Epilogue Krampus, Baby
AKA Krampusnacht
Pine Ridge, New York
I keep staring at my ring. It’s a thin, dark yellow gold. Imogene’s is a similar shade, but they’re not a matching set. I don’t care. She and I are the matching set.
I light candles. Turn on music. Tonight is a new beginning, but I don’t expect it to be a physical one. Imogene still has bruises on her arms, and one cut is still healing, even though the rest seem to be gone. Krampus healing, I guess.
“Okay. Want to see what Libby gave me?”
“Absolutely.” I know a few of Immy’s friends had a mini bridal shower for her yesterday after the library’s story hour. I bet it’s something like a vase that we can keep her bridal bouquet in.
“It’s not my usual style, maybe. But she said even if it’s our second wedding night, I ought to use it as an excuse.”
“Huh? Excuse for what?” I ask, smoothing down the bed covers.
Immy strides into the room, and I have to sit down.
Holy sexbomb. “Baby,” I gasp.
“She said it was perfect for a December bride,” Imogene says with a blush and saunters over to me in a body suit made of white lace in a snowflake pattern. Everything is sheer. Everything is on display.
“Fuck,” I hiss, wondering how in the world I’m going to behave myself when Imogene looks like a pink and white candy cane that ought to be devoured on the spot.
“It unsnaps here, and then you pull the rest off. It’s stretchy,” Immy explains, fingers dancing over her navel and guiding my eyes to the three white buttons at her crotch.
“I thought you might want to just curl up and watch a movie.
Look, I already searched for ‘Newlywed Romcoms and Holiday Romcoms. Planes, Trains, and Candycanes. That sounds cute,” my voice sounds like I ate helium instead of the awesome little wedding cake that Mr. and Mrs. Wickstaff had made for us.
“I do. Tomorrow. Or later tonight,” Imogene purrs and then prances up to me, her feet smooth and high-arched, ending in a flat hoof-like surface that tip-taps as she bounces into my arms. “Do you know why this is good?”
My mind explodes with reasons. The past two months blur together at high speed.
My first real home.
My baby girl.
Holding her while she sleeps, crying with her when I was so tired, looking at her in awe as she smiles...
Imogene.
This disaster, turning into peace and love. And home and family.
Making love for the first time. Not sex. Love. And passion. And heat. And oh my God, the things we explored with each other in only a few weeks...
Finding my hero.
Finding my wife.
“Because everything with you is good,” I whisper, eyes suddenly full.
Imogene’s smile softens, then broadens again.
“That. That’s the best reason. Out of a million reasons.
But the one I was thinking of was that we’re going to keep going.
I thought when Blase broke in, that everything would end.
Be ruined. I’d lose my friends. My home.
You and Laurel.” Her hands come up to stroke my jaw.
“But it didn’t happen. My friends were there for me today, and you have friends, too.
We’re not just loners in love anymore. We’re people with a new life in front of us, new friends.
And... And you saw me at my worst. You still love me. ”
“All of that’s beautiful, honey, and you’re right—except for the part that I saw you at your worst.”
“I mean... When I was fighting. All scratched up and screaming, and acting like some savage monster.”
I shake my head. “Warrior badass. The best version of krampus, baby, the one who punishes real evil. I hated that it happened, but I thought you were at your best. One of the many versions of the best. You’re the best at being loving and gentle.
The best at being comforting. The best at being strong and brave.
Is it any wonder I’m in love with every version of you?
They’re all the same, just different parts.
” I tip her head to kiss the spot between her horns. “And I love ‘em all.”
ARTIE’S WORDS EMPOWER me, some final layer of super glue that holds all the fractured parts of me together.
He loves me shy and weak, pretty much helpless.
He loves me stomping demons who are breaking into my home.
He loves me rocking our baby and picking up toys.
He loves me in my baggy hand-me-downs, my vintage thrift shop finds, and my naughty lingerie.
I raise his chin, and it’s my turn to plant a kiss, a long, hot one that claims his mouth and makes it clear I’m impatient for more.
Too impatient. I tip us back onto the bed, and Artie moans when I’m on top of him.
He likes me like this. Bold. Happy. In love with him.
“I want all of you, every inch in every hole,” I whisper between kisses that trail down his bare chest.
“Oh, Immy, yess. I want that pussy wrapped around my cock. Want you coming all over my face.” His hands claw at the stretchy white fabric, and my breasts spring free as he wriggles the stretchy neckline down over my chest. His hand, shining in the candlelight thanks to his new wedding band, traces over my breasts, finding the nipples.
I push my hand into his loose black boxers and grip his cock, taking it into my fist and milking it with new confidence. He loves this. Loves me.
Just as I’m about to bend and suck him into my mouth, Artie bends, and we bang heads.
“Holy cow. That could have been bad,” Artie laughs, and his thumb flicks open the snaps at my crotch.
“If I’d had my horns, we could have been spending the night in the ER.”
“Nope. I prefer the br. Bedroom.”
“Dad jokes unlocked,” I tease, and roll away from him. I turn on all fours and wiggle my hips at him, showing him my pussy as the lace opening swings free. “Mouth here,” I pat my bottom, “and cock here.” I point to my lips.
Artie scoots under me. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Ma’am! I’m twenty!”
“But you’re a wife and mom. A missus. A ma’am. And you’re definitely a WILF.”
“A what?”
Artie’s tongue slurps along my sex, and I moan as I inhale his cock, taking the whole thing into my mouth in one deep swallow.
“WILF,” he moans. “Wife I’d Love To Fuck.”
“It’s Krampusnacht, after all. New tradition. We each get one wish,” I murmur when I release him from the prison of my mouth.
“All mine already came true.” Artie buries his face in my pussy and goes to work, rubbing hard, leaving no part untouched—just the way I like it.
IMOGENE’S ON FIRE. She writhes on my face, pressing her slippery folds against my lips and chin, using me to grind on.
I love it, lying here and watching her pussy getting wetter and puffier at the closest range.
I lap at her juices and massage her perfect bubble cheeks, so round and firm, filled out some since she’s been with me, getting better meals, and getting spoiled.
Hell, I’m getting spoiled. My cock is threatening to unleash at any second, and I know Imogene would love that. She’d probably bathe in it if she could, lost in a mint and chocolate heaven.
I think her taste buds are misaligned, but whatever. I adore them.
I’m so lost in her juicy paradise, lost in her mouth bobbing harder and faster on me, that I don’t really think about what I’m doing...which is massaging her tight little backdoor with my thumbs each time I squeeze her cheeks together.
“Ohhh. Oh, that’s different. And good,” Immy whimpers, and thrusts back.
“It is?” I keep the surprise out of my voice. “Good.”
“Do you like that, too?” she asks, and then her mouth is wrapped around my length again, this time with the new addition of one of her shapely fingers circling between my cheeks, touching a sensitive spot that I’ve never bothered with.
But when your wife is sucking on you, and she starts massaging your ass, you start moaning, and before you know it, you’re a geyser in her mouth, and her finger is sliding inside of you.
For a second, everything is tight and tense, and then I remember, it’s my wife. My wife is my other half. If you’re a spiritual person, they are your soul mate.
Nothing good should be off limits, and so we move together, fingers sliding now, mouths still working, Imogene arching back farther each time to pop her clit into my mouth and let me finish her as her swirling finger makes me burst.
“Mmm, fuck, so good.” Imogene licks my cum up and leaves soft bites on my shaking thighs while I knead her bottom, mesmerized by how slick and shiny her pouting pink insides look. How inviting.
I’m going to be hard again in minutes. “Do you know how gorgeous you are? Every inch of you? How special you are to me? I’ve never been able to... Feel like this. Enjoy like this.”
“Be safe like this? I know.” Immy rolls off of me, and I pull her back to me, wanting her warmth against me.
“Naughty, perfect, Krampusnacht miracle, Christmas miracle, honeymoon miracle,” I growl into the uninjured side of her neck, hands caressing her gently.
Imogene moans, head back. Eyes closed. “Every day, a miracle. An ever-after miracle. For years, I didn’t know who I was, what I was.
I’m yours. I have a name I chose. Imogene Taylor.
I love it. Ohhh! Oh, my God!” Imogene suddenly pushes me away, looks up into my face, and giggles like she’s lost her mind.
“Okay, this has to be a good one,” I giggle back, just laughing because she’s laughing.
And this is what sex should be like. You roll from passionate, to sweet, to dirty, to serious, to laughing.
All the emotions that were absent or numbed for both of us are finally ours to play with.
I kiss her cheeks and nuzzle my nose to hers. “Tell me!”
“I’m Imogene Taylor. I’m IT. I.T. You’re the I.T. expert.”
I burst into a loud laugh, burying my head on her breasts. “No way.”
“You are my expert. Best friend. Lover. Husband.”
“Ohhh, I think I could be a little more expert. You gotta practice every day. Really study to be an expert. Try new things.” I fumble between us, rubbing my semi-hard cock between her thighs as they lock around my waist.