A Gentleman and the Widow

"I had a wonderful time, tonight. I'm sorry it has to end," I leaned into him and whispered as we rode the elevator.

"You have no idea how I want you." He grabbed me and kissed me with a passion I forgot existed. Pushed against the wall of the elevator, he ravished my mouth as his hands ravished my body.

I felt my hem go up and my panties go down. I struggled, pushing against him, "No! Not here."

He continued his plundering of my body and I was lost. I wanted to remain proper, but my body responded to him and I couldn't stop. Fortunately there was no one else on the elevator; I would have died of embarrassment. We came to a stop and I panicked and pulled my skirt back down over my exposed body. As the doors opened I realized we were at our floor and as luck would have it, no one was waiting to get on.

I stumbled out, flushed from the encounter. Thomas stepped out into the hall next to me and gathered me in his arms to carry me to our rooms. There were no questions, no requests, just a strong and passionate need. He carried me over the threshold and put me on the bed. It didn't take thirty seconds for him to get my panties the rest of the way off and his pants opened.

He stood by the bed, looking at me as he reached and grabbed my hips and pulled me to him. I felt the head of his penis push against me; it sent a jolt of electricity through my body as he guided it in. I wrapped my legs around him and pulled him toward me. He slid in with ease; I was as ready for him as he was for me. He lifted my hips up and left my shoulders on the bed as he built his tempo. He filled me time and time again and my muscles clenched with each stroke.

The final wave broke over both of us at the same time. My hips thrust up as he made his final push. I locked my legs behind him and held on. It ended all too quickly. I laid on the bed, looking up at him; he stood there, knees braced on the edge of the bed, taking deep breaths, head tilted back, eyes closed. "Oh. My. God. Woman." was all he had to say.

I dropped my legs and he stood up straight, I felt empty when he moved away from me. He turned and walked to the bathroom. When he came back he was wearing a robe. I hadn't moved.

"I started a bath," he held his hands out to me, "come on, let me help you."

I sat up, still shaking from the emotions roiling in me. I took off my shoes, slipped off the garter and stockings, and stood up. He steadied me as I removed my skirt, top, and bra. Then he wrapped me in his robe with him as we both went to the bathroom. He helped me step in and settle in the soothing warm water and bubbles. He knelt beside the tub and watched me.

It wasn't long before he was washing my body. He took his time with the wash cloth, gently washing my shoulders and chest as I rested in the tub. When he finished with my front he had me sit up and he washed my back. Then he let the water out and had me stand, using a cup he poured water over my shoulders to rinse me. When he was satisfied with his work, he helped me out and toweled me dry. I couldn't remember the last time I felt so pampered.

We spent the rest of the night cuddling with each other. I fell asleep wrapped in his arms listening to his heart beat. I am not sure when it happened. I felt him behind me, and he was hard again. I lifted my one leg to help and encourage his entrance from the rear. He rubbed his cock on my pussy lips, humping me, and when I responded with the needed wetness he directed his head into me. This was a slow and gentle ride, as comfortable as a rocking boat, no urgency, no insecurities, just a drawn-out and easy love making. Our climaxes came with shudders of ecstasy and we fell asleep wrapped in each other.

The morning broke with sunshine streaming in the room. We were sated and behaved as if we traveled together for years. Our morning movements were like clockwork, a kiss, a touch, and then packing and getting ready to leave. Breakfast came, we lingered over coffee, touching hands. Neither of us wanted it to end.

We left our rooms, rode the elevator together and checked out. The valet brought Thomas' car first. A hug and kiss, he pressed me up against his car. "I don't want to go, you know," he breathed into my neck as he kissed his way to my collar bone.

"I know. I don't either."

"Be safe driving home. I worry you know."

"I know. You too." I trailed my hand on his shoulder through the open window. "You'll call me when you get home?"

"You bet, Widow."

I stood and watched as he drove away. My car arrived. I stowed my luggage and got in. The time we spent together played over and over again in my mind as I drove home.

A few hours later, I was home and settled, I turned on the news. There was a report of a 50 car pile up, casualties and fatalities. They were still cleaning up the mess. More than 20 people had been taken to area hospitals. I swore I saw Thomas' car in the wreckage, but it could be any one's mangled blue sedan, it didn't have to be his.

I waited for the phone to ring. Nothing. I went to bed. I tossed and turned. I couldn't fall asleep. I couldn't get comfortable. I worried.

The phone rang. "Hello? Thomas?"