell had requested was in the garage. Wendell politely asked the woman to open the garage for them; he'd left his garage door opener when he'd vacated the premises.

"Good God, Tracy; thought you didn't like men?" Wendell thought to himself as 'Frankenstien' slammed the door.

A moment later, the garage door crept up. It did seem that everything was in the second bay, where his truck used to sit. At first, Wendell attempted to help the two young men, but soon saw that he was not a help and stepped aside.

"We do this for a living," one young man smiled easily.

"What?" Frankenstien snarled when Wendell knocked on the front door again.

"Just wanted to let you know we're done so you can put the door down again," Wendell smiled.

"Jesus God, Tracy, really? Couldn't get excited for me but somehow can get excited for THAT?" Wendell asked himself as he drove away from the house.

His first evening in his new apartment, Wendell prepared a simple skillet pie. He grated two potatos, skin and all into a cast iron skillet where he'd pre-heated a tablespoon of vegetable oil and sautéed chopped onion, bell pepper and celery. He cubed some ham into the sizzling skillet, whisked three eggs and some cream and poured the egg mixture into the skillet.

There was no dishwasher in the apartment; Wendell wondered how he had failed to notice this. So, he stood at the sink, scrubbing his dinner plate. The window over the sink looked into the back yard of the two story converted house. Apparently, the owner had split the home down the middle, creating a west end and an east end apartment. Then they'd added Wendell's apartment over the garage and at present were converting the garage itself into a second one room apartment. Wendell did feel sorry for the neighbors; multiple-family dwellings tended to bring property values down.

A flash of white caught his eye and Wendell looked up from the glass he was scrubbing and almost dropped the class.

A beautiful young woman was lying on a colorful beach towel, catching the late afternoon/early evening sun. The flash of white had apparently been her flinging the top of her bikini aside. Wendell's cock shot up painfully as he stared at her blatant display of her small tits. Her breasts were teardrop shaped with light brown areolae, roughly the size of half-dollar coins. Her sleek belly tapered into her hips and muscled thighs. Her white bikini bottom did not look large enough to cover much at all and he enjoyed watching her smear some sunning lition onto her small breasts and sleek belly.

"Well, the agent didn't say the apartment came with a view, but..." Wendell murmured.

He could not tell how old the woman was; her long brown hair did not give much of an indication of her age and her eyes were shielded by sunglasses. But her face, what he could see of it was very pleasant to look at. Slim nose, angular cheekbones, slightly pointed chin and pouting lips.

Wendell felt like an old pervert as he stood at the window, gazing down on the young beauty. Her skin shone in the last rays of the sun from the lotion she'd smeared onto her flesh. Her smile was a soft, contented smile; obviously she was enjoying the warmth of the sun on her flesh.

He completed his washing, gazed once more at the young girl's breasts, then grabbed a beer from his refrigerator and sat on the small beige leather loveseat. Without Tracy there to give him greif, he kicked his feet up onto the oak and cast iron coffee table and leaned back, enjoying his St. Elizabeth Lager.

The coffee table and the end table matched. Tracy had bought both at a garage sale; bought them for Francine's room when the girl left for Missouri River State.

"See? It matches the bed perfectly," Tracy had enthused.

Wendell looked at the heavy queen sized bed with oak headboard and footboard and had to agree. The tables did match. So did the two bedside tables. Tracy had allowed Wendell to take the two cast iron lamps with their blood red glass shades as well as the blood red comforter and pillow shams.

"Just need a good table and some chairs for eating," Wendell mused, looking over toward the closet door of his apartment. "Table would look perfect right there."

He finished his beer and went to put the can into the small 'recycling' bin he'd purchased. Looking out the window, his cock once more jumped to full erection.

The girl was now on her belly. The waistband of her bikini bottom was a thin strand perched just above her rounded backside. He could not see the strip of cloth that surely bisected her lightly tanned buttocks.

"Oh God, would just love to..." Wendell groaned, imagining travelling his tongue up from the patch of skin between her slit and her rosebud.

He would of course take a moment or two to savor the flavor of her sweaty pussy. Then he would taste her sweaty flesh, still warm from the sun's rays. Swiping his tongue upward, he would graze her anus, would taste and smell that earthy essence. She would let out a little grunt as his tongue swabbed her delicious, spicy pucker. Then she would groan as he used his hands to push her magnificent globes apart, fulling exposing her brown star. The ring of flesh would wink at him and he would attempt to thrust his hungry tongue deep into the sweaty ole and...

"Aw shit!" Wendell grunted, surprised as his cock twitched, jerked, then spurted a hot load of semen into his boxers.

"God damn, Honey. You're good. You're very good," Wendell told the sunbathing beauty.

In the shower, Wendell masturbated, thinking of first pleasuring the young woman's sweet ass with mouth, then fingers and finally, when she was grunting and groaning his name, sliding his fat six and a half inches into her backdoor.

He draped the hand-laundered boxers over the shower rod and slipped his pajamas on. Looking through the frosted glass of the bathroom, Wendell could tell that it was getting dark. The sweet little honeypot was probably already back in her apartment. Wendell wondered if she lived in Apartment A, the apartment at the west end, or Apartment B, the apartment next to his. The agent had said there were two bedrooms and two bathrooms with those units so the girl probably had a roommate, possibly more than one. Wendell remember when he and Tracy first started dating, he and three other young men rented a two bedroom apartment.

"Of course Paul and Scott only needed the one bedroom," Wendell remember. He shuddered slightly, remembering the sounds that bled through the wall of their bedroom.

He had taken the second bedroom and His bed was right up against their bedroom wall. Wendell had no choice but to listen to their passion, night after night.

Foster took the living room but kept his clothes in Wendell's closet and dresser. And, even with four young men splitting six hundred and fifty dollars a month for rent plus utilities and cable bill split four ways, often they were short of rent.

Tracy had been twenty five years old when she and Wendell began dating. After just one night of listening to Paul and Scott's passion, the twenty year old Wendell began spending more and more time at her rented condominium. Shortly after they celebrated one year of dating, Tracy announced her pregnancy. Of course, by that time, Paul, Scott and Foster had been evicted from that rental.

When Wendell announced that he was leaving their home, Chase had let his father have the thirty two inch television monitor from his room. Tracy had immediately run out and bought Chase a brand new thirty six inch television. A thirty six inch television for a bedroom that was twelve feet by twelve feet.

The television sat on the top of the oak tall dresser. The low dresser fit perfectly underneath the picture window, if the mirror was removed. Right now the mirror sat in the long, narrow closet.

Wendell fell asleep with the television on. After more than two decades of sleeping next to a woman that swore up and down and on her mother's grave that she did not snore, it was impossible to fall asleep without some noise.

In the morning, Wendell made himself some toaster waffles and a cup of coffee with the old Kuerig coffee maker. Then he dressed for nine thirty Mass at St. Thomas Aquinas.

As he walked around the corner of the garage, he saw his beautiful neighbor. Her back was to him, her waist-length deep brown hair was loose and blowing gently in the light breeze. Her skirt was very short, showing off her lovely tanned legs in her five inch heels. Her arms were bare in her sleeveless blouse and Wendell saw a small heart tattoo on her right bicep.

She was on her cell phone, arguing with someone. She even stamped her foot in irritation.

"But, but I need to get to church!" she whined.

Wendell saw that her rear tire was flat. When the beautiful young girl saw Wendell approaching, she pointedly turned her back to him. The door to her car was open so Wendell reached in and flicked the lever for the trunk of her compact car.

"What? Uh, excuse me? What are you doing?" the girl spluttered. "I'm on the phone with Triple A right now."

Wendell figured out how to wrest the jack and doughnut spare tire from the surprisingly clean trunk of her car. Francine had a similar car and he'd shown his daughter how to change her tire before she drove from DeGarde, Louisiana to the campus of Missouri River State Univiersity.

"Never mind. Cancel the service," the girl snapped into her cell phone and dropped the phone into her purse.

"Now, soon as you can? You need to have the old tire patched; these doughnuts are not supposed to be driven on for very long," Wendell said, dropping her old tire and the jack into her trunk. "See you, neighbor."

He had a package of sanitary hand wipes in his truck; Pauline was prone to make a mess. After wiping his grimy hands, he backed out of the driveway and hurried to church.

"Hi Pumpkin," Wendell said, sliding into the pew next to his daughter.

A brief smile let him know his daughter had heard him. But she did not respond, just continued to stare straight ahead at the candle flickering to the left of the altar. Tracy pointedly ignored Wendell but he had not expected any greeting from her. Wendell did notice that Frankenstein was not with her.

"God damn; get everything you want and you're still not happy?" Wendell thought as Mass began.

Pauline needed to be urged to stand, to sit, to kneel. When the deacon bade everyone to share the sign of peace with one another, Pauline did not respond to her father's hug. She did respond to Tracy's hug with a mild grunt of disapproval and an effort to break out of the hug. Wendell thought that his was very interesting but knew Tracy would not share any information with him.

For the Eucharist procession, Wendell gently guided Pauline toward the aisle. Monsignor Hennessey smiled warmly and offered a blessing to the mute child. He then offered the host to Wendell.

"Amen, and thank you," Wendell said quietly, then held onto his daughter's hand as they returned to the pew where a grumpy Tracy waited. After the deacon called an end to the Mass, Wendell hugged his unresponsive daughter, nodded politely to Tracy, then joined the bustling throng of people pushing to escape the church.

The neighbor's car was not in the drive when Wendell returned. He did not know what church she might belong to but knew most churches tended to follow the dictate of 'hold them as long as you can' when it came to their services.

"Know what? She ain't here to bitch about my breath," Wendell thought and decided to make himself a garlic peanut chicken dish he'd seen some television chef do once.

He looked up the recipe on the Channel 12 website; all of the Cast Iron Stomach's recipes were accessible.

The rice was just about done when Wendell thought he heard the metal steps outside give a creak and groan. His suspicions were confirmed when there was a light knock on his door.

"Hiyah neighbor," the beautiful brunette smiled, holding a plate of cookies in her hands.

"Hiyah neighbor," Wendell smiled at her wide, happy smile.

"I told my mom what you done and she made some chocolate chip cookies for you," the girl announced, thrusting the plate toward him.

"Oh! Well, you, she didn't have to do that!" Wendell said. "But thank you very much!"

"Welcome. Only way she was willing let me get out on my own was if I PROMISED I would go to church every Sunday," the girl prattled, entering the apartment. "Oh! This is cute! What you making? That smells amazing. Where'd you get those lamps? I love them. Now I kind of wished I'd taken this one when I took Apartment B but Jillian swore up and down that she and Dulan were broken up and would never ever in a million years ever be getting back together again but..."

Somehow, Trine Karlsen invited herself for lunch. She continued to chatter; Wendell saw that his participation was not needed. When he made mention that his ex-wife had not liked this particular dish and would not kiss him afterward, even after he flossed, brushed and gargled, Trine assured him she would kiss him.

She did kiss him. The first kiss was a playful, loud smack on the lips. The second kiss involved her arms around his neck and her tongue probing his mouth. Then she ate the majority of the cookies she'd brought with her. This was fine by Wendell; he was fighting against developing a 'Dad Bod.'

"So, what's for supper?" she asked, skipping to the door.

"Leftover skillet pie," Wendell decided, looking at the over the range microwave oven.

"Okay. Oh! You got beer?" Trine asked.

"Yeah, yes, I have, mm, one, two; I've got four beers," Wendell agreed, peering into his small refrigerator.

"Six thirty?" Trine asked but disappeared before Wendell could affirm.

He divided the peanut chicken into three storage containers; he had lunch for the next few days. Then, stepping into the bathroom, he again stroked his throbbing erection to thoughts of the cute, bubbly, and very sexy eighteen year old Trine Karlsen. Then, he flossed, brushed his teeth, then gargled.

"God, no football sucks and baseball is too slow," Wendell thought, trying to find something to watch on television.

"Lolitas, Lolitas," Wendell mused, looking through an Internet porn site on his laptop computer.

He quickly tired of a 'Lolita' that did not look like a sweet faced teenager, despite blowing bubbles with her gum. With nothing better to do, Wendell took a nap.

Trine showed up at six forty five, dressed in white bikini, skin shiny with oil. She offered no apology or explanation for being fifteen minutes late. She ate the skillet pie and complimented Wendell on his cooking abilities. She admitted she had trouble heating a can of soup without scorching it. The beer seemed to ramp up her desires and she and Wendell kissed passionately. Then she wiggled out of her bikini top, exposing her sweet little titties. She gave him another kiss then flopped on his bed. Her brown eyes opened wide and she rolled a few times on the bed.

"Oh wow, what kind of bed is this? I have a Purple mattress; they're supposed be so great but to me? Eh! It's all right, but this, oh my God, it's like..." Trine babbled as Wendell shrugged out of his shirt. "You work out? Looks like you work out.

The sight of his twitching, drooling erection did stop her chatter for a moment. She knee-walked on his Tempurpedic mattress and gripped Wendell's cock in her hand. With a mischievous grin up at him, Trine bent and took the mushroom shaped head into her warm mouth. She moaned with approval as her tongue tasted his excitement. Her small hand jacked him for a moment.

"Trine, I, I'm not going..." Wendell warned.

"Go ahead," Trine husked, voice thick. "I just love..."

Thus saying, she swallowed him down to the root. Her hot tongue waggled furiously at the shaft of his cock. Suddenly, she pulled her mouth off of his cock with a loud 'op!'

"Come on; get on the bed," she ordered, wiggling out of her white bikini bottom.

Wendell groaned, looking at her pretty bald pussy. He had begged and bargained, but Tracy would not even trim her thick thatch of unruly brown fur.

"LIKE IT?" Trine smiled, fingers parting her puffy lips for his inspection.

"Oh yeah," Wendell enthused, crawling onto the bed and grabbing her thighs.

"Oh! Oh I do love a man goes for what he wants," Trine groaned as Wendell feasted on her wet pussy.

She had a good, healthy smell and taste. Her clitoris was fat, roughly the size of a small thumb. She squealed and groaned as he sucked on the nub for a moment.

"Oh, oh you, yes..." Trine grunted as Wendell thrust two fingers into her pussy, searching for her g-spot.

Her orgasm was a loud one. Her second orgasm was louder and longer as Wendell massaged her g-spot while sucking on her clitoris.

When he lay down next to her on the bed, Trine bent her head and worked to finish what she had started. She thrust her left hand between her legs as she bobbed her head up and down, noisily sucking on his cock.

"Here, augh, I oh God," Wendell groaned and Trine gurgled happily.

When he caught his breath, he and Trine shared a few misses. Then he twisted her onto her belly. She looked at him over her shoulder as he knelt behind her.

"Oh! Oh God, you going..." Trine moaned as Wendell began tonguing the patch between vulva and anus. "Oh, oh that, yes!"

Loudly, she demanded that he eat her ass. She ordered him to eat it good. When he reached underneath and pinched her clitoris between thumb and forefinger, Trine shrieked in climax. Thrusting a finger into her rectum brought on a barrage of new demands and orders from the little sexpot.

Wendell located the opened but never used tube of lubricant in his bedside table. Trine assisted Wendell's efforts by rising onto her knees and pulling her fleshy buttocks apart.

"Oh God damn, God damn, I, augh!" Trine screamed as the head of Wendell's cock pressed against her greasy anus.

The heat and tightness were deliciously maddening. Wendell could feel her muscles rippling, squeezing, attempting to resist the unnatural intrusion. Pulling his right hand from her hips, Wendell reached down and grabbed her right breast.

Trine seemed to like having her small breasts treated roughly. She seemed to like anal sex also; within moments of that first stab of Wendell's cock, she was vigorously pushing back to meet his forward thrusts.

"Aieegh!" Trine howled when Wendell released her breast and flicked his hard fingernail against her clitoris.

"Aw fuck!" Wendell barked out, blasting her bowels with his semen.

When he caught his breath, Wendell pulled his slimy cock from her guts. She remained on her knees, face twisted in pleasure. Wendell wobbled to his bathroom and retrieved a face cloth. He wet the cloth and brought it into the bedroom.

His semen was bubbling, dripping from her stretched, raw anus. She cooed as he dabbed her flesh clean.

"Well, that's one way of avoiding getting knocked up," Trine observed when Wendell returned from the bathroom.

"Yeah. I mean, it's not foolproof, but..." Wendell smiled, flopping onto the bed next to her.

Her kisses were hot and demanding. When he began to respond to her kisses and touches, Trine swung her leg over his hips and squatted onto his cock.

"Oh, oh yes, oh God," Trine squealed as he mauled her breasts.

She managed to bounce to two orgasms before Wendell stiffened and pumped a load of semen into her clutching depths.

When he wobbled from the bathroom after emptying his swollen bladder, she was gone. Wendell shuffled to the door and locked both bottom knob and deadbolt. He smiled; her mother's plate of cookies was gone. There had been two cookies remaining but apparently, sex made Trine hungry.

"And thirsty," Wendell deduced when he reached for one of the two remaining beers but saw that she'd taken both cans on her way out of the door.

In the morning, their paths crossed. She gave him a sweet smile and laugh when he complained about her pilfering the cookies; he said nothing about the beers.

"Hold still," she ordered, cell phone in hand.

"Hmm?" Wendell asked, pausing by the door of his pickup truck.

"My mom loves a man in a suit," Trine said.

"And she loves pickup trucks," Trine said, skipping to her car.

"Good to know," Wendell smiled and watched as she left for another day's studies at the St. Elizabeth Parish Vo-Tech.

Two days later, Wendell answered a knock at his door and a thoroughly enraged Trine came in, demanding beer. After guzzling half a can of beer, Trine announced that she was moving out; Jillian and Dylan had moved into Apartment B.

"I told her, I told that stupid bitch," Trine shrilled. "I told her, I will not live here if that asshole Dylan Stromberg comes anywhere near this place. And she swore up and down there wasn't no way she'd ever let him nowhere near this place."

"So, what, what are you going to do?" Wendell asked.

"Moving out," Trine declared. "Already called TAB and told them."

"Oh, well, sorry to hear that. I'll miss you," Wendell admitted and she smiled tightly.

They did not have sex but Wendell still enjoyed the sweet and soft kiss she gave him at the door. With a 'see you later' she was gone.

Wendell was surprised at the speed in which Trine managed to move out of the apartment. He saw the new neighbors; he never did meet them. Jillian was a stunning red head and Dylan was a very handsome young man with shaggy brown hair and easy smile. But they never introduced themselves and Wendell was often gone before they were awake and they came home long after Wendell was already in his pajamas.

"My mom wants to cook you her world famous lasagna," Wendell read on his phone one day.

The phone number was private. The message was odd enough, but with no phone number to associate with the text, Wendell was at a loss.

"Who is this?" he replied.

"Trine," was the response.

Wendell remembered the woman's cookies and knew she was a decent cook. So he agreed and was sent a Hardinton Acres address. His eyebrows shot up; Hardington Acres in St. Ann Parish had multi-million dollar estates; there were no lower middle class housing in Hardington Acres.

After a grueling day's work the following evening, Wendell stopped off at the local Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store and picked up a bottle of wine an app on his phone had suggested. He also found a vase with a fresh Spring Floral arrangement and bought that as well. He followed the chattering directions his cell phone provided and soon enough was pulling in front of a gleaming white brick monstrosity. He knew he had the right house; Trine's car was parked in the driveway.

"Hi!" Trine answered the door, smiling. "Mom! He's here!"

"Then let him in; what is wrong with you?" Wendell heard a melodic voice giggle. "Swear to God you don't have any sense."

Wendell was struck by how much mother and daughter resembled one another. Both sported waist-length brown hair, angular faces with deep brown eyes, and slim physiques.

"Oh! I do love a man in a suit," Rayna Karlsen said when Trine led him into the kitchen.

Wendell had remembered Trine's comment so had not taken the time to change out of his suit. He caught Trine's satisfied little smirk and nodded in agreement.

"Oh! Flowers! Aren't you sweet?" Rayna said, accepting the vase. "Be about another ten minutes then I can put the garlic bread in. Trine, be a dear and put these on the table, okay?""

"It, it smells amazing in here," Wendell said, giving the air an appreciative sniff.

"I, I just love to cook," Rayna admitted, popping the cork for the wine bottle to allow it to breathe. "When I was pregnant with this one, I'd get in the kitchen, whip up something quick and easy then eat it all up."

"That was when you were in that little shack?" Trine verified.

"Yes. Grandpa had kicked me out but in truth? It was his own fault. I mean, what did he think would happen when he kept sneaking into my room?" Rayna said, opening the oven and sliding a tray into the searing heat.

"What?" Wendell asked, not sure he'd heard right.

"You may have noticed, my daughter and I look a great deal alike," Rayna said.

"Because we have the same daddy," Trine said.

"Oh," Wendell said, not knowing what else to say.

A moment later, Rayna brought both lasagna and garlic bread from the oven. She directed Wendell and Trine to the dining room, telling Wendell to bring the wine and pour three glasses.

In the dining room, Wendell informed Trine that he had seen, but not spoken to Dylan and Jillian. Trine made a disgusted face at the mention of her former friend and her former friend's boyfriend. Then, over the sounds of Rayna fumbling about in the kitchen, Trine filled Wendell's ear with nothing but words. She loved her new apartment; there was a swimming pool. Her classes at the Vo-Tech were hard; Wendell was not sure what she was studying.

"Tomorrow's my mom's birthday," Trine whispered into Wendell's ear. "She's going be thirty five. You need to get her a card or something."

"Will do," Wendell promised and Trine smiled.

The meal was delicious. Wendell loved a good lasagna; this was a great lasagna. Rayna favored a mixture of ground beef, ground pork, and ground veal. The sauce, homemade, was thick and rich. She'd been making the meal since nine that morning. Even the pasta was made by hand, not from a package.

The conversation, once steered from how Rayna made her own pasta, was lively. Rayna was very interested in Wendell's job, was very interested in Cochin Industries. She was also interested in art, wine, travel.

"She's been to fifty four countries," Trine informed Wendell.

"Fifty five if you count the Avignon Islands," Rayna smiled. "I ever get married? That's where I'd love to go for my winter honeymoon."

"Winter honeymoon?" Wendell asked.

"Mm hmm. And the summer honeymoon would have to be on the island of Nyrsol. See, there's the hot springs? You bathe in them in the nude, then get out and fling yourself into the snow?" Rayna enthused.

"Summer honeymoon?" Wendell asked. "Um, how many honeymoons are you going to have?"

"As many as I want," Rayna giggled.

"But the autumn honeymoon has to be in Maine," Trine suggested.

"Oh, yes!" Rayna agreed. "Oh! The changing of the leaves? Breathtaking."

"And it doesn't hurt that marijuana is legal there," Trine suggested.

"Oh, that is definitely a plus," Rayna agreed. "But, Trine, marijuana is legal just about everywhere now."

"Not in Louisiana," Wendell said. "So, where is the spring honeymoon going to be?"

"Probably Botany Bay. Australia. See, that's actually their winter season," Rayna suggested.

After coffee and cheesecake, Rayna gave Wendell a passionate closed mouth kiss and thanked him again for the beautiful flowers. He was unlocking the door of his pickup truck when Trine came out of the house.

"Ooh, she likes you," Trine giggled.

"So, what, what's her favorite kind of cake?" Wendell asked.

"Devil's food with chocolate ganache icing," Trine said.

Wendell raced to the Burns & Burns Grocers grocery store and managed to get to the bakery moments before they closed for the night. The girl behind the counter agreed to make a three layer devil's food cake with a chocolate ganache icing.

Then he hurried to the card section and found a humorous card for Rayna. He did raise his eyebrows a bit at the nine dollar and ninety five cent charge for what seemed to be a pretty simple card, but shrugged his shoulders.

In the morning, he masturbated at the thought of bending Trine over the dining room table and plundering her sweet ass. Just before blowing his load onto the wall of his shower, Wendell wondered if Rayna shaved her beaver or if she had an unruly thatch of brown hair.

"Bald. She's too much of a lady to let it grow like a jungle," Wendell decided as he dressed for casual Friday.

Wendell was surprised that Trine's car was not in front of Rayna's home. Then he shrugged; she most likely would show up later.

"Hello? Oh, Wendell! What, what a surprise," Rayna said, speaking into an intercom system when Wendell knocked on the door.

"Hi!" Wendell said, feeling slightly foolish. "A uh, a little birdie told me that today is uh, is your birthday and..."

"I will kill that little motor mouth," Rayna growled into the speaker. "I'll be right there."

"I swear, that child just does not know when to keep her mouth shut," Rayna fussed, opening the door a moment later. "Hi! I was out back; I love sunbathing; why I have a ten foot wall around my backyard, OH! Is that, please tell me that's not a devil's food cake."

"Uh, yes, yes ma'am, it is," Wendell stammered, looking at Rayna's very short silk robe as the garment threatened to open.

"Oh, that is my Kryptonite! I just cannot say, is that, that's a chocolate ganache icing? Oh, you beautiful, beautiful man! Come in, come in, Rayna said, backing up.

"Three layer! So, you DO like me," Rayna whooped as she served the cake in the sitting room.

Wendell was able to determine that Rayna did indeed have a bald pussy as they enjoyed the cake. She also enjoyed the card, and smiled at the little note he'd written in the card.

"So, there is some lasagna left over from last night," Rayna said.

"And then we can have some more cake," Rayna smiled happily.

Rayna served the lasagna at the small kitchen table. Wendell found it difficult to concentrate on eating; her sweet little breasts kept popping into view. She caught his eyes on her breasts and smiled as she very slowly closed her robe.

"Come on; ready for some more cake?" Rayna asked, putting two more pieces of cake onto small dessert plates. "You take your coffee with just cream, right?"

"Right," Wendell agreed.

She carried the tray up the stairs. Wendell silently followed behind, enjoying the sight of Rayna's sweet backside as she marched. On the second floor, she guided Wendell to a bedroom and placed the tray on the foot of the bed. Flinging her robe onto a padded seat, Rayna placed her cup and dessert plate on one nightstand. With a smile, she marched to the other nightstand and placed his plate and coffee cup onto the other nightstand.

"Mm, dessert is served," she smiled as Wendell hurried to disrobe.

"Yes ma'am, it is; it is indeed," Wendell agreed, crawling onto the bed and pulling her to him for a heated kiss.

He feasted on her small breasts, lightly gnawing on her nipples for a few moments. He could taste her sunning lotion, and just underneath that chemical taste was the taste of her sweat. Each time he pulled his mouth from one breast, he paused long enough to suck some kisses from her hungry lips. Finally, he travelled from her breasts to her hairless mound.

"Oh I do hope you know how to eat pussy," Rayna moaned with desire.

"Your daughter didn't seem to complain," Wendell thought but did not say this out loud.

Again, he tasted the sunning lotion on her plump pubic mound. Using thumbs to open her tight slit, Wendell could smell the aroma of her essences, a heady, musky scent. Her taste was a good, healthy taste.

"Oh, oh yes, oh yes," Rayna agreed as Wendell used lips, tongue and fingers to pleasure her.

"Oh my God!" Rayna screamed in climax.

After her third oral orgasm, Rayna demanded that Wendell fuck her. He complied, wiggling forward and thrusting his cock into her with one fluid push. He held himself inside of her for a long moment, softly kissing her. Then, he rose up, pulling her ankles onto his shoulders. The moment he had her anchored, he began to fuck her hard and fast.

He was not able to last very long. Fortunately, she was already well primed and achieved orgasm a few strokes before he stiffened and pumped her full of semen.

"Oh, oh dear man, dear, dear Wendell," Rayna groaned happily.

"Wait, what? What, what are you doing? Oh, Wendell!" Rayna exclaimed as Wendell rolled her onto her belly. "Oh, oh no, I, I don't do that, Wendell, I oh!"

She might have been protesting that she did not enjoy anal stimulation but she did nothing to stop his oral or digital assault of her rectum.

"Got any lube?" Wendell whispered into her ear, his fingers plumbing her pussy as she writhed on the bed.

"Drawer, drawer right there; there should be a bottle," Rayna grunted.

The bottle was unopened and it took Wendell a moment to wrest the very thick seal from the mouth of the bottle. Rayna cooed and gasped as Wendell dribbled some lubrication on her ass, just above her shiny rosebud. She assisted, hands holding her fleshy buttocks apart as he again plumbed her rectum with two then three greasy fingers.

"I, I cannot believe I'm letting you do this," Rayna gasped out as he placed the head of his oiled cock to her anus.

"Honestly, I can't either," Wendell thought as he pushed firmly against her struggling anus.

"Oh, oh shit, oh God, shit!" Rayna groaned as Wendell gained entry into her squirming backdoor.

"Better not, shit," Wendell thought but merely grunted about how tight, how incredible her sweet ass was.

Inch after difficult inch pushed into her guts. Wendell could feel her muscles struggling against him as he pushed into her rectum. Underneath him, Rayna cursed, gasped, cursed some more, then suddenly stiffened, then shrieked.

"Oh! Oh my fucking God, fuck, fuck my ass, oh mother fucker, fuck my ass," she screamed out.

Wendell forcefully drove the last two inches of his cock into her depths. Her fingers were a blur as she rubbed her clitoris. As he began to pull out, she let loose with another shriek.

Wendell did not bother trying to be gentle, he did not bother working up to full steam. He just began pounding her ass with as much vigor as he had fucked her tight pussy.

Just as she let loose with another shriek, Wendell stiffened, then bellowed. She continued with her cursing as he pumped his semen into her guts.

He did not need to look down as his cock came out of her ass; he could feel how filthy he was. He hoped that the door to the left of the bed was the bathroom and was thankful that it was the bathroom.

There was a towel and face cloth on a small ledge next to the walk-in shower so Wendell decided to take advantage of that. He did wrinkle his nose at the scent of the A&A Soaps Raw Milk & Honey soap as he ripped the paper wrapping from the fresh bar. Thankfully, the spray took a matter of seconds to reach the proper temperature.

"I, I have never, I mean, usually? I hate anything to do with anal," he heard Rayna's voice as he scrubbed his cock.

"Really? You have the perfect ass for it," Wendell replied, deciding that he actually liked the scent of the soap; he did like the way it made his skin feel.

"But, you Mister, you know how to fuck," Rayna declared, flushing the toilet.

Wendell toweled dry and returned to the bedroom. Rayna was sitting up, enjoying her cake. She smiled as he slid into the bed, grabbing his own dessert plate.

"You stay the night?" Rayna begged, kissing him softly.

"Yes. I need to leave out of here by no later than seven. I need to get Pauline and..." Wendell agreed.

"Paul, who, who's Pauline?" Rayna asked, a hint of frost to her voice.

"Pauline? I told you about my daughter," Wendell argued.

"Oh!" Rayna giggled at her sudden flash of jealousy.

Rayna wiggled under the covers and pressed her nude body against Wendell's nude body. Their kisses had the flavor of cake and coffee and Wendell lamented that he'd not brought a toothbrush. A moment later, Rayna dipped her head under the covers and Wendell forgot all about brushing his teeth.

She was good. She was very good at sucking cock. Wendell did think that Trine was actually a little better at cock sucking than Rayna was, but he did not give voice to that opinion. 'If you can't be fucking the one you want, want the one you're fucking.' Or something like that.

They fucked twice more before Rayna begged for rest. As she told Wendell, for the past few years, it had been just her and a few toys.

"Maybe you should bring your daughter over here; she like swimming? We have that pool," Rayna suggested, her head resting on his chest.

At six forty five the next morning, Wendell sent Tracy a text message, asking that she pack Pauline's bathing suit. At six fifty five, as he was approaching his old neighborhood, he sent another text message asking Tracy to please pack a bathing suit for their daughter.

Wendell's blood was already at the boiling point when he pulled up in front of his old house; she'd ignored both text messages. Worse yet though, Pauline was sitting outside on the front steps, unattended. They'd had more than one scare when Pauline had wandered out into the street. Thankfully, this was a small neighborhood with minimal traffic, but it just takes one car, one distracted driver.

"Hi Pumpkin," Wendell said, gently pulling his daughter to her feet.

A check of the tote bag showed that her swim suit was packed and on top of a few changes of clothes. Asking Pauline if she'd had breakfast garnered him a blank stare.

He stopped at Tornadough's and picked up an assorted dozen of their signature twisted doughnuts. Then he chatted with the mute, unresponsive Pauline as he drove to Rayna's home.

Balancing a box of doughnuts, a bulky tote bag and a slightly resisting Pauline was difficult but Wendell was accustomed to the task. Pauline did not recognize the house or the neighborhood so was apprehensive.

"Pauline, it's okay," Wendell assured her. "This is Miss Rayna's home. She's a friend of Daddy's, okay? Come on, Pumpkin. We're going to have doughnuts, okay?"

"Um!" Pauline grunted when a smiling Rayna opened the door.

"No, no, this is Miss Rayna. She's a friend of Daddy's," Wendell assured the frightened girl.

"Um!" Pauline cried out, terrified.

"Rayna, come get the doughnuts," Wendell begged, fighting against losing his grip on Pauline's hand.

Rayna lost the smile, but did grab the box of doughnuts. Wendell saw the look of confusion on the woman's face. Under the confusion, he saw some hurt as well.

"It's nothing personal, woman," Wendell said, now able to wrap his struggling daughter in an embrace. "No, no, Pumpkin. It's all right. It's all right."

Twenty minutes later, Wendell was able to guide Pauline into the kitchen where Rayna waited. She put a smile on her face when Wendell introduced her to his daughter. Pauline stared mutely at the woman, not responding to Rayna's cheerful greeting.

"Ready for some doughnuts, Pumpkin? Ready for some doughnuts?" Wendell urged, bringing Pauline to the table.

After three doughnuts apiece, chocolate milk for Pauline and coffee for Wendell and Rayna, Rayna asked Pauline if she liked music. Pauline did not respond but allowed the woman to gently walk her to the library. Rayna sat Pauline onto the piano bench, then played a beautiful piece on the piano. Pauline stared at Rayna's hands as they flew along the keys. She then allowed Rayna to take her hands and place them onto the keys. Pauline's hands were heavy and they made a crashing sound. Pauline looked at her hands with some confusion and brought them down on the keys again. She laughed, a harsh guttural sound when once again there was a crashing sound.

"Well, not exactly Mozart, but close enough," Rayna smiled. "Come on, Sweetheart, let Miss Rayna show you."

Rayna taught Pauline a very simple scale. Pauline made a few mistakes, but delighted in the ability to make sound.

"That's it, that's it. You're doing so good," Rayna encouraged.

"How about that? Huh Pauline? How about that?" Wendell asked as Pauline again fumbled with the scale.

Rayna assisted the girl into her swim suit. With a smirk, Rayna told Wendell that this would be the first time she'd worn a bathing suit since moving to Louisiana ten years ago.

"Uh huh," Wendell smirked. "Hard enough getting her dressed. All I need is for her to think that walking around naked is okay."

"But it IS okay," Rayna said, walking hand in hand with him as he gently guided Pauline to the large French doors.

"Um!" Pauline grunted, seeing the large swimming pool.

"That's right; we're going swimming," Wendell smiled, stepping onto the steps of the pool. "Come on. Daddy's right here, come on. It's all right."

Walking into the pool, Pauline let one of her grunting laughs escape. She smiled as the water slowly rose up her legs.

Even though she was waterlogged, Pauline complained when it was time to get out of the pool. Rayna bribed the girl with the offer of chocolate cake after lunch and she allowed herself to be plucked from the water.

After turkey sandwiches, potato chips, and of course chocolate cake, Pauline was put on a plush couch with a soft pillow under her head and a soft fleece blanket covering her. Wendell set a thirty minute timer on his cell phone and collapsed in a chair in the parlor where Pauline was already fast asleep.

"This, this is exhausting," Rayna stated.

"Yes, yes it is," Wendell said. "But she's worth it. There are moments that make up for the hard times. Moments like her learning a simple scale on a piano. Moments like the first time she tasted fruit punch. Those little moments of joy make up for any difficulties that might come up."

After her nap, Pauline allowed Miss Rayna to bring her to the piano again. Rayna tried to teach Pauline another scale, but Pauline kept playing the first scale. As Wendell pointed out, Pauline was getting better at that first scale. Rayna smiled and shrugged.

In the morning, Wendell and Rayna enjoyed a quiche. Pauline ate the quiche but did not enjoy it as much as she would have enjoyed another piece of cake.

"Coming over after?" Rayna asked as Wendell helped Pauline get dressed for church.

"Want me back?" Wendell asked.

"Mm hmm," Rayna said. "Come around to the back gate; I'll be out at the p o o l."

"O k a y," Wendell teased and she smiled widely.

Tracy was her usual reserved and bitter persona when Wendell and Pauline showed up. Pauline grunted in disapproval when she was made to sit next to her mother. Wendell really wanted to know why their daughter seemed reluctant to be close to her mother but knew Tracy would not give any answers.

He stopped at his apartment, grabbed his Monday suit, dress shirt and tie. He made sure to have his razor blade and toothbrush as well.

Coming out of his apartment, Wendell saw Trine's car parked behind what he assumed was Dylan's car. He did find that a little curious. But he wasn't curious enough to stop and ask her.

Entering Rayna's back yard, Wendell did find the woman sunbathing in the nude. Her sunglasses hid her eyes, but nothing hid that beautiful smile.

"Ever fuck outdoors?" Rayna asked, spreading her legs and exposing her moist inner lips.

The chaise lounge was of excellent quality; it supported their weight even as they fucked vigorously. Rolling onto his back, Wendell allowed Rayna to bounce quite forcefully on his cock while he mauled her small breasts. Then she lay on top of him, his cock buried in her pussy.

"Oh, Mother! Really!" Trine tried to sound scandalized.

"Oh hush," Rayna giggled, dismounting from Wendell's slowly reviving cock.

"Gasp! Mr. Bergeron!" Trine mock-gasped, fighting down her giggles.

"Again, hush," Rayna said. "I suppose you're here for Sunday dinner?"

"Why else would I be here?" Trine asked.

"Uh? Because you miss your mother? Because you miss your home?" Rayna suggested, slipping her feet into her flip flops.

"Nope. And uh, nope," Trine said. "Because I burn water and I'm hungry."

"Don't bother with that, Wendell; she's already seen it all," Rayna said when Wendell moved to pull his boxers up his hairy legs.

"Seen it? Shit, I've felt it," Trine whispered and Wendell felt another erection coming up.

"So Wendell, your divorce? When will it be finalized?" Rayna asked as she sliced the roast beef.

"Mm, todays the... We're looking at probably sixty days, unless Tracy comes up with another one of her stupid demands," Wendell said.

He wished he had put his boxers on; he was sticking to the wooden seat as he and Trine sat at the kitchen table. Trine remained clothed while Rayna and he were nude save for footwear.

"You, you had sex," Wendell suddenly realized, looking at Trine. "That's why you don't want to expose yourself. His sperm is still dripping out of you."

Wendell felt an extreme wave of jealousy ripple through him. Then he realized how foolish that notion was. After all, he had just finished making love, fucking Trine's mother. And even if he was not in a sexual liaison with Rayna, he and Trine had certainly never discussed fidelity to one another.

"Is there any possibility of her throwing a monkey wrench into the works?" Rayna asked, serving him first.

"Hey! Why's he get the first plate?" Trine complained. "I'm the one starving over here."

"Because he's my guest. If it wasn't for food? You wouldn't even be here," Rayna said, putting Trine's plate in front of her.

"What. Ever," Trine laughed, digging into the food with gusto.

After the meal, Rayna told Trine she would make her a little plate of food to take home. She even cut the last of the cake in half, sending Trine on her way with a large chunk of cake. Trine complained about being dismissed and Rayna laughed happily.

"Bye," Rayna said, stepping slightly behind the door, lest any neighbors see her nude body.

"Bye," Trine smirked. "Have fun."

"Come on; we've got some unfinished business," Rayna demanded, leading the way up the stairs.

Wendell was less than impressed; the bed had not been made. He kept that opinion to himself though when Rayna crawled onto the bed, put her shoulders to the mattress and pulled her buttocks apart for his pleasure. She groaned then squealed when he tongued her spicy anus, tasting her sweat. She then gave a bark as he greased his fingers and began to finger her rectum.

"That, God, that's it, yes, that's it," Rayna cried out as Wendell pushed the head of his cock against her shiny anus.

She grunted, cooed, shrieked and cursed through two orgasms before Wendell could not hold his climax at bay. Again, he had to shower off the residue. This time, Rayna joined him in the shower and encouraged him to fuck her filthy ass again as she braced her hands against the shower wall.

In the morning, she fed him a good breakfast, high in protein. She then made him feed her his protein as he stood in the foyer, dressed in his Monday suit. Her blow job was enthusiastic and noisy. She giggled happily when he asked how he was going to be able to think for the rest of the day.

A week later, Wendell let TAB Properties know he was giving them his thirty days' notice to vacate the apartment. He did recommend the apartment to Emil Stenson, a fellow accountant that was looking for an apartment; his wife of three years had politely asked him to leave their apartment.

Tracy admitted she'd not gotten around to doing anything with Francine's room and agreed he could bring the furniture back. Wendell did not see Frankenstein around and did not ask about the woman's whereabouts; it was none of his business.

"You took those lamps!" Tracy angrily accused as Short Moves wrestled the furniture up the stairs.

"Tracy, everything was in the garage," Wendell reminded her. "When I came to get the furniture, everything was already in the garage."

"I gave you those lamps? I love those lamps," Tracy asked. "Are you sure?"

Wendell did not see their daughter Pauline and did ask about that. Autistic or not, all the ruckus should have prompted some curiosity in the girl.

"She's in her room. She won't come out," Tracy snapped.

"Why? Why is she in her room? It's a beautiful day outside; she should be out on the back patio, enjoying the weather," Wendell insisted.

"Then take her out there!" Tracy shrilled, stomping to her bedroom.

"So, bring her here," Rayna suggested when Wendell relayed this bit of information.

"Sweetheart," Wendell sighed.

"Call me that again," Rayna giggled happily.

"Sweetheart," Wendell smiled, affectionately slapping her nude rear end. "Baby, you've seen..."

"Ooh, I'm 'Baby' too?" Rayna giggled.

"You are Sweetheart, Baby, and Sugar Pie," Wendell smiled, punctuating each syllable with a light slap to her posterior. "But you've seen how much attention she requires. "And, you've seen how much she fights against any kind of change, any kind at all. You really want to go through that? Every day?"

"But there'll be two of us here to take care of her," Rayna pointed out.

"Rayna..." Wendell said.

"Oh no! Now I'm Rayna!" Rayna gasped.

"Sweetheart," Wendell smiled.

"Better. Much better," Rayna laughed.

"We'll talk about it," Wendell said.

Through Rayna's insistence, Wendell signed Pauline up for piano lessons. The piano teacher, a very effeminate man did admit to Wendell that Pauline would never be a concert pianist, but she was learning, was progressing.

"And more important than that; she does so enjoy it. Do you have any idea how many students I have that just absolutely HATE the piano?" he said.

"Then why are they..." Wendell asked.

"Two words. Mommy and Daddy," the man said. "But hey, if they're willing to pay me to make their kids miserable? Who am I to argue?"

The first time Trine painted Pauline's fingernails, Tracy was livid. She made numerous threats, vowing that Wendell would never see the girl again if he couldn't be trusted to watch out for her.

The next time Wendell came to the house to pick Pauline up, Tracy was bearing the faded remnants of a black eye. Very angrily, she informed Wendell that Pauline had punched her when Tracy began to remove the fingernail polish from Pauline's hands.

"She, she hit you?" Wendell said, incredulous. "Tracy, she, she's not, she's never been violent before. What did you do?"

"I didn't do anything!" Tracy insisted. "Just tried to get that ridiculous paint off of her and..."

"Her friend Trine spent a lot of time helping her pick up the perfect color," Wendell said, taking his daughter by the hand. "She liked the color. She liked the attention that her friend was showing to her. I know you don't like it but our little girl is growing up."

"She's not growing up; she's a vege... God damn you. God damn you, Wendell Francis Bergeron," Tracy shrilled, slamming the door with all her might.

"Ready to go play piano?" Wendell asked, fighting down his betterness that Tracy had been on the verge of calling Pauline a vegetable.

"Oh, what pretty fingers you have!" the piano teacher praised and Pauline let a little smile flicker across her face. "Now, let's do our warm up scales. Yes, yes, that's it."

Rayna smiled when Wendell relayed the teacher's words about Pauline's fingernails. She also commented on Trine's unusual bonding with Pauline. She asked if Wendell thought that perhaps Trine might be growing up just a little.

"Do you think I'd be a good mother?" Rayna asked as they took their coffee to the parlor.

"I think you ARE a good mother. Why do you ask?" Wendell asked.

"Because, Darling, the truth is, I'm knocked up," Rayna said, sliding onto his lap as they listened to a Mozart piece.

"You, you're what?" Wendell exclaimed.

"Darling, we've been fucking like animals," Rayna said, kissing him. "Shurely you had to think that this could possibly happen?"

"Really? With a tight ass like that? You really think I'm thinking?" Wendell asked, squeezing her naked rump.

"Ah, I forgot. God gave you two heads but only enough blood to work one at a time," Rayna smiled, snuggling tightly against him.

"So, where is Nyrsol again?" Wendell asked, hoping and praying that his divorce from Tracy would go through with no hiccups.

"North Sea. Even though it snows all the time, it is truly beautiful there," Rayna murmured. "Why? Taking me there?"

"Well, you did say that's where your summer honeymoon would be," Wendell suggested.

"Oh! The hot springs! Oh God, I, we need to fuck in the hot springs!" Rayna insisted, kissing him. "That lubrication? It does say it's waterproof, right?"

"Waterproof? I do believe so," Wendell said. "Think its snow proof too?"

"Snow... You kinky, kinky man," Rayna laughed.

Tracy threw no wrenches into the works and the divorce was final. Rayna accepted Wendell's proposal of marriage with a soft 'yes' and soft kiss. Trine did tease her mother; she'd fucked Wendell first.

"Yes, dear, but I fucked him best," Rayna said as they stood in Judge Parker Johnson's courtroom, waiting for their turn to be married in front of the judge.

Before boarding the Cavalier Airlines airplane that would fly them to the country of Tutite, Wendell gave Trine instructions on caring for Pauline; her piano lessons were Wednesday at four thirty. Pauline loved getting a strawberry malt from Clark's Drive In after her piano lesson. She loved swimming but did not know how to swim so...

"Come on, Daddy," Trine smiled indulgently. "I know how to take care of Sissy."

"Come on, Daddy; they won't hold the plane forever for us," Rayna smiled, tugging Wendell's arm.

Their honeymoon cottage was chiseled into the side of the dormant volcano. The dwelling was heated by a lava tube directly under their feet so they went sans clothes for their stay in the cottage. The morning and evening meals were provided by a grizzled fisherman and his beautiful blond assistant.

"I would never ever cheat on you, but oh! That boy is just absolutely yummy!" Rayna whispered.

"Shit, I'm not gay, but that boy is definitely yummy," Wendell agreed and he and Rayna shared a laugh and kiss.

The lubricant was waterproof but did not last very long in the steaming waters of the hot springs. And yes, it was snow proof as well, but they found out it was quite difficult to maintain an erection in a harsh wind and frigid cold.

They renewed their vows in a Nordic ceremony at the lip of the dormant volcano. The nude ceremony was captured on a dvd and they were given a sacred scroll signed by the Nordic High Priest and his two blonde maidens. Again, they sealed their union with a soft, loving kiss.

Cell phone reception in the country of Tutite was spotty at best and was nonexistent on the island of Nyrsol. It was not until they were in the air on their return flight from their two week honeymoon that Wendell got an earful of Tracy's enraged voice mail. Apparently Trine had painted Pauline's fingernails again, painting each nail a different color. Of course, Trine waited until the second Wednesday to pull this little stunt.

"And she keeps calling her 'Sissy;' that little slut is not Pauline's sister," Tracy continued for the three minutes the cell phone would allow the caller to vent.

"More of a sister than Francine's ever been," Wendell muttered when the cell phone abruptly ended Tracy's rant.

"Problem?" Rayna asked as Wendell deleted Tracy's rant.

"Your daughter..." Wendell smiled tightly.

"OUR daughter," Rayna said firmly.

"Our daughter," Wendell amended. "Our daughter, it would seem, took Pauline..."

"Our other daughter," Rayna interjected.

"Our other daughter," Wendell agreed.

"Sissy," Rayna continued.

"To her piano lesson. And, before bringing her home, decided that since Tracy had not liked Pauline painting her fingernails? Painted each one of Paul, Sissy's fingernails a different color," Wendell concluded.

"Oh no!" Rayna giggled, brown eyes twinkling with mirth.

"I do hope that little bundle of joy you got growing in that adorable little belly of yours is a boy," Wendell mock-sighed. "The women in my life are going to be the death of me, I swear."

"Oh you poor man," Rayna mock-sympathised.

"Think a quick and dirty ass fuck at forty thousand feet will make it all better?" Rayna whispered in his ear, showing him that she had the bottle of lubricant in her purse.

"It might, it might," Wendell agreed, looking over at the door of the small lavatory.

The End

+++++

***Author's Note: I write these stories for my pleasure; I post them here for your enjoyment.

I thank you sincerely for reading my stories.

Likewise, I also thank those that take the time to leave comments, good and bad. I also thank those that take the time to rate my words, those that take the time to 'Favorite' my works.

Judge Parker Johnson is introduced in 'Admission of Guilt' in the Romance category. His story is continued in 'Acquisition' in Loving Wives and in 'Johnson, Johnson & Lambert' in the Romance category. His ambition to become a judge is mentioned in 'Zig Zag Weekend: MFF' in the Incest/Taboo category.

The Nyrsol honeymoon cottage, the fisherman and his beautiful assistant are all introduced in 'Christmas Light & Snow' in the Lesbian Sex category.

Have a swell day. And some of you, have a swollen day.