We Live Only for Beauty Chapter 5

We Live Only for Beauty Chapter 5 We Live Only for Beauty Chapter 5

Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica


Status: Finished

Genre: Erotica



Following on Chapter 4



Following on Chapter 4


Submitted: January 15, 2016

A A A | A A A


Submitted: January 15, 2016





Once we had completed our work, we drove into town. The town centre comprised of a single mall with small shops and cafés on either side of a central walkway. There were no roads in the mall, and visitors had to park in one of the large designated areas.


As we arrived at the mall, I said: “Angel, there’s something I need to tell you.”


She looked at me quizzically. “What is it?” She inquired.


“This.” I replied, taking her in my arms and kissing her on her surprised mouth. “I love you.”


She laughed, kissing me back.


“You rascal!” she chided.


We walked arm-in-arm until we found a small coffee shop. Knowing how much I liked coffee, she assured me: “You haven’t tasted coffee like this before. Believe me.”


We had a light breakfast, and I sampled the café’s brew. Sara was right. It was delicious! Or maybe it was because I felt at that moment as though the whole world had suddenly become a better place.


After breakfast, we went back to the gardens. We walked through them enjoying the views. The day was clear and the air fresh and warm.


We came to a secluded spot in the gardens. Sara took my hands and placed them over the bowl of her tummy.


She leant back against me, and said softly: “For all we know, our baby could be developing in my womb as we speak.”


My stomach knotted as I felt a sense of excitement. I stroked her belly, kissed her cheek, and added: “Our baby!”


We stood like that for a while, and then headed for the fountains. For a while we sat, watching the water rise and fall.


“When does your uncle come back?” I asked.


“He told me round about three this afternoon.” Sara replied. “Why don’t you stay the night at our house. He won’t mind, and then tomorrow you can meet him. Or maybe you can even speak to him today.”





A cold sweat broke out over me at the prospect of meeting Sara’s stepfather. I had visions of this austere man looking suspiciously at me as I stumbled over my reasons for taking his stepdaughter away from him. But I knew that this meeting was unavoidable if we wanted our relationship to develop further.


We returned to the mansion. I decided to do some writing so as to distract me until the time came. I also sent an e-mail to my contact in the city to pack up my apartment. Just as I was sending it, Sara informed me that her stepdad had just arrived in the village, and would be home soon.


Sensing my nervousness, she put her arms around me and gave me a reassuring kiss.


“Don’t be troubled my sweet.” She consoled me, “My stepfather’s a reasonable man. I’m sure he will like you. I’ve already told him a lot about you.”


“And don’t worry.” She added, “It’s all been good.”


Alas her words did little to comfort me. I paced back and forth trying to supress a feeling that I last felt waiting outside the principal’s office at high-school. My fear rose when I heard the car pull into the driveway. My palms began to sweat, my mouth went dry, and I felt a knot in my stomach.


“Tristan.” Sara called, “I need your help with the bags.”


The moment of truth! I clenched my fist, and headed for the front door.


“Coming.” I answered.


I helped with the luggage, trying to delay the inevitable. But then it happened: Lucien Freiling was standing in the doorway to the study as I finished with the bags. From the moment I saw him, my reservations began to subside. His face was strong but open and good-natured. He appeared to be a lot younger than I thought he would be.


Sara came up and did the introductions. “Papa, this is Tristan Biggs, the guy I’ve been telling you about.”


“Ah yes.” He laughed, “In some great detail as well.”


“Mister Freiling. It’s an honour sir.” I stated, shaking his hand.


“Call me Lucien. You’re not a teenager.” He returned, “Now - Sara has told me that the two of you are in love.” I began to explain, but he raised his hand. “Well I must say, she has always had good taste.”


“Thank-you sir.” I stammered, somewhat taken aback.


“Her passed suitors have only had one thing on their minds. She tells me you are different.” He declared. Recalling our sexual encounters, I blushed somewhat, but he continued: “I cannot deny that she is a desirable woman, and it would take a cad not to want her. But I need to know if there is something more. So - I know this sounds old-fashioned - but I need to know what your intentions are.”


Just as I was about to answer, Sara suggested that we adjourn to the study before we go any further.


“Yes - That’s a good idea.” Lucien agreed, “Come - I have a splendid sherry in the cupboard. You look like you need one. I know I do.”


He poured the sherry and handed us each a glass. We sat down, and I began to tell him of my plans to move to the village.


“That sounds good.” He interjected, “In fact I know someone who can help you with a place to stay. Their name is Bauman, and they live on the other side of the village. What has this to do with Sara?”


Sara took the reins: “Well papa - The Bauman’s cottage is large enough for the two of us to live in. For the time being, Tristan and I can live together there until he establishes himself more.”


There was a moment’s silence, and I was convinced that Lucien was going to object to the idea of Sara and I cohabiting. Just when I thought our plan was going to fall through, he finally nodded his head.


“Okay.” He finally said, “I must admit, I’m not entirely ofay with the idea of you two living together. But you are both adults, and I am also a bit old fashioned. Part of me says ‘no’, but then I look at my stepdaughter. For the first time since her parents were killed, she has a sparkle in her eye. So who am I to deny her this chance at happiness?”


“Sir,” I intervened, “I have an idea that might work for all of us.” Sara looked questioningly at me. “Sorry angel, it came to me while I was waiting, so I didn’t have time to mention it to you. My suggestion is this: Why don’t Sara and I get handfasted? I mean - that is a tradition here, isn’t it?”


Sara’s eyes beamed with delight. Her smile said it all.


“Yes.” Agreed Lucien, “That would work. After a year and a day, you can reassess your relationship, and either get married or just renew your handfasting vows if you are still not sure. When would this take place?”


“I need to clear things up back in the city. There are a few of my belongings in my apartment that I have to pack up. I need to get them here. But we can have the ceremony as soon as I get back.” I replied.


“Splendid.” Agreed Lucien, “We’ll arrange things this side, and once everything is prepared, the two of you can attend the ceremony.”


“Great!” I said, “I’m leaving first thing tomorrow morning. I plan to get back here before the end of the week.


I would like to continue with my research into the homeopathic herb trade that your brother and you started here. I spoke to the magazine for which I write, and they were very interested in publishing an article on it.” I added.


“That’s fine.” Lucien affirmed, “I will take you out to the forest where we harvest the herbs and show you the ropes when you get back. I’m sure Sara has already shown you her side. She is more interested in the mystical uses for the herbs, whereas I concentrate on the medicinal.”


Later that evening, Sara and I were walking in the garden. She turned toward me, and I took her in my arms. Then she said: “You see. I told you my stepdad would like you. I knew everything was going to be okay when he offered to share his sherry with you.”


Out of pure exuberance I took her round the waist and, holding her tightly, picked her up off her feet. To support her own weight, she put her hands on my shoulders. Her face shone with love and joy as she looked down at me.


“I’ve never been so happy!” Sara exclaimed as I put her back on her own two feet. “Part of me thinks this is a dream, and that I’m going to wake up to my old routine life again. But then I see your face, and I know that this is real.”


“My dream started when we first met, and has only gotten better since then.” I responded, “Not even in my wildest, wettest dreams, did I ever think that I would fall in love with a woman such as you, and have her reciprocate that love.”


That night we slept in different bedrooms. Sara was in her normal room, and I was in the spare room on the opposite side of the passage. The bathroom was at the end of the short passage.


After finishing some work on my laptop, I decided to have a quick wash before I went to bed. I went to the bathroom to find the door closed. I knocked lightly on the door.


“Yes.” Came Sara’s voice from within.


“Sorry angel.” I apologised, “I’ll come back later.”


“No come in.” she replied.


I opened the door. She had her towel wrapped round her waist. I had hardly stepped over the threshold when she came and put her arms around me. She took my hand and placed it on her breast then arched her neck so that I could kiss her.


My attention turned to her other breast. I took her nipple in my mouth and began to stroke it with my tongue.


Feverishly she removed my t-shirt and began running her hands down my abdomen, concentrating on the small tuft of hair that grew from my navel downwards. Her hand strayed under my pyjama pants. As she pulled them off, my erection sprang out from the restraint. She smiled upon seeing it. Once she had dispatched of my pants, her hands began to stroke and gently tug on my balls. My cock jerked and leaped freely in response.


“My sweet.” She whispered, “Give me something to remember you by.”


“I’m not going for long.” I replied, smiling.


Determined that she came first, I took her in my arms and lifted her off the ground. Her legs wrapped round me as I carried her to the dresser. Once there, I began to lave her honeypot, placing my mouth over her entire mons. Her hands steadied herself on the edge of the dresser as her hips gyrated, pushing my tongue into her eager opening. It was not long afterwards, I felt her secretions trickle into my mouth as her movements became more uncontrolled. Her hips leapt as her butt tightened and eased, pushing her mound harder against my tongue.


“Oh yes baby! Keep me warm while you’re away.” She groaned.


Sara then told me to lean up against the dresser. With her one hand, she continued to fondle my balls. The other slid up and down my penis. She had just put hand cream on, so her touch was lighter and softer than ever.


Holding my cock still, she began to dandle the underside with her tongue. She looked up at me and, seeing my face twitch and my eyes close in reaction to her special treatment, smiled in satisfaction.


She turned her attention to the sensitive frenulum, pressing her tongue hard against it. Her massages became short and intense. Every now and then, she would swathe the tip with her mouth, tasting the pre-cum that flowed freely from it. The tip of her tongue parted the two sides of the opening at the tip of my dick. The intrusion had a strange dual effect on me as it stung a little bit, but also rocketed my pleasure to new heights.


My hips began to buck uncontrollably as the sensations raced up my jerking member. As I felt myself reach climax, she held my dick upright and watched my cum spurt out like a fountain. She opened her mouth and caught some of it on her tongue as it came back down. The rest of it landed on her face and in her hair. As my orgasm subsided, it trickled down over her hand.


Once I was sated, she stood up and bent over the washbasin to rinse her mouth out. As she did this, I put my hands on her hips and began to stroke up towards her torso. I then bent over her, and kissed her at the base of her neck.


She stood up, and, turning towards me, stated: “I have never tasted a man’s cum before. I had heard it was terrible, but it’s not that bad.” She kissed me with a smile on her lips.


We decided to take a bath together. The tub was quite a bit smaller than the one in the main bathroom, but we managed to fit ourselves in.


This time Sara took the initiative, and began to wash me. She sat behind me, and I could feel her soft breasts up against my back as she moved. Her thighs were placed on either side of my hips. I could feel them flex and relax against me.


Once we had finished bathing, we kissed each other goodnight and went our separate ways. The bed felt kind of empty without her. I consoled myself that soon we would be together without any interruptions.


Early the following morning, I went outside to pack my bags into the car. As I walked back to the house, Sara came to meet me. She fell about my neck as though we were being parted for an age. As I put my arms around her, she began to cry, kissing my neck again and again.


Finally, she let go of me, and I kissed her on the lips. I dried her tears and assured her: “Angel. I’ll only be gone a few days, and then I will be back for good. Okay?”


Tearfully she nodded, and smiled. “Okay.” She whispered.


We said our goodbyes, and I drove slowly down the avenue. She still stood there watching me when I turned the corner towards the gates. I travelled through the countryside, and felt as though I was leaving home behind me rather than heading towards it.


As I drew nearer to the city of Aleied, the traffic became steadily more congested. The noise and pollution were an affront to me now more than ever before. I knew in my heart of hearts that I didn’t belong here, and I couldn’t wait to get out of it again. I had little love for the place before, and I had even less for it now. I knew I was leaving, and my departure could not happen quickly enough.


When I got to my old apartment, I could see that my colleague had made good on his promise. In the sitting room were four boxes, two suitcases, and a few unopened letters. He had also left me a note saying that the estate agent had found a buyer for the apartment, and that the deal was expected to be finalised in a few weeks.



I began carrying the boxes to the car. I felt that I had being released from a long incarceration. With each box, each suitcase … came the sense that another shackle had been removed from my soul. At last I felt free.


It was dark by the time I had finished packing things away, and I was hungry. I went to buy takeaways from the local fish and chips shop, and ate them as I normally did at the table on the pavement.


It was then that I realised that I had just one more issue to settle before I could leave the city behind me: Andrea. Sweet, wild Andrea. She was an exotic dancer at one of the review bars in the seedy part of town. Most of the time, she just danced for her clients, but over the years since my divorce, she had done a lot more for me. Many were the cold city nights when I found some warmth between her thighs.


Late that night, I drove into the part of town where the buildings became more and more dilapidated. The entrance to Club Aphrodite was in just such a building. As an honorary member I was shown to a special table nearest the stage. Andrea was busy strutting her stuff as usual, her long fine blonde hair waving as she swayed from side to side. At sight of me, her grey eyes shone in the dim light.


“I’ll be done soon.” She mouthed, blowing me a kiss. I smiled up at her. Often I had thought that - if things were different - I would have made this woman mine. But her love for the stage, and her addiction to ‘Pinks’ made such a notion little more than a dream.


She finished her dance, and skipped down the stairs toward me, ignoring the hands that readily patted her bum, and pawed at her breasts and more. Andrea fell about me, and kissed me. I stood still. Then she said: “What’s up hon? Ain’t ya glad to see me?”


“Annie.” I told her, calling her by the name I had given her when we first met. “I’ve come to say goodbye. I’m leaving town.”


“Leaving!” she exclaimed, “Well it’s about fuckin’ time!”


I was somewhat taken aback by her reaction, but she continued nonetheless: “Let’s face it hon. This place ain’t done you any fuckin’ good. You need to go to a place where there’s decent folk. And please tell me there’s a dame in all this.”


“As a matter of fact, there is.” I admitted. I went on to tell her about Sara and the plans we had made. She smiled broadly and openly as she listened. Her eyes shone even brighter than usual.


“Well then?” she stated: “All’s good. This calls for a celebration. Charlie!” she called to the barman, “Get the man a drink on me.”


“I thought you’d be mad at me.” I said.



“What for?” she asked, “Listen - I love you Mr Biggs. You know I do. Always have, ever since that night you went all tearful on me after you had bust up with that other bitch. But, hey, I’m a dancin’ girl, a fuck for hire. What could I offer you? This other broad sounds great too! Better than what this used piece of goods could ever give you.”


“You’re not used goods, Annie. Not to me. And you don’t fuck for hire.” I retorted, “You know that.”


She smiled at me, and said: “You were always a sweetheart. Now finish up and get outta here before you end up in trouble. See ya ‘round hon.”


We finished our drinks, and I kissed her goodbye. She stroked my cheek, and in the dim light I saw a tear twinkle in the corner of her eye. I took her face in my hands, and kissed it away. She whispered: “Go - You crazy bastard.”


As I turned to leave, she playfully pinched me on the butt. I turned round and waggled my finger at her. She laughed and said: “Something to remember me by.”


She waved, and still laughing, went back inside.


And that was the last I saw of sweet Andrea. As I drove back to my empty apartment, I felt as if I was betraying her. Part of me wanted to go back to that dive and rescue her from all the hurt she had endured. But I knew that it could never be. The shackles that held her there were too strong for her to break.


The sun had only just begun to lighten the polluted city sky when I left the jungle of steel and concrete behind me. The further it faded into the distance the more the sense of liberation overtook me.


My elation was dampened somewhat when I received a message on my cell-phone which read: “Go you crazy diamond. Find yourself again - luv alwayz. Annie.”


Ah - my sweet crazy Andrea! Beneath the hard exterior was a nice chick, just messed up by the shit that life had dealt her. Silently I prayed that she could - one day - find her own star to wish upon and get out of her private hell.


But then a second message appeared which cheered me up again. It was from Sara. In it were directions to the Bauman’s cottage. She signed off by saying: “Yours always - S.”


‘Yours always …’ It had a nice ring to it. A sense of certainty, of permanence, of belonging. I sent an sms back, saying: “And forever!”


© Copyright 2019 Tristan Biggs. All rights reserved.

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