The Winsome Widow

"Evan!" I gasped, my hand over my mouth with shock and a ridiculous (considering the circumstances) fear of discovery, sitting as I was beneath the table with no disguise. But oddly, he didn't even look at me; he just knelt there, his cock thick and hard and pulsing with promising intent, calmly looking at Evelyn.

"Evan?" I snapped my fingers at him, but he still ignored me.

"He won't respond to you in this state," Evelyn said. "He's mine alone for now, although afterwards he won't remember me, just the feelings we share." I watched jealously as Evelyn beckoned with her hand again and Evan leaned down and kissed her softly, matching her movements as she opened her mouth to him. Without breaking the kiss, she took his erect cock in her hand and slowly lay back on the floor, drawing him along with her.

Evelyn lifted her knees and the black satin swam down the length of her thighs to pool at her waist. I saw a flash of panties and then with a tiny flourish of her free hand they disappeared as Evelyn brought the thick head of Evan's cock to her entrance; touching it once, twice to her pussy lips to part them, her juices glistening on his throbbing purple head. With a third touch to her open sex, she seated him in her steaming hole and released his shaft, and then clasping both hands around his backside, she drew him into her, gasping and voicing a low moan as Evan's thick, pulsing rod glided all the way to the hilt in a single, fluid movement.

Touching down softly on her smooth, shaved labia, Evan pulled most of the way out and thrust gently back inside, withdrawing once again at the gentlest of touches of his hard pubis against her softly glowing pussy lips. I could tell from Evelyn's mounting cries at the bottom of each stroke that his cock head was probing her cervix, breathlessly teasing her to a higher state of arousal.

My jealousy of Evelyn taking my ex boyfriend – the man I still loved – had melted away instantly with the erotic joy of voyeurism. I had never watched a couple having sex before and was surprised at how erotic it felt. Spellbound, I gaped at Evelyn's tiny opening stretched rudely around Evan's thick manhood; her pink folds rippling over the bulging veins and ridges that glistened with her juices. At the top of every stroke I could see Evelyn's opening contract as she flexed her muscles; closing up her soft sheath and holding it tight for Evan's iron manhood to open anew with the next thrust.

Without thinking what I was doing, I moved behind Evan and closed my arms around his broad chest, hugging him to my breasts and resting my chin on his shoulder. With an extra squeeze, I felt the power of the idol coursing through me and joining us; first mentally, as I channelled his manly lust, and then physically as with another dizzy lurch my body melted and merged into his.

I could feel Evan in there with me; we both heard Evelyn's soft cries as she approached orgasm and we both felt the hot paradise of her love canal squeezing down on his cock; but it was me in the driver's seat for now.

And oh, the ecstasy! Evelyn's wonderful heat tightly gripping what felt like a billion nerve endings in his cock ... MY cock, making them sing in a harmony of lust; the sublime friction as I pulled out of that silken sheath and the feeling of conquest as I drove back in, touching down on her cervix and making her cry out in mounting desire; it was so raw and powerful and animal and utterly unlike a woman's experience of being fucked.

Still fucking her slowly and deeply, I brushed the gown's strap off her shoulder and pulled down the bodice to expose a full and perfect breast; I kissed around the nipple, feeling goose bumps rise beneath my lips, and then gently sucked her nipple into my mouth, compressing and nibbling the tip to Evelyn's obvious delight as she ran her hands up my powerful body and twined her long fingers though my hair.

"I'm ready, my love," she gasped, her back arching and legs quivering with the galloping approach of her climax. I felt Evan's cock swell to the sound his lover's voice and he took back some of my control with a low, animal grunt; pushing into her more forcefully and mashing his pubis into her delicate labia. Oh my goodness; now THIS is fucking! With thrusting hips we drove Evan's eight inches into her tiny, tight canal; his knob pounding mercilessly into her cervix and his balls now coated with glistening pussy juice and slapping wetly against the tight cheeks of her ass as he (we?) lifted her off the floor with the sheer force of the impact on her poor, battered pussy lips.

Evelyn quivered and finally came, her mouth open in a silent scream as she wrapped her heels around Evan's muscular thighs; fighting against his final thrusts and greedily trying to keep his cock deep inside her as she shook with the intensity of her climax. His breath coming in ragged gasps, Evan jerked and strained forwards, his thick glowing muscles twitching along his arms and down his back; and then with a cry he was coming – WE were coming – too. Like a trough before a powerful wave I felt his balls contract up towards the base of his cock, and then bulge outwards again as he delivered thick ropes of creamy seed deep into the hot core of Evelyn's womanhood. With her own climax winding down, Evelyn softened against him and released her locked heels from behind his thighs, allowing me to stroke Evan's cock slowly in and out, basking in the fading heat of our coupling as the combined juices of our lovemaking pumped weakly out around our junction and coated Evelyn's glowing labia in a sticky, beautiful mess.

Evelyn dismissed Evan with a wave and his astral form melted back into the physical body sitting at the table, leaving us together in a lovers' embrace with me back in my own astral body again.

She smiled at me without the least sign of self-consciousness. "Do you want to try now?" she began.

"God, yes!" I breathed. The thought of sex without consequences was too delicious not to try. "How do I do it?"

"Just concentrate on the one you want," she said, pulling her evening gown back down over her thighs. "And then take him."

She made it sound so easy. We disengaged and – sitting up – I concentrated on the chair facing me, raising my hand in the same beckoning gesture as Evelyn had used.

"No!" she cried desperately, grabbing my wrist and pulling it away. "Not that one! We never take the men in tweed!"

Aha! This made perfect sense; the guys who wanted a more sedate evening at The Winsome Widow wore a tweed jacket as a signal to Evelyn to leave them alone. That's why Riley wanted me in tweed! He didn't want me to get the deluxe treatment. Little did he know that Evelyn couldn't be fooled, she knew from the outset that there was a woman at the table.

Now that it was pointed out, I could see the tweed flaps of Johanssen's jacket hanging by his hips and looking at Evelyn I saw a deep sadness in her eyes.

"What is it?" I asked with genuine concern.

"It was David," she whispered sadly. "He was wearing a tweed jacket when I ... when he..."

She touched my hand and I felt that electric transfer of knowledge as she had done earlier; I saw Evelyn using her astral form to pleasure her husband and his friends; David begging off early and going to bed, rubbing his chest; and then Evelyn crying out in the night, holding her husband's lifeless form in their marital bed.

Oh my goodness, the poor woman. After all these years she blames herself for her husband's death, which was doubtless nothing more than a heart attack; very probably a defect that could have erupted at any time.

She took both of my hands in hers and leaned her head close to mine, kissing me softly on the corner of my mouth. "Don't favour just one," she said. "Use them equally ... and be careful." And with a final kiss, her image faded and disappeared.

Alone now beneath the table, I paused for a few minutes to tune back into the end of Johanssen's story – actually it was Adley's story – about the origins of the idol and their use of it in the house that was to become The Winsome Widow.

It was becoming clear from the narrative that the men really were like cattle; they had no idea of its true power. Johanssen knew of Adley's death, but were ignorant of Evelyn's continued presence in the house; as far as he knew, she disappeared weeks after her husband's death and the evergreen Stevens appeared as administrator of the Adley Family Trust ... the very same Stevens who still appears to be a young man after all these years. Another mystery!

My libido was decidedly cooler after learning of Evelyn's tragic loss and the thought of all the years she had spent as a widow. As tempted as I was to summon one of the men to fuck me – hell, I was tempted to summon all of them for a gangbang – I resisted and like Evelyn, I felt myself fade and rejoin my physical body at the table just as Johanssen was winding up the story.

"And there you have it gentlemen: the known history of The Winsome Widow, as incomplete as it is." Johanssen sipped his water and looked around the table with a knowing smile. "Mr Farrer, I perceive that The Widow has been kind to you tonight; perhaps you can add an extra chapter when you re-tell the story fifty years from now." He turned his gaze to me and I acknowledged him with a nod and a smile. "Mr Barrow. I trust that you are past any earlier misgivings. Your maiden visit wasn't too unsettling, I hope?"

"Fine, thank you," I croaked, covering my mouth. There were a few sniggers around the table from men mistaking my disguised voice for a kind of overwhelmed surprise.

"Well then," he continued. "I think that is all I can tell you. I'm quite certain I shan't see The Winsome Widow again. I fear that I am not too far behind poor Waterhouse; so gentlemen, when my time comes, I hope you will all drink to my memory and continue to enjoy The Winsome Widow's many mysteries."

On our way out, Stevens appeared at the door with our jackets and coats, dressing each of us in turn and farewelling us with a formal "Goodnight."

Stevens held out my tweed jacket and I turned my back to him to slip it on. I was just thinking to myself how very visible he looked in the dim lighting of the vestibule and then he leaned in close to whisper in my ear. "Thank you Alex; it was lovely to have company."

"Ev...?" I almost blurted her name but managed to stop myself as Stevens tipped me a wink.

"Goodnight, Mr Barrow," he said in his usual manly voice.

I nodded politely in response, too surprised to make an attempt at my own man's voice.

Evan walked past me as I waited for Riley and I instinctively reached out to touch his elbow as he passed.

"I beg your pardon?" he asked politely as he turned around. "Did you say something?"

"No," I husked, shaking my head and suppressing a smile.

"Huh! Could have sworn I heard a voice," he said, mostly to himself.

Riley dropped me off at my apartment. He wanted to come up – and I knew why, part of me wanted it too – but I sent him home to his wife with an apology; hopefully it would save me my job.

Standing in front of the mirror, I peeled off my beard and my wig, unpinned my hair, unwound the strapping to release my poor, aching breasts, and finally became a woman again.

I heard the doorbell ring as I stepped out of the shower and shrugged into my robe to answer the door.

"Alex, I ... I don't know what I'm doing here."

"I called you, honey," I smiled. "Don't you remember?"

"I've been to the club tonight," he said, his face still a mask of confusion. "I remember leaving ... and then suddenly I was here. Are we still fighting?"

"Don't be silly," I said, taking his hand and leading him inside. "You don't need to tell me about the club. Just love me." I took him into my arms and we kissed, slow and deep; and with a snap of my fingers our clothes all fell in a heap on the floor. Oh, I could get used to this!

"Alex Wheeler?"

"Who's asking?" I said; the man at my door wasn't someone I recognised. He looked a bit like a lawyer and countless episodes of TV legal dramas had instilled an irrational caution against the possibility of being subpoenaed, regardless of how unlikely that was to ever happen to me.

"My name is Hugh Riversdale," he said, producing a card. "I'm the executor of Evelyn Adley's will."

"Oh?" I didn't know what to say. "Yes, I'm Alex Wheeler." Now I was really curious. "I only met Evelyn once. I didn't even know she died."

"Ms Wheeler, I have some exciting news for you," he explained, brandishing a manila folder of papers. Geez, this guy really missed his calling as a grief counsellor! "You have been appointed sole trustee of the Adley Family Trust."

I think my mouth was hanging open.

"What?"

"It entails a generous salary and a private residence in Potts Point," he smiled. "There are a few conditions regarding the use of the residence, but it's only once a month; I don't think you'll find it too onerous."

"Evan!" I called, turning around with a smile. "I have some good news!"