How the Story Ends Pt. 02

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Alex and Evie spend a winter at a ski resort


Author’s note:

This story is fiction; all characters and situations are fictional and any relationship they may bear to any living or dead person is purely coincidental.

This story was inspired by the song ‘Please don’t tell me how the story ends’ sung by Kris Kristofferson.


The staff quarters of the ski resort contained mainly rooms for singles, with only a few for couples. Both Alex and I had been allocated singles rooms, which were in very short supply, so when we requested to change to a double, freeing up two singles, this request was immediately granted. I moved into our room from my single while Alex simply moved in directly. Unfortunately, for me it was a work day, so we only had time for a quick kiss and cuddle before I had to return to work, while Alex checked out the ski facilities and met up with the instruction coordinator and was given a conducted tour of the areas behind the scenes.

Eventually my work day came to an end and I was able to meet up with Alex in our room. All meals were provided for staff in the resort dining room, commencing from 6pm, so we had an hour to fill in. We quickly found that the bed was very comfortable and also that the room was quite cool, judging by the ease with which my nipples became erect and hard, or maybe it was simply arousal. We’d quickly stripped off and snuggled together under a duvet, kissing, caressing, stimulating each other. I was wet, Alex was hard, so two became one as we made love together as though it was a year, not just a week, since the last time.

We were both so hot and horny that I came after only a few thrusts, then we relaxed for a short time and resumed, this time both of us cumming together, my clasping cunt stimulating Alex’s hard member until he was no longer able to hold back. The feel of his hot juices pumping into the end of my love tunnel pushed me to higher levels and I once again had to bite Alex’s shoulder hard to prevent my screams. We slowly relaxed and lay there, holding each other, caressing each other lovingly.

“I was so afraid I’d lost you forever,” I said, “It was amazing receiving the call and realizing it was the same resort where you were working. I was so tempted to phone you and tell you, but I thought I’d surprise you instead.”

“Yes, well, it was a surprise, but not totally. I received an email from management asking if any of the new season’s staff knew of anyone who could work in customer service because they had a very late cancellation. I suggested you, but I didn’t hear back from management or from you, so I guessed you didn’t get the job. So, it was a wonderful surprise, but not totally unexpected.”

I hugged him again, hard. “Thank you, sweetheart. Seems like we really didn’t know how the story was to end. So, were you serious in proposing marriage?”

“Absolutely. You are my fiancée, unless of course you’re having second thoughts.”

“No, none,” I reassured him, “I am deeply honored and unbelievably happy. This is the best day of my life.”

“Yes, I agree. After we parted, I had the thought that I should have proposed to you. If I’d done that, then we’d probably have stayed together. It’s not often that people like us are given a second chance to correct foolish mistakes. It was obviously meant to be.”

“Well, I’m so glad it worked out like this. I love you, darling, and I’m so looking to being your wife.”

“Yes, and I your husband, and looking forward to lots of kids.”

“Kids!? I hadn’t thought of them. We have so much to talk about. Even after a summer together, we really know so little about each other. We’d better let our parents know as well; they haven’t even met their future son-in-law and daughter-in-law. I guess, that will have to wait until after winter because we won’t have more than our usual two days a week off. By the way, what days do you have off?”

“I’ve organized that for us,” he replied. “They had set me down for Tuesday and Wednesday, while you were down for Monday and Tuesday, so I have arranged for them to make both Tuesday and Wednesday. Nobody has weekends off because those are our busy time, as are public holidays, like Independence Day holidays; on those we must have all hands on deck.”

“Darling, you’re wonderful, you think of everything. Thank you.”

“Well, it was for us, not just me. I didn’t want to be working while I could be making love to you. I also want to teach you to ski, so at least one day a week you’ll have your own personal ski instructor.”

“Honey, that would be wonderful, but I don’t have any gear.”

“That’s not a problem, the resort provides ski gear for all staff to use on their days off. They may as well because they have the rental gear and it’s not fully used during the week, so it’s of benefit to them that all staff know how to ski and can discuss ski matters with visitors. After all, if a visitor asks you what’s the best place to ski, you need to be able to answer knowledgeably, so it’s a good idea if you’ve gaziantep escort reklamları actually skied those runs.”

I felt his hand starting to gently caress my breast, sending beautiful sensations down to my clit, which caused my hips to undulate gently, stimulating his partly softened cock so I felt it hardening inside me once again. We kissed, embracing each other. It felt so wonderful to be back together again; it had seemed to be so long apart, even though it was only a week. I loved Alex, I realized, more than life itself. And I loved riding his cock. I held him and rolled him onto his back. I noticed his anticipatory grin, knowing from previous experience that he liked me to take control sometimes. I felt his cock expand, forcing its way deeper inside me as I repositioned myself, leaning forward so my breasts were within easy reach of his groping hands and my clit was pressed firmly against the root of his cock. I began moving back and forth, gently, stimulating myself, knowing that this would also stimulate him. I decided I wanted another orgasm before supper and I wanted to do this without him cumming. That way he’d be horny and want to fuck me again before we slept. I shuddered gently with anticipation.

My arousal increased quickly as I moved carefully on his body, feeling the head of his cock moving across the end of my cunt, stimulating me deep inside, his hands cupping my breasts, rolling my nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, sending bolts of electricity to my clit. I felt my head go back, my breathing becoming more rapid, and saw his grin becoming wider as he watched me approach my orgasm.

“I love watching you cum, honey,” he murmured, “Cum for me, my sweetness, cum hard.”

His words pushed me further, faster. I felt the waves of pleasure begin to move through my body. My eyes closed of their own accord, my orgasm pouring upwards through my body; I gritted my teeth, holding off as much as possible to intensify the pleasure, then it was too much. He squeezed my nipples hard and I went over the hump, an involuntary shriek escaping my lips as I writhed in ecstasy on his thrusting cock.

A few moments (a lifetime?) later I felt myself relaxing as the ecstasy ebbed away. I heard my breathing slowing and leant forward onto his chest, his arms wrapping around me, holding me, forever secure. Oh, how I loved this man who was to be my husband, but when, I wondered? Later, my mind told me.

After a short time we stirred, I climbed off him, wiped his cum and my juices from my pussy as he rolled out of bed, taking the proffered towel and wiping his cock and balls also. We then dressed, kissed, and headed off to supper.

During the next few days we both settled into the routines. Every morning I was meeting and greeting customers, attending to their needs, reassuring them in an unfamiliar environment. Sometimes it was hard for them to even walk outside because of the icy surface, or, at the other extreme after a dump of snow when it was knee deep they would take a long time to move anywhere and expend huge amounts of energy doing not a great deal. Customers came in all shapes and sizes, from very young children with their parents wanting family passes and ski lessons, to experts who had their own equipment and wanted to know the best places on any particular day.

Generally, people were happy to be there, were polite, considerate and, as much as possible, patient. However, as a relatively good looking, relatively young female with no rings on her fingers, I did get the occasional guy who thought I was the absolutely perfect partner for his apres-ski entertainment. I must admit that I was tempted on occasions; supper and an evening with a handsome, rich guy is not to be lightly refused, but I was engaged, even without the ring to show that, and I felt a certain loyalty to Alex. After all, we’d been lovers now for nearly half a year, were engaged to be married and I felt he deserved a fiancée who was faithful to him. However, all that changed one evening.

We met in the bar before supper, as had become our custom, where we talked about our day, the people we’d met, what we’d done and had a quiet drink to unwind.

“I had an interesting proposal today,” commented Alex as he sipped his beer.

“Oh,” I replied, “Do tell. I’m all ears.”

“I’m not sure that I should. You might get angry with me.”

I lay my hand on his and looked him in the eyes. “Darling, I will never get angry with you for telling me something, but if you don’t tell me what you should tell me, and I find out, well, hell hath no fury and all that. So, what was the proposal?”

“Well, I had a private client for ski lessons. Now usually private clients are filthy rich and quite snobby, and I wouldn’t want to associate with them in my own time. But this one was probably mid-twenties, very attractive, well-spoken, had a wicked sense of humor, was sexy as hell and was alone, skiing for the week. She invited me to spend a few nights with her while she was here, keeping her company in the evenings and all night long. She told me she’d make it worth my while in more ways than one.”

I waited for him to go on, but he obviously wanted to see what my response would be.

“So, you told him no, that you had a fiancée who you cuddled up to and made love to every night and that she would just have to find her own partner somewhere else?”

“Well, no, I didn’t tell her that. I did tell her that I had a girlfriend and that I’d have to talk it over with her and we’ve arranged to meet again tomorrow for another ski lesson. So, we need to discuss this. It’s unlikely to be the last proposal I receive, and you will undoubtedly receive similar proposals from rich males, so we do need to discuss it and come to some agreement on future situations like this.”

I looked at the bubbles rising in my glass of sparkling wine, wondering where this was leading. I was going to be his wife very soon. We would be married. I suddenly realized that it came back to our definitions and expectation of marriage. Did marriage have to be monogamous? I’d recently heard a woman telling another that monogamy was simply making love to one man at a time. I’d heard people discuss polyamory, living with multiple partners; others describing monogamy as being dull and boring, very much past its use by date. We must have sat there, silently, for nearly five minutes, when Alex broke the silence.

“Well?” he asked, “You seem to be doing some deep thinking. Anything you can share?”

“You proposed to me a few days ago; I accepted, so we’re engaged to be married. What is your concept of marriage?”

It was now Alex’s turn to examine the bubbles rising in his beer. At last he looked up and grinned his infectious grin at me.

“Maybe it could be easier to say what I don’t want our marriage to be,” he began, “I don’t want marriage to be boring. I don’t want us to spend our lives together, each wishing he or she was somewhere else, doing something else, with someone else. I don’t want us to reach old age and look back on our lives with regrets for opportunities not taken, adventures not experienced. Life is too short not to have all the fun you can find, and it’s too long to do it only with one person until you know everything that person will say, exactly how they will respond. However, marriage is loving one person above all others, enjoying the company of that person more than anyone else, knowing that person loves you more than anyone else. It is being with your partner by choice, not duty.”

He lapsed into silence and I sipped my wine, thinking. Did those concepts line up with my own ideas of marriage? If not, could I live with his ideas or could I change his ideas to align with mine? Were my ideas of marriage, which were definitely different from his and far more conservatively traditional, any more right that his? I was very pleased we were having this conversation now instead of a few weeks after we’d each said ‘I do’.

“So, clarifying, what you’re saying is that even if we were married, you would think it was Ok to take up this woman’s offer and spend a few nights with her, leaving your wife home alone? Is that what you’re really saying here?”

I realized I may have pushed him into a corner by deliberately pushing for a definite answer to a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ question, but I felt I needed to do that and it was better to clear the matter up completely once and for all. After a few minutes of thought, he replied.


“And does that go for me also? Can I accept offers from attractive men to spend the night with them also?”

“Yes. What’s good for the gander is good for the goose,” he replied, clearly taking the bull by the horns and being totally honest with me; I’d have expected nothing less. I thought for a few minutes, then downed my drink.

“Let’s go and eat,” I suggested.

He swallowed his beer, took my hand and together we walked into the dining area. We didn’t broach the subject again until we had finished our meal and walked back to our room arm in arm. One part of me found it amazing that we could so objectively look at this situation that affected the core of our relationship and still remain friends, lovers and deeply in love with each other. In our room we embraced, kissed and gently stripped each other before climbing into bed together, where we lay beside each other, arms entwined. Only then did he ask for my response.

“Well, that certainly gives me something to think about,” I began. “It’s so very different from what I’d planned, you know, a traditional marriage, traditional vows, forsaking all others, till death us do part, etc. I must admit, compared with the future you’ve outlined, the traditional marriage sounds boring. I guess it was designed for times when people didn’t live so long and didn’t have so much spare time. They had lots of kids, grew old and died, end of story. Now people can choose how many kids they have and when or even if, have more free time to undertake exciting activities, like fucking rich men, or women as the case may be, and so it’s probably a wise move to change the traditional vows. Maybe if that was done more often there would be fewer divorces and unhappy marriages.”

“So perhaps people should develop some other way of showing a commitment to each other while still allowing emotional and sexual relationships with others. After all, where’s the harm in that?”

“Many people would tell you that the harm occurs when children are involved, but in unions where there are no children, such as we have now and could have if we married with appropriate vows, surely there is no harm. There could be a few challenges though; traditions can run very deep and if having other lovers is not considered cheating, the brain would need to process that carefully just because of the prevalence of the traditional ideas.”

“So, in that sort of open relationship, could there be such a thing as cheating on your partner?”

“Absolutely. Cheating would be when you had a relationship with someone else but went behind your partner’s back, so you either didn’t tell him or her, or you lied when asked about it. In a trusting, open relationship, there should be no need for either. If neither of those practices are forbidden, why would anyone lie about it?”

“Good question,” replied Alex, “There’s no logical reason but maybe tradition dictates that a person feels guilty, maybe because the love they feel for a casual partner is greater than the love they have for their bonded partner. There may be other reasons, but that is one possibility.”

“So, where does this leave us? Are we going to allow ourselves the freedom to make love with and spend the night with casual partners this winter? How about after we’re married?”

“Let’s call it bonded instead of married, that changes our mental image. From my perspective, I certainly hope that we will allow ourselves these freedoms, both this winter and for the rest of our lives after we’re bonded.” He paused, thinking. “Yes, I like that term, better than marriage. It has so much less baggage.”

I decided to take the plunge. “Ok, I agree to give you the freedom to sleep with other women on condition that you allow me the same freedom. Do you agree with this?”

“Yes,” replied Alex.

“And do you agree that you will be open and honest in describing your casual liaisons, using them as stimulation for our lovemaking rather than as evidence of unfaithfulness, while I also will be open and honest and describe my own casual liaisons?”

Alex grinned at me. “Absolutely yes. I am looking forward to it because it will be a wonderful way of ensuring our bonding never becomes boring. If we’d bonding, does that mean we’ll be in bondage?”

I chuckled, feeling a surge of arousal in my body at the thought of practising bondage with Alex. “If you like, that could be arranged,” I replied with a grin.

We turned towards each other and kissed, our hands wandering over the other’s body, caressing, stimulating, loving. I felt Alex’s cock pressing against my thigh.

“It feels like you’re still keen to make love with me, darling, let’s make love to cement the deal,” I suggested.

The thought of having sex with someone else, with Alex’s blessing, had made me really horny. I quickly reversed my position, straddling Alex’s head and lowering my dripping pussy to his mouth as I gently stroked his cock to full erectness, then gripped his balls with one hand and swallowed his cock, taking it deeply down my throat, moving up and down a few times then pulling off to take a few breaths before repeating the process. I felt his tongue on my clit and then his fingers entering me, first one, then two, three and finally all four fingers on one hand were inserted into my love tunnel as he stroked my clit with his thumb. I reflexively humped my hips against his hand, wanting greater stimulation, greater depth. I felt his hips rising, forcing his cock deeper into my throat as I closed my lips around him and sucked hard.

He clasped me around my stomach and rolled us both over, then withdrew his cock and his fingers, rotated until he was over me, pushed his arms under my legs and pushed them upwards, spreading me wide apart, then he entered me hard, finding full depth on his first thrust. I heard my grunt as the air was pushed from my lungs. He pulled out almost completely, then thrust back inside, setting up a hard rhythm that pushed us both towards our climaxes. Then he stopped and turned off the bedside lamp.

“Now, my darling, imagine that I’m a rich businessman, on holiday here, who is paying you handsomely to sleep with him tonight. What will you do now? How will you feel?”

I let my imagination run wild for a few seconds, then tightened my grip around Alex’s body, humping my hips upwards against him, wrapping my legs around his ass and pulling him further into me, holding him there as I gently rubbed his back with my hands. I felt Alex relax, then groan in pleasure as my stimulation pushed him towards his release. I nibbled his neck with my teeth, feeling his response in his thrusts as he seemed to focus on himself, on his pleasure, his orgasm. He thrust into me hard, squeezing my clit hard, then he gripped my nipples with fingers and thumb and squeezed as he spurted his hot semen deep inside me.

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