Finale

This story is a work of fiction. Any similarities between any character in this story and any real person are coincidental and unintended.

This is the second story in a series. You should read the initial chapter of The Second Generation because this chapter story picks up where the prior one ended. Comments on this story, both favorable and unfavorable, are always welcome. Thank you for reading this. I hope you enjoy it.

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I don't claim to be a stud. Prior to Yvonne, I'd had sex with three girlfriends. My experience was that the first time with someone is a bit awkward as the two of you learn what each other likes and dislikes.

The first time with Yvonne was exactly the opposite. There was no awkwardness. We came together as though we'd been machined to fit each other. We intuitively knew what pleased each other the most. Our hearts seemed to beat in synch. I wasn't even conscious of my dick moving inside of her. Rather, I just experienced ever more intense pleasure.

Yvonne and I weren't two people having sex. We were two components of a single being. That being had a single orgasm which exploded in both component parts at the same instant. It was the most extraordinary and pleasurable experience of my life to that point.

I didn't realize that I had lost all perception until Yvonne's gorgeous face came back into my vision. I again felt her body beneath me and her vagina surrounding me. I heard the birds again.

Yvonne's eyes were gleaming. Her face, now sweaty, looked more beautiful than I can describe. She kissed me and said, "That was life."

I pulled out, stood up, and helped Yvonne to her feet. I brushed some grass off her back. She took my hand and said, "Let's walk."

About 40 yards from the north side of the house, a hill rose above my plateau. The hill was covered with deciduous and evergreen trees. Emile's, now my, property stopped a short way inside the woods. I wasn't sure who owned the rest of the woods. In the month or so I'd been living there, I hadn't met any neighbors.

Yvonne led me into the woods, and we started walking up the hill. I'd never walked in the woods naked before. It felt great! In fact, it would have felt inappropriate if Yvonne or I had been wearing anything.

We'd been walking about twenty minutes, ascending a gentle slope above my property. I saw movement in the corner of my eye. Looking left, I saw a person walking towards us at a right angle to our direction. My impulse was to hide somewhere, but Yvonne just tightened her grip on my hand and kept walking.

As we closed with the other person, I could see that it was a woman. She was in shorts, a tee shirt, and hiking boots. I guessed she was in her late 50s. Her skin was tanned and wrinkled. Her arms and legs had visible muscle, but she also had a large belly. When she was about twenty feet away, Yvonne waved and said "Hello!"

The woman had obviously seen us and, I think, had hoped to just ignore us. Yvonne calling out denied her that option. Frowning, the woman said, "Who are you?" She had a surprisingly low voice.

"I'm Harry Stone," I answered. "I inherited Emile Stone's place at the base of the hill. Emile was my uncle. This is my, uh, partner Yvonne Charet."

"Why aren't you wearing any clothes?" the woman asked gruffly.

Yvonne stepped forward. I was happy to let her handle the nudity issue. "It's such a beautiful day that we made love on the grass behind Harry's house," Yvonne said. "After we were done, we felt like a walk and didn't want to waste time dressing. Besides, it feels so natural to be naked in the woods."

Yvonne had disclosed more detail than I would have, but she did it in such a disarming way that the woman's frown lessened, a little. "When did you move into Emile's?" she asked.

"I came here to live in May," I said.

"I moved in yesterday," Yvonne replied.

"Where'd you come from?" the woman asked.

"Cincinnati," I answered.

"Washington, D.C.," Yvonne said.

"You're from Cincinnati, you're from Washington, and you're a couple?" the woman asked.

"For life," Yvonne replied.

"Who are you?" I asked.

"Rose MacDowell," the woman answered. "I live on the other side of the hill. In fact, you're probably on my property now."

"I'm sorry if we're trespassing," I said quickly. "We'll leave."

The woman thought for a moment. "No," she said, "no need to do that. Don't suppose you're hurting anything." She paused, then melted a fraction. "I'm sorry about your uncle," she said. "He was a good man. A bit strange, but a good man."

"You knew Emile?" I asked. "I didn't see him much the last years of his life."

"Well," Rose said, "it was tough to see him. He was always running off to Europe or somewhere. Yeah, I knew Emile. He paid my daughter to take care of his grapes."

Eureka! I'd found, I hoped, someone to revive the vineyard. "You know about vineyards?" I asked.

"Worked a bunch of years in Napa and Sonoma," Rose said, "then for some folks making ice wine in West Virginia. My husband Fred owned this property, got it from his mommy and daddy. We's going to grow our own grapes but Fred died. "Cassie, that's my daughter, went to that program Kent State's got. What do they call it? Viniculture? Anyway, she's been taught about grape growing and winemaking. She's back home now. She's trying to find a job. They's more and more folks making wine in these parts. She'll come up with something."

"If you've got time," I said, "I'd appreciate it if you could stop by the house sometime. I'd like to talk to you about what I need to do to keep Emile's vineyard going."

"I suppose you don't wear any clothes at your house either, do you?" Rose said.

"No, we don't," Yvonne answered.

Rose made a noise like "Humph" and walked off.

"She stopped and talked to us," Yvonne said.

"And didn't shoot us," I added. "You saw that pistol in the waistband of her shorts, didn't you?"

"You Americans and your guns," Yvonne said.

"I don't keep a gun," I replied.

Yvonne looked at my dick. "You're pretty well armed Harry," she said. That made me feel unreasonably good.

We waked a little farther up the hill, savoring the view of the surrounding valley. We didn't encounter any other neighbors.

Back at the house, Yvonne grinned and said, "Well, we told Rose that we stay naked at home. That means we must do it. We can't be liars. So, our first rule together: we go naked here all the time."

"I'm ok with that," I said. In a matter of hours, Yvonne had exposed me to my neighbor and turned me into a full-time nudist. The woman was having a powerful effect on me, but it seemed positive.

Yvonne and I were sitting on the patio late that afternoon. The patio faced east and, with the house rising two stories above it to the west, was nicely shaded. I thought I heard a car come up the driveway. A couple of minutes later, we both heard a female voice call "Hello?"

Yvonne called out, "Back here."

A moment later, a young woman came around the corner. She was probably a couple of years younger than Yvonne. She was a big woman, and I don't mean fat. The woman was my height, or a bit taller, with broad shoulders and hips. She was wearing a tee shirt and shorts. Under the tee shirt she had an obviously large chest. The shorts disclosed large, firm thighs and calves.

"Mom said you'd be naked," the woman said. She followed that with, "Hi, I'm Cassie MacDowell. Mom said she met you in the woods earlier and you wanted to talk about the vineyard?"

"Thanks for coming," I said. "Please, sit down. Can I get you anything to drink?"

Cassie sat. "No, I'm fine," she said.

"Well," I said, "the vineyard hasn't had anything done to it since Emile died. I don't know anything about grape growing or winemaking. I'd like to get the vineyard producing, but I need someone who knows what they're doing."

"I used to take care of the vineyard before Emile got sick," Cassie said. "Things started slipping then. There are probably enough vines that we could harvest enough to press and put down to ferment this fall. That means the vineyard as it is might yield a few bottles in a year or two. That isn't enough to be commercially viable. You've got enough land and your exposure's right. If you put in more vines, I think you'd have a viable winery in about six years."

"What would that cost?" I asked.

Cassie smiled. "Probably more than you want to spend." She was silent for a moment before saying, "There's something we could try."

"What's that?" I asked.

"I've got three friends from KSU," Cassie said. "We always talked about starting our own winery. What I'm thinking is, if you'd let us plant that whole south part of the plateau, kind of lease it from you, we might be able to do it. We'd put in the capital and, once we covered our costs, we could pay you a cut of the profit as rent."

Yvonne said, "Would you write up a proposal and give it to us?"

"Sure," Cassie said. She stood up. "That is a nice little pool your uncle put in there. I could use something like that. I have to work to stay in shape."

"Do you want to come over and use it?" I asked.

"Could I?" Cassie asked in response.

I looked at Yvonne, who nodded her head. "Sure," I said.

"You probably don't want me wearing a swimsuit, do you?" Cassie asked.

"We'd prefer that you didn't," Yvonne answered.

Cassie smiled. "That's what I was hoping you'd say."

After Cassie left, I asked Yvonne something that had been troubling me. "You said that your mother told you that the Charet woman was 'ordained' to be with the Pierre man. Charet was your father's name. Your mother would have had a different name before she married your father, right?"

"Yes and no," Yvonne said. "Father's family name was Charet, but so was Mother's. She told me that they investigated before they married and that there was a common ancestor back in the 17th Century. I don't know your laws here in the U.S. but, in France, that was not a close enough relationship to prohibit them from marrying."

"Oh," I said. What else could I say? I had no idea if what Yvonne said was true, but I was willing to trust her.

Cassie showed up the next morning just before 8 o'clock to start swimming laps. Yvonne and I decided to join her. I was impressed that Cassie stripped off with no apparent hesitation. I've always believed that everyone looks better naked than clothed. That was certainly true for Cassie MacDowell.

Seeing Yvonne and Cassie naked together was a study in contrasts. Yvonne was much smaller than Cassie and, I thought then, much more beautiful. Nudity seemed natural for Yvonne. It was like she wasn't meant to wear clothes.

Cassie seemed to be exposing herself. Looking at Cassie's nude body gave me the sense that I was seeing something private and intimate. Some of that came from the obvious tan lines. Cassie apparently sunned in a one-piece. Some of it was just how she moved and acted with no clothes on. There was something very endearing about Cassie MacDowell in the nude.

Cassie obviously had a strong body, but I had no idea how much of a swimmer she was. Cassie did the full 142 laps (two miles) which Yvonne and I swam. The three of us left the water together and went to a bench where we kept clean towels.

When Yvonne and I finished toweling off, Yvonne reached out and took my dick in her hand. "Cassie," Yvonne said, "this is one of the many things I enjoy about being naked with men. The penis is one of nature's works of art." Yvonne was rubbing her index finger on the underside of my head as she spoke. "No two are exactly alike. Of course, the most noticeable difference is between men like Harry who have been circumcised and those who have not been. You can see where the cut was made." Yvonne ran her finger around the diameter of my shaft just below my head.

I was getting hard, and Cassie, whom I'd only met yesterday, was looking intently at my dick as Yvonne played with me. Part of my brain told me that I should be embarrassed being fully exposed in front of someone who was, basically, a stranger. The rest of my brain decided that it was nice having two women looking at my dick.

Yvonne lifted my hard dick up, clearly exposing my balls to Cassie. "This is another thing I love," Yvonne said, "a man's scrotum and the outline of his testicles. It is so cute!" Yvonne ran a finger over my balls. "The skin feels so different from other parts of his body." Yvonne reached out, took Cassie's hand, and placed it on my balls. "See what I mean?"

Cassie and I made eye contact. It was obvious that Cassie wasn't sure where this was going or if she should even be part of it, but she had fallen under Yvonne's sway. So had I. We were both powerless to do anything other than what Yvonne suggested.

"Now, Cassie," Yvonne said, "take his shaft in your hand." Yvonne moved Cassie's hand from my balls and placed it on my dick. Yvonne put her hand over Cassie's, pushing Cassie's hand closed around my shaft. Cassie's hand felt different than Yvonne's. For one thing, the skin on Cassie's hand was rougher than Yvonne's. Cassie's hand was stronger than Yvonne's too. I can't say that it was unpleasant having Cassie hold my dick. In fact, it felt nice. It was just different.

Cassie held me for a few moments as she and I looked in each other's eyes. Cassie had large green eyes in a rather large face. She had a longer than normal nose which turned up slightly at its end, smooth cheeks, and a wide mouth with lush lips. Just below her mouth to the left side was a small outgrowth of skin that was slightly darker than the rest of her skin. It wasn't a pimple and didn't look inflamed. It was more like a beauty mark that had risen a millimeter or two above the surrounding skin.

Cassie let go of me. "I've got to get back," she said. "I need to have talks with my friends before I write up that proposal you asked for." Cassie turned and walked towards the other end of the pool where she'd left her clothes. There was a slight sway to her hips as she walked. Cassie had a large ass, but it was muscle rather than fat. She looked quite nice from behind.

Cassie dressed and walked back past us to the outside door. As she reached the door, Yvonne asked, "Laps tomorrow?"

"Of course," Cassie replied.

"No suits," Yvonne said.

Cassie smiled. "Of course, no suits," she said. She walked out the door.

Cassie was back around sunrise the next morning. Yvonne was a very early riser. She and I were sitting nude on the patio, drinking coffee when Cassie arrived.

"Uh, well, we need to talk about the vineyard," Cassie said.

"Please take your clothes off," Yvonne said. "I much prefer everyone to be nude when we discuss business." To my mild surprise, Cassie started undressing.

"Would you like coffee?" I asked. Cassie nodded. I went inside and upstairs to get her a cup. When I came back, Yvonne and Cassie were sitting completely nude across our patio table from each other.

"I was telling Yvonne," Cassie said, "my friends aren't interested in helping with your vineyard. They think it will take too long to reach a commercially viable yield and we don't know what quality of wine we'll get."

I was disappointed. I rather liked the idea of owning a commercial vineyard. "I'm still interested," Cassie said. "What I'd like to do is get the existing vineyard cleaned up. Let's see if there's anything to harvest in the fall. If there is, we'll press it and set it down to ferment. We'll put in more vines next spring. That won't cost that much. If we harvest anything this year, it will be ready to drink before there's any yield from the new vines. We can see what we've got and decide whether you want to spend the money to set up a winery here." We agreed to that.

"What was Emile paying you to take care of his vines?" I asked. Cassie told me. It seemed small to me. I was willing to bump that $ 3.00/hour and said so. "That still doesn't give you much money," I concluded.

"I think I can manage it," Cassie said. "I was offered a part-time gig at the wine store in Athens, 3:00 p.m. to 8:00 p.m. Monday through Friday. I can come over here in the morning, work until about noon, go home and clean up, and be in Athens by 3:00."

"Will you keep swimming?" Yvonne asked.

"If you'll let me," Cassie said. Yvonne started to say something, but Cassie interrupted. Smiling, she said, "I know, no suits."

"If you bring your store clothes," Yvonne said, "you can clean up and go straight to the wine store from here. You know we've got the showers inside. We've also got the outdoor shower, which I like better."

That became the deal. Cassie would come over early in the morning. The three of us would swim a couple of miles in the nude. Cassie would work on the vineyard for a few hours and then clean up and go to work in Athens. I bumped into Cassie a few times leaving for Athens. Her usual wine store outfit was a polo shirt and slacks, but she cleaned up well.

While Cassie worked the vineyard, Yvonne spent more and more time on her phone or on the computer. We were out in the boonies, but I had a satellite WiFi connection. When I asked casually what Yvonne was doing, she gave a vague answer about dealing with the family business in France. She was also, she said, planning our trip to France together. She wanted to be in Paris on Bastille Day.

Sex was a huge part of Yvonne's and my life together. Yvonne particularly enjoyed making love outdoors, and the summer weather lent itself to that. We took nude walks in the woods at least three or four times a week. We found a small outcropping on the side of a hill, I think on the MacDowell property, that afforded a sweeping view of the valley to the east. While the outcropping was small, it was plenty big enough for us to make love. I doubt that anyone could see us there, but making love on the outcropping gave you the sense that you were doing it in front of the whole world.

It was the Sunday of the July 4 weekend. We were scheduled to fly from Columbus to Kennedy to Paris in a week. That afternoon, Yvonne led me up to the outcropping. We stood naked looking down on picnics going on at a couple of the houses in the valley. We also made love, even more passionately than usual. We went back to the house and ate. After dark, Yvonne led me back to the outcropping. We made love there again while the folks in the valley shot off their leftover fireworks.

The next day, Monday, I woke much later than usual. I was surprised that Yvonne hadn't woken me. I was also surprised that her side of the bed was made. Going into the bathroom to take my morning leak, I didn't see any of her things on the vanity. I didn't know why that was but assumed that Yvonne was downstairs swimming. I was a little annoyed that she'd let me sleep.

Cassie had just gotten out of the pool and was toweling off. A month of swimming laps showed on her body. Cassie was still, and always would be, a large-framed woman with large breasts, but she looked sleeker and more sculpted. When she noticed me, Cassie asked, "Where did Yvonne go?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Her car's not outside," Cassie replied.

"She didn't say anything about going anywhere," I said. I walked into the bathroom that served the pool and workout room. Yvonne kept shampoo and conditioner in there. That was gone. Walking back out to the pool, I said, "This is weird. Yvonne's not here and her stuff is gone from the bathroom upstairs and this one."

"Her clothes are still here, right?" Cassie asked. Yvonne had taken an overnight trip to D.C. by herself about ten days earlier and came back with most of a carload of clothes, shoes, and books. We'd spent a full day arraigning them where she wanted them around the house.

"I think so," I said. "Maybe I ought to look." I went upstairs. Without bothering to dress, Cassie followed me. Yvonne had taken a walk-in closet off our bedroom. I was dumbfounded when I opened that door. The closet was empty. I was sure it had been full the night before. Turning to Cassie, I said, "What the fuck is going on?"