A Young Widow's Odyssey

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A young widow sheds her sexual repression (part two).
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Alex's life had turned upside down since the death of her husband. In fact, today marked the fourteenth month of his untimely death. Most deaths, perhaps, are untimely, but he was so young. It had been a trying year, watching helplessly as the lung cancer ravaged his body. It was unexpected because he didn't smoke, exercised regularly, and followed a vegetarian diet. It took Alex a year before she opened herself up to a new relationship. Two months ago, she met Vinny on a late night flight from Boston to LAX. A week later, they began a whirlwind affair. During the last three weeks, however, and much to her displeasure, his preoccupation with work took priority over their love life. She vowed to be patient, however, because it was the rugged Vinny Bambino that saved her from the numbing ache of loneliness and sexual repression.

Her ten-year marriage to Tom, her late husband, had been a loving affair, tender and affectionate, but lacking the raw passion she craved. She was now in her sexual prime, and at thirty-five, she was a knock out. At five foot six, she was the envy of all her friends. Alex's thick dark hair, olive complexion, and green eyes brought compliments from her female friends, but her body never failed to turn men's heads. No matter her attire, her small waist, well-toned legs, and big breasts, caught the eye of every man she met. She savored the moans and verbal expletives Vinny uttered when he removed her bra and devoured the flawless flesh of her full breasts. Her nipples were extremely sensitive, responding passionately to his large hands and soft lips. Vinny had routinely brought her to the edge of orgasm by merely massaging and licking her big tits. But of late, she was left to her own means of self-satisfaction. Vinny hadn't touched her in two weeks.

Her coworkers at the real estate agency had noted her new enthusiasm, suspecting she had finally found a lover. Clay, a fellow realtor and fierce competitor, had dogged her for two years. He seized every opportunity to test his seductive schemes, but Alex, always the faithful wife, had rebuffed him. Her marriage to Tom hadn't deterred him, but when he died, Clay uncharacteristically showed her respect, and cooled his heels. Recently, however, the bloodhound within him detected a change in her attitude, and once again, he singled mindedly pursued her. He was relentless, cornering her every chance he got, telling her salacious jokes, detailing his favorite sexual fetishes, and boasting that he had never failed to satisfy a woman. His self-assurance and braggadocio bordered on arrogance. His talk was bold and intimidating, but deep within her, he had hit the mark. Consciously she denied it, but down deep, at the core of her being, Clay turned her on.

Two of Alex's female friends referred to Clay as an alpha male, domineering, arrogantly flaunting his male animal magnetism at the expense of good manners and social graces. Married women in the office laughed at his bold behavior, but Alex sensed, given the chance, they would have loved to test his sexual prowess. A couple of close female coworkers, confessed after a couple of drinks, they had fantasized about him while making love to their husbands. Alex had to admit that it was his commanding physical presence and self-assurance that piqued her curiosity. Physically he had all the makings of a great lover.

Today he had pushed the limits. Just before lunch, he barged into her office, perched his athletic frame on the edge of the desk, and flashed her a devilish grin. "What do you think about phone sex?"

"What?"

"Alex, you are not telling me that at thirty-five, you have not enjoyed the thrills of phone sex."

"Clay, Tom and I were married for ten years."

"You're not married now."

"So."

"You've been acting differently the last month or so."

"Oh?"

"You have a bounce in your step, your eyes sparkle. I sense you've been getting laid."

"What!"

"You heard me. I can tell when a woman is satisfied." He moved his hips, punctuating his point, providing Alex a glimpse of his hidden, but enormous manhood. His dress slacks failed to conceal its immense size, bulging his trouser. It looked like a snake caught up in his trousers, running down a good portion of his thickly muscled leg.

"And, I look satisfied?" Alex starred at his leg, mesmerized.

"Perhaps last month. Not last week or now. What's up?"

"I'm fine," she lied.

"I don't buy it."

Alex squirmed in her chair, then blurted, "That's your call."

"I've got a proposition. Tonight, when you get home, get comfortable, have a glass of wine, and I'll give you a call."

"Why?"

"I'm going to introduce you to the ecstasy of phone sex."

"What?"

"You heard me. At eight sharp, pick up. You won't regret it."

Clay flashed Alex another wide grin, slid from her cluttered desk, then paused at the office door. "You won't be disappointed."

He was gone, thank God, but his perceptiveness alarmed her. It was true she had a new spring in her step, and it was also true she had been getting laid. But how could he possibly know that Vinny was avoiding her. Clay was obnoxious, tenacious, and arrogant. He was also dead on concerning her love life. Despite his outlandish self-assurance, he exuded sex appeal. Images of his bulging trousers haunted her all afternoon.

Several months ago, the agency had a swim party at a local resort. She got her share of male attention, her bikini clad body catching the eye of every male in sight, but Clay easily matched her, drawing and endless series of female compliments. While in the resort bathroom, she overheard several women talking, admitting they would die to get a crack at him. One woman said, in a throaty voice, the word on the street has it that he's hung like a horse and knows what to do with it. His broad shoulders, thickly muscled thighs and arms, and flat abs were definitely a physical turn on. His arrogance was another matter. She reached for her phone, dialed an escrow office, jettisoning Clay and his hot air from her mind. She had work to do.

Alex got away early, arriving home at six thirty, early for a realtor accustomed to ten-hour workdays. She retrieved her messages, elated at hearing Vinny's voice. He was in Boston trying to close a big import deal. He complained about his grueling work schedule, but would phone her tomorrow. He said he missed her, but reluctantly informed her that he would be on the East Coast for another three weeks. She cursed him out loud, then headed upstairs for a Jacuzzi. She poured a glass of wine and settled in for a good soak. She missed the tender, loving attention of her late husband, and the hot sex with Vinny. The soothing jets of the Jacuzzi, however, eased her nervous tension. After a twenty-minute soak, she grabbed a towel and admired her reflection in the floor length bathroom mirror. Her flat abs, flawless skin, big tits, and fleshy, but firm ass, looked great. She only wished she felt as well as she looked. Again, images of Clays enormous cock flooded her tormented mind.

Downstairs she lit a fire and started on her second glass of cabernet, but stopped short, opting to drink it later. Alex got a sudden itch to read; she decided to hit the corner bookstore and pick up the latest James Patterson novel. She moved slowly back upstairs, put on a short skirt, cotton blouse, and high-heeled sandals. Heading downstairs, she heard the phone. Thinking it was Vinny, she picked up after the second ring.

"Hello."

"Well, well, you amaze me."

"Who's this?"

"You haven't forgotten already?"

"Clay. You surprised me."

"I told you to pick up at eight."

"Oh, that. I had already forgotten."

"Well, I've got your attention now. What are you wearing?"

"Nothing special. I was on my way to the bookstore."

"Oh, that can wait."

"What's up?" Alex was taken off guard, puzzled by his sudden phone call. She was expecting Vinny.

"Phone sex."

"What?"

"Phone sex. Remember our chat in your office?"

"Clay, I'm not in the mood," she lied. She once again flashed on the scene in her office, talk of phone sex, and his blatant exhibitionism. Saliva pooled in her mouth just thinking about his bulging trousers.

"Give me a few. I'll get your attention."

"Really."

"What are you wearing?"

"I told you, nothing special."

"Try me."

"If you must. Let's see, I've got on a short navy blue skirt, off-white blouse, and sandals."

"Any underwear?"

"Of course. I wouldn't go out in public without them!"

"Such a pity. That would be a turn on."

"For whom?"

"Me, for one."

"Well, I'm not a slut."

"We'll see."

"What?"

"Are you comfortable?"

"Yes. I just took a Jacuzzi. I'm on my second glass of wine."

"Take another sip."

"Why?"

"I want you relaxed."

"I am."

"Unbutton your blouse."

"Why."

"Just do it."

His voice lowered and took on an authoritative tone. Suddenly it dawned on her. He wanted to engage her in phone sex. She took another sip of cabernet, leaned back on the sofa, and unbuttoned the top button.

"I popped the first button."

"Good. Now slowly unbutton the rest."

His voice was confident, firm, but sensual. Alex could visualize his Cheshire grin and arrogant demeanor. She could also visualize his powerful physique. She had to admit, for a forty something male, he was one hell of a hunk. Her hands took over, moved by some primordial force. "I just popped the last button."

"Stand up and remove your blouse."

Alex dutifully stood and shed the cotton blouse, then sank back into the inviting softness of the sofa, taking another sip of wine. She hadn't felt this relaxed in weeks. She felt like a voyeur, watching herself from afar, moved by an internal force beyond her control. "Okay."

"What color is your bra?"

"Pale blue."

"Does it unfasten in the back?"

"Yes."

"Unhook it."

Alex was intrigued by his commands. His breathy voice was firm, but seductive. Why not, what harm could it do? It was a first for her. She robotically reached behind her, as if in a trance, and released the snaps. Her large breasts spilled out of the D cups, nipples distended, falling only slight under their own weight. She was busty, but also relatively young and in great physical shape. Se had to admit her tits were fabulous.

"Okay."

"You're braless?"

"Yes." Her breathy voice matched his. He was turning her on.

"How short is your skirt?"

"Mid thigh."

"Stand up and bunch your skirt around your hips. Then get comfortable."

Alex followed his command, stood, pulled up her navy blue skirt, then sank back on the sofa. "My skirt is bunched up around my hips and my blue bikinis are visible."

"Excellent. How do you feel?

"Exposed. I'm topless, my legs are completely exposed, and my bikinis aren't keeping me warm." Her soft, lyrical voice filled the room, but it sounded as if it were coming from someone else. Maybe this is only a dream, she thought.

"We'll take care of that soon enough. Touch your breasts. Fondle them, tweak the nipples, imagine my mouth sucking them."

Alex mechanically followed his instructions to the letter. She was getting hot. "It feels good," she said softly, with a hint of embarrassment. "But I much rather a man fondle and suck my tits."

"We'll get to that. Now move your hand to your panties. Fondle your clit. While you massage your pussy with one hand, fondle your big tits with the other."

Alex's breath was quickening, clearly audible to Clay on the other end of the phone. "I'd rather be stroked by a real man."

"All in good time."

Alex decided to turn the tables on Clay. "What are you wearing?"

"Jeans and a sweat shirt."

"Unbutton your jeans."

"Ah, that's a relief. My cock was threatening to pop the buttons on my Levis."

"Stroke your cock."

"I am. But I would rather you do it."

"Not possible. You're at your place and I'm tuck away in the Hollywood Hills."

"We could make it happen in seconds."

"What?"

"Move to your front window and look across the street. I'm in the dark blue Mercedes."

"No way."

"Check it out."

Alex cautiously moved to the front window and slowly parted the drapes. Sure enough, across the street, parked in the shadows, was a dark blue Mercedes, driver's window down, and Clay waving a cell phone. "Clay, for God's sake, you're impossible."

"Maybe. I'm coming in."

"No! I'm not decent."

"I'll give you two minutes. If you don't answer the door, I'll kick it in"

Alex panicked. She dashed to the downstairs bathroom, splashed water on her face, smoothed out her navy blue skirt, and put back on her bra and blouse. She moved to the front door and spied Clay through the peephole. He rang the doorbell, repeatedly striking doorknocker. She shuddered at his physical insistence, wobbling slightly in her spiked sandals. She acquiesced and slowly opened the door.

"About time, I was about to kick in the door."

Clay quickly entered, slamming the door shut. He shoved Alex up against the foyer wall and gazed into her eyes. "Phone sex is over. Now for the real thing." He lowered his head and gently kissed her full lips. As their kisses deepened, he reached down and inched up her short skirt, bunching it around her hips. He moved his hands to her firm, fleshy ass, massaging the silky globes with a rhythmic stroke that took her breath away. His hips lurched forward, dragging his stiffening cock across her mid section. His thick tongue probed her mouth, causing her to release a deep-throated moan. He lifted Alex off her feet and ground his immense phallus on her moist bikini covered cunt. The erotic dance of lips, tongues, and gyrating hips escalated, leaving them both breathless.

Clay pulled back, lifted Alex in his arms, and headed for the sofa. He gently lowered her before falling back on the inviting softness of the sofa. He pulled out a joint from is sweatshirt pocket and lit it. Without saying a word, he passed her the hand rolled cigarette. They both sat in silence, inhaling deeply, enjoying the high. The only perceptible sound was the crackling logs in the fireplace.

Alex didn't know whether it was the joint or Clay's phone sex, but she was horny. He had finally gotten his way. So be it. Anyway, any available source of resistance had dried up. Vinny had left her alone, vulnerable, aching for sexual intimacy. His mistake, damn him. She had been sexually repressed most of her life, first by her uptight, strict, and devout parents, then by her conservative husband. Tom was a kind and gentle man, emotionally sensitive, but not self-assured and physically domineering. She was definitely drawn to the physical energy of alpha males. First it was the fling with the biker just before her marriage, many years later it was Vinny, and now Clay. The one-night stand with a biker planted the erotic seed, and more than ten years later, Vinny nourished it. She was not going back to her sexually repressed ways.

Clay finished the joint, reached over and pulled Alex close, nuzzling her cheeks, and stroking her thighs. Her skirt had hiked up to her hips, her blouse was partially unbuttoned, and her hoop earrings bobbled as she scooted closer. Alex found Clay to be a great kisser, his thick lips, and soft, but incessant tongue, moved effortlessly in her mouth, sending shivers of delight to her sensitive breasts. Soon his hands were all over her, first massaging her pouting ass, then tweaking her nipples through her blouse and bra.

Within minutes he had shed most of her clothing and was feasting on her swollen tits. His mouth and tongue moved her to the edge of orgasm, even before he stripped her bikini panties. After sucking her tits, he ordered her to stand so he could admire her silky flesh. He yanked hard on her pale blue panties, ripping them before they slid to the floor. He slowly turned her, licking first her quivering ass cheeks, then lightly probing the sensitive rim of her anus, gently flicking his tongue, before turning her and tonguing her clit. He sucked her pussy voraciously, causing her to wobble on her high-heeled sandals. Clay suddenly shoved her down on the sofa, parting her silky thighs, licking and sucking her clit. Moments later she let out a full-throated moan, chanting, then screaming. The living room echoed Alex's throaty voice. "Cuming, cuming, oh shit, I'm cuming."

Clays beard was not unlike Vinny's, trimmed short, and bristly. Clay, however, had no scar and his beard was dark brown, not black. He was bigger than Vinny, muscular legs the size of tree trunks, and massive arms rippling with muscle. He hit the gym religiously. She didn't yet know the size of his cock. She had heard the gossip, but he would have to be gigantic to top Vinny's length and girth.

Clay stood and slowly shed his clothes, taking his time, putting on a real strip show. The theatrics paid off. She was indeed eager to check out his package. She was not disappointed. As he lowered he shorts, a massive cock sprung straight out, causing Alex to flinch. She blinked, but couldn't immediately process its enormity. He moved closer, standing nearly on top of her, pushing his enormous phallus just inches from her gapping mouth. Just above his massive tool was a red and navy blue tattoo. It spelled out "Joystick," in bold script.

"Oh my God." She gasped. She repeated those three words several times before adding, "I don't believe it."

"As I said earlier, phone sex is over. Now for the real thing." Clay sank down beside her and pulled her close for another round of sensual kissing. His kisses were enough to bring her off, but she knew that there was more to come. Vinny was big, but Clay was unnatural. The rumors about his physical prowess had been confirmed. He was indeed hung like a horse.

Clay's thick tongue probed her mouth, playfully engaging her smaller one, sending shivers of delight down her spine, causing her nipples and clit to swell. He lightly chewed on her full lips, then moved down her neck. His hungry mouth found her heaving breasts, sucking first her large nipples, then licking her fleshy melons with sexual abandon.

His right hand found her cunt. He moved slowly, inserting only his index finger. A second finger joined the first as Alex's cunt relaxed. A third finger soon followed, grasping the roof of her love canal, then sliding forward toward the labia. This plunging and grasping movement sent shocks of pure libidinal pleasure throughout her body, causing her nipples to expand, nearly matching the size of the tip of her pinky.

The ringing sounds of the phone pierced their erotic fog, causing Alex to jerk back, waiting for the answering machine to pick up. Vinny's voice intruded on their sexual affair, apologizing for his absence, admitting that he missed her. He promised a romantic rendezvous featuring hot sex when he returned from Boston. "Think of me when you fondle yourself. Later."

"Your loss. Alex has other plans," Clay blurted. He suddenly stood, pulled Alex to her feet, and moved to the staircase. He positioned her on the fourth rung, gently spreading her legs, eventually lowering his head to her clit. He bathed her cunt with copious amounts of saliva, preparing her for his monster. He leaned back, grabbed his thick cock and gently slid it over her labia. He moved the tip in lazy circles, driving Alex nearly insane with physical pleasure. The thought of taking all of him was both frightening and erotic. Vinny's phone call added to the sexual tension—she felt his presence. It was like making love to two men at once.

"You're teasing me." Alex moaned. "Please."

"Tell me what you want."

"You know."

"Come on." Clay's eyes were menacing. He was playing with her.

"I need you."

"Alex, say it."

"I want you, now!"

"Come on Alex, say it."

"Make love to me."

"We're not in love."

"Please, you know what I mean." Alex's pleads had become whines of desperate need.

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