Widow Need Sex - Erotic story

Widow Need Sex

Copyright 2011 by Nicky Sasso

Smashwords edition

I was 16 years old when it happened. You have
to admit it that it was the most inconvenient period in life, the
period in which you had to decide what to do with your life,
whether you were going to be a winner or loser. Everything
indicated that I would be very successful. I was a brilliant
student, a very talented volleyball player, many first league clubs
were interested in me, I was very handsome, etc. Everything was
perfect until I lost my father in a car accident on June 20th.

I was left with my 44-year-old mother and
immense sorrow that entered our home.

Since that day, I thought the time stopped. I
felt like that especially two-three days after the funeral, when my
mom and I stayed alone in the eerie empty house filled with sorrow
and silence that was killing us. We were completely isolated from
the world in spooky silence without a TV, without friends and
laughter, without everything that we used to have in our home until
then. I mourned my father 24 hours a day worrying about my mom, who
took it extremely difficult.

The fourth day after the funeral, when the
relatives who came from other towns went their homes and left us
alone, was the hardest. We were silent. The silence was broken only
by my mom’s occasional sigh or groan that she tried to hide from
me.

At sunset of that hot July 24th, somewhere
around 9 PM, since we did not watch TV, my mom asked me to come to
their room for a while because she was afraid: “Son, please come to
sleep in my bed. At least for 40 days while the candle is lit.” She
told me that with eyes full of tears, awaking a similar emotion in
me and knowledge that it was harsh reality - my father would never
lie in that bed again. It was difficult for me, but I agreed to do
it.

She went to bed first, and I joined her 15
minutes later.

When I entered the bedroom, a candle was lit.
It was a custom in the village where my father was born. I saw mom
lying on the right side of the bed, on her left. Her back was
turned to the part of the bed that was waiting for me. It was
easier for me to get to my side of the bed knowing that mom was not
looking at me, because I usually slept only in underwear,
especially during hot summer nights. Although I did not turn on the
lights, the room was lit by diffusive candle light which burnt all
night long for 40 nights. I undressed myself quickly and lay to my
side of the bed.

Mom lay down uncovered. She wore a black
satin summer nightgown that was reaching to the middle of her
thighs. I was extremely sad, but it seemed to me that I handled the
situation much better than my mom, who sighed and wept all night
long. That night I cried myself to sleep, as well, feeling sorry
for my mom as much as I felt sorry for my father. The next day
passed just like the previous one, silently, except when a neighbor
visited us and broke the silence with some serious stories about
new political events. After those short visits, everything would be
the same. The next evening when I went to bed at around 9 PM, my
mom was at the same position, with her back turned towards my side
of the bed. She wore the same black nightgown that revealed her
back, but it was more lifted than the night before, so I could see
black undies enlacing her ball-like buttocks.

I thought, God, she was so bereaved that she
wore black even during nights, even black underwear. I felt sorry
for her again sympathizing with her pain.

My mom was a very attractive lady, a bit
chubby with a big behind. However, it suited her very well. She had
long black hair and large breasts. She was 5’9’’, which meant that
she was a tall woman. She was very hot, and she was at the prime of
her life.

On the third day since we stayed alone, we
started talking during lunch. We thought it would be easier that
way, and we tried to create some new habits.

- “Son, you should go to your volleyball
practice? Life goes on; you can’t do anything about it,” she said
looking at me with sad eyes.

- “Well, I don’t know... I’m not in the mood
for that now. Besides, I don’t want to leave you alone,” I told her
honestly.

- “Hmmm,” she smiled sadly and continued:
“Don’t think like that. We have a life in front of us. It goes on.
Thinking like you do won’t take us anywhere,” she said with a deep
sigh, leaning towards me to kiss my hair. She whispered: “You’re
just like your father. He always cared more about other people than
about himself. Now when he’s gone, I see I’m not alone.”

At that moment, tears filled her eyes, so she
got up and left the dining room. My eyes followed her to the door.
I saw her as a noble and attractive woman who wore black from head
to toe. My heart was breaking with sorrow. I felt extremely sorry
for her because I knew her feminine fragility and I was aware of
the fact that we, men, tended to get over a loss easier. I was also
aware of the fact that she lost her husband at an age when she
still needed him very much, because she was a human being and had
the same needs as others.

Days passed by, nights passed by, and
everything was the same. Every day was the same, spent in
silence.

I went to a volleyball practice on the tenth
day, when I plucked up courage, after having been called from the
club persistently and after having been convinced by my mom. It was
evident that I was not in top form since I had not trained for a
while. However, the club offered me the first contract with the
explanation that I should become a professional player, which meant
I would have salary that we needed badly after everything that
happened. I did not know what to do. I knew bigger clubs were
interested in me. I would have become more successful in bigger
clubs, so I had a dilemma. I came home for lunch which had already
been waiting for me on the table.

- “You came right on time. Are you tired? How
was it? Your mom made you roasted meat. You must be exhausted,” mom
said. She was slightly in a better mood than the previous days.

- “Well, I’m not really hungry,” I replied
with concern.

- “What’s wrong? What happened?” she asked me
agitated, slicing bread. She sat at the table to have lunch.

- “Nothing,” I paused and continued: “The
people from the club offered me a contract and some salary. They
want my response in several days.”

- “Well... what’s wrong with that?” she asked
me taking the first bite.

- “I’m not sure if it’s smart for me to be
bound by a contract. They really insist that I sign it. I don’t
know what to do. This is quite a dilemma.”

- “Hmmm, I don’t know. It’s up to you to
decide. It’s your life. Just be careful, son. I advise you to
always take what people offer you and not to hesitate. Do things
while you still can. Later, it can be too late. Anyway, it’s your
decision. Just keep in mind what I told you. You should try
everything.” She said it quickly like a child reciting a
well-memorized poem. All that time, she gazed into my eyes, holding
a fork with a piece of meat on it in her hand.

- “Well, I’m not sure, mom. The problem is
that the big clubs haven’t contacted me officially yet. I’ve only
heard some rumors that they are interested in me.” I explained it
to her while she was sucking a piece of meat into her fleshy mouth.
She looked at me with a strange glow in her eyes, as if she had
been the one who wanted to show me some things.

- “Son, you know the old saying: first come,
first served? So, don’t be late. Actually, ask your conscience. Do
what you want to do. I’ll be satisfied, for sure. And I’ll be proud
of you. Good intentions are the most important. Just keep on
trying. Always be shameless. Always ask and do what you want and
like, and you’ll always succeed. Just have self-confidence. If I
can help you, feel free to lean on me. I’m here for you.” Again she
spoke quickly, looking at me like she did several minutes ago.

On the tenth day since mom and I were alone,
we went to bed early as usual, as we did the previous days.

I entered the candle-lit room again where my
mom was lying on her side of the bed, on her left as usual. I
thought she did that to spare me embarrassment while I undressed
myself. I did not think that there could be any other reason.

I took off my clothes leaving only my dark
blue boxer shorts which fitted close to my body. I lay down. It was
very humid, so I did not cover my body with anything. Then I sensed
the bed trembling slightly. It came from mom’s side of bed. I
looked over there thinking that she wept again. I saw the black
satin nightgown again, only this time it was lifted up almost above
the hips. It was so lifted up that I could clearly see the lace of
her black undies. Candle light gave them a special shine
highlighting the roundness of her behind protruding towards my side
of the bed. She was breathtaking.

At first I thought my eyes would pop out
because of the effort I made trying to see through dim candle light
the curly pattern on the edges of mom’s underwear disappearing in
the gap between her buttocks. For a moment, I forgot about the
misfortune that struck upon us.

Then I winced. I was ashamed of myself. I
looked away trying to forget what I saw. I felt remorse. But it was
not easy to forget what I saw. Looking at the restless flame
silhouettes dancing on the walls, I had only one thing on my mind.
It was the lace of my mom’s black underwear and the area of her
body where the lace was hidden slightly. I was ashamed, but I could
not resist such strong sensations that pierced my body so strongly
that my dick became hard, and in my stomach I felt never-before
experienced restlessness. The sensation was so strong that I had to
retreat myself and look back at the old direction. I consoled
myself that it was not horrible to have such instinct, because only
I knew about it. It was only my secret. Mine and God’s.

I saw that lace again. It got stuck in my
brain. I knew every detail of it so accurately that I could draw
it. It curved from mom’s hips stretching across her buttocks
embracing them almost completely and disappearing at the place that
was a mystery to me, because until then I had not had an
opportunity of seeing closely female intimate body parts.

The upper hem of her undies was laced, too,
but somehow it was less interesting than the lower one around the
legs stretched across you know what.

I stared at it for some time, again sensing
light vibrations being transferred through the mattress. I started
panicking, because I concluded that mom was not asleep. It was
obvious that she cried. I turned around quickly fearing that she
could notice me looking at her. I could not fall asleep for a long
time having an image of my mom’s butt on my mind...

In the morning, after the sweetest dream
until then, when I woke up I saw daylight. The first image that
came to my mind was the image of my mom’s butt. I thought it
started haunting me. I looked down on my morning-erected dick and
noticed a big white stain on the dark fabric of my boxer shorts. I
was very ashamed and concerned that mom had already seen it, since
I slept without covers, like she did. Anyway, I had to get up
because the time for going to a volleyball practice approached.

My face was red with shame. I entered the
dining room where mom had already served breakfast and kindly
replied to my “good morning”, adding: “Did you sleep well, son?
Have you been thinking about our yesterday’s conversation? Come on,
hurry up! You don’t want to be late for your practice.” She looked
at me with a strange shine in her eyes.

She finished her breakfast before I did and
went to the sink to wash the dishes dirty from last night’s dinner.
Her back was facing me. I was able to stare at her freely
forgetting the volleyball practice and breakfast.

She was in black completely. She wore clogs
and stockings, black above-the-knee pencil skirt, black
close-fitting short-sleeved blouse. The blouse followed the line of
her attractive body. So did the skirt. It fitted tightly against
her fleshy protruding buttocks creating incredible tension at its
surface, so that I thought it would rip at some point, especially
when she, standing by the sink, put her weight from one foot to the
other. Then I thought that they were made of rubber. They shook and
transferred their energy to my dick which was growing, and growing,
and growing...

When I finished breakfast, I made sure I
exited the kitchen when she was not looking, so that she would not
see the bulge on my sweat pants. I ran out of the kitchen, grabbed
my bag with sports equipment and started putting on my shoes. Then
I heard her voice coming from the kitchen. She spoke louder than
usual, so that I could hear her: “Good luck, son! Don’t forget what
I told you yesterday. Always, you must know what you want, in the
middle of the day, and in the middle of the night. You should know
that everywhere, at work, at school, in bed... everywhere.” She
said that, pausing at the “in bed” part, which stirred me again and
pushed the blood into my dick. I only said “bye” and left.