Contractual Obligations [or; Accidentally Seducing a Fallen Angel] - Epilogue: Centuries to come

At some point, the bed had stopped smelling like either you or Candy.

It was hard to say when with any precision. More likely than not, it had happened in those long months when you had slept together, where you had both taken to cooking and eating together. When a couple slept in the same bed, worked in the same place, and largely did the same things – then was it so surprising you would grow used to their scent, and in time, think of it as your own?

Perhaps.

Waking up in the morning with a hard cock and your wife not by your side didn’t get any easier, though. Largely because nights where you didn’t sleep by her side made her absence feel all the realer.

Last night hadn’t been one of those nights. The two of you had spent quite a lot of time together in bed, in fact. And if she was not with you, delicately leaning over you, coyly plying moans of appreciation out of you while delicately feeding you her home-cooked breakfast…

Well. No one could blame you for deciding not to dress as you made your way to the kitchen. It was so much larger, in this new home. There had been a lot of talks about that. About whether or not the two of you wanted children, and about the fact that it was possible at all. It was a short debate when you had both agreed to kick that can far down the road.

“We have the rest of forever to decide.” Candy had decided. It had been a relief to know neither of you felt you were ready.

The topic of what, precisely, your new home should look like had taken a bit longer to work out. Candy had owned so many, and could simply create one as she willed. Yet you didn’t want some grand palace, or some large and empty nest. You had wanted a small place, comfy and homely, where the two of you could live in peace.

Yet you were not opposed to a massive kitchen, stock with all the tools and resources either of you could ever want, and so that was what you had gotten.

Candy’s quiet humming reaches you before you can see her. The smell of breakfast followed. You smile, humming along as you make your way to the kitchen. It was yet another song you didn’t know – something from ages past.

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As days passed by, Candy didn’t quite grow more emotive. She simply grew less reserved about acting in the ways she only did in private, and about no longer hiding those little ways she did emote from you. Remembering a time when she didn’t idly hum around, when she hid all her emotions rather than a select few from you – it was downright nostalgic.

Cold wood yields to warm stone. You spy Candy whisking away at something in a bowl by hand, pausing in her whisking to scoop a bit of whatever she was preparing to taste it. Some sort of finger food pastries, already cooling, sit by her side.

Most importantly, of course, is that she wears nothing except for an apron. It barely hugs her curves, the edge of her breasts poking out from their top, her firm ass hidden by nothing more than the strings tied above them. The cues are obvious.

Candy doesn’t react to your humming, letting you draw close as you reach out to hug her. She chuckles, letting out an appreciative moan as that hug transforms into something very different. Your cock hardens as it slips into the crack of her ass. It clenches and firms the moment she feels you stiffen against her, even as your hands find their way to playing with one of her nipples… and her belly button.

“Oh? Energetic this morning, aren’t you, honey? Are you sure you want this on an empty stomach?” She giggles. Largely because you were tickling her belly button, yes, but that was irrelevant. It always felt good to press a hand to Candy’s stomach, or your head to her heart, and to simply listen.

“Why satisfy one appetite when I can satisfy both? You’ve spoiled me silly, insisting on getting me breakfast in bed for so many years.” You chuckle. Candy had been… very, very firm, about the kind of language she liked when you were trying to get her in the mood. You hadn’t taken to it naturally, but for her, you’d given it your best try.

“Oh, what a beast I’ve made you.” She reaches down to slap your butt like the rear of some horse. It certainly makes you buck a little. A bit of batter splatters across her chin.

“Yet you hold the leash.” You blush, reaching up to brush a hand against her chin. You wipe the batter away from her face, nodding in appreciation as you hold those fingers to you mouth to taste it.

“Only if I’m in the mood. Which I admit, I usually am.” Candy grips your behind much more firmly.

Passionate, sinful decadence follows. She’s turned you around so that you’re the one laying on the counter in a few moments, laying you as gently as she can across the counter as you appreciatively feel – and fill – her up. In return, she takes time to serve you food.

If either of you felt like it, this situation could’ve been made more extreme. But it was a slow, lazy morning, and soon both of you’d had your fill.

“Who knew Hell could be so much like heaven?” You sigh in bliss, hand tracing up Candy’s back. Who knew who’d embraced who first in the aftermath?

“Not me.” She smiled.

And so you lived happily ever after, from never until forever, deep in that stygian pit named Abaddon.