Epilogue
It's January now, cold and wintry and blowy in the Windy City as it always is this time of the year. The annual Trent Christmas reunion was very sentimental, and quite dull by comparison with what happened over Thanksgiving. To be sure, Henry Trent received delivery of the dozen Chevie pickup trucks ordered from his nephew's dealership. And his precocious black-haired daughter received every one of the presents she had outlined on her list.
What was most surprising at that Christmas reunion was the way Rose Aldrich practically hovered over her bespectacled husband and waited on him hand and foot, meekly quailing at the slightest steel in his usually soft voice and even more so at the occasional steely glint in his eyes. The week up in the North Woods had introduced Rose to some amazing proclivities on her husband's part, particularly the sacrifice of a maidenhead she had never expected to lose during her marriage: that of her tender, puckering anus, which had followed a good birch-switching over her bare bottom and thighs as she found herself tied wrists and ankles to the kitchen table and persuaded by the stinging cuts to beg him to do exactly that to her and to lubricate his prick with her own saliva to facilitate its passage into that narrow, exquisitely tender crevice.
During the Christmas reunion also, Ruth and Joyce Trent where constant companions, whispering to each other and eyeing their respective husbands with a certain amused and indulgent air. Mike had decided to make a clean breast of the whole affair and explain to his sympathetically understanding red-haired wife how his favorite uncle had tried to con him into the truck deal on a below-cost basis, and how he had put one over his uncle by giving him the ten percent reduction but neglecting to inform him that by December 1st, the dealership list price had gone down three hundred dollars, with a stolen hour with Joyce, Mike's "fringe dividend" thrown in for good measure. It had been a good joke on conniving Henry Trent, Ruth had gigglingly agreed.
And perhaps the happiest of all the Trent family was young Elizabeth herself, no longer Daddy's whipping girl. Two days after Christmas, she had persuaded both her father and mother to let her go out to a movie with Joanne, and her trustworthy girl friend had arranged for curly-haired Dan Thomas to meet them midway through the first feature and then slip out of the side exit of the theatre into his old jalopy. He had stopped to pick up Ricky Boles and they had driven to Ricky's house because Ricky's father and aunt (his mother had divorced Ricky's father three years ago) were out of town visiting relatives.
And while Joanne and Ricky had gone into one of the bedrooms, breathless and blushing Elizabeth had led Dan into another and, after whispering into his ear, "Did you bring it-you know-did you, honey?" and getting a sheepish nod in reply, had squealed with joyous anticipation as she sank down on her knees and began to zip down his fly and take out his sturdy young prick and caress and fondle it while her eyes widened with no little apprehension to see how superbly sizable it was for his age.
And a few minutes later, the condom properly tugged down over his stiff young ramrod to reassure her completely that nothing was going to go wrong, Elizabeth, naked except for her garter belt and her brand-new off-black nylons, was gurgling and cooing as she hugged her naked young lover and squirming as she felt his prick pry apart her twitching, already moist cuntal lips and gouge inside and teach her once again that grownups weren't the only ones who could have fun and secrets too.