Winter’s Tale

“Mom! We’re here!” Samantha yelled through the back door. The young woman stepped inside and snow showered off of her to the floor of the coat room. Behind her, a shambling pile of presents, also covered in snow, waited patiently for room to enter.

An older, slightly more plump version of Samantha rounded the corner and threw open her arms, “Merry Christmas!” Samantha hung up her scarf and went to meet her mother’s hug.

From behind the moving stack of presents came a muffled, “Merry Christmas, Ellen.”

“Luke, what are you two doing with all that? We all agreed, no presents this year. Come in, come in. Oh, boots off please. Samantha, I love your hair. Go on in! The fire is going.” The older woman helped Luke off with his boots and coat while the young man did a balancing act with the stack of brightly papered presents. Finally, somewhat clear of his trappings, he bent at the knee and kissed his mother-in-law on the cheek. She grinned at him and muttered another “Merry Christmas” before shooing him down the hall.

Luke moved further into the old, and often confusing, Oswalt house. The first time he visited with Samantha, he’d gotten lost three times. Samantha told him that, originally, the house had been just the main hall and kitchen. The Oswalt family added everything else on over the years. A second floor for bedrooms, a library, several other studies; on the ground floor, a wine cellar, a larger kitchen, a grander hall — all of it stacked one thing on or beside the next with no real attention to order or logic. This haphazard design resulted in a brilliantly large house sitting on a massive estate, but with a floor plan that looked like an Escher painting. Even with several years of practice under his belt, Luke could still get lost on his way to the bathroom and not find his way back until several hours later.

This was made less of an inconvenience by the dozens of other siblings, cousins, friends, neighbors, and new acquaintances who frequented the Oswalt’s Christmas parties. Merrymakers filled each room, usually surrounding one of the many bars. They separated out into social stratum of some type, but as an outsider Luke had a hard time distinguishing the differences. As he wandered around the various rooms, he would see large groups of young people or old people. In one room the wine aficionados would gather, their conversations nasally and their backs stiff, while another room would host the specter of cigar smokers, grim silhouettes behind a haze of smog and raspy laughter.

No matter where in the house, the spirit of Christmas pervaded everything. The Oswalts somehow managed to decorate the entire manor in holly and tinsel. An entire industry would crop up around the holiday just because of the Oswalts. They would buy dozens of trees and thousands of strands of lights. Food would be ordered special from all around the world. Service would be required, and the Oswalts paid well for working during the holidays. They also never hired the same people two years in a row, insisting that one year’s employee attend the following year as a guest.

The Oswalts were loved and respected for miles around. Julian Oswalt, Jr. presided over their lands and holdings like a benevolent king. His wife, Ellen, would never be suspected of being worth a vast fortune. They were plain and happy people who lived relatively humble lives on the edge of nowhere surrounded by a family so extensive that no one in town could be considered a true stranger.

The Oswalts had many children, just as Julian had many siblings. Samantha, the youngest, moved south for college and met Luke. It happened on a rainy day. Luke attempted to open an umbrella just as Samantha happened to walk by. The umbrella’s spring suddenly moved, and the canopy shot open in Samantha’s face, sending her sprawling into a puddle. Luke helped her up as both of them suppressed giggles. Luke apologized, and Samantha tried to blame herself for being distracted. Luke thought she was pretty, and Samantha thought him charming.

They dated for two years before Luke found out who her parents were. She never exactly hid it from him or from anyone, but somehow it never got mentioned either. The Oswalts did not enjoy the prestige and recognition of a Buffett or Gates, and nothing about Samantha would indicate her family’s wealth. Luke learned quickly that though the Oswalts were rich beyond his wildest dreams, they lived normal mundane lives. It relieved him to meet her parents and see they weren’t eccentric or auspicious. Her mother seemed like his mother and her father, though distinguished when he chose to be, blended into the background of life. They wore ugly sweaters and spent time puttering through dull hobbies like knitting or woodworking. Luke enjoyed them both, immensely.

Luke and Samantha married at the Oswalt home two years after they finished college. Both were still in school, but neither wanted to wait any longer. Luke was finishing a master’s degree in history as Samantha worked on an MBA. The wedding marked the first time Luke saw the true opulence and grandeur of which the Oswalt’s were capable. The scope of the affair would have frightened him if it had not been for Samantha. She never looked more beautiful, or so he thought. But he thought that the next day and the day after that. For his wedding day, though, his mind swam with love and affection, so the party became a quiet backdrop for the worship of his beautiful bride. They were both happy and surrounded by happiness.

On his way into the Christmas party, still carrying armfuls of presents, Luke noticed their wedding picture hanging at the end of a long row of wedding pictures. The younger Luke smiled broadly out at him, and Luke wondered what that version of himself would think if he could actually see what would become of them. Luke was thirty-four, ten years the senior of his wedding day self, and he felt every day of it in the weight of his bones and the color of his hair. He carried on into the warm light, and a roar of noise greeted him.

“Samantha!” called out her father. The broad shouldered man cut a swath through the crowd to greet them. He picked up his daughter as easily as if she were still a girl of ten and swung her around into a big hug. “And Luke! Good to see you! Jonathan, Luke’s brought presents, put them under the tree!”

“Which one?”

“The big one of course! What could my little girl have brought that would be more precious than her shining smile at Christmas!”

Samantha blushed and lightly kissed her father’s cheek. “It’s nice to see you too, Daddy. I’m going to go find everyone, and say hello.”

Luke spoke a bit too softly at first and awkwardly raised his voice mid sentence, “Should I….should I come with you!?” A few nearby patrons glanced over at him, but the question was lost in the din of music and conversation.

Samantha gave him a stern look, “No. Go find the husbands and mill about with them. I’ll find you later.”

She patted her father’s arm and then disappeared into the crowd. Julian turned to Luke, “Still on about it then, I see.”

“Sorry, what’s that?” Luke said, unconvincingly.

Julian placed his hand on Luke’s back and gently guided him over to a corner sofa. Luke had never moved about one of the parties with Julian before. It was like crossing a river with Moses. A pair of teenagers skulked on the couch, their noses buried in their phones. Julian grumbled at them, warning them to go have a good time or he’d have them dressed up like elves and sent round to carol to the great aunts and great uncles. They scurried away without objection. He settled himself down, and immediately a server appeared with a tray of drinks. Julian grabbed two and waved off the festively dressed waiter. He shoved one towards Luke, “Here, drink this it’ll warm you up.”

Julian took a long drink and finished with a smack of his lips and a loud, “Ahhhhhhh. As good as it ever was.” Luke sipped at his cocktail, surprised at the strength of it. “Now then, you and Samantha, how are things?”

Luke took another longer sip, pleased by the burning sensation flowing down his throat. “We’re good. The drive was pretty easy this time. The roads were clear.”

“To the point, son,” Julian said, his large eyes kind, but forceful.

“She’s busy. I mean, we’re both busy. Work keeps us moving quite a bit. I’m always up late grading papers, and she’s usually towards midnight getting in from the office.”

Julian rubbed his chin, his fingers rolling bits of his beard between them. “She’s a hard hearted one, that girl. She gets it from me. I worked more when I was younger. I didn’t understand it at the time, why my father spent all his hours hunting or fishing. An empire to run and he was reckless to leave it to its own. Or that’s what I thought. Then I saw what a life based on family meant. I raised six sons and one daughter, and I was happier for each one of them. Six daughters-in-law preceded you, but there you came, happy just to be with my daughter. I never thought I could be so lucky to find a seventh son. Have you separated yet?”

Luke looked down into his drink. It was empty. “Not yet, no,” he admitted, a solemn tone in his voice. “She wanted to wait until after the holidays.” The crowd got louder with singing and dancing. The smell of food intensified, and a waiter appeared to refresh their drinks. Julian went silent for a while, and Luke could feel the older man’s eyes on him. Stealing a glance at his father-in-law, he could see a man absorbed in thought, his brow betraying some long conflict.

Julian finally spoke, “Money is a terrible thing. Lack it, and there’s not much you won’t do to get it. Spend your life with it, and you start to forget it’s even there. Lose it, and you will sacrifice everything to get it back. Pride gets in the way. Greed can creep in when you’re not looking. We call it a thousand different names because we don’t want to call it what it is.”

“What’s that?” Luke asked.

Julian sighed and waved away the thought, “You can’t force people to be happy. You have to let them discover happiness on their won. When Samantha was younger, these parties made her so happy. It’s simple. Friends, family, food, drink, and song. A bright fire inside while a quiet snow piles up around us. You can appreciate these things if you are calm and quiet, but the world out there pulls you back. Money and power and politics — all of it stripping away your happiness until you're left with a bare, flayed sadness. I don’t want that for my daughter, nor for you.”

Luke averted his eyes. Julian was always fatherly to him, but they’d spent less and less time together in the past few years. They’d done their best to put up a good front, but the old man seemed to be able to read the lines in his face and hear the late night arguments. Luke was content to be at home with his wife, but Samantha wanted more. She’d grown successful quickly, independent of her family’s wealth. With each dollar, she resented Luke more because he was already happy. With each acquisition, she rued her parents for being so pleased with a farmhouse in the middle of nowhere. A pit formed at the center of her and into it she poured all her resentment, her possessions, and her memories of happiness.

Luke knew the moment when she finally had enough of him. They were having a dinner party at their Manhattan apartment. A senator attended along with other dignitaries and social elite. The party represented the crowning achievement of all her endeavors for the year, and she wanted to sit at the head of the table, surrounded by these people of influence, and feel important. She did, and it did not make her happy. Instead, she looked at the other end of the table where her husband chatted casually with the senator. They discussed a biography of Rommel, and Luke enjoyed himself. He wasn’t elated or thrilled, but the pleasant conversation satisfied him. It came so easily to him, and she hated it. She asked for the separation at the end of that night and slept in the guest bedroom.

Julian nodded along as Luke told him the story. At the end of his tale, Julian’s strong hand slapped him on the back. “I shouldn’t have let it go on this far.”

“I’m not sure what you could have done to help,” Luke replied. “It’s nice of you to talk with me about it, but ultimately it’s our marriage to figure out.”

Julian sat up straight, and he lowered his voice slightly, “What if there were another way? What if there were a method of creating happiness?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

Julian leaned in a bit closer, “Look, I think of you as my own. You’re a good kid and have done right by my daughter. Far as I can tell, I do have seven sons and not six. The Oswalt family is...blessed.” He cringed at the word. “Have you wondered why we have such a large family?”

Luke considered the question. Samantha had six brothers, each of whom had at least three children. The eldest two had seven children each. The middle three sons had less than seven but more than three a piece, with two having pregnant wives. The youngest son, who was three years older than Samantha, had two, twins born six months before. It had seemed unusual until Luke grew accustomed to it. Luke knew that people who grew up in large families tended to have large families of their own. Samantha didn’t want children at all. Luke remained ambivalent on the subject. With this in mind he responded, “No, not really. Thought we were the odd pair.”

Julian frowned, “Well, it’s not a coincidence. It’s just that, she’s my daughter. When Tim brought around Gwen, I hesitated to tell him as well. We liked Gwen and I’d….I went through it with Ellen.” He fumbled for words, clearly uncomfortable. Grabbing up his drink, he swallowed it down in a long gulp. “I just don’t want you to think I take this lightly. I know what he does and how it works. Not something I’d wish on my own daughter or any man’s daughter, but I wager my father had the same struggle about Ellen, just as his father struggled about my mother.”

Luke was confused, “I’m sorry. I’m not sure what we’re talking about any more.”

Julian grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him face to face. “She’s your lawful wife, married. Do you love her and want to take care of her and make her happy?”

The old man’s strength always surprised him, “Yes, of course.”

“Nothing else for it then,” Julian said. With a grim determination, he stood up and waded off into the party. Luke stared after him, dumbfounded.

While Luke and Julian spoke on one side of the room, Samantha had a similar conversation with her mother on the other side of the house. Samantha did the lion’s share of talking while Ellen nodded along. She was relating a story about how she’d fired several people when her father appeared beside them.

“Something wrong?” Ellen asked, surveying her husband’s face. “Oh, so you’ve decided then. Took you long enough.” She turned to her daughter and took her hand, “It can be frightening at first, like you’re losing who you are. But, it’s like cleaning the tarnish off of silver. All the stains get taken away, and you’re left with who you’re supposed to be. Try not to fight it.” Ellen Oswalt leaned over and kissed her daughter on the cheek. Then without another glance, she swept off into the party as if the conversation never happened. The shadow of her father loomed over Samantha’s confusion.

“Let’s go. There’s someone you need to meet.”

Samantha bristled at being ordered around by her father. She intended to only stay for a short while, lord her success over her brothers and let her mother know that she was moving on from Luke. She didn’t have time for her father’s long winded talks. Nevertheless, it would be easier to talk to him somewhere more quiet. The party had been going for a few hours before they arrived, and many of the patrons already held their fifth or sixth drink. Samantha smiled politely and rose to follow.

Julian led her deep into the house. They moved quickly past all the additions, bedrooms, and extra kitchens that piled up over the years. They crossed the wide snowy garden that Julian’s father enclosed at the center of the house and into the north wing. Samantha vaguely recalled exploring these older halls as a girl, fascinated by the idea of lost treasures. She found nothing but old dresses and faded pictures, but they were marvelous at the time. For the most part, these areas of the manor were unused now, only swept and cleaned by long term staff. Finally, they passed over a break in the wall which Samantha knew as the line between the house and the “old house.” They were a hundred yards and a dozen corners from the party, leaving behind the revelry for an eerie calm. With the calm came a creeping feeling of dread.

Julian finally broke his silence. He spoke in a hushed tone, but still strong and assured. “Long ago, my father’s great grandfather, Michael Oswalt, lived in this house. That would be your great-great-great grandfather. You are the youngest of the sixth generation of Oswalts to live in this house. It started here in this one room shack.” They entered a small, dark room. Julian did not turn on a light switch, but instead found a small half burned candle and a box of matches. In short work, a flickering light that managed to illuminate the whole room. In the light, Samantha could see that the room looked as one might expect to see in a period piece recreation of the old west. Samantha never found this room in her childhood explorations. Soot from the fireplace stained the walls. Her father moved to a small wooden table and gestured for her to take the other chair. A cot lined the far wall and an old rocking chair sat beside the fireplace. Samantha wanted very much to go back to the party, but her father’s grave face kept her silent.

Julian slid his chair closer to the table, the candlelight dancing across his face. “They were poor, back then. These walls were thin and winters here are cold. Outside, wolves and strangers waited, hungry and desperate. The first winter took the lives of Michael’s first and second son. His wife wanted to go back east, but Michael knew they wouldn’t survive the journey.”

“They were religious. Very religious.” Julian said. “Michael had plans to build a church and to bring others in the region together, despite being so far apart. But hunger can make an atheist call out to God, and a devout man call out for anyone else.” Wind flickered through the room, chilling Samantha. The light changed. Her father looked small and pale. For the first time in her whole life, she thought he looked his age. But worse than that, he looked frightened, and his fear was infectious.

“A storm came, a blizzard from the northwest. Michael and his wife took shelter inside, but Michael needed to go out to the old barn from time to time and check on the livestock. After midnight, he went out to the barn one last time before morning and saw a shadow on the edge of the wood. I know this because he kept a diary. He wrote that as soon as he noticed that shadow, he knew unequivocally that it had been in that spot since the storm began. It watched him each time he walked from the house to the barn and back. Watched him and didn’t move. Michael ran back to this house and locked the door behind him, hoping that by dawn the thing would be gone.”

Julian rubbed his arms. The warmth of alcohol faded away as he told his story. “Some time passed before the knock at the door came. Michael’s wife wanted to wait, for the thing to go away or die in the storm. Michael couldn’t doom any creature to that fate. He opened the door and met a man.” Julian looked around the room and huddled closer to his daughter as if they could be overheard. “A tall and thin man, with beetle black eyes. He wore a suit with no coat or covering. The man stood as still as stone as a blizzard whipped around him. The man asked if he could come in and warm himself by the fire.”

“Now this is the story as it was told to me,” Julian reiterated. “It sounds outlandish, but I know it to be true.” Samantha watched her father with wide eyes, locked in place by the chill. Thoughts of her work and thoughts of her marriage were back at the party, a thousand miles and a hundred years away. Her father carried on, “The man introduced himself as Thaddeus, took a seat in that chair by the fire, and waited. Eventually Michael spoke, and this is what they said:

‘I know what you are,’ said Michael. ‘I should not have let you in.’

‘The night is still long. You are cold and you are hungry. This fire will burn until morning, but you will freeze before dawn,’ said Thaddeus. ‘I intended to watch from the forest, but you caught my eye. So here I am. You do not know what I am.’

‘But can you save us?’ Michael asked.

‘Of course. Why else would I have come? I will give you warmth and food and prosperity. I will give you the whole land around you. I will raise you up to a king. Your name can live on in a dozen children and four dozen grandchildren.’

‘And what would I give to you?’ Michael asked warily.

Here Thaddeus produced a book, ‘You will give me your name. Write it here in this book.’

‘Am I selling my soul?’

‘No. I have little use for souls. You’re selling your name. Names have a great use to me and very little to you. You have a bright future, and I’d like to have your name. For this, your table will be full, your home will be warm, and your wife will be fertile. Or freeze.’”

Julian went silent. Finally, Samantha asked, “So then what?”

Julian shrugged. “Then Michael signed the book. He prospered and had many children. Each of those children signed the book. They in turn brought their children and so on through the years.”

“What does it mean to sell your name?” Samantha asked.

Julian grumbled. “Your grandfather spent half his life trying to find the answer to that question. Best as he could tell it means you’re bound to whatever fate Thaddeus chooses. We Oswalts always start to get strange when we stray too far from our customs, or too far from th is place. Perhaps this is what we’re bound to. Or maybe the devil lied, and Michael did sell his soul. But, if that’s the case, then you don’t find out until you die, lacking the chance to warn others. For my part, I haven’t thought much on it. I don’t know if Thaddeus is evil. He may just be reckless.”

“You’re saying he’s real,” Samantha said. “Look, Dad, it’s a nice story, and I’m sure you could tell it to the children and they would look over their shoulders for weeks, but you don’t really expect me to believe it.”

Julian sighed, “No, none of us ever do. That’s why we have to be shown.”

Julian stood up and walked toward the fireplace. As he did, a bright fire crackled to life, and Samantha screamed in fright. In the rocking chair sat Thaddeus, his eyes black and his fingers pale and cruel. He did not look at either of them, but stared into the fire and nodded his head as if he could hear music. As Julian approached, Thaddeus quickly flicked his hand into his breast pocket and produced a small tattered book. Without moving his head, the creature handed the book to Julian who carried it back to the table. Her father placed it before her and turned to the first page with a blank spot on it.

Samantha peered at the book. It held the names of her brothers and cousins, one after the other. Beside each name someone had written another word in a language she did not know. In the spine of the book was a fountain pen. Julian took it out and offered it to her.

“Signing the book changes you. Changes what’s important to you. I’ve seen it happen again and again, once to myself, once to each of my brothers and sisters, and once to all of my sons. Your brothers struggled to understand the outside world. Even when they succeeded, they were frustrated and angry all the time. When they signed, their worlds made sense again. You’ve seen them now. They’re all ecstatic. Maybe the result is different for everyone, but I know what it did to your mother. We were happy though. You and Luke would be happy. too. The choice is yours. You can have your career and fancy dinners and all that worldly power, or you can have your family. Sign or don’t sign.”

Samantha looked at the shadowed figure by the fire. The stranger seemed so uninterested in their conversation, as if this were the most normal thing in the world. A part of her wanted to blow out the candle and leave her foolish father in the dark with his ghosts and superstitions. But then she remembered her wedding day. She remembered the pit inside her that grew each day. She knew she wanted that to stop.

She took the pen. Thaddeus smiled.

Luke stood beside a piano drumming his fingers along to the music. A strange feeling started in his gut. At first, he thought of the alcohol, but he wasn’t dizzy or lightheaded. Quite the opposite, he felt awake and alert. The dullness of the world receded, making everything more rich and vibrant. For the first time, he could look around the room and see each and every person instead of just noise and motion. The sight made him choke on his own breath.

The hour was late, and all the children had been sent off to bed or at least to the east wing where they were all housed. Only the adults stayed to finish the party. Luke never had the wandering eye. He had a beautiful wife and not much interest in other women. Now, he surveyed a room of supple flesh and a fresh desire to feast threatened to overwhelm him. Lisa, one of his sisters-in-law, danced nearby. He had known her for years, and never once had she been anything more than a demurely dressed and somewhat tired looking mother of four. All that had changed Lisa’s hair fell down around her shoulders, auburn and shining. Her low cut dress showed off her breasts as they heaved up and down. Luke watched her form undulating in rhythm to the sourceless music. She smiled with bright eyes at her husband, and Luke was shocked to see that he too was a changed man. Jeremy was usually a gray eyed, soft spoken man who would talk entirely too much about model trains. Instead a tall, broad shouldered man with a firm jaw and dark eye loomed over his wife, his hands pulling and pressing against her body as they danced. If Luke had not known it to be them, he would have never recognized them.

The same thing applied to every couple and person in the room. Luke thought he had wandered into a dream. Not only did everyone suddenly exude a vitality and vigor, he could smell them. The scent of sweat on skin filled his lungs, and it was wonderful. His own body continued to feel strange as well, younger and lighter. It took him a while to pinpoint exactly what he wanted, but the second he saw Samantha enter the room, he knew.

Samantha moved through the crowd quickly, snaking through the dancing couples like a rivulet of water down a pane of glass. Luke began pushing through towards her as well. He wanted her, more than he’d wanted anything in decades. She never broke stride as she reached him. Grabbing hold of his hand, she pulled him towards the side wall. They stumbled through a door and into a dimly lit hallway. She let herself fall backwards against the wall as Luke pressed into her. They met for a deep, passionate kiss. Her tongue swirled into his mouth as her hands pulled against his back.

“Samantha,” Luke whispered as she started kissing down his neck. “What’s happening to us?”

“Don’t call me that. You...you called me Bunny when we were younger.”

Luke tried to keep thinking straight, but her right hand was rubbing up and down his crotch, his cock rising to the occasion. “You hated that.”

“Not any-fucking-more,” she said as she squeezed his cock. “I’m so wet for you Luke. Do you want to fuck Bunny?”

Luke let out a low groan, “Oh yes please.”

Samantha took his hand once again and pulled him down the hall. They moved quickly, almost in a full run. The first bedroom they found was already occupied. Luke glanced inside and saw a couple he recognized as a third cousin and her husband, though he didn’t know their names. The wife had her husband chained to the bed and danced above him wearing only her thong. Luke strangely desired to stay and watch, and he sensed that the other couple wouldn’t mind. He knew it wasn’t like him, but neither was chasing his wife down like a horny dog.

They continued on to the next room, and it was empty. Luke walked in and shut the door behind them, considered not turning the lock, but decided he didn’t want anything to be interrupted when things were going so well.

“Come on, Luke,” his wife called from the nearby bed. “Bunny wants to feel that cock of yours inside of her.”

Needing no further encouragement, he pounced on her. They kissed and groped and smiled as they writhed against one another. He raised up and took off his shirt. As he tossed it aside, he looked down at his own chest, amazed by the flat stomach and hard abs. Samantha put her small hand against his stomach, feeling it rise and fall as he breathed. Then with eager determination, she grabbed the buckle of his slacks and pulled. After short work, his pants fell to his ankles, and she fished inside of his boxer shorts. Luke let out a satisfied moan as her hand closed on the base of his cock. How long had it been since they’d had sex, he wondered. The thought fled as his wife’s mouth closed around the head of his cock.

Whenever the last time they had fucked had been, Luke knew it had been at least five years since she’d had his cock in her mouth. He forgot how wonderful and intimate it felt. Her tongue slid up and down the length of his shaft as her hand pulled and massaged his balls. Looking down, he watched her beautiful face look up at him and smile as his cock pushed against her cheek. “That feels amazing,” he said in a hoarse whisper.

“Don’t get too excited stud,” Samantha said. “Bunny wants to feel it squirting in my pussy. That’s how we make babies. I want to have your babies.”

Luke was no longer certain that it was actually his wife sucking his dick. Samantha had never once wanted children, not even as a joke. “Honey, you shouldn’t say things like that. I know you’d want to talk about it. Hell, what are we doing? You must be drunk.”

She stopped her work with his cock and stood up to look at him eye to eye. “Not drunk, not high, not anything. This is me. One hundred percent. I’ve been a massive twat to you for so long, but I see now. I’m your Bunny. Bunny wants babies, your babies. But we get to make them first. Bunny wants you to make her pregnant, however long it takes. Bunny wants to fuck.”

Luke didn’t disagree. He helped her pull off her dress. He looked at her body. She had kept herself in shape, but she couldn’t have done this to herself. Samantha’s figure had been accentuated somehow. Her bra barely confined her breasts. Her hips and ass had thickened to the point that her underwear had torn. She pushed Luke down to the bed and straddled him, letting her ass push down his straining cock. Slowly, staring at him as she unclasped her bra, she let her breasts fall into view. Milky white flesh poured forward. Her pink nipples jutted out, hard, and Luke rose up to suck one into his mouth.

Samantha let out a yip of pleasure as he swirled his tongue over her erect nub. His hands rose up to feel her tits, taking the soft flesh and kneading it, sending sparks through Samantha’s body. Luke loved the smell of her, the taste of her skin. His cock ached with anticipation. As he sucked her breast, he pulled her body against his, electrified by the feeling of her skin against his own.

In a quick motion, he flipped her over to her back and lowered himself to her thighs. He lightly kissed her skin as his hands traced nonsensical patterns up and down her legs. Her musk filled his nostrils as his head lingered near her pussy, and he knew he had to taste her. Attempting to pull off her underwear, he realized that it was too tight. With a quick jerk, he ripped the panties entirely, tossing aside the shredded garment and feasting his eyes on her bare pussy.

His arms circled her thighs, and he pulled her to him as his tongue dipped into her soaking wet crevice. Flattening his tongue, he slowly moved up her slit until he reached her clit. He gave it a few quick licks, each one causing Samantha’s body to tremble. Luke started to lick with purpose, repeating the same slow stroke of his tongue over and over again, occasionally changing his rhythm to tease her clit. Her body shook and wriggled with pleasure, her thighs pressing against his ears and her hands running through his hair, pulling him in to her. The more he licked the more desperate she became for the void inside of her to be filled. Maddened with desire, she pushed him away, turned over on the bed and raised her ass to him.

“Time to fuck Bunny,” she cooed at him.

Her presented ass was almost enough to make him cum instantly. Luke stepped forward and took hold of Samantha’s hips, the soft flesh yielding to his touch and her body quivering with anticipation. His cock slid against her, the head grazing past her lips and sliding against her upper pubis as he moved into position. Luke pulled back and angled up slightly, pushing forward until his cock popped inside of her. They each let out a long, satisfied groan as he slid inside. She pushed her ass back against him, smacking against his hard stomach and causing her bubbled butt to jiggle. He pulled out slowly, savoring the feeling of her pussy on each inch of his cock. She mewled in protest.

“What’s the matter Bunny? Can’t get enough of my cock?”

“Bunny likes cock,” she whined. “Give it back to Bunny.”

Luke grabbed hold of her ass roughly and pulled her back against his length again. “Yeah, Bunny likes my cock. This pussy just aches for my cock, but what does Bunny really, really want.” He began thrusting in and out of her, and she grunted with glee. “Do you want my cum? Do you want me to cum inside of you?”

“Yes, yes, oh fuck, yes, cum inside of me. Get me pregnant!”

“You want to get pregnant so you can have a bigger, rounder ass? So you can have fat milk jugs? You want to lay around like a pregnant cow while I come in and fuck you as I please?”

“Oh yes, that’s what Bunny wants! Please! Please give Bunny your cum! Breed me!”

Luke groaned. He felt his cum rushing up his cock. Wave after wave of it gushed forward, filling up the inside of his wife’s pussy until it started to leak out. Samantha writhed and moaned, her hand snaking down to rub her clit as her pussy milked each and every drop from her husband’s cock. He pulled out of her with a wet, sticky sound and collapsed on the bed beside her. She rolled over so that her ass stayed in his crotch, enjoying the feeling of his shrinking cock against her hot flesh.

“What in fuck was that?” Luke asked, breathless.

Samantha smiled, “I understand now. All the others were so happy and I wasn’t. I needed to be Bunny. He takes a name so you find a new one.”

Luke didn’t understand what she was talking about, but he didn’t really care either. His cock was already beginning to rise. Her body was still warm and soft, he hands reached down and started massaging her ass.

“Looks like someone wants to go some more,” Samantha said.

Luke nibbled at her ear, “What does Bunny want for Christmas?”

“Bunny wants to fuck you this time.” His cock swelled, and she climbed on top of him, pinning him to the bed. “Bunny’s going to ride you until that cock of yours is spurting inside of me, and you just get to watch me do it. As fast, or as slowly as I like.” She teased him and slowly sank down onto his cock.

—

The next morning Luke and Samantha met everyone for breakfast. They were cheerful and glad to see each and every member of the Oswalt family. Julian beamed at the pair of them and congratulated them for resolving their differences. They went back to the city, sold their apartment and moved out to the country. Luke kept his job as a professor, but Samantha resigned multiple positions to “retire early”.

In February, she called her mother to announce that she was pregnant. She made the same call five more times in the next eight years. The pregnancies went easily, and her body always reverted back to its fit, nubile form. They raised their children, still visiting the Oswalt family house once a year.

Her eldest son married first and struggled for two years. At Christmas, twenty-five years after her own journey to the old house, she took her son to that same place. There he met a stranger by the fire who offered to buy his name. His mother told him plainly, “It’s a good bargain.”