Both of her sons took the semester off so that they could spend as much time with her as possible before she passed away. They lingered at her bedside until she took her last breath. Their father was a shell of a man after her passing. Their sons had to make the funeral arrangements on his behalf.
Sam had loved his wife dearly. She was the focus of his existence. She was his strength. He slid into a heavy darkness after her death. His sons, Evan and Steve, were concerned about their forlorn father. They decided to stay home and see him through this most difficult time.
Evan was the oldest son. He and Steve had a difficult time accepting their mother's passing, and their father even more so. Without their mother's presence, their father regressed to a person his sons did not recognize. He avoided people. He neglected his work at home and on the job. He seemed so empty.
Months passed and Sam was barely speaking to anyone other than his sons. His wife had been his social link. She was the extrovert. She was bold and strong. Without her, he felt like a lost little boy.
The lonely nights were the worst. He and his sons watched television for a couple hours. One night, he was feeling exceptionally low and excused himself to go to bed early. He never felt so alone as he tossed and turned in his bed. When his blurry gaze fell on the dresser, he got an idea. He approached the dresser and opened his wife's bottom drawer. His hands traced the delicate fabrics of her nightgowns and lingerie.
He selected a nightgown. He pulled and tugged until it was covering her pillow. That night, he cuddled the pillow that wore her nightgown. As he drifted off the sleep, he pretended she was sharing the bed with him again.
The harsh alarm stole his peaceful dreams and thrust him into reality. As Sam got ready for work, he longed to save that feeling of being close to his wife. He took a pair of her satin panties and tucked them in his pocket. That way, he could reminisce about her during the day.
Throughout his day at work, he would periodically reach into his pocket and caress the satin panties while thinking about his dear wife. Though it was helpful, he wished he could be constantly reminded of her instead of the moments he took to feel her panties in his pocket.
He slipped into the men's restroom and locked the door. Quickly, he took off his pants and boxers and slipped on his wife's panties. It wasn't easy getting her panties on, but he managed to do so. He put on his clothes over the satin panties. The panties were snug and pinched him a bit, but he felt this would only help him feel close to his wife.
Back at his desk, Sam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was pleased at the constant reminder of his wife. When the workday was finished, he hurried home intent on touching his wife's clothing and thinking about her. He noticed that this was the first time he had looked forward to anything since she died.
Once in his bedroom, he locked the door. He took his time going through her things. He undressed and tried on some of her clothing. He couldn't fit into everything, but he found a rose-colored cotton dress that fit him well enough.
He sat on his bed, wearing the dress. He was mesmerized by his memories of her smile and soft touch. He stroked the dress as he remembered her. From her closet, he took a flowered silk scarf that matched the dress. He adjusted it around his neck. He loved the feel of the silk against his neck. The silk was soft like her touch.
He paused at the realization that he would have to take the clothing off before his sons got home. His sons were probably at a friend's house and would return soon. He knew they were concerned about him and would not leave him alone long enough to enjoy wearing his wife's clothes.
"Well, it is my house. If this makes me feel better, they might be happy for me," he told himself. He knew he was only kidding himself, but he was desperate for justification.
Sam emerged from his room. He had a strong desire to do some of the things that his wife would do around the house. He fetched a dusting cloth and spray from under the kitchen sink. He moved from room to room dusting anything that caught his attention. For the first time since his wife's death, he felt at peace.
He hummed as he dusted. It felt as if his wife was with him again. His humming was interrupted by the sound of the back door. He froze as he heard his sons' voices.
"Dad! What are you doing?" Evan scolded.
Steve stood speechless with a horrified look on his face. The boys stared at their father. They couldn't believe their father would wear their mother's clothes. The boys were deeply concerned that their father had gone crazy with grief.
"Boys, I guess we should talk," their father suggested.
They sat in the living room. Sam rubbed the fabric of the dress as if trying to reconnect with the courage that his wife had always given him. Keeping his head down, he began.
"You know how I've struggled since your mom died. Well, this is the first time I have felt alive since she died. Maybe this is what I need right now. Wearing these clothes makes me feel like your mom is with me again," he explained.
"But, Dad, this is crazy!" Steve cried.
"It is different, I admit that. But, for now, I need your support to get through this. I deserve your respect no matter what I wear," Sam said.
"Does it really make you feel close to mom?" Evan asked.
"I have never felt closer to your mom since she died," Sam explained.
"Dad, we'll try to give you some space to deal with mom's death in your own way, but I have to admit that this worries me," Steve said.
"Thank you, Boys," Sam said.
His sons watched their father leave the room. They heard their father moving things around in the kitchen.
"Can you believe this?" Steve asked Evan.
"He's just confused right now. He's hurting. I think we just need to let him go," Evan reasoned.
"Maybe he is just missing having a female in the house. What if Tara stayed here for awhile?" Steve suggested.
"Hmmm... maybe it would help. It's worth a try. I know she's our friend, but this is a lot to ask. Do you think she'll do it?" Evan asked.
"Well, let's go talk to her," said Steve.
The boys left the house, pausing briefly to watch their father cleaning the kitchen cabinets.
"I hope this works," Steve whispered as they left the house.
For over an hour, the boys explained their situation to their friend, Tara. Eventually, she conceded to their plan and went home with them after packing a few things. Their father was still dressed in his wife's dress when they returned.
"Hi, Mr. Perkins," Tara greeted Sam.
"Hi, Tara," Sam said as he fumbled the laundry he was folding.
"It's okay, Mr. Perkins. Evan and Steve explained it to me," Tara said in her sweet, soothing voice.
At a loss for words, Sam nodded.
"Can I help you with that?" Tara offered.
"Thank you, but it's okay. Why don't you go ahead and join the boys?"
"That's okay. I think I'll get settled in. The boys thought maybe you could use some help. I'll stay here for a few days. Steve gave me his room while I'm here. I hope that's okay with you," Tara explained.
"Oh, yes, fine," Sam said.
After Tara put her things away, she cooked dinner. She made a simple dinner of spaghetti. The family and Tara had pleasant conversation during dinner. Each of them avoided talking about Sam's attire.
Sam helped Tara do the dishes after dinner. He couldn't help but notice her young, attractive figure. At one point, she reached behind him. Her breasts grazed against his back. He froze and thought about the numerous times his wife's mere presence turned him on. He became aroused remembering his wife and their lustful relationship. Embarrassed by his arousal, he excused himself and retired to his bedroom.
He locked his bedroom door and flung himself on the bed in despair. After sobbing, he took off the dress and put on one of his wife's nightgowns. The gentle fabric clung to his body. He had just laid down when there was a knock at his bedroom door.
Afraid his boys had heard his crying, he unlocked the door to let them know he was fine. When he opened the door, he saw that it was Tara who had knocked. She was holding a small pile of laundry.
"I just thought I'd put these away for you," Tara explained.
Sam held the bedroom door open for her. He watched as she put things in his drawer. Instead of leaving when she finished, she sat on his bed.
"Tell me about your wife," Tara urged.
"Well, you knew her. We've known you since you were a small child," Sam said.
"Yes, but I only know her as my friends' mother. Tell me what you loved about her," Tara said.
"Oh, this could take awhile. I loved everything about her. She was my strength and my best friend. Her smile was my light. She was everything to me," he said.
"And in the bedroom?" Tara asked slyly.
"Tara! You surprise me! Of course, we had a loving marriage. I will never make love to another woman. She's gone. That's all there is to it."
"But, Mr. Perkins, you are too young to think that way," Tara said.
"Well, it's sad, but true. I could never love someone like I loved her," Sam said as he absentmindedly put his hand on Tara's thigh. "Oh, sorry," he said as he quickly withdrew his hand.
Tara held his hand and put it back on her thigh. She pressed his hand against her.
"I'm here to help you in any way that I can," Tara said.
Sam pulled away from her and put his hands on his lap. He slowly smoothed the tight nightgown downwards.
Tara put her hand on Sam's lap. "I won't push you, but if you want, you could pretend I was her," Tara offered.
Sam inhaled deep. He had caught himself thinking about how Tara's figure reminded him of his wife. Though Tara was only eighteen, she had the round, full curves his wife had. Her luscious, young breasts formed cleavage that was familiar to him.
"Would you like to try?" Tara asked.
Sam nodded. He watched Tara as she stood in front of him and started to undress.
"Do you mind if I light a candle and turn out the light so that I can picture my wife better?" Sam asked.
"I don't mind at all. This is for you."
Sam adjusted the lighting and sat on the bed to watch Tara finish undressing. He pictured his wife. He had often watched his wife undress. Tara slowly unhooked her bra and clutched it in front before allowing it to fall to the floor. She pushed her panties down her legs to the floor.
Sam struggled to remove the tight nightgown. Tara helped him. He was nude underneath it. Tara kneeled on the floor in front of him. He yielded to her wet mouth. His wife had always taken pleasure in feeling him get harder in her mouth. Sam pretended that his wife's expert lips were gliding over his hardening cock.
Tara sucked and licked the length of his cock. She allowed her saliva to coat his hardness. His cock glistened in the candlelight. Sam watched as she sucked him in and released him only to suck him in harder.
When Tara stood, Sam kneeled on the bed. She took her place on the bed. Sam kneeled between her legs. He kissed her stomach. He parted her slit with his fingers. His tongue sought out her clit. He licked her sweet, young flesh. Sucking on her clit, he slipped a finger inside her moistness. She gasped and moaned. Sam smiled. His wife had always vocally expressed her pleasure during sex. It was nice that Tara was doing the same.
He moved over her until his cock pressed against her pussy. He rubbed the head of his cock against her clit before shoving the length of his cock into her. Tara gasped loudly. She moaned and whimpered as he thrust into her. He felt Tara's tightening wetness around his cock.
Imagining his wife, Sam paused to nibble Tara's nipples. He gently clenched her nipple between his teeth before thrusting into her. He sucked on her hard nipple as he pounded her pussy. Letting go of her nipple, he thrust harder into her. Tara gripped his back and whimpered as she clamped onto his cock in ecstasy. He grunted, shuddered, and came. He collapsed on the bed beside her.
Tara got up from the bed briefly. Wearing Sam's wife's nightgown, she returned to Sam's side. Sam wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. That night, he held onto his wife.