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Ten years after that first filthy Thanksgiving, the gang is back together once again. The annual celebration has become a F.I.L.T.H. tradition, and no matter what else is going on in their busy, active lives, these eight friends always manage to gather for fried turkey and revelry at Tuck and Esme's house. There's always laughter, enough food to feed half of Michigan, and a euchre tournament that some people take way too seriously *cough* Spence and Evan *cough*.

And this year they’re adding one more surprise element: a wedding. 

Join Tuck and Esme, Colin and Evan, Spence and Maddie, and Jude and Brynn as they gather to celebrate, reminisce, and share the joy of their happily-ever-afters.

 

The F.I.L.T.H. Ever Afters is an epilogue for the F.I.L.T.H. Series, featuring the couples from each of the four books (Stuffed, Starved, Feast, and Treat). It’s short, sweet, sexy and maybe just a little sappy.

COPYRIGHT © 2024 solitary vice publications

I love these characters so much, that from the start I knew I was going to write a sort of "where are they now?" book for them. I wrote this several months prior to release and had to set it aside for other projects, and when I came back to it to get it ready for publishing (editing, polishing, etc.) I was so happy to be back with these couples, in their lives, for just a little while. I hope you are too.

Chapter One

Tuck ignored the phone on the nightstand, and the trio of obnoxious beeps that signaled an incoming text. It was too early in the morning for people to be texting him, and besides, he was busy.

“Aren’t you going to see who that is?” his wife asked breathlessly.

Since his mouth was full of her nipple, he offered a grunt in response.

Esme, his wife of more than a decade and his lover for over half of his life, squirmed under him. “What if it’s important?”

He released her nipple with an exasperated pop. “If it's important they’ll call, not text,” he pointed out and swiveled his hips to grind against her clit. Pleased with her strangled gasp, he bent his head to her breast again. “Besides, I’m busy.”

She moaned when he recaptured her nipple, her pussy clutching at his dick. She was close—or had been, before the phone distracted her. Now she was thinking too much to come.

Thankfully, after two decades of fucking her, he knew just how to shut her brain down again.

Groping in the tangled sheet beside him for the lube, he flipped the lid, then sat back on his haunches. The movement pulled him halfway out of her, and she let out a whine of protest that turned into a squeak of shock when he shot a puddle of the cool gel onto her quivering belly.

“What are you doing?”

She had her hands on her tits, rubbing and plucking at her nipples, the tattoo that covered her right arm from shoulder to fingertips a colorful contrast to her milk-pale skin. But her hazel gaze was too sharp, her voice too clear. Tossing the tube aside, he scooped lube off her stomach with two fingers and slid them between her spread buttocks. “Making you come.”

Amusement, delight, lust—they were all there in her eyes, her smile as she pulled her knees back to give him better access. “You always do.”

He probed her asshole with his lubed-up fingers, watching her expression for any signs of discomfort or unease. The tight ring of muscle gave way easily under the pressure, and her eyes went hazy with pleasure. She spasmed around him—dick and fingers—telling him without words that she wanted more.

He pulled his fingers free, gathered more lube and returned, sliding them deep in a gentle but insistent finger-fuck. She purred with delight, lifting her hips to deepen the contact. “Harder.”

He grinned even as he gritted his teeth. Her pussy was clutching at his dick, trying to suck him back deep. He ignored temptation and pulled his fingers from her ass and his dick from her pussy. 

“That’s the opposite of making me come,” she complained and, hooking her heels around his hips, tried to pull him back in.

Cool air washed over his warm, wet dick, dancing over sensitized flesh like an electrical buzz. He scooped up the rest of the lube from her belly and stroked it over his dick. “Shit, that’s cold.”

“I’m warm,” she reminded him. She let go of her right breast and moved her hand down, through her wild thatch of pubic hair to the pink, wet flesh below. She slid two fingers into her cunt with a wet squelch that was all but drowned out by her hum of delight. “Very warm. Come back.”

“Oh, I’m coming,” he assured her and grabbed her thighs to push them back. She started to pull her fingers free, but he shook his head. “No, leave them there.”

Understanding—and approval—lit her eyes. “We haven’t done this in a while,” she said breathlessly.

“Objections?” he asked, though he already knew the answer.

She shook her head, her silver-streaked black hair a tangled mess on the pillow. “Uh-uh.”

“Then put your feet on my shoulders.”

She obeyed, grunting when he leaned into the press of her heels on his chest to force her legs back even further. Planting his knees wide for balance and leverage, he aimed his dick at the slick pucker between her cheeks.

She stilled when he made contact, and let out her breath, slow and steady, when he pressed forward. Her asshole gave way like warm butter, and a groan spilled from his lips as he sank halfway into her slick, hot ass.

He drew back slightly, then eased forward another inch. “You feel fucking good.”

“I feel fucking full,” she corrected, her voice pinched with discomfort.

“Too much?” he asked, preparing to withdraw if the answer was yes.

“No, just give me a minute.” She sucked in a deep breath, let it out slow. He waited, suffering through the clutch and flutter of her asshole around his dick, and after a moment the tension in her body eased. She nodded. “Okay.”

Watching her face, he pulled back until just the tip rested inside her ass, then slid balls deep.

“Oh, shit,” she wheezed, her body taut beneath him. Her asshole spasmed around him, and the fingers she had buried in her pussy flexed.

He groaned. “Shit. Do that again.”

“What?” she asked, looking dazed.

“Your fingers,” he said. “Move them again.”

“Like this?” she asked and wiggled them.

“Yeah.” Panting, gripping her thighs to anchor himself, he stared down at her. “Can you feel me?”

“That seems like a silly question,” she managed.

He almost laughed. “I mean through your pussy. With your fingers.”

“Oh.” She wiggled them again, then fucked them in and out a few times. Her mew of pleasure mingled with his ragged moan. “Yeah, I can.”

The stroke of her fingers on his shaft through the thin barrier separating pussy and ass was driving him wild. “It’s like getting a hand-job and fucking at the same time.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” she panted. “Any chance I can get in on the fucking?”

He tore his attention away from his very happy dick to focus on her face. “I’m sorry, are you feeling neglected?”

Her cheeks were flushed, her breath coming in ragged little pants, but she still managed to smirk at him. “Little bit.”

“Can’t have that,” he drawled and, pulling back, shoved into her. Hard.

Her eyes went wide, and her mouth fell open in a shocked O. “Tuck!”

“You said harder,” he reminded her and did it again, the slap of his hips into her upturned ass a lewd echo. He was watching her face carefully, and while there was shock in her expression, he didn’t see any pain or distress. He gave her one more hard, heavy thrust, then held himself deep and waited until she met his gaze. “I’ll stop if you can’t take it.”

Her flush had deepened, spreading down to her chest, and her eyes glittered with a combination of lust and challenge. “I can take anything you’ve got.”

“Then brace yourself, baby,” he warned and began to fuck her like they were eighteen again.

“Oh…my…God,” she wailed, each word punctuated by the slam of his hips. She braced her hands against the headboard, tits bouncing wildly, the flowering vine tattoo on her belly rippling as he did his best to fuck her through the mattress.

He wasn’t going to last long. They’d been fucking for a while before the phone had interrupted, and he was more than ready to come. He just had to make sure she came first.

“Come on, baby,” he grunted, pounding away. “Get there.”

“I’m trying,” she choked out, the heel of her hand sliding against her pussy. Her fingers were still buried deep—he could feel them sliding along his shaft with every thrust—but she wasn’t moving them much, and he realized he was thrusting too fast for her to get a good rhythm going.

He didn’t want to slow down, but knew it would take her a lot longer to come without working her clit. And he was hanging by a thread. “Move your hand.”

She blinked hazy eyes. “What?”

“Move your hand,” he repeated, and as soon as she did, slapped his down on her pussy.

She reacted as if he’d plugged her into a light socket—her back arched, her mouth fell open in shock. He did it again, keeping his fingers loose to heighten the sting, and she let out a wailing howl, her feet jerking against his chest. One more, he thought, and made sure to aim for her clit.

She exploded around him, body jerking and shuddering, her guttural wail making his ears ring. Her asshole clutched his dick like a fist, milking him in rhythmic pulls, and with a shout he poured himself into her.

“Oh, my God,” she croaked and let her hands flop to the mattress. “Oh, my God.”

“I’ll see your ‘oh, my God’,” he wheezed, and easing his dick out of her still-pulsing asshole, fell to the mattress at her feet. “And raise you a ‘holy shit’.”

“Amen,” she said weakly, then, “I’m leaking come on the sheets.”

He raised his head to look between her splayed thighs. “That’s hot.”

“Don’t even think about it,” she warned feebly.

“That sounds like a challenge,” he said and let his head fall back onto the bed. 

“Well, it’s not.” She paused to yawn. “We’re too old for that.”

“Hey, I’m still young,” he protested and grinned at the ceiling when she snorted. “Forty is the new thirty.”

“You’re forty-three.”

“Forty-three is the new thirty-three.”

“Okay,” she said agreeably. “Then you can carry me to the shower.”

“Soon as I can feel my legs,” he vowed. “Shit, my ears are still ringing.”

“That’s the dog snoring.”

“Oh.” Tuck twisted his head to look across the room, where the ten-year-old George was curled up in his bed, snoring like a lumberjack. “Remember when we had to crate him whenever we wanted to fuck?”

Esme giggled. “He only licked your balls once.”

“Once was enough,” Tuck muttered, then heard the beeping of his phone again. “Who the fuck keeps texting me?”

“Hang on.” Esme rolled over with a grunt to grab the phone. “It’s Jude.”

Tuck heaved himself into a sitting position. “Is it the baby?”

Esme scanned the screen. “No. He wants to know if you’re still an ordained minister from when you married Colin and Evan.”

“What?” Tuck took the phone Esme held out to frown at the screen. “Why would he want to know that?”

Esme rolled onto her stomach and pillowed her head on her arms. “Maybe he wants you to officiate their wedding next summer. Are you still an ordained minister?”

“Probably,” he muttered, thumbs flying as he sent Jude a response. “I don’t think it expires.”

“Is minister your official title?”

“I think so.” He glanced up. “Why?”

“I was just thinking what a shame it is we haven’t done any pastor/parishioner role play,” she said, sleepy eyes twinkling.

“What, like ‘bless me, Father, for I have sinned’?”

“Mmm, something like that. You’d have to give me penance.”

He waggled his eyebrows. “Cleanse your soul with my jizz.”

“That’s gross, Tucker.”

“You started it.” He set his phone aside. “Come on, let’s take a shower.”

She let him haul her off the bed with a pout. “What happened to carrying me?”

“I can either carry you or change the sheets,” he told her. “I don’t have the strength for both.”

“The new thirty-three, my ass,” she muttered and walked into the bathroom.

He watched her go, his gaze locked on her ass. Round, soft, and, as recently demonstrated, very fuckable. 

Maybe he had the energy for one or two more things, he decided, and followed her into the shower.

The F.I.L.T.H. Ever Afters is very low angst, as all the couples have already found their HEAs and the conflict here is all but nonexistent. But there are sexy times with all of them, and with one couple, those sexy times include some kink. You'll see some manhandling, an agressive blowjob, and some face-slapping, all of which is done with the enthusiastic consent of all parties, and that consent is made clear on page.