The end of the adventures of Emily and Mike (names changed). Can be read in series or standalone, background in Part 1.

Tess O’Meter Green.

-X

Following our escapades at BDSM Manor, Mike and I entered the beautiful fall season not realizing that after nearly four years of on and off fun and frolics (mostly on!) we were also nearing the end of our friends with benefits adventures.

As the leaves turned red and gold, we went hiking for a few days on Vancouver Island, and I took the opportunity to show Mike what proper zip-wiring is all about.

Most of which he spent adding to my grey hairs by hanging upside down in the harness. I mean, the man has no hips! How is that even possible?

Not too long after we returned to our favourite kinky accommodation and I lost the toss on whose turn it was to submit first. (Not that kind of toss you filthy minded people.)

Mike had decided to try some mild humiliation (just between the two of us) and had spotted some equipment the last time we were here.

So I found myself, blushing a deep crimson color, on a gynecological examination bench, with my legs in medical stirrups.

I was also strapped in across the torso, just below my breasts, and my wrists were tied. Not enough to panic me. I could reach my hair, my breasts, flail around quite a lot.

But I didn’t have enough freedom to grab Mike’s head and hold him against me.

Had I been able to reach that far, I would have used his ability to breathe in some short-term hostage negotiations.

As in, let me cum or learn how to breathe through your ears, you bastard.

He had been holding me on the edge for what seemed like hours.

Not only was this acutely embarrassing, legs akimbo, thighs a-quivering, and incredibly vulnerable. The evil sod would not allow me relief.

“You fucking bastard!” I yelled for the hundredth time, “let me cum.”

Mike ran his tongue obscenely through my folds, deliberately making a slurping sound as he did so, and then rubbed his stubbly beard over my clit, before raising his head and grinning at me.

“Honestly, no,” he said, “I’m enjoying this way too much.”

“Please!”

“I think you forgot something,” he grumbled.

I was a sweaty, red faced, panting mess, and not in the mood for niceties.

“Piss off.”

Mike raised his eyebrows, then bent down and french kissed my Pussy.

“Ahhhh, no, no. Pleeaaassseeee,” I sobbed.

“Please what?”

I gave in, “Please Master, please my lovely, lovely Master, let me cum.”

Mike licked me again and then walked around and leaned over me, “I think you have to apologize first for being so rude.”

I pouted, “Sorry, Master. Please may I cum,” I was crying at this point. My Pussy was throbbing so hard, it HURT.

“Kiss me,” Mike demanded.

“Urghh, no,” I moaned.

Mike laughed.

I squeezed some extra tears out in the hope he would relent.

“Won’t work,” he said, “You’ve forgotten to call me Master at least six times this evening, and you’ve been very rude.”

He leaned closer, “Kiss me, and you can cum.”

Wrinkling my nose, I reached up and pulled his face down to mine. Mike’s tongue quickly dived deep as he explored my mouth in the sloppiest kiss on record.

Which was pretty gross in itself; even worse as I could taste myself.

He laughed at my hopeful look when he stood back up and walking back between my legs, he quickly covered himself and then sheathed himself deep inside me.

“Ahhhh,” I was shaking the entire bench as Mike started to thrust, so, so ready to cum.

It didn’t take long for either of us. Mike braced on the bench, his hands resting either side of my waist, both of us breathing hard.

“Thank you, Master,” I smiled, relaxing back against the bench.

With an evil smirk Mike pushed himself upright, disposed of the condom, and then started the whole thing again.

Unsurprisingly we slept late the following morning, and went for walk along the coast, before returning for my evening in charge.

Mike was surprised when we walked into our playroom for the night.

Sparkling clean, it was the same room as the night before, and set up exactly the same way.

“What, you wanna go again?” he asked me, looking confused.

I gave him the look, “Get onto that bench, Boy Toy!”

Mike smiled ruefully, and with good grace stripped down and clambered onto the bench. Allowing me to secure him exactly as I had been secured the night before.

This meant I had fantastic access to his little boy hole, and his balls hung down beautifully vulnerable, his cock was easy reach as well.

As I secured his ankles and knees, I saw it dawn on him just how exposed this bench was.

“Whoa,” he said softly.

“Fun, yea?” I teased him, as I cuffed his wrists.

He laughed a little shakily.

In fact he had a little more movement with his arms. I had asked the owner to set it up so Mike could almost, but not quite reach his cock.

Ohhh, how frustrating.

I worked Mike hard that night.

Edging him with fingers, mouth, and hands.

Using our entire collection of butt plugs (clean as they were, we didn’t feel comfortable using the ones provided here!) to move him up through the sizes.

His balls being steadily compressed and stretched by our umbrella device.

Plus hours and hours of worshipping his throbbing, straining, gorgeous cock.

Ever seen a grown man cry?

Sadly I didn’t film it, so I can’t show you, but I can guarantee, you won’t find anything that Hot online.

As you know, Mike is a lot younger than me and very fit, so I didn’t feel any guilt at all in making him suffer for three hours, before I finally slipped into my strap-on and pushed inside him, while still fisting his cock.

We were both pretty shocked when one of the wrist cuffs broke. In fact, I was relieved he didn’t turn green and tear up the entire building.

I was so impressed (He’s pretty slender, you wouldn’t imagine he was that strong), that I let him stroke himself to his first (finally!) Orgasm, now that he had a hand Free to reach.

Then I got a new cuff, retied him and started again.

Revenge is sweet.

-X

Winter came with a vengeance and two of our planned meetings were cancelled due to unusually difficult weather.

Then another due to illness.

Flu. Sucks.

Then another due to work.

We had gone through periods of not meeting before. It’s not like we live close, and Mike had dated a couple of times as well.

However, somehow four months has passed; Mike was not his normal filthy self, and I hadn’t been able to draw him into any naughty game planning.

As I drove back into his area for a series of meetings and to see him, I was concerned.

He needed to talk to me.

About what?

If he was dating, he would have just told me, and it had never stopped us meeting as friends.

Was he ill?

The cabin was in use, so I was Air B&Bing it, a little further up the coast.

Nervously awaiting Mike’s arrival and trying to not imagine the worst.

Then the knock came, and I almost wished he hadn’t arrived yet.

I took a deep breath and opened the door.

Mike stood there. He looked exactly the same. Cute, fit, slender.

Nervous.

“Hey,” I grinned, “Come in.”

He walked in, keeping his hands in his pockets. A little jittery.

This was awkward.

We were never awkward. It reminded me of the first time we met.

We both started to talk at once, then stopped, then laughed.

Mike waved a hand at me, “You, Em, you go first.”

“Are you ill?”

“What?”

“Are you sick? You said you needed to talk to me, are you ill?” I asked.

“No, God no, I’m fine,” seeing how worried I was Mike came close and rubbed my arms in comfort, “No, I’m not sick. I’m seeing someone, Em.”

“Oh you dick,” I slapped his arm, “You scared me, I thought it was something terrible. If you’re dating, why not just say so?”

“It’s not dating, Em.”

I turned back and looked at him.

Then I grabbed his hand and walked him back to the door where the light was brighter.

I looked at him closer, so hard that he started to blush.

“Oh my God!”

“Em, stop it.”

“You’re in Love.”

The blush deepened, and Mike squirmed delightfully.

I stepped back, “Tell me,” I said.

He took a deep breath. “Her name’s Pinky. She just moved back to the area about six months ago. She’s a nurse. She’s amazing. She’s been in Canada living with her Aunt and Uncle, but they died, and her parents were already gone so she came home. She’s so brave. I think she’s the strongest person I’ve ever met, and she’s fucking fascinating.”

This came out almost desperately. He stopped and watched me cautiously.

“Pinky?” I asked.

He laughed a little, “It’s not even a nickname. She really is called Pinky.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, “She had better not be my age!”

“Ha!” Mike laughed properly this time, “No, she’s a couple of years younger than me.”

I folded my arms, “Does she know about me?”

“Yep.”

“What have you told her?”

“She knows it all Em, well, most. She wants to meet you,” he suddenly looked about fifteen years old.

“Will you,” he asked quietly, “Will you meet her?”

“Damn straight I will,” I confirmed, “how the hell else am I going to know if she’s good enough for you? Set it up.”

“She’s waiting down on the beach. Owwww!” Mike yelled when I slapped his arm again.

“Why didn’t you say so? Let’s go, Oh, wait,” I turned back and pulled Mike into a hug.

He let out a big sigh and swayed me a little, holding me tight enough to crack a rib or two.

“Hi Mike.”

“Hi Emily. Are you mad at me?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” I declared, grabbing my jacket.

Mike told me a little more as we headed down to the beach.

He was clearly besotted, and I was really nervous.

When Mike helped me down the last steep step, and I turned and saw the little pixie-like creature, with a shoulder length neat bob (dark, red absolutely beautiful hair, not pink at all, which I half expected), and a half excited, half scared expression which I suspected matched my own; I was relieved.

Pinky was adorable. Mike helped her down from where she was perched on a rock and she bounced straight over to me, stopping and with wide eyes, “Do you hate me, please don’t hate me. I want us to be friends.”

I was immediately drawn to her energy, plus Mike looked very uncomfortable, so I gave in and out him out of his misery.

After all, it wasn’t really any of my business who Mike got involved with, but I had a good feeling about this one, and what Mike had told me in the ten-minute walk down to the beach made it clear she really was a strong, caring person.

“I never hate on first acquaintance,” I told her, and she grinned, reading me well.

“There’s a café along the beach, they do great cappuccino,” Pinky told me, and I agreed. We walked to the café, ignoring Mike’s gagging noises.

By the time we were settled, the three of us were chatting freely.

I liberated a couple of painkillers as we were talking, and Mike frowned as he watched me swallow them.

“What’s wrong?”

“Just stiff, a headache,” I said, “gets a bit achy after the drive.”

Before I registered what he was up to, Mike had moved behind me, pulled my band out, releasing my ponytail and slipped his hands into my hair.

My “Whoa, what?” turned to “Ahhh,” as his strong fingers swept over my skull.

Still I do have some self-control.

“Mike, stop,” I said, reaching up and gripping his wrists, “What are you doing?”

His hands came to rest on my shoulders, “You said your head hurt,” he said in a confused voice.

“Mike, you’re a sweetheart, but do you really think it’s appropriate?” I asked, indicating Pinky, who was sat smirking at us.

“But this was never about Sex with us?” Mike said completely bewildered.

We both looked at Pinky for help.

“For the record Emily, I think head rubs are probably the best thing you taught Mike, and I don’t have an issue with him doing that at all. Like he said, I know that wasn’t a part of your games.”

“Just how much have you told her,” I asked Mike out of the corner of my mouth, making Pinky laugh.

“Pretty much everything,” he admitted, and I groaned.

“But” Pinky continued, looking at Mike, “Emily is right, it would be polite to check with your current girlfriend before putting your hands on your ex-lover, especially right in front of her.”

“Ex-Lover?” Mike exclaimed, his hands briefly gripping my shoulders in shock.

I tipped my head back to look up at him, the back of my head resting against his hard stomach, “Yes Mike, you’re one of my best friends and I Love you, I always will. Which means having Sex made us lovers.”

I tipped my head back up and looked at Pinky, who was shaking with laughter now, “Obviously he was just using me all this time as a fuck buddy and for my imagination,” I laughed, “I doubt he was in it for a body nearly twenty-years older than his!”

“Oh I don’t know,” Pinky said, “He seems pretty keen to get his hands on your hair again. You can continue with the head rub by the way,” she added, waving her hand at Mike.

“Yes, please do,” I said, tipping my head back again, and laughing as Mike’s hands came around my throat instead.

“You two are ganging up on me now?” he asked, giving me a mock shake.

“Welcome to your future,” I grinned.

He laughed and returned to my massage, as Pinky and I continued to tease him.

My headache was pretty much gone by the time he finished, handed me my hairband, kissed the top of my head, and mumbled, “And I do Love you, you idiot.”

I grinned as I fixed my ponytail and watched Pinky pull Mike across for a kiss as he sat back down.

“He’s the best,” Pinky said.

“I did only minimal preparation. His training is now in your hands,” I told her in a solemn tone.

“Beach,” Mike declared loudly, firmly changing the subject and herding us both back down to the sand.

Walking back, we left Mike behind us as he went off to poke at something gross on the tide line (take a boy to the beach, what can ya do?!) and I took the opportunity to make sure that Pinky really was comfortable with me.

She was adamant that she wanted me in Mike’s life, because of everything that he had told her had made it clear our friendship was important to him.

That was kind of emotional really, and then Pinky admitted that she hoped we would also be friends because at the moment all she really had was Mike.

Sometimes you meet someone and have an instant connection and it was clear that had just happened to us. If I had never known Mike, and Pinky and I had met on a plane the same thing would have happened.

Being girls the conversation become a little overly emotional at that point, so we had to hug it out.

Mike wandered over, eyeing us, “So this is really Hot right now. Are you two planning on doing that a lot?”

Really, we had no choice but to bury him in the sand for that stinky comment.

-X

Three months later I got the call from Mike telling me they were engaged.

I think he regretted making that call, as he needed to regrow his eardrum after I screamed down the phone.

“I never realized you were such a girl,” he complained, “I think Pinky’s a bad influence on you.”

Two months after that I was surprised to open my door at a knock and find Pinky standing there.

Turned out she had been at a conference about an hour away and it finished early, so she decided to come and see me.

“Does Mike know where you are?” I asked, as I put the kettle on.

“No,” she said, “I didn’t know if you would be here and if you weren’t, I would have been home when he expected anyway.”

“Mint tea?” I asked, she nodded.

“So have you lost my number?” I asked as I placed the mug in front of her.

She shook her head.

I sat down next to her, “Pinky, is something wrong?”

She took a deep breath, “Will you be my best woman at the wedding?”

“Wow!”

“Will you?”

“I would be honored Pinky, but you know a lot of Mike’s friends know or suspect we had something going on.”

“I don’t care.”

“Yes, but what if they think we still do?” I asked carefully.

“I don’t care. Neither does Mike. It’s no one’s business, they can think what they like.”

I sipped and looked at her, “Who is the best man?”

“K- of course,” she frowned when I laughed, “I thought you liked him, you got on well enough at our engagement celebration. Emily why are you blushing?”

I waved my hand in front of my face and laughed harder as I saw the penny drop.

“Oh my God, you and K-?”

“Did Mike not tell you?” I asked, regaining some control.

“Mike knows!”

“K- took part in a few of our games,” I admitted, “he got it out of his system pretty quick.”

“No way!” she laughed, “but K’s so sweet, and, well he’s kind of square.”

“Yea,” I grinned, “it was fun though.”

“He’s really cute as well,” Pinky said, and we both sat for a moment in homage to K’s cuteness.

“So,” Pinky said, breaking out of it, “Does that means the best man and best woman won’t work?” she asked sadly.

“Oh it’ll be fine,” I said, “We will just blush at each other for half an hour and then get over it. We get on really well.”

“Yay!” she clapped her hands.

“K’s Wife doesn’t know about it though. So you need to keep it to yourself, that’s probably why Mike didn’t say anything. Obviously, it was before K- met her.”

“Of course, he’s such a sweetheart,” she agreed, “Mind you, they do say you should watch the quiet ones!”

In the end we called Mike and as it was Friday night, invited him to throw some clothes in a bag and join us the next day for the weekend.

He wanted to drive down that night, but it was already getting late and we didn’t want him driving all that way when tired. So we told him we were having a chick-flick and musicals movie night and he quickly decided that driving down the next morning made more sense.

The wedding was beautiful.

Small and intimate. Pinky looked radiant and simply glowed, charming everyone around her. She was still a little shy with some of Mike’s friends but had become quite close to Mike’s Sister which was nice.

Mike looked devastatingly handsome, and I recognized a sense of almost maternal pride, which took me a little by surprise. Then I realized it was probably for the best and let it settle in. Mike picked up on it as well and was amused.

“I should probably start calling you Aunt Em,” he joked, then swore when I pinched his Ass.

I danced with K-, and Mike. Mike’s dad (three times, he’s a really good dancer!), the priest, one of Mike’s neighbours, and just out of pure wickedness on both our parts, Pinky.

Life goes on.

It was six months after the wedding, and I was in Barcelona on business.

Walking along the beach during an afternoon off, when Mike called and said possibly the most beautiful words that I had ever heard him say.

“I’m gonna be a dad. Pinky’s pregnant.”

His voice was low, almost husky, but there was no mistaking the excitement, and wonder, and fear.

“You’re going to be an amazing dad,” I told him.

“Really?” he asked, fear winning out.

“Yes,” I managed.

“Em, are you crying?”

“Maybe!”

“Why? Jesus!”

“Because I’m happy, and because I’m a girl.”

“I always forget that.”

“Dick head.”

He laughed, “When can you come?”

“A couple of weeks, I’ll come see you in a couple of weeks.”

We discussed Pinky’s health and the joys of morning sickness, which Mike had been surprised to find she was experiencing in the evenings. I pointed out that woman are not robots.

Then I wandered for a while thinking.

It was amazing news, and I was thrilled, but also a little melancholy.

I roamed up Las Ramblas and then off into a quiet square, where I sat with a coffee and let myself settle, let my mind wander.

I had been busy with work and travelling the past few months, but I was starting to feel a need for something more.

I sighed, and then jumped as my world suddenly went dark.