Be truthful, trust her (Evelyn's ending)

You lower your head, you feel ashamed of your words but she deserves the truth. "I never wanted this to end this way. I wanted to end the rivalries between them. I wanted to make them all happy but when Lily said those things... I couldn't respond. I couldn't..." The rest of the words die in your lips. You don't know what else to say, you are too ashamed.

"It's ok, It's ok..." She tries to hug you but you push her away.

"No, it's not. I should have said... I should have done..."

A warm smile emerges from her. She understands. "Sometimes, things scape our control, sometimes we cannot achieve what we wanted and that is ok, that is part of live." Her hands get closer for a hug, tentatively. "Maybe you could have done something, who knows, but you shouldn't put the weight of that decision upon your shoulders: the past is set. Reflect on it, try to improve as a person, and make the most of it... And maybe one day we will fix it..., maybe... together?" She surrounds you with her warmth. Her naked skin against yours

"Eve... Can I call you Eve?"

She smiles. "Sure."

"Eve... I couldn't make my family happy, I couldn't... But I'll try to make you happy. I'll try... I'll do my best... I do want to try that... I want to stay with you."

"Think you could kiss me?"

"I think I could."

And you kiss her, you kiss her as a woman in love deserves to be kissed. Soon she asks for your passion and both of you moan to the same pace, as the same beating heart. She fucks you to sleep and carries you back to bed.

The preparations for the wedding began shortly after. From the very first second, Lily tried to get control of the location and details. Evelyn does not oppose her, but she looks a bit somber afterwards and evades the question whenever you ask her. It is two days later when you realise her true feelings. Lily is showing you two photos of the places she had considered for your honeymoon.

"This should be a good one. I mean, the location and services are just exquisite and look at all those wonderful views! What do you think?"

You look to your side to Evelyn. She has agreed with Lily's judgement, but you notice that she is not fully convinced, that she lacks the enthusiasm one should have for her wedding, but she can't say no to Lily, but maybe... Maybe you can.

You politely put your hand over the photos Lily put on the table and speak with conviction. "I know nothing of the world, nothing of its wonders and places. I wouldn't know what places would be best to visit." You then turn to Evelyn. "But my wife does. She is the smartest person I know and she knows so many things. I'll like her to be the one to choose the place."

Evelyn seems surprised of your words. Her eyes fearfully look at Lily's. "Well, this is already a very beautiful place that your sister chose. I'm sure she already has thought of everything."

"I would still like to hear your opinion." The two women exchanged a new weird look that you could not decipher. Evelyn tells you politely that she will think about it and for a while that's it, but later that evening she comes to your room.

"Hey, you still want to know where I would go?"

"Sure!" You tell her.

"Well, this is a bit... I haven't come up with it fully but..." She extends a map of Europe over the table. "You see, we would start here, two days. It will give us time to see... And then we'll take a train... here... Oh there is this wonderful theatre... and of course we have to dinner here. I know a place from when I was a student... Then three days here to see the gardens and the museums and then..." You can't keep up with all the names she throws at you, but you are so happy to see her this excited, to see this much Illusion in her eyes.

It is a discrete and short wedding, with not many guests and expensive and refined food, much in Evelyn's taste. Lily choses the place and your wedding dress, that much you could do nothing about: A traditional white that looks so wonderful, making you feel like a prince from a fairy tale. Evelyn looks so radiant at the altar when you walk up to her, so beautiful when she says "yes". You dance together under the sound of corny songs, and the scent of flowers and apple trees. In your ears she whispers "Do you still want me to be happy?"

You say yes.

"Because I do want you to be happy, Mark. God, I almost want to become the most classical of wives for you, the type of woman I always made fun of. I want to pamper you, to provide for you and shower you in gifts and songs and magic, because... I want you to be happy. God, I... I want you to smile everyday. I want to know that you smile because of me, that I have make you... Happy."

Your journey across Europe is an absolute wonder. You enjoy every place and she always knows so many stories, so many curiosities. She tells you of legends, of queens and warladies, of their lovers and victories and tragic defeats. She tells you the stories of the wonders they built. At some point you ask her if she studied for today and she goes all red under the spanish sun. "I... Might?"

You take her hand. "You don't need to try that hard. You have already impressed me. I am already in love. If you end up without more trivia to say you can always tell me about you. I will always love to listen."

"Is that... I like to talk, ok?" She admits laughing. "I just... You are so adorable when you listen... And maybe I am not that interesting."

"You are, Eve. I don't care that much of ancient legends and monuments, I love to hear you because you tell me a lot about you when you talk about those things, you tell me what you like, what you care about and appreciate... And you are such a wonderful woman."

For the first time you are the one to leave her without words. She takes your hand an takes you to the very end of some historic gardens, whose legend tells they were made by the tears of a prince as his beloved died in battle. She brings you to a hidden and dark spot no one seems to know. There, among the threes and the singing of birds, she takes you, putting her hand in your mouth when you begin to moan too loudly. In your ears she whispers her demands. She wants your cum. She wants it all for her and not a single drop stains the floor.

Three days later she takes you to the opera for the first time. She is really excited about it and a bit nervous, she craves to hear that you enjoy the experience almost as much as if it was a creation of her own. You are both in your seats in a private box, but it hasn't started yet. "You know why the theatre has this disposition, in a semicircle?" She asks you. "Is so that the public could not see just the opera, but see each other. This is where the best of society were reunited, where they were judged and seen by themselves. Some would say that those archaic traditions are lost to these modern times, but are they?" She asks you. You can only look around and see many well dressed people, some are keeping to their own business, some are looking around.

She whispers in your ear. "I want them all to see my beautiful husband. I want them all to see how happy you make me. I love you, Mark."

"I, I love you too."

"If you kiss me, everyone will see. If we moan everyone will hear." It's not a warning but a dare.

And you accept it.

The opera is Giuseppa Verdi's Il traviato. Which she confesses having a soft spot for, and tells you with a wink that it is an almost perfect 'first time' opera. When the room goes dark you star to hear the wonderful music and the experience captivates you from the very first second. It is a passionate love story, the sort of story you would think someone like Evelyn wouldn't like, but when you take her hand she doesn't hide it from you. You feel tears in your eyes as the story progresses and the lead singer unapologetically screams with such high notes just the words 'love me!'

https://youtu.be/AswghTQ8Zv4

You barely talk on the way back to the hotel, you are so awestruck by the experience, so calm. On the bed you grab her hand and recite those words from Verdi back to her. "Among these flowers I will always be happy. Love me Eve, love me as much as I love you."

She cries, she feels no guilt about it, a woman is crying before you and there is no shame or cringe. You no longer need to hide anything from each other. And so that night, your naked bodies tell the same rhythmic song of moans and sweat, but this time is different. When she pins you down against the bed she is not possessive, she doesn't fear that you might fly away. You paint her interiors in a creamy white and she smiles at the warmth. You fall asleep together in a hug, a serene mess.

In the future she would take you to many operas, to see the stories of Giuseppa Verdi, Amanda Mozart, Ricky Wagner, Strauss... You enjoy all those works, but you also enjoy hearing her talk about them. She teaches you to listen to them, to really appreciate their complexity and beauty, without ever being pedantic, without ever being boring. You can listen to her talk about anything for hours, because above all you love the sound of her voice and you love her.

Just one year later, you are grabbing her hand. Both of you stand before Lily and she looks at you with a gesture of surprise. The words from Eve still hang on the air. "We will be living in our own house from now on." Lily barely shows a smile as a reaction, but you can see something breaking deep in her eyes. She does not approve of your decision, but she neither opposes it.

"I'm sure I could convince you..." She says to Eve, but to her surprise, it is you who answers. "No, Lily. Our decision is set. We love each other and we want to start a family, we want to have a place of our own, our own legacy. We will always be grateful to you, for all you have done and for bringing us together, but we need this."

You sense something in her eyes. A deep disappointment, but also respect. She doesn't oppose your decision, she never tries to make you change your mind again. Without a tear she lets you go, without a word she protest. That same evening you see her on the TV, speaking again to some spineless interviewer. She says the same words, she has the same smile, as if nothing had changed, as if you hadn't say goodbye.

You are now in an art gallery. It's being seven years since you are so happily married. Your wife and mother of your two sons stands by your side as you look at the bold paintings. The artist signs as A. Mutt, but you would recognise Amelia in any photo, even if she makes such an effort to not be recognised. She dresses in weird colorful robes, completely unfit for any woman, with big round sunglasses to hide her eyes, but you know is her, even with just a glance of her lips.

This time, Eve doesn't have her own words to describe the artist's work, being so recent. She is reading the brief pamphlet that they handed you at the entrance. "The exposition it's called Phallica: an obsession in male power. 'A recent revolution in the artistic world not by way of new techniques or scales, but by the raw sincerity of her craft. With her brush, Mutt expresses such an unapologetic desire and lust, an almost delusional craving for the male form and its ejections. The most base of needs in the most primal and unfiltered expression. Many rumours circle around the mysterious A.Mutt: that she uses her own bodily fluids as medium for her paintings, that she is the disinherited daughter of some European Monarchy, but all we know for sure is her cravings, for which she feel no shame."

The centerpiece it's called 'My dirty peasant.' It is an aggressive portrait of a blurry and shadowy man, siting in a coach and naked. His cock is proudly in display, hyperrealistic and obsessively detailed, in opposition to the almost abstract configuration of the rest of the painting. The rod it's still coated in saliva. The man looks directly at the viewer and has an intense and indecipherable look. You hear people debate about the nature of that gaze. Is it lust for the female gaze of the viewer? Is it defiance against the matriarchy? Cruelty? Love? Everyone has his own opinion and the mysterious A. Mutt would offer no explanation and she accepts no interviews. That painting she would never sell, no matter how much money they offered her.

She wasn't there that day, to the frustration of the many journalists that were there looking to catch a photo of the elusive artist. Back at home, your wife is kissing you, pushing you against the bedroom door, too impatient to cross that last barrier to your bed, too horny, now that the kids are asleep. "It really was your cock..." she says. "It does look so beautiful, coated in saliva..." She smiles. It is the smile of a woman who knows she is desired and loved. "I'm glad she managed to pursue her dreams."

"Me too." You say, somewhat unconvinced.

"What's wrong?" She asks.

"I just... I wish she had been there, I wish I could have talked to her." You say.

"What would you have said?" Asked your wife.

You feel a knot in your own throat. Even after all those years it is difficult to talk about, the pain and the guilt is still so real. "I would have said that I'm sorry. That I should have tried to... I should have done something."

"Then why don't you say it?"

"How? How would I even began?"

She smiles, the same precious smile. "You already did."

The door to your room opens then, and there she is: Amelia, your beautiful sister, with no haughtiness left in her, no pretensions of being this cold and pampered noble, only a shy girl with tears in her eyes. You try to find the words, and she appears to do the same, but you both remain speechless, until she rises her hand to your cheeks. Just before the tears erupt, she is kissing you, her trembling hands surrounding your neck. You feel her needy body against yours and in a last gasp of sanity you push her slightly away and look at your wife with fear.

But Evelyn only smiles you. "Go on Mark." She says, warmly. "let her carry you to our bed."

She never stops looking at you with the same fondness, not when your sister unzips your pants, not when she engulfs your cock and devours it with the same passion of your youth. You look back at your wife, you start to murmur an excuse, but she doesn't let you start it. She puts her finger on your lips. "Shh... No words, babe. Just... enjoy her."

Amelia slurps on your balls like a mad girl, handling your member like a sacred object. She still doesn't say a word. She just looks at you, with unending desire, with unending love.

"I always knew I had to share you." Says Eve "That was my deal with Lily, and she offered me a great deal of money for that. That's why I accepted in the first time. Enough money for me to retire and never work again my whole life, and after a few years I would have had my right to leave and she would have continue paying me the same. What I never thought was that you would be such a beautiful being, that I would truly care and love you as much as I do. And now you are my husband and I will never let her take you away from me. You really aim to make others happy, even the unredeemable, and I love to watch you moan and smile even if it is by another woman's doing." She takes your hand then. "Just promise me that you will always let me be a part of it.

"Always..." you say, holding her hand, your fingers intertwined.

That hand never leaves, not when Amelia impales herself on your cock, not when she starts riding you like an amazon of the old legends, not when she moans your name and cums, not when she descends to kiss you, satisfied and filled with your cum. You wife is always there by your side, pampering and nurturing you, making sure of your happiness.

You take Amelia's face between your hands: "Where were you? I have missed you so much... We should have been together."

It takes her a while to answer "Oh, the first years were so tough, but I made it... I... I couldn't have done it without you... Even if you were not there, those things you said to me... In every dark moment all I could think was that line: that I deserved to be happy. I fought to make those works true."

"You do deserve it. I..." you look briefly to Evelyn. "We will make you happy."

Amelia gulps and looks apologetically to your wife with her teary eyes. "I would never dream to usurp your place as the lady of the house. I know my place... I want to be below you. I... Would you accept me as your pet?"

At first you don't understand what she means. You expect Eve to be equally confused, but she responds with calm. "Would you wear a collar and a chain?"

Amelia's breathing accelerates just slightly "Please..."

Evelyn's other hand grasps your sister's throat, with gentle fingers. "I'm think black with a silver chain. It should suit your hair colour." Amelia gasps and you feel the walls of her pussy convulse around you as she has an orgasm. That sort of ruins her chance to give a coherent answer.

But Evelyn only laughs.

9 Years later.

You finish brewing the coffee to your wife's liking, on her favourite cup, drawing a heart in the surface of the hot liquid. You bring it to her on a tray, with small biscuits and a croissant. You no longer work as a maid, but just for her, you still do this sort of things. Only you make the coffee the way she likes it, only you make her smile that way. You find her on her study, reading the news of the world.

"Thank you, darling." She says with her beautiful smile.

"I hope is warm enough, but not too much."

She sips from the cup with a smile. "Oh, it's perfect, babe, as always. Did you fed the dog?"

"I did." You say, lifting your skirt. Your dick is still coated in Amelia's saliva and the red of her lipstick. "You know she is always hungry, but she left enough for you too."

"Mmm... I'll take it later." She says.

"I caught a glimpse of her last work... It really looks wonderful."

"You monster. You know you are not supposed to look."

"I know, I know, but... It was so tempting."

"Oh, the weakness of the fair sex, always so hard to control... Come, sit here with me. The kids will be out all day and I want us to spend the day together. What are you in the mood for?"

You sit by her side "I want to be with you, Eve. I'll always be with you. Always." You take the croissant and split it in half. You bring one of those halfs to her mouth and she bites with wicked lips. She smiles and kisses your fingers. She takes the other half and feeds it to you. You kiss those fingers too.

You stay all morning just sitting by her side and she welcomes your presence. Nothing happens for the whole day, and that feels fine. That feels fine

THE END

I'm so terribly sorry this took so much time to write! these last months have been a bit too much for me, dealing with both Covid, personal issues and depression and I wasn't in the mood to write this chapter. The Amelia ending is half done and I hope it comes by more easily. I also have good news for you: I have decided to take the jump and write and selfpublish an erotic novel, which is obviously behind me writing less here in this platform. (It's not related to any of my stories here, but I would like to eventually rewrite this story of Mark and the Barton sisters as a more serious novelisation. Please tell me if you would be interested.)

Thank you every one for your patience and love, and I hope you have a happy and horny day.

Ps: To whoever got the A. Mutt reference. I love you.