The Winsome Widow

"Alex," I heard Riley breathe beside me.

I had held the goddess longer than any of the others but still I felt disinclined to let her go. A powerful machinery inside me had begun to turn over; it had started with the warm flush, but now I could feel my nipples tingling and a wet warmth in my loins. I took one last opportunity to stroke her exposed breast and felt a direct electric connection from her nipple, though my finger, up my arm and down to my sex; I knew that given another thirty seconds with her in my hands that I would come without ever having touched myself.

Reluctantly I passed her to my left; almost prising my hands off her slim form, fighting the desire to keep her for myself until the hot promise that had begun to burn in my loins was fulfilled. When finally I released her, I could still feel the connection; it was fading as she moved away from me but still there and tingling in my fingertips. My heart racing, I could hear my own breath coming in gasps and I caught Riley looking at me from the corner of my eye. I watched the goddess as she completed the circle and was placed in the centre of the table, and then I concentrated on controlling my breathing lest it develop into moans that would betray my gender.

"It might amuse you to know," Johanssen began, "that The Winsome Widow began not as a storytelling club, but as a Bridge foursome. Of course we did not have the club name at the time, but we met in this very house; Waterhouse, Bachman, myself, and the owner of this building at the time, Mr David Adley.

"This was in fact Adley's primary residence, one that he shared with his lovely bride, Evelyn. You can see her captivating portrait behind me, so I need not spend too much time describing to you the depth of her allure, except to say that it was surpassed only by the beauty of her soul. To meet her, even a blind man would be smitten by her first word before ever he felt the delight of her touch. As a young man in my twenties, I myself admit to a certain crush; a jealousy on the part of my dear friend Adley, and doubtless the same was true for Waterhouse and Bachman.

"It will not surprise you to learn that our Bridge night was the last Thursday of each month. It is customary for a Bridge foursome to comprise two couples; however Evelyn had no love for the game and the rest of us were all bachelors at the time. Evelyn would serve us drinks when we arrived, usually attired in some exquisite gown that clung to her perfect curves, and then she would retire, leaving us men to discuss our day before moving into this very room for the card game.

"Every month we would cycle partners in an unspoken pact to discourage the development of secret signs that would enable cheating during the bidding phase. Waterhouse was by far the most skilful player and would inevitably win when paired with myself or Bachman, however the most closely fought matches came when he was paired with Adley.

"I don't mean to suggest that Adley was a poor Bridge player; in fact the opposite was true; the man possessed a stunning intellect and a photographic memory that lent him a tremendous advantage in the game. The problem, you see, was in the playful nature of his young wife. We never discussed it but I have no doubt that Waterhouse and Bachman were also aware of Evelyn's presence in the room, even though to this day I do not know whether Adley thought we remained ignorant.

"You see, after Evelyn had served us drinks, she would retreat to this room and secret herself beneath the tablecloth. With a flair for the dramatic, she would wait until her husband had a hand that compelled him to bid aggressively, and then she would move between his legs and pleasure him, timing her most sensuous stokes with his turn at the bid.

"As distracting as it was to play cards to the wet sounds of Adley's manhood sliding down the throat of his beautiful wife, not one of us ever challenged him on the matter, such was the erotic allure of the act performed under the innocent veil of a gentlemen's card game. At the end of the evening we three would leave with painful erections and farcically walk in three different directions to one of the many brothels – illegal in those days, of course – that dotted the Kings Cross and Potts Point landscape.

"The conclusion of this part of the tale is, I'm afraid, as predictable as it is true. The timing of our Bridge night on the last Thursday of the month was quite practical for me as my salary at that time was paid in cash on the first day of the month. Not that we played for money, of course, but my visits to local whore houses after Bridge had become rather habit forming and the poor state of my fiscal liquidity by the end of the month was sometimes the encouragement I needed to abstain from the pleasures offered by Kings Cross's superior knocking shops, although I hasten to add that sometimes it simply meant that I would darken the door of one of the less reputable establishments instead.

"On the night in question, Adley caught me counting my billfold and – asking me if I was planning a purchase – I found I was unable to lie and settled for the lesser sin of omission; I told him that I was planning to go out afterwards and was checking that I had sufficient funds, which of course was all entirely true. The Adleys were quite wealthy and for a moment I was afraid that David would embarrass me by offering a loan; I still blush at the thought, not because of the state of my own affairs, but because I thought so lowly of my friend to believe he would do such a thing in the company of others.

"'Well,' he said cryptically, 'perhaps we can save you some of your money.' At the time I had no idea what he meant, although in the context of my story I suppose that you all have my advantage. Adley seemed inclined not to pursue the conversation and I was more than happy to avoid further discussion regarding my plans after I left his house, so we spoke of other things until it was time to play.

"Adley always sat in the same place for cards and the rest of us would change positions to make up the pairs; but on this occasion as we entered the drawing room he took the seat opposite, claiming that a change of perspective might bring him a change of luck. As I was to be his partner for the evening, I took his place here beneath the mantle and from opposite me, Adley smiled winningly and tipped me a wink, which of course I did not understand at the time, although I soon would.

Johanssen paused and looked around the table. "I feel as though the rest of this story is redundant in its predictability, but for the sake of tradition I will continue. There is much more to come afterwards and perhaps you will find those parts of the tale more interesting." He coughed twice into his hand and Stevens materialised as if from nowhere with a glass of water.

"Thank you, Stevens," Johanssen spent a few moments visibly regathering his thoughts as eleven pairs of eyes watched him patiently; predictable as the story may be, his oratory skills were exceptional and I for one wanted for nothing more than to listen to him reveal the secret of the beautiful wife beneath the table and her subsequent pleasuring of the wrong man.

The anticipation alone was making me tingle and I wasn't the only one; a couple of men took the opportunity to lean forward and touch the stone idol in the middle of the table. With a thrill of excitement, I copied them and once again felt that surge of warmth flood through my body and then contract like a hot sun to a point deep in the core of my womanhood where it burned with erotic heat.

"Waterhouse won the contract for the first hand; however Adley and I made the best of our inferior cards and managed to thwart him by a trick. In the hand that followed, Adley opened with a bid of One Club and I was delighted to note that I held the King and Ten in that suit as well as two more spot cards and some high ranking cards in other suits.

"Bachman raised us to One Heart and I had no hesitation calling Two Clubs in support of Adley's opening bid. In my excitement at winning the opening hand and receiving such promising cards for the second, I had completely forgotten Evelyn's delightfully playful habit of hiding beneath the table; but it came back to me in a forceful rush when I felt a light touch on the inside of each knee, gently forcing my legs apart.

"Well, gentlemen, here was a conundrum; what to do? I flatter myself to believe that I was thinking clearly at the time – even though it is likely that my reptile brain took over at the instant of Evelyn's first touch – but the choices as they presented themselves to me were these: I could expose Evelyn and thereby embarrass her and Adley both, thus jeopardising our friendship (remember gentlemen, this was circa 1960; free love and sex parties were still several years in the future); or I could attempt to silently alert Evelyn to the fact that I was not her husband, which I suppose is what I should have done; or I could savour the moment and allow her to continue and discover for herself, for it seemed probable that she would do exactly that at any moment.

"Did I make a choice? Really, what choice could I make? This woman had been the subject of so many of my private fantasies and now one of them was playing out as if it was directly fed from my own imagination. Gentlemen, if you think you may have done differently, then I put it to you that you have never had the woman of your dreams kneeling between your legs and slipping her delicate hand into your fly.

"And this is precisely the situation in which I found myself; to this day – and I have replayed these moments in my head many times – I do not have any recollection of Evelyn even unzipping me, nor of her freeing me from my underwear. To my memory, there seems to be no space of time between the moment she opened my legs and the next when she closed her small hand around my shaft.

"Somehow the bidding continued; I believe that I may have raised one more time, but that was instinct; I was virtually incapable of even seeing the cards in my own hand, let alone counting potential winners or intuiting the likely strength of Adley's hand. With each new bid Evelyn squeezed me, flooding my cock with fresh supplies of blood and bringing me to a degree of hardness that I scarcely believed possible. I slid down in my chair to give her better access and she instantly took it, sliding her fist all the way to the base of my shaft and massaging me with an action more befitting a milking maid than the urban lady that she was.

"All thoughts of calling some kind of halt to her game were forgotten; either she couldn't tell the difference between cocks in the darkness beneath the table, or – and at the time I preferred this idea – she discovered that she was milking the wrong cock too late to do anything about it and good manners forced her to continue to the logical conclusion.

"Anyway, Adley won the contract for us – something insane like Four No Trumps – and play began. It was a mercy that I was the dummy for the hand; I found new respect for my friend that he was capable of playing cards in this condition, because I certainly was not; with my hand face up, I simply played out the cards that Adley called, but I was caught on at least three occasions playing the wrong one.

As the game progressed, Evelyn introduced her other hand, warmly cupping my balls and gently squeezing them while she massaged that sensitive place behind, all the while stroking with painstaking slowness up and down my shaft, squeezing with alternate fingers until I reflexively strained my cock whereby she would hold it in a death grip at the base, trapping the excess blood flow and making it throb with the painful need for release.

"With two tricks to play, Adley had the lead but we had already lost the few tricks that we could afford. As he led his second to last card – the King of Diamonds – Evelyn picked up her pace, stoking me faster and longer, gripping my balls tighter and rubbing the pre-cum around the tip of my cock with each upstroke. I could feel the gathering climax in my balls and I felt a moment of panic at the mess that I knew I must create. I was entirely at her mercy, either she would make me ejaculate over my trousers, which would make for an embarrassing exit at the close of the evening; or she would allow me to cum all over her; and gentlemen, I don't mind telling you that the mental image of the exquisite Mrs Adley crouched beneath the table in her evening gown with my cock in her hands while she sprayed my seed over her beautiful face tipped me over the edge.

"Adley collected the penultimate trick and played the Jack of Diamonds, which Bachman could not follow and nor could I; but as I played my card, my balls swelled massively, causing me crab forwards in my chair and shoot my card across the table. As Adley retrieved it and placed it on the trick, I felt Evelyn's soft, painted lips close around the head of my cock, and as she sucked me smoothly and deeply in the warm, heavenly recesses of her mouth, my balls released and I pumped what felt like one long continuous stream of cum into her throat. I groaned with the release in chorus with Adley right as Waterhouse played the winning Queen, thereby depriving us of the contract, and then I sat back reeling with the ecstasy of Evelyn's fingers and tongue milking the last few drops of spunk from my wilting member.

The story was so wonderfully vivid; as a woman I was relating to the actions of Evelyn rather than those of the young Johanssen, but even so, as he told the tale I felt my legs open involuntarily as if unseen hands forced them apart and felt my clitoris burn with imagined contact of my own secret lover beneath the table.

Johanssen paused for another sip of water and I took the opportunity to reach for the idol once again. I was fully aroused by this time and felt my own secretions freely lubricating my pussy lips and they rubbed together deliciously as I moved in my seat. Grasping the goddess tightly in one hand, I pressed the perfect curve of her buttocks into my palm and stroked my thumb over her flat stomach, up and down, touching the underside of her exposed breast as rivers of fire coursed up my arm and directly down into my sex, sending fresh floods of juices welling from my opening.

The burning in my pussy was building to an unbearable level and I almost dropped the idol, causing it to wobble on the table as I sat back, my back arching as I writhed against my chair, loving the gentle abrasion of my wet panties against the engorged, open folds of my pussy.

My mind was spinning; after the extraordinary sex with Evan and then Riley's assertions of magic at work in The Winsome Widow, I was already half convinced that there was some supernatural power at work even before I arrived at the club. Any residual doubts I may have harboured were fully dispelled when I first touched the idol, and by this point in Johanssen's tale I was a complete convert. It was plain to me that some unearthly force was acting through the idol, but exactly what was it doing? It was as though it was amplifying the story and beaming it directly into my brain, bypassing my ears. In a strange way, it seemed that I was feeling what Johanssen felt, but as a woman I had no frame of reference for the sensations he described in his cock, and as a result they were imperfectly translated.

Johanssen continued with the story.

"If I ever believed the fantasy of mistaken identity then Evelyn quickly dispelled it by continuing her game just as Bachman shuffled the cards and continued ours. Releasing my limp cock from her mouth, she moved backwards and untied my right shoe, removing both it and my sock to leave me barefoot. Guiding me with a firm hand, she crossed my legs at the knee and then with a whisper of satin I felt her mount my raised right foot and press the wet warmth of her womanhood into my instep. She raised my trouser leg and – closing her arms around my calf – she hugged me close and I felt the swell of her naked breasts first open around my knee and then envelop me in their soft warmth as she squeezed them between her arms. Slowly pumping her hips, she rubbed her steaming slit up and down the length of my foot, grinding and writhing and forcing her outer labia to peel open against the hard knob of bone on the top of my foot.

"Flexing my leg, I kicked up, lifting her knees off the floor as she buried her face in the meat of my thigh to stifle a scream. I bounced her like this, eight, ten, a dozen times, and felt her copious juices running down my foot and coating my toes, and so I wiggled them just to feel the erotic essence of her sex sliding between them. Although not my intention, I felt my great toe slide frictionlessly between the cheeks of her ass and she stiffened and froze in her wanton fucking of my foot. Thinking that I had overstepped the parameters of this encounter, I removed my toe only to have Evelyn buck angrily against my leg, squeezing my calf in frustration.

"Experimentally, I slid my toe back between her firm cheeks and sat in stunned wonder, playing random cards on random tricks while she ground on the tip of my toe (the nail trimmed mercifully short) until she brought me to the opening of her asshole. Before I knew what she was doing, she slipped me effortlessly into her back passage and then, incredibly, gave me the 'giddy up' gesture by pumping her hips and squeezing her thighs around my foot.

"I resumed bouncing her and lifting her off the floor until I felt her stiffening against my leg, arching and straining and pushing my toe deeper into her tight ass as she ground her soaking pussy against my foot. A moment later and Evelyn clenched her sphincter and her thighs and bucked against my knee in the throes of orgasm as I felt her ejaculate in a warm flood over my foot. Sliding me gently out of her ass, she opened my thighs again and slowly and lovingly, she kissed and sucked my cock back to life.

I related more closely to the story of Evelyn pleasuring herself, and I found that as Johanssen described each part of the story, I was able to follow along in my imagination, channelling the power of the idol so that I actually felt my own pussy lips peeling back and the instep of an unseen stranger's foot gliding effortlessly up and down my steaming slit.

I recoiled as he came to the part about the anal toe-fucking – I have never felt an attraction for anal sex – but it was as though I could feel Evelyn's pleasure and experience her need, and as she brought his toe to her tight rear entrance, the moment overcame me; I relaxed my muscles and felt a delicious fullness enter my virgin ass.

With that wriggling digit tickling my sensitive little back door and the hard saddle of an imaginary foot opening my aching lips, I allowed Evelyn's spirit to take me completely; I felt her orgasm building in my own core and as she climaxed, so did I; my own come gushing from my hot, open cunt and running down my thighs.

It was all I could do not to scream; holding my breath and pinching my eyes closed; I just held on and waited for the fiery eruptions in my core to subside until I could draw a shaky breath again with some measure of control.

Opening my eyes, I carefully scanned around to check who had seen me come, but everyone was listening in rapt attention as Johanssen described Evelyn's second round of cock-sucking. With some trepidation, I reached beneath the table to see how much of a mess I had made of my trousers and I could scarcely believe what I found; nothing! Just some wetness from my earlier secretions on my panties, but no ejaculation, even though I had felt it gushing down my thighs in a flood.