Buying Her Flower

Epilogue

Andrew

Sheila and I have been happily married for the past two years. I couldn’t be more happy with the way our life together has turned out. Not only do we have a successful marriage, but we have also managed to create successful tech/florist empires out of both of our businesses.

Aside from that, I think the best thing to happen in our marriage is the birth of our child. I’m just putting the baby down to sleep for the night. After 6 long months, our baby is finally sleeping through the night.

I watch our baby sleep for a few minutes and I think how amazing life has been these past two years. I tiptoe quietly out of the room so I don’t wake up the baby. I look for Sheila and see that she is in our bed, reading.

“How did it go?” she asks, when I walk in.

“Sound asleep,” I reply.

“You’re a great dad!” she says.

I climb into bed beside her.

“Now we can finally stop and smell the roses,” I tease her.

She laughs softly and goes back to reading. I lay there and watch her. To me she seems to get more beautiful each day. After awhile, I pick up my book and start reading as well.

It was Sheila who got me started on it. She fell in love with the bookstore in California so now we always go there and buy books together. It’s nice to have someone to enjoy these things with.

After about an hour or so, I get up and peek in on the baby. After I make sure the baby is still sleeping okay, I go back to the room and grab Sheila by the hand.

“Where are we going?” she asks.

“I have a surprise for you,” I reply.

I lead her down the hall to our guest bedroom. I open the door and she gasps in surprise.

The room is aglow with candlelight, the bed is covered with rose petals. On the dresser is a bottle of champagne and two glasses.

“What is all this for?” she asks as I hand her a glass of champagne.

“Well, after so many worried newborn nights I thought we deserved an opportunity to celebrate each other,” I explain.

We toast quietly and sip our champagne.

“The roses?” she asks.

“Are from your store and are to thank you for being my wife and the mother of my child,” I say.

She looks like she wants to cry from happiness. I take our glasses and put them back on the dresser.

“I also want to celebrate the memory of our first night together by making gentle love to you,” I say.

“Oh, Andrew!” she sighs, before she starts kissing me.

I pull her to the bed of roses. I lay her down and start kissing her all over her mouth, neck and breasts. I can see her nipples harden through the thin material of her silk nightgown and that turns me on even more.

I stick my fingers inside her panties and lightly massage her clit. I can feel her shiver at my touch. We try not to moan to loud so we don’t wake up the baby. As I continue to finger her clit I can feel her juices start to drip.

“Are you ready for me?” I ask.

“Oh yes,” she whispers.

I pull down my pants and slide into her wet pussy. She feels incredible. I’m remembering our first night together, but I think she feels even better now. Her body hasn’t lost any of its beauty or curvaceousness.

If anything, she has improved with age. Just like that night, I can see her hands clenching in the rose petals. I know she is close to cumming and so am I.

“Ooohhh, Andrew!” she whispers, and I feel her whole body tighten as she cums.

The feeling of happiness and the knowledge that I always leave her feeling happy and satisfied makes me cum as well. We spend a few moments just lying in each other’s arms.

“We really do have true happiness,” I whisper, repeating her words to me from our honeymoon.

She turns over and kisses me in response.

“I wouldn’t change anything about how we met,” she says.

“Neither would I,” I say, agreeing with her.

As we lie there, I can feel her happiness. I’m happy, too. I have been ever since I met her. The years together have changed us both for the better.

I look over and see that she is asleep. I quietly get up and gently cover her. She deserves the rest. I check on the baby once more and decide to do a little work. I’m still involved in both of our businesses but not as much as I used to be. These days I usually work from home but only two days a week when necessary. A voice in the doorway to our home office startles me.

“Old habits die hard,” Sheila teases as she stands there.