Mature Widows Ch. 01

1963: It was the height of cold war. After taking graduate courses at the State University, I was offered a temporary job at a Government laboratory in Northern Ohio. I rented a room in a quiet neighborhood about ten miles from the laboratory and moved in.

One day late in August, I found out my 1958 Chevy Impala required major repair, including a rebuilt transmission; I left it at a garage to be fixed in about a week. I learned I can take a bus to work not far from my room; left at 7 a.m.

On the first day I rode the bus, I ended up sitting next to a lady with a pleasant face, wavy brown hair, and thick lips. I noted most of the riders seemed to know each other.

The lady said, “I’ve been riding the bus daily. I have not seen you.”

I told her, “My car’s being repaired; it needs a new transmission.”

I saw her again on the bus to home in the evening and sat next to her. She introduced herself to me:

“I'm Emma Rogers.”

I said, “Nice to meet you; I’m Billy Bradley.”

I noticed she had a friendly voice and beautiful smile. Emma said softly, “It’s unusually cool so early; I’m not ready for winter. I hope we have more warm weather.”

I said, “I’m sure it will get warm again; may be we will have an Indian summer in Northern Ohio,” and, being curious, asked:

“How long have you been riding the bus?”

Emma said softly, “About five years; I stopped driving after an accident; I’m just afraid to drive. I’ve been working for about 20 years at the G-labs in the accounting section. I live in a small house not too far from the large apartment complex. Do you have a permanent job? Where do you live?”

I told her, “I’m on a two-year contract with the Government and live in a rooming house.”

After my car was fixed, I started driving to work, and I did not see Emma for several days. One evening, I went to a nearby supermarket to pick up milk, eggs, butter, and bread, and saw Emma in the dairy section.

After saying hello to each other, I offered:

“Emma, after you’re done shopping, I’ll give you a ride home.”

Emma smiled and said, “Thank you for the offer; I don’t have to take a taxi.”

Again, I noticed Emma had a dazzling smile, but her teeth were slightly crooked; she had shoulder-length brown hair and was about 5’2’’ and 125 lb. Later, at her home, Emma said:

“Come in for a cup of coffee; it's cool outside, your groceries will be fine in the car.”

Inside her home, when Emma removed her light coat, even though she had on a loose, white, long-sleeve, blouse, her ample bosom came in to my view. She asked me to sit in a kitchen chair and talk to her as she put her groceries away. I had a good view of Emma from the side and every time she lifted an item, I noticed that her big, slightly sagging, boobs jiggled. Inadvertently, my cock became stiff.

As I stared at the voluptuous, middle-aged, woman, moving about in her kitchen, I lost track of what she was saying. When she turned her head towards me, she caught me staring at her boobs. Instead of getting mad at me, as I expected, she smiled at me and said:

“I asked how you like your coffee.”

I blurted out, “With milk,” making Emma blush.

Over coffee, I asked, “How long you have been living here?”

Emma said:

“I bought the house ten years ago because it’s small, has a nice yard, and helps with income tax; it’s adequate to live on my salary and my late husband’s pension.”

I mumbled, “I’m sorry; I didn’t know you’re widowed.”

“I was widowed during the Second World War; I lost my 25 year-old husband, Jim, in the Pacific.”

I was touched and also impressed Emma knew a war hero. I asked:

“Did you travel with him while in service?”

“After we got married, he was sent to Jacksonville for training for a year—there was not much of the navy left in Hawaii; I went to be with him in Jacksonville; he was killed a year after he was sent in to action; two years after we were married,” and added:

“Jim and I dated about three years before we got married. It took me several years to get over him. Even now, each month I am reminded of him when I receive his pension.”

I said, “You are a kind and pretty lady. I am surprised you didn't meet a young man you liked.”

Emma smiled and replied, “I'm glad you think I'm pretty. You see, Billy, many young women were widowed during the war,” and added:

“By the time I wanted to date, mind you I still thought of Jim often, there were not many young, single, men. For a few years, I took care of my widowed mother.”

Emma laughed and said, “There were many older, married, men who came after me.”

I thanked Emma for the coffee and gave her my telephone number if she needed a ride to the grocery store. That night, I could not get Emma’s big boobs and smiling face out of my mind, and I jacked off imagining I was fondling her lovely boobs.

EMMA BECOMES A FRIEND

Next Monday, Emma called me: “I slipped and fell on my front steps after the rain; I hurt my ankle.”

I said, “It must be painful to walk; I’ll give you ride to work and back until you’re ok.”

Emma replied, “Thank you, Billy.”

Later that week, on the drive home from work, Emma asked:

“Where are you from Billy? Do you have a girlfriend?”

I replied, “I'm from Massachusetts. I had a girlfriend for couple of years, but we broke up just before I moved here. I’ve not been actively looking for one; I guess I’m not an aggressive person.”

I added, “I don’t go home much. After Mom died a few years ago, my Dad remarried and moved to San Diego; I am not fond of my step mother who has four children younger than me from earlier marriages.”

I enjoyed conversing with Emma and, after a week, I continued giving her ride to work and back. On a Wednesday, on the way from work, Emma said:

“Some times, I stop at Charly’s, have a drink, talk to a friend, and walk home; let’s have a drink tonight.”

I agreed and pulled in to Charly’s and, after parking my car, I opened the passenger door for Emma. As Emma got out of the car, I saw her skirt was pulled up and saw her well-shaped thighs to the tops of her black panty hose; Emma made no effort to pull her skirt down until after she got out of my car.

In the smoky lounge, after we ordered our drinks: a gin and tonic for me and a daiquiri for Emma, Emma took a cigarette from her purse and offered me one which I declined.

After I lighted Emma’s cigarette with her lighter, she said:

“I don’t smoke much, may be one a day,” and, after looking around, added:

“My friend is not here today.”

As Emma smoked and talked about her day at work, again I saw she was an attractive woman with a sensual mouth and large boobs; I also thought of her meaty thighs I saw earlier. I was not sure she would be interested in having a romantic relationship with me, a guy younger than her. However, by the end of the evening, I thought she put her foot on mine under the table and touched my shin with her foot.

Next day, after getting out of my car at her home, Emma said:

“I should pay you for driving me to work many times.”

I said, “No need for that; I've to go to work anyway. It's nice to have company while I drive; you’re fun to talk to.”

Emma blushed and said, “How about dinner tomorrow night? Nothing fancy. I'm taking off from work to take care of several chores and I can make a nice dinner.”

I said, “Fine,” and left for my room; on the way, I bought a bottle of wine for dinner next day.

FRIDAY AT THE MOVIE

Next day, after work, I took a quick shower to freshen up after spending a day in an office with couple of smokers, picked up the bottle of chilled wine from the refrigerator, and joined Emma at her home. She prepared a salad, fried fish, and mashed potatoes with gravy; she made rolls just in time for dinner. While Emma was busy in the kitchen, after handing her a glass of wine, I read in the paper, an article about Audrey Hepburn’s movie: “Breakfast at Tiffany's.” I said to Emma:

“I heard nice comments about ‘Breakfast at Tiffany's’ and Audrey Hepburn.”

An excited Emma exclaimed, “I love her and the movie. You should see it. Let's go see it. Can we go tonight?”

I said, “Ok, let me see where it’s being shown.”

After checking in the newspaper, I mumbled, “It's being shown at a drive in.”

Emma said, “I don't mind. Please, let's go. We don’t have to work tomorrow.”

I mumbled, “Ok,” and helped Emma clear the table.

Emma had on a white blouse, beige skirt, and black tights; she wore gold-plated loop ear rings and a matching necklace.

Emma said, “I’ll freshen up a bit and bring couple of blankets for us to stay warm.”

On the way to the movie, Emma asked, who’s your favorite actress?”

I said, “Janet Leigh; I liked her in ‘Psycho’ and also in ‘Who was That Lady?’ She’s married to Tony Curtis.”

Emma giggled and said, “You like her because she has big breasts,” making me blush.

I managed to say, “She has a narrow waist.”

Emma, smiling, said, “That’s true; she has a tiny waist and big breasts.”

The drive-in-theater was not quite full and I parked towards the back. After Emma covered us with a blanket, she snuggled up to me, and put my hands around her waist, I realized that she was interested in me as a lover. I confessed:

“Emma, I have great respect to all the soldiers of Second World War; I’m in awe of those who saw combat. I know your husband was a brave man. I will never match or equal his bravery. I hope you understand that.”

After a minute, Emma touched my face, and said:

“Billy, you’re sweet. Jim will always have a special place in my heart; no one can take that place. I have grieved for him for many years. It's time I move on with my life,” and, after a pause, added:

“Jim had blue eyes and brown hair just like you; you are a bit taller than he was. I hope you understand.”

I understood what Emma went through and where she was that day. Gently, I wiped two tears from her cheeks, kissed her closed large brown eyes, and then kissed her lips; Emma held my head and returned my kiss fervently; she kissed my lips, pushed her tongue in to my mouth, and let me suck her pouty mouth. After a short time, Emma whispered to me:

“I see lovers embracing and kissing in many cars. I know you like my breasts; you can touch them.”

Slowly, I moved my hands underneath the blanket and gently grasped both of Emma’s clothing covered boobs. After a few minutes, Emma whispered again:

“Billy, you can go underneath my blouse.”

Gladly, I undid Emma’s blouse buttons and fondled her bra-covered boobs. I couldn’t focus on the movie. After a while, I managed to lift one bra cup and, much to my delight, fondled Emma’s right boob.

I whispered, “Emma, it feels good to fondle your boobs.”

When I gently pinched her nipple, Emma whimpered with pleasure and cooed:

“Billy, it has been a long time since anyone loved my breasts. I was a virgin when I got married. Jim was a virgin too; on our honeymoon, we fumbled a lot. We did not know how to have good sex.”

I put my hands on Emma’s under arms and arm pits, and rubbed them; they felt soft and smooth. As I kept rubbing, I mumbled:

“I love your smooth under arms and arm pits.”

Emma whispered, “I’m glad you like them. I didn’t know anyone cared for them. Good thing I shaved my underarms this morning.”

After a while, Emma asked: “Billy, are you a virgin?”

I replied, “No. My girl friend let me do it to her several times; I wore a condom to keep her getting pregnant. Mary also taught me to use my fingers on her.”

Before long, the movie was over; I adjusted my clothing and my erect cock, Emma covered herself in the blankets and snuggled to me; she cooed:

“Billy, it’s not too late; let’s go home and visit.”

On the drive to Emma’s home, she and I hummed: ‘Moon River,” and laughed a lot. I discovered Emma was a fun person to be with.

FRIDAY AFTER THE MOVIE

At her home, Emma said:

“Billy, park your car in the garage, it’s in the back.”

Emma and I entered her home from the back. While Emma went to put the blankets away, I looked at several mounted photos on a mantle in the living room. I saw a faded black and white photograph of a young navy man; I guessed it was Jim. In another photo, there was a bride in a white gown and a groom in a navy uniform; I recognized Emma's face. She had dark shoulder-length hair then also.

I felt Emma standing next to me in the unbuttoned blouse; she said:

“Now you know how I looked when I was 22 years old.”

Hugging her, I said, “You were a beautiful young woman; I see you were very much in love.”

I adjusted the lights to better see Emma’s beautiful face and body. I started playing an album of Frank Sinatra and swaying to the music; I held my arms wide open and said:

“Emma, come hug me, and dance with me.”

While slow-dancing, I French kissed Emma; when my kiss ended, she initiated a new kiss; we French kissed for a long time. As Emma whimpered with pleasure, I also kissed her slender underarms and long neck.

As I rubbed Emma's bra-covered boobs with the back of my hand, I whispered to Emma,

“Please let me see these beauties.”

Emma said, “I know you’re eager to see them; but, they are sagging; they’re not like when I was young: proudly standing up; I hope you like them.”

I said, “Emma, I'm sure they are beautiful. Please let me see.”

After Emma shyly nodded, slowly, I reached behind Emma's back and, after couple of attempts I unhooked her white bra and pulled it away from her boobs. Emma's boobs looked large and beautiful on her slender torso; they had large, brown, nipples. As Emma stood blushing, I whispered in admiration:

“Emma, they are lovely,” and gently fondled them in my hands and pinched her large eraser-size nipples. When I bent my head and suckled her right nipple, Emma whimpered with pleasure.

Emma said softly, “Billy, it's been a long time since I loved a man and I've been loved. I've forgotten many things to love a man. Please love me; I'm in your hands. Let's sit on the sofa; I'll play another album I like for background; I like romantic music.”

While Emma put on a new vinyl album, I adjusted a lamp not too far from the sofa so that we could see each other in subdued light. After we sat on the living room sofa, I whispered:

“Emma, I made love to one woman, Mary, in my life. I am not an expert. When I made love to Mary, I used a condom to keep her from getting pregnant. When it's time, I have to get one from my car.”

Emma said, softly, “I became pregnant soon after I married Jim, but I miscarried and had complications. The doctors told me it's unlikely I'll ever get pregnant,” and softly added:

“I'm also too old to make babies; it's doubtful I can become pregnant.”

After a pause, she added:

“In these days of sexual liberation, it's ironic neither of us has been promiscuous enough to catch a disease. Let's explore and learn from each other. I hope you're not disappointed that I'm not more experienced. I promise I'll be a good student and be open with you.”

I said, “I'm not capable of one night stands and casual sex. I got to know a woman first and only then can I become intimate with her. If you're concerned of catching a disease from me, I can take care of you in other ways.”

Earnestly, Emma asked, “Like what?”

I replied, “Mary taught me to use my fingers and my mouth, oral sex, on her. How about you? Have you used your hand on a man?”

Shyly, Emma whispered, “After Jim and I got engaged, I used my hand on him,” and shyly added:

“I would like your mouth on me; a woman at work also mentioned it as something she enjoys very much,” and thoughtfully asked:

“If oral sex is very enjoyable, I wonder why more people are not aware of it? We could have fewer babies.”

I whispered, “Emma, I would like to fondle your boobs some more and suckle them; I get satisfaction doing that; it arouses me more. Please sit in my lap.”

Softly, Emma said, “You're still fully dressed. Take off your clothes. I want to see you naked.”

After I quickly removed all of my clothes, Emma rubbed my hairy chest and hugged me; she stepped back, and whispered:

“You have a nice, hard, body; now, let me see your genitals,” and after nudging me to sit on the sofa, slid to her knees on the carpeted floor, and stared at my throbbing, erect, cock.

I whispered, “Emma, if you grasp it, it will feel good for me.”

Slowly, Emma reached out with her small right hand and held my cock firmly; after a short while, she said:

“It's so big, soft, and throbbing,” and when she slowly pumped it, I tilted my head back and moaned with pleasure.

I mumbled, “Emma, take off your skirt and sit in my lap; I want to suckle your boobs.”

After reluctantly letting go of my cock, Emma removed her skirt, and with passion-filled eyes, sat in my lap in her slip and panties. She threw her arms around my neck, closed her eyes, and French kissed me passionately.

For several minutes, I alternated between fondling Emma's jiggling boobs and suckling her nipples. I then kissed her neck and whispered to her:

“Emma, let me perform oral love to you. You have to take off your slip and panties, and sit on the couch.”

Shyly, Emma whispered, “I'm really wet; you sure you want to put your mouth there.”

I said, “A wet and slick vagina means you're aroused; I would love it if you have an orgasm.”

Emma got off of me and, facing me, quickly removed her panties first and then her slip. Shyly, she tried to cover her crotch with her right hand and her boobs with her left arm.

After I got off the couch, I slid on my knees in front of Emma and, while rubbing her calves and the back of her thighs, I noted she had thick growth of dark pubic hair. As I waited in front of her on my knees, she still covered her crotch with her right hand. I looked up at her face and said:

“Emma, I have to put my face in your crotch and lick your vagina; I can't do that with your hand in the way.”

After Emma mumbled, “Ok,” gently, I removed her hand away from her crotch and added:

“Emma, you're a beautiful woman,” and pushed my face in to her crotch and, with my lips, began searching for her vagina in her aroma-laden thatch of pubic hair.

When I licked her juicy slit, Emma let out moans:

“Ohhhhh. Billlly. Ahhhhhh. I liike it,” and quickly sat on the couch.

After Emma sat, again, shyly, she covered her crotch with her hand. I reminded her:

“Emma, I would like to continue what I began; I'm sure you'll continue to enjoy my licking and sucking.”

Emma replied, “Ok, Billy. It's just that I'm not used to exposing my crotch so openly to anyone,” and moved her hand away.

Smiling, Emma pulled my head in to her crotch. I lapped Emma’s nectar-laden pussy lips and her small-penis-like clit; I inserted two fingers in to Emma’s pussy and massaged her aroused passage. After several minutes, suddenly, Emma’s body stiffened, she pushed my head harder in to her convulsing crotch, and released a long moan:

“Ohhhhhhh. Billlyyyyyy. Cummmmming. Goddddddddd.”

As Emma’s body convulsed with pleasure, I just held on to her large boobs and pressed my tongue on her clit; with my nose in her crotch, I inhaled her sex fragrances until she recovered. Emma lifted my head from her crotch and gratefully kissed my pussy-nectar covered lips, and cooed:

“Billy, that was very, very, good. You are good,” and kissed me again:

Emma looked at my crotch and saw my raging hard on; in awe and with curiosity, she touched it and said:

“Billy, it’s your turn. I’m sure you’re all excited.”

I mumbled, “I’m very excited. But, I don’t have a condom with me.”

Emma touched my face with her small hand and whispered, “I’m sure we don’t need one,” and continued:

“Billy, stretch on your back; let me bring tissues from the bathroom,” and, as she walked away, giggled, and added:

“I want to pump your cock.”