Chapter 8: Epilogue

So, we settled in together. For a while, it was like I had never come back from Cancun. For the first few weeks, Elyse tended to greet me at the door in high heels, stockings, and a smile, but eventually this settled down, too. The first Saturday we were back, Elyse got fully clothed (Well, no underwear, but only we knew that!), and I took her to Bloomie’s for a shopping spree.

Unfortunately for Elyse, shopping for women’s clothing with a woman ranks right up there with root canal work as far as I’m concerned. She could have spent the next week in there, but I dragged her out after only a few hours. I did set up an expense account for her, so I wouldn’t be subjected to that again. She pouted the entire trip home, telling me repeatedly she hadn’t gotten all the stuff she absolutely needed.

I was highly relieved when Jesse informed us that two large boxes had arrived for Miss Elyse while we were out. “My stuff!” she cried out, thrusting the bags she was carrying at me. “It came! Where is it? Where?”

Jesse helped me with the bags and boxes up to our door, then tipped his hat and shuffled back to the elevator. What a con man! I worked it out once. If only half the tenants were paying him off like me, and if he was getting any kind of kickbacks at all from suppliers, even if he only earned minimum wage, he’d be well off. Very!

The new clothes were dumped unceremoniously in Elyse’s bedroom, then she returned to the two boxes. Not waiting for me to open them neatly, she ripped the lids open. I peered in. Thrown in haphazardly were an olio of feminine items and knick-knacks. A music box, several CDs, a few group pictures (No patrons, thank goodness!), a couple of pairs of high heels (One pair split between the two boxes.), a rather scandalous nightie, some lace stockings. All sorts of odds and ends of female post-adolescence. She shrieked in delight as she pulled them from the boxes.

But I had also noticed a few other items, including two vibrators, one of an immense construction, and a pair of handcuffs. An idea began to form in my head, and I noticed my cock had sprung to life. Taking the lace stockings in my hands, I unfolded them and looked them over.

“Like ‘em?” asked Elyse.

“Yeah, I do,” I told her. “I don’t think I’ve seen you in lace stockings before.”

“Maybe I’ll model them for you sometime,” she said.

“Okay. Get undressed,” I told her.

“What? Right now?”

“Sure, why not?”

Elyse shrugged her shoulders. “Well, okay. If you want.”

“I do, I do,” I assured her.

Elyse kicked her pumps off and pulled her skirt up her thighs. Part of my plan was factored on the fact that she had changed clothes at the store into a long halter-topped sundress. She unclipped the garters and peeled off the plain but sheer stockings she was wearing. Holding the lace pair up, she examined their length and elasticized tops. “Won’t need the garter belt,” she announced and put her hands under the skirt and behind her back. This came off too. Then she slipped on the lace stockings. Standing, she smoothed them on her legs. Holding her dress up to her thighs, she asked “Well? How do they look?”

“Great!” And they did, too. Long and black and very sexy. “Here, put these on,” I said, handing her a pair of black ankle strapped stiletto heeled shoes I took from one of the boxes.

Elyse sat back down on the couch. She put the shoes on and strapped them around her slim ankles. Then she stood and faced me again. Pulling the hem well above her knees she commented “They really don’t go with the outfit.”

“That’s all right. Turn around. Let’s see how they look from behind.”

Elyse turned away from me and let the dress slip from her fingers. Moving her hands behind her, she grabbed the fabric behind her and began to pull it upwards, balling it in her fists. As it rose above knee level, she called out “Say ‘When’!”

I let her continue until the hem of her dress was almost at the tops of the stockings, which were very close to the tops of her thighs. “When! Now just stand there a moment.” I gazed contentedly for several moments.

After about a minute, Elyse looked back over her shoulder. “Well? Can I put my dress down now and change again?”

“Not just yet, my dear. Just stand there like that a few moments more.”

Elyse shrugged again, or at least as much as she could in that position and faced forwards again, and I went into action. Reaching into the box at my side, I pulled out the handcuffs. With one cuff in each hand, I thrust my arms up and out and snapped them around her wrists, behind her back.

“Robert!” screamed Elyse, whirling to face me. “What are you doing?”

“Oh, just experimenting,” I said, rising to face her. Gently taking her by the shoulders, I pulled the helpless girl towards me. I thrust my lips onto hers and began devouring her lips with my kisses, as my hands roamed over her naked back. She tried to resist briefly, but in short order was moaning and thrusting her tongue back against mine. Then, holding her tightly, I moved a hand down to the zipper behind her and pulled it down. Then as I moved back and away, I reached up and undid the slipknot holding the halter up. A curious mix of rage and glee suffused her face as the dress slid floorward, the halter straps trailing off her shoulders and down her heaving breasts.

“And just what does this experiment involve?” she asked stepping out of the crumpled outfit at her feet, moving closer to me.

I never did explain. I just sat down in my armchair and pulled her onto my lap. Only now, as I returned to kissing her, my hands were roaming her front, cupping her full tits, pulling and pinching her extended nipples, and thrusting madly into her hot and juicy box. I took her through three fierce and extended orgasms sitting thus, muting her orgasmic cries with my lips. Finally, I lifted her sweat soaked form off me long enough to pull my pants down, them lowered her, facing away from me so she straddled my legs, onto my straining member, impaling her on its turgidness. God was she hot and tight! I pushed her forward so that she was bent over my knees and put my hands on her ass cheeks. Spreading them wide, I wetted my thumbs with the pussy juices freely flowing around my cock and stuck them both up her asshole. She went wild, squirming and twitching in her pleasure, her screams of joy no longer silenced. I didn’t last long, spewing upwards into her grasping twat after only about five minutes.

I kept her handcuffed the rest of the day and all day Sunday, dressed only in stockings and heels. I took her repeatedly, sometimes bending her over a chair as she passed, sometimes just walking up to her, unzipping, and pushing her to her knees. After dinner that night, I took the two vibrating dildos and stuffed them inside her, the smaller of the pair up her ass. Then I walked away and left her thrashing on the floor.

I don’t think she minded though. Being left helpless like this, I was forced to help her with everything except wiping her ass. I had to feed her by hand sitting in my lap, get her drinks and snacks, dress her in new stockings and shoes the next morning, even shower with her and wash her pretty tits and pussy off. Even Elyse commented how well I was pampering her, and that we’d have to experiment some more in the future.

I moved my den into the study and converted the den into an exercise room. Nautilus and aerobics mat, but no sauna or Jacuzzi. I’m not that crazy! And about two weeks after we were home, I called in a contractor. I had a door put in between our two bedrooms and redid my bath to allow an entranceway into each bedroom. But I think the biggest impression I made on Elyse was the final act. While she was out shopping, I had a locksmith come in and put locks on both doors to her bedroom, key side in. Then when she came home, I gave her the keys. She was literally speechless. She just started crying and hugging me and kissing me, and then when I tried to calm her, she grabbed me by the belt and dragged me into her room. She damn near ripped my pants off me, and thanked me the best possible way, repeatedly.

Not that everything is always perfect. Wilkerson only promised ninety-five percent compatibility. We’ve had some arguments, real ripsnorters, and man, you just want to head for the hills when she gets going! But all in all, things have been pretty good.

Like she had told me, sex with her was a two-way street. She happily obliged any of my urges, but expected me to comply with hers. When she wanted to fuck, it was best if I agreed! She liked porno films, and I learned to expect her renting one every week or two. Then, some night when nothing was on the tube, she dressed up in something interesting and put it on the VCR and sit down next to me on the couch. In short order, she’d soon have one hand in my pants and the other in hers. It made life interesting.

Some interesting character quirks, I’ve noticed. She keeps the place absolutely immaculate. Everything is spotless. She has an encyclopedic knowledge of fitness and nutrition, but despite all my patient coaching, she’s at best a mediocre cook. Elyse can’t boil water twice in a row and get the same result. At least bachelorhood taught me something. I do most of the cooking. And she’s a real clotheshorse. If it’s chic or stylish or sexy, it’s in her closets. Not that I mind the latter. She invariably looks good in whatever she buys and pays particular attention to make sure that it can be easily removed or pushed aside by me. In fact, after shopping, she almost always puts on a private fashion show for me that ends up with my pants down and my cock in her mouth, cunt, or ass. She prefers classy and some flashy, except for swimsuits. She told me she’s a lousy swimmer and refuses to go into the water. So, the suits don’t have to be very functional, just look good. And how! Thongs and strings and crocheted bits of cloth. I’ve had to keep up the shaves on a twice monthly basis.

Other changes occurred as well. Remembering Wilkerson’s comments about some of the girls wanting to go to college, after about six months I offered to pay her way at one of the local schools. She said no and admitted to moderately severe dyslexia. “ ... actually, I suppose it’s just another reason my father used to beat me. My grades in school really sucked, and he used to beat me and call me stupid and worthless.” When I asked how she got her GED, she told me of a special oral test. I wasn’t sure whether this was an oral GED test, or just a test of oral skills, and wisely didn’t ask.

But she did say she might like to get a job in a fitness center, and I gave my blessing. A few weeks later, she announced she had a part time job teaching aerobics downtown. Since she left after I did in the morning and was home to greet me in the evening, I promptly forgot about it.

I took her to a trade show in San Francisco the next fall. You see, I hadn’t taken her to any of my firm’s social functions yet because we hadn’t had any since we came back. The office picnic was before I met her, and most of the dinners and balls are held in the winter, around the holidays. For one reason or another, I had never shown her my office. So, we made a short vacation for the fall trade show. I’d go to the show while she went sight-seeing, then get back together later for dinner.

The last night of the show is a formal dinner, black tie and all, for awards and speeches and whatnot. My heads of Engineering and Research, who work out of my headquarters, were getting an award for developing and marketing some new software. The dinner was held in the Hilton, where we were staying. Up in our room, while she was taking a bubble bath, I changed into my tux and told her I’d meet her downstairs, I had things to do first. She agreed to meet me at the entrance to the room at seven, for cocktails and I left.

Well, I was waiting near the doorway with my vice-presidents when she came off the elevator. Boy, can she make an entrance! She had put on a new dress, one I had never seen before, a body hugging long strapless red number with gold threads running through it. It was cut low in back, but not too low, and showed a generous amount of breast, but not too much. Ankle-length, it had a slit up the front of one leg to mid-thigh. Matching high heels and shimmery sheer stockings. Her hair was piled high on her head, and she wore above-elbow-length red gloves. The three of us just stared as she sauntered up. She kissed my cheek, and I came to, as if from a trance. I could tell by her eyes she was delighted by the effect she had on us. Absolutely stunning!