The Merry Widow Ch. 01

It was Saturday and I was clearing space in the back garden to make way for a new shed. Then I was taking the bags of surplus soil and rubble to the council recycling centre in the back of my trusty old Volvo estate car. The site had to be cleared and levelled ready for the shed company to turn up and do the business.

I was on my last run of the day. The centre closed at 4.00pm and that was fine by me. It was half past three and I was humping the last bag out of the car and was about to head for the skip, when I noticed a woman in front of me. She had shoulder length auburn hair, was wearing loose fit jeans and a pale grey halter top. A black bra was visible at the side of the scoop sleeve. Although they were loose fit, it was obvious that she had a tight, cute butt under those jeans. I paused to get a better look. Sometimes the promise of a cute butt is sexier than one that is wrapped in skin tight leggings, I thought.

She was struggling with a very heavy sack and was about to carry it up the steps and deposit it in the skip. I caught up with her, passed her and quickly threw my bag over the edge. I turned to face her as she was still struggling.

"Here, can I help you with that?" I said.

She looked up and smiled. "Why thank you, that is so kind," she replied.

Her face had character, rather than classic beauty, but she had one of those smiles that make you think the sun has just come out and her body looked just as enticing from the front as it was from the back. I was instantly smitten.

I grabbed part of the bag, eased it out of her hands and threw it in the skip.

"Do you have any more? I will take over if you like."

"I couldn't possibly expect you to," she said. "You probably have your own rubbish to dispose of."

"No, I'm done for the day. I was just about to leave, so it's no sweat."

"In that case, I will accept your kind offer. I'm just about worn out. I have a lovely man who tends my garden. He's been helping me to reshape the rockery, but he's too old for heavy lifting now, so I'm taking care of the run to the recycling centre."

She flashed me another smile.

I studied her face. She was definitely the wrong side of forty, maybe close to fifty, but in very good shape. Her features were interesting rather than stunning, but none the worse for that. A smile like hers will always take you a long way in my book.

She had another three large bags in the back of her SUV, but I soon took care of them.

"There you go," I said, "Nice to have met you, I'm Paul, by the way -- and your husband should have been doing this."

A cloud passed across her face. The sun went in.

"He died last year; car accident."

"I'm sorry."

"That's OK; you weren't to know."

She shrugged and smiled once more.

"Thank you again," she said. "You're a knight in shining armour. I'm Janet."

She offered me her hand and I shook it.

I was about to turn and leave, when she followed up -

"I know this is forward of me, but if you have finished for the day, can I offer you a coffee back at my place? It seems the least I can do. I only live five minutes' away."

I was taken aback. I am not used to being hit on by attractive middle aged women. I should explain that I am closer to sixty than fifty, but pretty trim for my age. I don't train, but I haven't let myself go. All my moving parts still work, especially the most important one. I have been living alone since my separation five years ago.

Our divorce was amicable, as far as these things can be. My wife and I had just drifted apart and there was never a great sexual chemistry between us. I guess we just ran out of steam and ground to a halt. It was almost a relief not to have to go through the motions any more. Lorraine was a successful lawyer and we had no children, so she let me keep the house. She is a very fair woman and I still like her a lot. She could easily afford to buy another and our assets were sufficient to allow for this.

I should have got back on the scene. Some friends tried to introduce me to single women they knew and others told me about Tinder and dating agencies, but I felt bruised and unwilling to risk my quiet life for a possibly turbulent new relationship.

Lorraine had never tried to understand my sexuality and her libido seemed low in any case. I doubted I would find the woman of my dreams at my age. I was content with my own company. For some years I had paid to have my sexual needs met. It was easy, uncomplicated and highly satisfying.

There were some lovely women who sold sex. They were engaging, kind and skilful. There was also no doubt that they had high libidos and found the work rewarding. I was in the habit of finding one I liked and sticking with her for a year or two until she moved on to other things. Some of them almost became friends and we grew to understand each other pretty well. They all appreciated my oral skills and they couldn't fake the orgasms I gave them. They were great kissers as well. Some of the myths about sex workers are just that -- myths. The reality is far better.

I accepted Janet's offer. She scribbled down her address in case I lost her and I followed along behind her SUV until she pulled into a short drive. I parked across the street and got out.

Janet's house was a detached Edwardian family home. It must have been worth a fair penny in this part of town, I thought. Janet was walking towards the front door. I crossed the road and followed her inside. She led me into a modern fitted kitchen with breakfast bar.

"Take a seat, I'll put the coffee on," she said.

She busied herself at the worktop and soon poured us a couple of coffees.

She set a mug down for me, with a spoon, milk and sugar.

"So, tell me about yourself?"

"Well, there's not much to tell, really," I said. "I've been divorced five years. No big bust-up, we just kind of ran out of road. No children. And you?"

"Mark died a year ago," she said. "He was just crossing the road. It was so senseless. Drunk driver, stolen car - happens all the time; you just don't think it's going to happen to you. I'm still coming to terms with it. Not a minute goes by when I don't think of him. We were so happy. He was the love of my life. I know that's a cliché, but he really was."

"Now I've said too much. You must be wondering what you are doing in this house with a batty woman."

"Not at all," I said. "Life can be cruel. It's a tough world. I can't imagine how you must be feeling."

I reached out a hand and Janet leaned towards me and clasped it.

"What did he do?" I asked. "This is a neat house."

"Yes, I'm well provided for, there is that to be thankful for," she said. "Mark was a merchant banker. He knew how to manage our assets."

"The kids were devastated of course, but they're off living their own lives now and it's only right that they should. I'm not going to try and hold them back. I'm just rattling around here like a pea in a tin can. I've wondered about downsizing, but I can't bear to think about leaving here. This house holds my memories."

Her lip trembled. She was struggling to hold it together.

"Well being on your own like that is a massive blow, but you still have to live. Maybe I could take you out somewhere? We could go for a meal or see a show sometime."

Her smile broke through again, "Yes, I think I'd like that. I don't often stumble across someone new that I take to, but there's something about you. You seem solid and measured, somehow -- and kind. I might be completely wrong, I suppose."

"Now you're embarrassing me," I replied, "but I try to do the right thing -- do unto others, you know." I kind of ran out of words. I'm not a great talker.

I finished my coffee and stood up.

"Give me your number, Janet and I'll give you mine. I promise I'll call you with a plan to go somewhere within the week. Do you like musicals?"

"Yes I do," she said. "I'd like that."

That smile was killing me. I hadn't felt like this about a woman for years.

I had to walk past her to get to the door. She reached up to touch me and I thought, to give me a peck on the cheek. I lowered my head. She missed and our lips met. Her kiss was ferocious. It was as if she had been holding herself in check for a year and suddenly the floodgates had opened.

I embraced her and held her body against me. Her hands reached up for my head and pulled me closer. Her mouth opened and our tongues became entwined. She was turned on and she was turning me on. My cock was hardening and she was pressing against me. Surely this was not supposed to be happening?

We broke apart and she looked at me. The look was apologetic and embarrassed but also defiant. She had seen something she wanted and had gone for it. It must have taken a lot of guts. I wasn't about to spoil the moment for her. I had no reason to.

She grabbed my hand. "Upstairs, now, before I change my mind," she said.

I stumbled after her, up the wide sweeping staircase and into the master bedroom.

She turned to face me. Her hands went to my face again and she pulled my mouth to hers. She may have been embarrassed by her boldness, but she was not shy. I had never been kissed so single mindedly before. It was as though a lifetime of loneliness and frustration was being concentrated into a few seconds. I was stunned by her passion.

Her body was hard against me. Her breasts pushed against my chest. She had placed a thigh between my legs and it was massaging my balls. My cock was straining against my trousers. Our mouths were glued together. Our tongues were already fucking each other. First, hers invaded me; then mine pushed against hers and they meshed. The eroticism was mind-blowing.

Her hands pulled at my shirt and it escaped from my trousers. We broke apart and she tore at the buttons, unfastening it and pulling it from me. She pressed her fingers to my chest, feeling my ribs, then scraping downwards, teasing and scratching my nipples as she went. Without pausing she fumbled at my belt, then unfastened it and unbuttoned my trousers and pulled down the zip. My cock was now free and her hand plunged inside my pants, gratefully enclosed it and she gently began to stroke me.

Meanwhile my hands had discovered her breasts. I pulled off her halter top and moved my fingers to her back, where I unclipped the bra fastener. She shrugged and her gorgeous tits were liberated. I cupped them in my hands and pinched both nipples. She sighed and squeezed my cock harder. There was no doubt where we were going.

"The bed, now," she said urgently. "I need you inside me."

We half fell and half dived onto the bed. There was more fumbling with shoes and clothing. We probably broke a record for getting naked in the shortest possible time. Janet's body did not disappoint. I cannot remember ever being so aroused and so ready for a woman.

She pulled me down on her again. We overlapped each other on the bed. Our shoulders and faces were glued together. Janet was on her back, legs splayed. I had one arm under her shoulders and the other on her breast. I was squeezing it and pinching the nipple. Every sensation made my cock harder.

I slowly stroked her chest and stomach, moving my hand towards her vulva. Her stomach was flat and smooth. Her pubic hair was trimmed and neat. My hand reached her mons pubis and continued downwards. She let out a groan. First I cupped her vulva with my hand; then I slid a finger between her lips. She was wet and ready; slippery and open. There was no need for delay or any more foreplay.

She reached underneath me for my cock again, almost desperately, as though she was frightened that it might not still be there.

"One moment," I said.

I reached across to my discarded trousers, put a hand in the back pocket and took out a condom. I always keep one with me. I don't know why; for good luck, I guess. I quickly tore the packet open and rolled the condom over my cock.

Now we were both ready. Janet pulled me towards her again. I positioned myself between her thighs and leaned on my elbows, pointing my cock at her cunt. She put a hand to it and guided it home. There was nothing slow or tentative about the way we fucked. It was instantly brutal and intensely physical.

Janet raked her hands down my back. She wrapped her legs over mine, pulling me further in. I pounded her into the bed. Her arms held me as if she would never let me go. Our mouths were fused together. I could tell she was close to coming so I thrust harder and faster until I was unable to hold back any longer.

We exploded together. It was wonderful. I knew it was what Janet desperately wanted. It was what I needed. I kept going and she kept coming. My movements slowed and stopped and I pulled out and lay on my back beside her. She leaned her body against mine and placed an arm across my chest. She laid her head on my shoulder.

Suddenly she started shaking, silently at first. Then she was crying as well. Great shuddering sobs overwhelmed her. I held her naked body close to me, my arms wrapped around her. I stroked her hair and just loved her, I guess. I sensed what she was feeling. I knew this must be her first time since -- since that awful shock a year ago.

She began to speak, "Oh God. Mark, I'm so sorry. I love you so much. Please forgive me." The sobbing continued.

"It's OK," I said. "I understand. Just let it all out."

Her sobbing slowed and became silent, but she continued to shudder and my shoulder was wet with her tears. She reached over towards the bedside table and grabbed a tissue.

I glanced across and noticed a photo in a wooden frame. There was Janet, looking stylish in an off-the-shoulder dress, standing next to a handsome man in a grey suit and tie. In front of them was a pretty young woman in a mortar board and gown, proudly holding a rolled up degree.

"That's Mark?" I indicated. She nodded and gulped again. She was recovering her composure. I gave her another squeeze. "It's OK."

Janet seemed to relax and looked me in the eye.

"I'm sorry, again," she said. "You must think I'm mad."

"You're the first man I've been with since . ."

I stopped her mouth by placing my finger against her lips.

"Shhh. I know. You can move on, but you will never forget. You should never forget. I can be here for you."

I hugged her close again.

"I still miss him so much. We never had the chance to say goodbye. One morning he was there, as usual. Then there was that awful visit from the police and it was all over."

"I miss his smile; I miss his stupid jokes; I miss the cup of tea he used to make for me every morning. It's the little things, I guess."

"And I have to say, I miss his cock. I miss the sex we used to have. He was a wonderful lover. We never stopped enjoying each other. I know some marriages get stale, but ours never did. He was always fun to live with."

Her eyes clouded over with tears again.

"Let me get a robe or something for you," I said. "Let's talk some more."

She moved off the bed, grabbed a bathrobe that was resting on a chair, slipped it on and sat next to me again. That simple act seemed to have restored some of her poise. She was more at peace. She flashed me that smile again.

There I was, lying naked with a limp, wet, dripping cock, on the bed of a widow I'd only met an hour previously and had fucked until she cried. Now she was smiling at me again. Nothing could have seemed more right. Could I be falling in love? I must be going soft in the head I thought. Life sure is strange, sometimes.

Well, we talked and talked. We put the world to rights. We talked about our families and our childhoods. We talked about our former spouses and she sympathised with me and my sexless marriage.

"At least I know what I'm missing," she said. "And I'm going to give you what you never had."

We fucked again. This time I went down on her as well and she came again. She didn't cry this time.

Before we realised, it was starting to get dark outside.

"I'd better head off," I said.

"God; that reminds me, my daughter Ellie is coming over later," she said. "I'm not sure she is ready for the sight of a naked man in my bedroom, just yet."

"No problem. I'll call you tomorrow about that date," I replied as I put my trousers back on.

"I will hold you to that," she said.

She flashed me that smile again. I envied the marriage she had shared with Mark, but I can't deny that a small part of me was grateful for the opportunity that his passing had offered me. I promised myself that I wasn't going to screw it up. She was way too bruised and way too special for that. She was a jewel. Life doesn't give you many opportunities like this one.

I had fastened my shoes and I stood up. I glanced across at the chest of drawers at the side of the room. On the top was a riding crop. I hadn't noticed it before.

"So, you're a horse rider," I said. "You didn't mention it."

Janet followed my eyes and blushed.

"I'll be straight with you now, as we've started so well and been so honest," she said.

"I should have moved the crop, 'specially as Ellie is coming over. I don't ride now, though I did once. That is my crop, but I used to use it on Mark. Are you shocked?"

My stomach churned, but I kept my face straight.

"No, of course not; consenting adults and all that."

"I couldn't bear to put it away. I kept it out because it reminds me of him. He used to love it when I beat him with it. We both did. It added a whole extra dimension to our marriage. If you want to know more, I'll tell you next time we meet. Mark won't mind, I know. In fact he might be pleased. Have you ever . .?"

She paused.

"I think that's a conversation for next time," I said.

"Yes, yes, you'd better go," she said.

We walked downstairs to the front door. This time we embraced and kissed without losing control.

I walked across to my car and Janet smiled and shut the door.

As I drove home I could feel my heart thumping in my chest. I could see Janet holding that riding crop and I could see me tied to her bed, on the receiving end of a thrashing.

Tomorrow I would phone her.