Morticia Addams was stunningly beautiful, the most enchanting fourty year old woman -let alone with three children- on earth, and elsewhere. Tonight, after hearing the wonderful news, she was determined to celebrate.
Finally, after three years of his worry and sadness, Pugsley was finally going to bring home a girl.
He was now five foot eight, his Uncle Fester's height. He was around one hundred seventy pounds, and plump. His har was still the same light brown. He wore black pants or black shorts now, and his stripped shirts sometimes differed from black and white, and were black and another color -dark, of course.
Morticia hadn't really heard much about her near eighteen year old son's girl, all she heard was that her name was Alison, she was just beautiful, and that they were going to love her. Morticia had also heard that she was quite the gardener.
Estatic, but showing little to none of it on her face, she finsiehd changing into her black lingerie. It was a black push up bra with silver spikes on the breasts, and it had silk coming off of it with matching panties. Yes, tonight, Morticia Addams was going to celebrate. For the first time since the trajec, untimely death of Wednesday's former lover, things were going right.
Gomez knew nothing of his wife's suprise for him. He was in his red nightshirt and black pajama bottoms, smoking his signature cigar when he walked into their bedroom. His eyes burned with their ever roaring, passionate fire when he saw his gorgeous wife. "Cara mia." He adressed her, breathlessly.
Morticia stood up from the bed, walked over to him and let him take her in his arms and kiss her. "Mon cher..." She purred. "Gomez, darling, I've decided to night is the perfect night to celebrate Pugsley finally finding someone."
"Oh, Tish..." Gomez smiled and chucked his cigar, excitedly. "My thoughts exactly."
"Well, then we shouldn't waste any time." Morticia replied, in a sultry tone of voice.
Gomez took her in his arms and lied her on the bed. He had mixed emotions as he loved the way her new... outfit, looked on her perfect form, but he just couldn't wait to tear it off of her.
Morticia immidiatley captured his lips with her own, and did not let them go.
After a while, Gomez began leaving a long trail of kisses down her body, removing her lingerie skillfully as he did so. When he moved back up, he just needed to take off the top part, but the long, sharp, silver spikes cut his chest slightly.
Gomez winced but enjoyed the sensation. His blood, the same color as his wife's nails, dripped down his chest. He continued to kiss her, and finally they were both free of their somewhat constricting clothing articles.
And into the night, the lover's screamed eachother's names, thankful their bedroom was large and secluded.
The next morning, Morticia was taking a hot bath when Gomez, fully clothed and ready for the day, walked in. "Carita, excelent news."
"What, darling?" Morticia asked, excited.
"Pugsley's new girlfriend is coming over for dinner tonight." Gomez responded.
"Marvelous. I can't wait to meet the young lady. I'm sure she's absolutely bleak."
"Oh, Tish." He walked over to the tub and kissed her hand, and Morticia moaned at his touch. "I only hope that Pugsley has found someone he can worship and adore as I do, you." Gomez told her.
Morticia smiled, her beautiful, mysterious smile that was almost always reserved for him. "Oh, darling, don't worry... I'm sure he has."
Gomez growled deeply. "I suppose I should go check on Pugsley."
Lost in his eyes, Morticia replied -sidetracked. "Yes, of course."
He kissed her very pale pink lips, which were as soft as the rose petals she often snipped. She hadn't put her makeup on yet, but she was still just as beautiful and her cheekbones were just as prominant.
After this, Gomez walked into his son's bedroom and found a now eight year old Pubert, watching the snow fall through his elder brother's window.
Pubert was skinny, and of average height for a boy his age. He had pale skin, like his mother and dark brown eyes. He even had a little mustache, like his father. He only really ever wore black, but his outfits were like a mix of a mini version of Gomez and a male version of Morticia. And his full head of hair was as black as the night.
"Son, have you seen your brother?" Gomez asked.
Pubert turned his head towards his father and nodded. "He's in the bathroom, father. He's trying to put on a nice outfit, for the lady who's coming over."
"Oh. And why are you in his room?"
"I wanted to help him get ready." Pubert paused. When he spoke, he sounded like a child but his words were those of someone much older than he. "I hate to break it to you, father. But Pugsley doesn't exactly have the best fashion sense. D'accord?"
Gomez chuckled. "I see your picking up a lot of French from your mother."
"Qui." Pubert replied.
Gomez walked over to his son and patted him on the back. "It'll help to know all of that French when you meet a girl someday."
"Oh, I already did."
Gomez raised an eyebrow. "Really? Who?"
"Her name's Anastasia. She moved here from France. I've been trying to learn more French so I could talk to her in her native language."
"Ah, I see. Does she like you?"
"Well, I asked her, voulez-vous loger ma tortue quelque temps? And she said, Qui. That's good, right?"
Gomez hesitated. He was getting better, but... "Pubert, what were you trying to say to her?"
"Isn't it obvious? Do you want to visit my house sometime?" Pubert replied.
"Uh, son... you are doing quite well so far. But maybe you should take a few lessons from your mother?" Gomez suggested.
"Why?" Pubert asked.
Morticia, fully dressed and ready, walked into the room. "Because, darling, you asked her if she wanted to house your turtle sometime."
"Oh no." Pubert bent his head down, looking defeated.
"Don't be discouraged, Pubert. Your mother can teach you everything you need to know." Gomez said, wrapping an arm around Morticia's waist.
"Darling..." Morticia tried to be modest.
"Well, if anyone can do it, it's you."
"Please, mother?" Pubert begged.
"Oh, of course I'll help you, dear."
"Thanks, mother!" He paused. "Can you and father buy me a turtle?"
Gomez and Morticia shared an amused look with eachother.
"We'll see about that, son." Gomez said.
Pubert nodded. "Okay, I'll go and tell Pugsley to come in here." Excited, the little boy then ran down the hall, calling for his older brother.
"Gomez, I think it would be appropriate if I were to go downstairs." Morticia said.
"Why is that, my darling?" Gomez asked.
"Because, mon cher, this is more of a father-son, moment. I don't want to cut into that." Morticia explained.
"Oh, querida, you wouldn't be cutting into anything." Gomez told her, then kissed her neck. "You know I'd give anything to never, ever have to leave your side."
"Mmm..." Morticia caught herself, she was getting sidetracked. "Yes, darling. I know you want me here for this, but what about our son? And besides, darling, if I'm here it might... distract you from your moment."
Gomez wasn't going to lie. "Cara mia, you are right." He told her. "I'll be downstairs soon."
"Alright, darling."
Gomez then passionatley kissed her before she exited the room.
Pugsley soon walked in, to his father smoking a cigar.
"Hello, father." Pugsley greeted him.
Gomez turned to find his son, looking quite handsome.
He had on a lovely black suit with a touch of purple in it. His necktie, however, which was purple and hat black bat designs on it, was on the wrong way.
"Here, son. Let me fix that." Gomez held the cigar in his mouth and fixed Pugsley's tie. He took a step back to stare at his son.
"I remember when you were still in your little guillotine, with Wednesday trying to sever your head." Gomez reminisced. "And now, here you are. Eighteen and bringing home women..." Gomez chuckled. "You rascal."
"Father!" Pugsley laughed. "Thanks for being so... supportive about this. And for lending me the tie. I know Great Grandpa Eisenheimer gave it to you."
"Pugsley, keep the tie." Gomez said.
"Really?" Pugsley asked.
Gomez nodded. "Great Grandpa Eisenheimer would want you to have it."
Pugsley then pulled his father in for a big hug. "Thanks, father. I can't wait for you to meet Alison. She's just my type."
"I'm sure she is." Gomez, not breaking the hug, looked into his son's eyes. "But promise me you won't di what Uncle Fester did, and jumo into this too fast with someone who may or may not be right for you."
"i promise on my grave." Pugsley said, not breaking their gaze.
Gomez patted his son on the back. "Good boy. Your mother and I are so very proud of you."
Just then, the doorbell rang.
Pugsley, a nervous wreck, broke the hug. "She's here!"
Lurch answered the door, but Morticia wanted to take over from there.
Morticia stood face to face with a woman, about five foot seven. She had short brown hair in a bob, peircing brown eyes and fair white skin. She was wearing a red dress, a white fur coat and white gloves with three inch white high heels. The woman looked to be in her early to mid-fourties.
Morticia cordially, semi-smiled at her. "Hello, you must be Alison's mother." Morticia craned her neck just a tad so she could look to see where Alison was. She couldn't see though because the window's were so black, and on top of that, it was snowing quite hard. "Where's your daughter?" Morticia asked, politely.
Unfazed, the woman spoke. "I have no daughter." She replied.
Before Morticia could respond, Pugsley appeared some ten feet behind her.
"Mother." He paused. "That's her. That's Alison."