Geoff and Marie’s Good Life: Part 9Lucy's TurnGeoff 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.