She was his own personal dolly - everything that he considered gorgeous and breathtaking, she was. She was his Debbie Doll, and had they not been step-siblings, he would have asked her out immediately...
But how long can the knowledge that their des...
On the morning of my seventeenth birthday, Ritchie woke me with his head between my legs and his lips wrapped around my clitoris. It was blissful, and exactly what I had wanted to wake up to on my birthday.
Since we had gotten married nearly a week earlier, Ritchie and I had been insatiable; fucking like rabbits at all hours of the day and night and wherever we could. What had once been John and Micky's settee - but was now just Micky's - couldn't take us anymore, so we were going to go back to dad and Elsie's tonight, though we would have to act like we weren't married - which would be hard.
As soon as I had exploded over his tongue, the door opened and John and Micky ran into the room, George and Paul following after them, Cynthia coming in a few moments later with a cup of tea for Ritchie, me and herself.
"Hey," John said, frowning at his wife, "where's mine?"
"It's not your birthday." I smiled in thanks for the tea as she handed it to me.
"I'm your husband." John pointed out.
"I make you tea every morning, John, stop complaining." She went to sit in the empty armchair and smiled at Ritchie and me as she blew the steam from her own cup.
"Ringo makes Deb tea every morning. That's what a good -"
"Husband does for their wife." She paused, sighing. "I'm pregnant, John, shouldn't you be making me tea?"
Paul's eyes widened. "Wait..."
I groaned.
"Cyn," Ritchie rolled his eyes, "you just told them."
"Oh, God!" She exclaimed at the two of us, "I'm so sorry -"
"It's fine." I paused, "they had to find out at some point, right?"
"You're married?" George exclaimed in disbelief, looking at me and then Ritchie and then back to me.
We both nodded. "Almost a week, now." He held up his left hand, displaying the tungsten wedding ring that we had picked out together. It was the cheapest ring in the store, but had been all that we could afford - Ritchie had vowed to buy me a diamond one when he and the rest of the lads were rich and famous and their band was top of the world.
I had no doubt that it would happen.
"Anyway," Cynthia said, "happy birthday."
"Thank you." I smiled at them all, "thank you for being here - Cyn, you and John must have left so early to be here for when we woke up." I clutched Ritchie's shirt from the previous day more tightly around me. I had slept in it since I loved the comfort that the smell of him brought, but I was only wearing a pair of panties - which Ritchie had pulled aside when he had given me my birthday treat earlier that morning. My release was still between my legs, though Ritch had mostly cleaned me. It was turning slightly sticky and I wanted a wash, but I didn't voice that to anybody in the room.
Cynthia gestured to John to get her handbag. He sighed and did, handing it to her. She took out a small gift wrapped in brown paper. "This is from me." I unwrapped it. It was a gorgeous stationery set which must have cost a lot of her weekly allowance from her parents. I smiled.
"Thank you, Cynthia."
"You can write to your dad when you're in London." She meant well, so I didn't tell her that dad and I weren't really on speaking terms at that moment.
"Thanks, Cyn." I repeated, "I love it." I did, truly.
And then Paul put a larger present in my lap; a box. "This is from us lads." He gestured to him, John and George. I opened it and saw a pair of shoes that I had been eyeing up just a few days before when I had been out shopping with Cynthia, "Cyn told us what ones to get, but we had to guess on your size, so if it's not right then we can return them -"
"No, they're the right size, thank you." I smiled at the three of them, "they're exactly the ones that I wanted, thank you." I turned to Cynthia, "thank you, Cynthia." She smiled again.
"I have a present for you, luv." Ritchie stood up from the settee, being careful to leave the blanket that we had been sharing wrapped around my legs. He was wearing his underwear, and he shot an apologetic look at Cynthia as he crossed the room and went out of the living room door. We could hear him rifling around in the cupboard in the hallway, and he returned just a few seconds later. He tucked himself back under the blanket and put one arm around my hips before he handed me my present. It was a small box. "For the love of my life." He said as I slid the lid off of the box and pulled back the layer of tissue paper.
My jaw dropped.
Inside the box was the most gorgeous little bracelet. It was gold, with dainty daisies every centimetre or so spaced between the chain. It took my breath away and brought tears to my eyes.
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I turned my head to look at him, but he was staring at everybody else in the room. "Some privacy?" They all nodded and got up and left. He turned back to me, "do you like it, Deb?"
I nodded, kissing his lips softly before I pulled away to look at the bracelet again. "It's beautiful, Ritch. God, it must have cost a bomb. You didn't have to spend anything on me, y'know, you're present enough -"
He chuckled and looked into my eyes, "you're worth so much more than what I could spend on you in a lifetime." Ritch took the box from me, taking the bracelet out and then taking my left wrist and doing the clasp up. I held my wrist up to the light and saw how the bracelet shined in the mid-morning sun which was filtering in through the thin curtains of Micky's flat.
"It's gorgeous, Ritch, really. Thank you."
"I know it's not what you were probably expecting; I would have liked to get you a ring, but -"
"We have the rest of our lives for you to get me a ring." I told him softly, aware that the lads were probably right outside the door and listening in to everything that we were saying. "This is special."
"It's your first birthday as my wife." Ritchie kissed me again, "but we've got fifty-odd more, so get used to being treated." Ritch paused, "when we've made it to number one, Deb, I'm going to bring you home daisies every night -"
I giggled, "daisies?" I echoed, "are they our flower?"
He nodded, "they're my favourite." He tucked a stray piece of hair behind my ear. I nuzzled into the side of his hand, "and you remind me of a daisy."
