Sarah Tangles with the Law

John my late husband had passed away without making a will and it was left for me to apply to the Supreme Court for the papers needed to administer his estate. I was proud of the fact that I was able to navigate the legal requirements needed to obtain this with the help of the Court's online filing system and a few telephone calls and emails to Court officials. The death had been advertised on the Court's website; copies of the death certificate and list of assets and liabilities had been certified and lodged with the Court; and the filing fee paid. The only remaining step was to apply to the Registrar of Probates for an order that Letters of Administration of the Estate of my late husband be granted to myself as his nearest living next of kin. All these steps were done online without the need for me to attend court or lodge paper copies of the documents.

Abraham, my late husband's lawyer friend had offered to help me lodge the final application online and remove my late husband as a director of the family company and as a trustee of the discretionary trust he had controlled. Abraham was an older divorced gentleman with grown-up children. At church last Sunday we had offered to come to my house the next Tuesday morning and go through the paperwork.

It was just after 10 a.m. on that Tuesday when there was a knock on the door. I got up from the sofa, slipped into my sandals, straightened my dress, patted down my hair, dabbed a spot of perfume on my neck and wrists, and went to answer the knock. Abraham was standing at the door, briefcase in one hand and a bunch of flowers in the other hand. I smiled, let him in, and kissed him on the cheek as he presented me with the flowers. I led him to the dining room table, where my papers were arranged, and he placed his briefcase there while I went to find a vase and place the flowers in them.

This was the first time I had been alone in my home with Abraham, and I wondered if he had picked the time because he knew my daughter would be at school and I would probably be home alone. I was aware that he had a reputation as a "ladies' man" on one hand and that he was respectful of the sanctity of marriage on the other hand. When I had asked my late husband if he was someone who had affairs with women, he said I was being silly, and just because he was dark (the only son of Southern Indian migrants in reality) it was not his fault if white women were attracted to him. "Better a poor believing black journeyman than a rich unbelieving white banker" was his riposte.

Having lost my husband recently, I was feeling a little emotional, but also a little surprised when I returned to the dining room and he reached across, took me by the hand and pulled me in for a kiss on the lips. I was even more surprised when I let him. I had been my late husband's full-time care person for the last three years and not been alone with a man in my house, outside of my immediate family, in all that time. For the first time in three-years I felt my breasts swelling and a tingling sensation in my pubic area. I can still remember the musky scent of his aftershave and the fresh taste of his mouth as he drew me into that close embrace.

Whether out of arousal, fear, or surprise, I made no real effort to resist, and this emboldened him to take further liberties with me. These I resisted and broke the embrace.

"Shall we start on the paperwork and when we finish that, I can make you lunch" I said in what I hoped was a stern tone but was not as given away by the quaver in my voice.

"Yes, Sarah, that would be nice" and held out his suit coat, "would you be so good as to place my coat on a hanger before we get down to work?"

"Of course, give it to me" I said and took his coat and turned away to the bedroom to hang it in the wardrobe. Initially, I was unaware that he had followed me into the bedroom, and then angry and scared when I turned to find he had. "What are you doing in my bedroom, Abraham"

"We both know what I am doing Sarah, and you know that you have encouraged me by your behaviour"

Angry silence, as I had wanted to finish the filing before we got side-tracked?

"You are now free to enjoy the companionship of a believing man, Sarah."

Angrier silence. He is forthcoming about his intentions, but what does he think I am?

"You are an attractive and intelligent woman, Sarah"

Again, stunned silence on my part as I took big, long breaths to regain my composure.

"Your husband called you 'Girl' and you called him 'Sir' when you were f**king each other, true?"

"How did you know?" I yelled back at him, annoyed that this intimate detail had been shared with a third party. It was all I could do to stay calm and control my feelings.

"John, shared a few details with me girl. Like that you were a good f**k and if he was to pass away you would soon bed another man."

What a vain manipulative man I thought to myself. He could see that I was aroused and did want his help to file the grant application today, but surely did not know that I was curious to find out if it was true that a black men had a large penis. Had my late husband also told him that? So, I let out a little smile, went over to the bed, and sat down to wait his next move. The fear and uncertainty he had instilled in me was working to his advantage as I was feeling lightheaded, and my vagina was lubricating.

When I looked him straight in the eyes, he pushed down on my chest to lay me on my back with my legs dangling over the edge of the bed. The thin cotton dress I was wearing had ridden up and I was worried he would see the growing wet patch on my panties. He kept his hand on my chest as he looked me up and down and said "Girl, you are in a state of arousal and there is no shame in that. As a newly single woman you have shown me that you have sexual needs, and I am here to take care of them now. Just lay here and let me undress you and fill you with my seed.

Silence as my mind sought sanctuary in Romans 7:2 -- "a married woman is bound by law to her husband while he lives, but if her husband dies, she is released from the law of marriage."

Was this a threat? His use of the word girl served to remind me that he knew some of my sexual history and very much thought of himself as being the macho man in charge. The pressure of his hand on my chest confirmed this. I could think of nothing sensible to say, so I lay there, facing him in silence. I was disappointed to say the least in my late husband revealing these intimate details.

"Are you going to behave girl?"

Silence

"Do not make me repeat myself girl, I asked you if you are going to behave?"

The best way I knew to protect myself in a dangerous or upsetting situation was to remain calm and not get into an argument. So, I paused to think and reluctantly said "Yes, Sir."

"Let me lift your dress off girl" and he stood over me, undoing the buttons at the front of my dress. When all seven were undone, he made me sit up, lifted the dress off my shoulders freed, it from my arms, and threw it on a chair. Then he reached behind, unsnapped my bra, lifted it off my arms, and threw it on the same chair as my dress. I sat there frozen, almost naked, emotions all over the shop. I struggled to hold back tears.

"Quiet, girl, tears will not save you from loose morals. If you are acting like a harlot, you will be treated like one, and I don't believe that you are a one. If you want me to leave you alone I will leave the house immediately. Do you want me to stay and help you with the filing girl?"

"Yes"

"Yes, what, girl?"

"Yes, Sir"

"Have you let me gaze upon your half naked body, girl."

"Yes, Sir"

"Are we going to attend to your sexual needs, girl"

"Yes, Sir"

It seemed to me that he could not get his clothes off and his penis out fast enough when he heard me say that. He was down on the bed with his hand in my panties and tongue in my mouth in an instant. I lifted my ass, wriggled my pelvis, and let him pull my panties down to my ankles and over my feet. I was emotional, in a high state of arousal, and just wanted him to get it all over with. Damm, he was heavy wriggling around on top of me, touching me up.

When he raised his pelvis, I looked down at his erect penis and smiled, as I had done for my late husband countless times. It was not what I imagine is called colloquially a BBC. It was more like a chocolate curved cutlass, longer than I remember my husband's being and about the same width. The emotion on seeing an erect penis too much for me and I started sobbing again. I had loved my husband and missed him terribly.

"Open your legs, girl. We are going to f**k"

Fear and force of habit made me spread my legs as a sign that I was ready to be taken. My body tensed and vagina tingled in a heightened state of arousal as a firm and flexible penis parted my labia and entered my vagina. I had a mini climax almost immediately, even though I did my best to detach myself from the foreign body thrusting inside me. A whole of body feeling of elation and a pulsing of blood through my pubic area overcame me. I tried to remain still and inert but was aware of involuntarily crying out in excitement in response to his sex pumping in and out of me. I was still climaxing when I felt a mess of sticky goo filling my vagina and the pumping stopped. It seemed that was it for now as he pulled out, got up to wash and left me laying on the bed.

Feeling sore, horny, and disappointed with myself, I got up, cleaned up, dressed down and went back to the dining room. We filed for probate, filled out some unrelated transfer forms for my signature (which I would sign later when I had a second opinion to make sure he was not cheating me), and had a quick bite to eat together. At the end of the day, I got my filing done and he got to f**k me.

I never returned his calls or let him into my house again, and I avoided him in the community as best I could. I put the whole incident down as a cost of doing business and moved on with my life.