The callouses on my fingertips are thicker than ever from all my practicing.
Last night we went to bed late, playing music until my husband had to have me, and we were forced to stop, so I’m sleeping in now after a full night of lovemaking.
Only there’s a smile on my face as my eyelids flutter open. A matching fluttering sensation between my legs.
That’s one of his new favorite pastimes, waking me up with his tongue, and I have zero complaints.
“Good morning,” I moan into the bright room.
“Good morning, wife,” Karl says from under the covers, then comes up over my body to kiss me. “How did you sleep?”
“Wonderfully, but not better than how I woke up.”
Karl chuckles. “I wasn’t done, was I?”
“You sure weren’t,” I say, smiling at him and pushing his head down toward where it needs to be.
He chuckles at my demands but obeys and dives back down to his new home between my legs.
After he makes me come on his tongue, he starts with his second favorite pastime. When my clit is so intensely sensitive, Karl has learned to strum it like he would his guitar, just like our very first guitar lesson. With soft, gentle fingers, he rapidly dusts my clit with the most delicate of grazes. It drives me insane, and he knows it.
“Stop, please,” I beg when I can’t handle it anymore. That’s when he comes back up and over me.
“You love it,” he teases.
“I do, but now I need my husband inside me,” I demand.
“You lead, I follow,” he says and enters me in one long, deep thrust.
EPILOGUE
KARL
This is the last day of our honeymoon. Married life suits me. Never having family before, I didn’t know what to expect. And despite how young Lola is, she’s now my best friend and partner. I’m a lucky man to have her as my family too, and I’m so damn smart for pushing to make it legal because I intend to keep her for life.
Maybe that sounds creepy. I only mean I know we’ll grow old together.
I’m pretending to write in my small notebook, but I’m really just watching her, lounging nearly naked. The lanai of our Croatian rental was inviting this evening with the warm sun rays just before sunset, so we relocated here an hour ago.
Lola is splayed on a lounge chair, topless, reading a Lou Reed biography. Her ax—the pink one I gave her—is now like an extension of her body. Even though I know she has no plans to practice again today, it rests next to her chair like she can’t be away from it for more than a few minutes. I’ll never get tired of this view.
I’m watching my wife do her thing when a video call chimes through her tablet next to her. She grabs theStone Temple Pilotst-shirt from the chair’s backrest and pulls it over her head before she answers the call.
“Fernanda!” Lola squeals, and then immediately, something crosses her features. Something that looks a lot like shame. In the three months we’ve been gone, we’ve hardly spoken to anyone from the outside world, and until today, no one has reached out to us. I’m sure she’s missing her friends.
And to be honest, so am I.TíaElena grew on me quickly. So did Fernanda, and though we didn’t get to spend much time together, I already know she’ll be as good a buddy as Adrian is.
“You need to come back!” is the first thing to come out of Fernanda’s mouth, even before a ‘hello.’
I look up from my supposed work and throw Lola a questioning look with a raised brow.
Lola shrugs. “Why? What’s going on?”
“I found our bass!”
“Yeah?”
“She’s amazing!” Fernanda squeals. “She auditioned between my legs,” she says dreamily, followed by a sigh.