Widows

Thank you for selecting my story to read. I am Robin, a mature, bisexual woman. My writing is mostly memoirs spiced with a kinky imagination. I hope you like my stories and comment on what you enjoyed and perhaps didn't.

- Widows

I should have broken down, but I was in shock. All I felt was disbelief. Reality only registered when one officer touched my arm gently and asked if there was anything more, they could do, anyone they could call.

No, they could not change what happened. It was too late to repair the train crossing warning barriers that did not close. There was nothing they could do to stop the train. There was nothing they could do to bring back my husband or the woman he was with. There was no way they could undo the all too obvious continued cheating he had many times promised to end.

When the police first arrived, I had a fire in the fireplace and was reading, drinking wine, and waiting for John, my husband, to return from just one more weeklong business trip. It was after one of those trips more than two years earlier that I found the letter in his suit jacket inner pocket where she left it for him to see. The envelope was not sealed so who knows, perhaps he left it for me to find. Either way, the letter spelled out a two-year affair with an office colleague, a woman, a younger woman, he first took to bed on one of his "business trips." An affair he promised me when confronted, that he would end.

Our children thought the woman in the car with him was a business associate he was driving home from the airport and that was partially true, so I never said a word. Her family, I am sure, thought the same. My children will never know the truth or how close their parents were to divorce.

I was suddenly a widow, but the truth is my marriage died five or six years before he did. My friends told me it happens to many couples after the birth of their second child our sex life started to cool. By twenty years in we might as well have been just friends or roommates and John, my husband, drifted to another woman. Partially my fault? Perhaps. The truth is that, like him, I too had drifted while married.

My name is Ann, but my friends and family call me Annie. Except for my college years, I have lived in this home on the coast of Maine all my life. John and I raised our two children in this house, which previously belonged to my mom and dad. With John gone and the children grown and moved away, the house is just too big, too empty, too needy, and holds too many memories, both good and bad.

The late-night police visit was over a year ago now and it is time to move on and start over.

I remain determined to rebuild my life. A friend in the business of selling houses tells me I can sell the house for seven hundred and fifty thousand dollars. She sounds like a real estate company commercial and mumbles something about location, location, location. Who would have thought that one day this old house would be worth three-quarters of a million dollars? My children will disagree, but with the right planning, it can be sold before they can object. It is time to move on.

With the money from the sale of the house, my eventual pension from teaching, retirement savings, and John's life insurance I can live comfortably for the rest of my life and travel, something John never wanted to do, except on business and we know where that led.

If I am going to move, and I am going to move, I want a home near the ocean but in a year-round warmer climate. No more Maine winters! With that warm weather in mind, I decided to keep our family's sailboat and move it to a new home in the south.

It is time for a road trip, and when I mentioned the idea to my friend Laura, she just looked at me thoughtfully for a moment, then smiled and said, "Thelma and Louise." We will be like the movie characters only it will be "Annie and Laura!" I do not remember inviting her to join me but here we are planning the trip South.

~~

About Laura...

I met Laura the summer after my first year of college. We drifted apart after that summer, and both married and had families. I met her again, fifteen or more years later, when her family moved to Maine. By then, what happened during that college summer was only a memory and a subject we both seemed to avoid.

Our families grew and the children of both families matured, moved, and started families of their own. Laura and I stayed friends and when her husband became ill, I was there for her. Covid eventually took his life and on the day of his memorial service, I was at her home helping in any way I could. As family and friends left, we eventually found ourselves alone with time to talk.

I learned that like mine, her marriage had cooled over the years. She told me about a friend we unknowingly had in common, Steve. She told me: "I met Steve at a community social function, but I admit, I was looking for something and even though I was married, I flirted and invited his advances.

My experience with Steve was similar. Laura and I unknowingly both drifted out of our marriage vows with the same man. I met him about a year before my husband died and we dated several times over a few months before, as it always does, I guess, sex became an inevitable issue. Steve was married for over twenty years to his high school sweetheart until she died suddenly a few years before he and I met. We are both in our early fifties and I liked him enough, I guess, but more important for me at that time was that with him I felt the chemistry my marriage had lost.

From our first kiss the passion, I knew only a few years before, returned. To be blunt, he made me wet. We never discussed race and the fact that he is White and I am Black never came up except once after we made love when he kiddingly with a big smile on his face said, "Now I know why people say you can't go back." I knew what he meant but did not say anything because at that moment he was lowering his face between my legs.

There is something special about mature adult sex, I think. There are no expectations that might not be met, just relaxed rewarding pleasure. Steve is physically fit and, in that way, everything I could have wanted. He is fit and works out three or four times a week. I had noticed his erection on occasion barely concealed by his clothing. My husband John was average, I guess, so I was curious about just how gifted Steve might be.

I would learn that in addition to a rock-hard penis and a flat stomach, he has one other redeeming quality. He is skilled and uninhibited in oral sex. My favorite sex act, if there is just one, is mutual oral sex. That part of sex with him was more than satisfying. He brought me to the edge several times and I quickly had a most delicious orgasm. I thought I was satisfied but he was persistent and when he then rimmed me repeatedly, I had the best orgasm since my twenties.

Each time we made love, he had been considerate and put on a condom before he entered me, so I was not too worried about getting pregnant but at fifty-one I was still capable so the next two weeks, until proof came along, were tense. However, the time with him lying on top of me, in me, with me trying hard to thrust back against him to please him, reminded me of past passionate sex. I also gained a new life lesson that would serve me well in the coming months and years, I did not have to be in love to make love. Love might come again but right then I needed sex and the feelings and emotions I had while making love with him satisfied my needs, at least for now.

Steve was, I think, only the fourth or fifth man I have been with, and I can now tell you, dear reader, that size does matter. His penis could only be described as magnificent and filled me to orgasm like none had before.

But even as it was happening, I suspect we both knew, I know I did, that it was a one-act play, nothing that would lead to more than sex and friendship. I do not know if he ever realized I was married.

~~

Was I telling you about Laura?

I first met Laura almost thirty years ago in the summer after my first year of college. I was living in a small beach cottage for the summer in a community about fifty miles from my parents' home. The cottage belonged to my mom and dad, and I had taken a summer job nearby. I had to be at work on some days early in the morning and other days late at night and Dad insisted I sleep at the cottage to avoid the long drive so early or late in the day. My parents promised to sometimes join me at the cottage.

On an early morning walk on the beach just after dawn, I first met Laura. She looked to be about my age, maybe a year or more, older. I was just at the turning point of my two-mile walk, and she was coming the other way. We said hello and introduced ourselves at the same time, nice and easy. We walked and talked, and I learned her name was Laura. As we talked, I found out that she lived with her parents several miles away and was also working in the area for the summer.

When we approached my cottage, she still had some distance to walk to her car, so I invited her to join me for morning coffee or a cold drink. Sitting on my deck under the awning we learned a little more about each other.

Laura expressed an interest in also, like me, living on the beach herself, and after a quick tour of my cabin, we talked about what it was like to live alone in a small space, and she asked about rentals in the area. She told me she was planning a weekend, maybe longer, escape from her parents and wondered if my second bedroom might be available? I told her I would speak to my parents but did not commit.

Talking to her was like reading a book by opening it at random places. Disconnected snippets of her life, her opinions about politics, her career goal to become a successful artist, and, of course, her views on relationships and....... sex.

We talked about dating, and she told me that, for her, relationships are better characterized as "catch and release." She tried to explain that if the chemistry is there, sex might follow friendship, or maybe not, but certainly not love, not now. Laura is a complicated woman but in reality, talking to her is like looking in a mirror on some things, opposites in others, still uncertain and confused in others. I had never met anyone quite like Laura, but it seemed from our first words like we had known each other forever. There was sexual chemistry, I just did not recognize it at the time.

She was, I felt, very open and honest with me, a virtual stranger, about her sexuality almost to the point of being blunt, perhaps trying to get me to talk more about myself. She told me that after being unsatisfied with relationships with boys she admitted to herself that she was bisexual. She smiled, touched my arm, told me she did not know why she was telling me all this, and claimed she had never shared those feelings with anyone. Almost inviting me to push the subject, and out of nowhere, she said that as much as she loves sex, complicated relationships are difficult to manage as she worked to earn tuition.

As we talked, I noticed that Laura had a tattoo bracelet on her left wrist. Narrow but detailed and colorful, "a gift from a friend," she said. I also noticed that she has the outline of a small blue Dolphin tattooed on the left side of her neck with a date under it, and perhaps a name in script above. I asked about it, but she only said, "to remind me of a sad time in my life." For a moment I find myself wondering, no wanting to see, what other art is hidden on her body.

I learned that Laura, like me, is twenty years old. I initially thought, but did not know, that she is mixed-race. Light olive skin, perhaps part Italian with maybe some Hispanic or, like me, Black ancestors. In this day of often blended race anything is possible. Then again, she could just be a White girl with a great tan.

Her breasts are large, round, and high on her chest. She is not wearing a bra and her nipples which were hardly noticeable when we started talking on our walk are now more visible pressing against the fabric of her top. Laura has dirty blond hair and eyes that are the steel light blue that drill holes in your mind.

After a while, she checks the time and mentions that she must go but she is looking directly into my eyes, and she pauses and puts her hand tentatively on my knee. I feel her warmth travel along my thigh to my center. Chemistry? She says, "I earn tuition sketching quick caricature portraits at the Marriott on the beach. Deep in your eyes, I see green. I would love to paint your picture someday and try to capture that color." I find myself questioning my chemistry with her. She sees it in my expression and smiles, inviting me to say something, anything, to let her in. I do not.

We part company both saying we hoped to see each other again. When she bends over for a moment to put on the sandals that up until then she had been carrying. I see very clearly that she is wearing a red thong and her revealed pale butt cheeks and tan line hint that her olive skin may indeed be just that early summer tan. A long, colorful, scroll tattoo is on her lower back previously partly hidden just below the top of her shorts.

As she walks away, I see from her toned very defined, calves, and thighs that she, like me, spends a lot of time walking. She is walking away, and I see her look back. She sees me watching and smiles and waves. I see more clearly the very clearly defined muscular butt cheeks working under the fabric as she walks.

I find myself wondering if when people watch me walking away, they think I also look sexy. I sometimes, ok often, think the sexiest, most beautiful part of a woman's body is her butt and legs.

Unlike Laura, at that time I had little if any sexual experience with other women, and after she leaves, I wonder if I disappointed her with my lack of real response to what I now more clearly see were statements meant to tease me into acknowledging interest. I also question why I am sexually interested in her. I am in unfamiliar territory.

~~

The very next day my mom, Robin, paid a surprise visit to the cottage. She is driving Dad's old Ford truck loaded with things she insists I cannot live without. I remember as we started to unpack that the truck held all the things Mom and Dad moved to the cottage pre-season and then brought back home at the end of the season, Labor Day. Window fans, beach towels, food, and wine (thanks Mom!) all find their way inside. Mom also brought Chinese food, my favorite!

Mom and I always had, I thought, a close, open, and honest relationship but that changed when I moved away for college. There were just few opportunities to talk. As I was awakening in many ways and sexually, Mom was miles away.

But we are alone together now, and the wine and food make conversation easy. I tell her about John, a boy I met in school. She listens, then asks in her way if John and I were sexually active. I am honest and mom, a nurse in her everyday life, must bring up STDs and birth control, a conversation we should have had when I was in high school.

Then surprisingly, like she is trying to catch a bus that has left the station, she asks details about my sexual experience. She wants to talk about orgasm and asks if he satisfies me. Another bottle of wine is opened, and two glasses are again filled as we talk. I do not know why, maybe the wine helped but her mentioning sex liberates me and I tell her, I am sure, more than I should have. I feel however that we have opened an honest and needed dialogue.

The conversation shifts from John, and I tell her about Laura. As I am speaking, I am trying to dance around my feelings and confusion with Laura. Mom sees what I am hinting at, just smiles and says, "Baby, I have had a few girlfriends like your Laura in my life. It's just not something I talk about, but I think a close relationship between two women is more common than most people would admit."

I am genuinely surprised. My mom? "Mom, are you saying you, (long pause) have had a woman a lover?"

Mom just smiles again and tells me, "I think is different for girls. Sometimes you meet someone, and the chemistry is overwhelming and then it does not matter if you are the same sex. I am not sure it is true for men, but it has been true for me. My friend Julie and I had gone shopping, or to a meeting or something, and we were having a glass of wine in our living room. She took the initiative and kissed me and the next thing I knew we were naked in bed, and I was doing things with her I had only read about. Annie, if you are honest and discrete, no one need get hurt. I hope you do not think less of me because of this but as I get older things that used to be off limits for me are now acceptable."

She adds, "Before you ask, no, your dad did not know, at least not initially. I honestly thought it was a one-time thing and would not happen again. I really did, but then almost every week we met at one of our houses. I became obsessed with her and even found myself thinking of her when your dad and I were fucking. I noticed that mom's language was changing. With each glass of wine she drank she used more words she would never have used otherwise.

Mom hesitated and began again, "Annie, I'm only telling you all this because I think that if you ever see this woman Laura again you should know that until one of you takes the initiative and does more than talk, you will never know." I knew that was a lie. Mom wanted to talk to someone about this "secret" part of her life. I was that someone.

Mom continued, "Annie, I meant to tell dad but ran out of time. He caught us together naked in our bed one afternoon. I thought I heard a car door close but dismissed it because he always opened the garage door and drove into the garage and I did not hear the garage door open. I did not know that Julie's car was in front of the garage blocking it."

"He must have heard us in the bedroom. When he opened the door, we froze. Julie's face came up slowly from between my legs and I heard her whisper, "Oh fuck."

"Dad just stood there for the longest time and then turned and walked out. We heard his car start and he left. Julie was in a panic. "My husband cannot find out! He will leave me this time." She quickly dressed and left, and I was left wondering why she added "this time" to her concern about her husband finding out? Did he catch her cheating before? The long wait began. I called his office, but he did not answer. A long few hours later I heard the garage door open. He was home. When he entered the room, I tried to say something, but all the words I had rehearsed were gone. He said, "I am sorry I interrupted your fun. Do you have other girlfriends and boyfriends?"

I replied, "Just Julie. Can I explain?"

He cut me off and said, "you do not have to explain, and nothing must change between us if it is only women." There was a long pause. "And occasionally, you let me watch."

Later that night I called Julie and told her what "we" agreed to. She simply commented, "We have no choice, do we? I will do whatever he says. My husband can not find out."

So now I know that even in her forties, Mom's long-time friend Julie is more than just a friend. Mom is, I think, honest without revealing too much. "My first time with Julie was for me very much like what might happen to you with Laura. She was more experienced than I was and not at all timid in suggesting what I might do to her, for her, in bed.

I am now curious. "Mom? Did you and Julie ever let dad watch?"

I noticed that although we have nearly finished that second bottle of wine, I am just now starting my third glass. Mom is clearly not driving home tonight. I suggest she stay the night and ask if she might like to go for a walk on the beach. She smiles and without another word removes her jeans and sandals, saying she wants to walk in the water and did not bring a change of clothing. Her micro red thong seems so out of character but maybe I just do not know my mother all that well after all. Her top just covers her butt."

"Almost before I can react, she turns, slaps her own behind, and is out the door onto the deck yelling, "come on Annie, hurry up!" I run into the bedroom, slip out of my shorts, and put on my two-piece bathing suit bottom under my tee shirt, and start after her. As we step off the deck on to the sand, I happen to glance at the rental cottage next door and notice that a light is on. Walking near the water we splash and walk in the waves as they splash our legs and feet. The water is cold, very cold but feels energizing on our feet and legs."

I ask again, "so Mom, are you going to tell me about letting Dad watch? If you do not want to it is ok, I understand."

"Oh, I do not mind telling you Annie. We did set up a time, but it is not what you might expect. I had hoped that Dad might let it go if I did not see Julie anymore. She and I had not been together since he found us and neither of us was looking forward to him watching or worse wanting to take part."

Mom hesitated. "Annie, I hoped he would just sit in the room and watch but he had different ideas. I am not sure how much I should tell you. I do not want you to think badly of me or your dad."

I reach down and splashed her a bit with icy water. "Mom, tell me everything! Seven hours ago, I did not know we had similar feelings about sex, now I do, and I want to know every detail. Tell me!" I notice that I am now admitting to 'similar feelings.'

Mom was holding my hand and squeezed it. "Ok, ok!"

"His plan was to meet with us at our house. We were to be fully clothed. We were on time, but he kept us waiting for an hour. When he arrived, he asked us to follow him into the bedroom where he told us to strip each other as he watched. I noticed that as Julie took my top off her hand was trembling. He then told me to sit in the chair I thought he had set up for himself.

He approached Julie and told her to take off his clothing as I watched. As she worked, he touched her, her breasts, and her butt. When she pulled his pants and underwear down to the floor he took her head in his hands, pulled her toward him, and said, 'kiss it.' Annie, he was already getting hard as she kissed it. When she looked up at him, he simply said, 'you know what to do.'"

Mom was turning back toward the cottage, but she continued talking, "Annie, Julie knew what he wanted and did not hesitate to suck him. He held her head as he swayed back and forth, in and out with each thrust pushing himself as deep into her throat as he could. I noticed she did not gag; I know from experience that I would have. I also noticed that she put her hands on his butt cheeks to pull him in."

The story continued, "After a while he pushed her away and told her to sit on the bed. When she did, he asked her what would happen if her husband found out about her cheating. She started to say she had not cheated but he cut her off 'What would he do? Leave you?'"

Mom paused for a moment and asked, "Annie, are you sure you want to know all this?"

She did not wait for an answer but continued, "Julie hesitated but said, 'He would not leave me, but he would punish me.' The next question was waiting 'should I punish Robin?'"

"Annie, I think all along his plan was to punish me in some way. I found out how when he made Julie stand and take his clothing off. When she pulled down his pants and underwear it was clear from his erection that this was exciting to him.

What was going to happen became clear when Julie started to suck him. He was looking directly at me the entire time."

"Annie, I will tell you more, all the details, if you want but, in the end, he fucked her from behind on the bed not five feet from my face. It seemed to go on forever as he touched her and complemented her on so much tighter, she was than me."

We were approaching the cabin, and I sensed that mom had said all that she would say. As we get near the cabin outdoor shower, mom pulls her top off over her head and walking behind her I see her in the moonlight, almost naked for the first time. I imagine that is how I will look in just a few years. I am surprised that all day she has been braless, and I did not notice. Her breasts are larger that mine but still quite firm. The cold ocean water has put our almost identical nipples on full attention. As she moves ahead of me to turn on the shower, I silently thank Dad for sending a plumber out to fix the hot water heater.

The water was warm and as I washed the salt off her legs, she thanked me for letting her tell the story. I will never be sure why, but my hands drifted higher, and I was washing her butt with my fingers between her cheeks exploring. When my hands found their way between her legs and my fingers slipped into her slightly, she pushed me away saying, "No Annie, we cannot! I want to but am your mother!"

We found our way inside and to towels. Mom slept in the second bedroom that night and by morning she was gone but left a note saying she loved me, but the love of a mother can never allow what we almost did last night. She promised to visit soon and reminded me that last night did prove we can share and talk about anything.

~~

Two days later there is a green Volkswagen "Beetle" parked behind the rental cottage next door. I walk over to say hello but my knocks on the door go unanswered.

The following day was a day shift day for me and when I left early in the morning for work, I noticed that the Volkswagen is gone. Strange I did not hear it and its owner leave. When I returned to the cottage at about three in the afternoon the VW is back. I washed myself in the outdoor shower as I sometimes do after work and noticed for the first time that anyone standing in the window of the rental cottage can see me naked head to toe. I made a mental note to have the shower enclosure repaired to give me some privacy.

I went inside, finished drying myself and and slipped on only a tee shirt and sat on the cottage deck with a bottle of beer. As I looked out at the ocean, and the beach I saw someone headed it seemed toward me. As the distance closed, I saw it was Laura. When she was close enough for me to hear her over the sound of the surf, she said hello and asked if she might join me. I did not answer aloud but simply extended my arm and hand welcoming her up the stairs.

I asked, "Cold beer or wine?"

She replied, "Beer sounds great. In your fridge?"

I nodded 'yes' and said "pick your favorite. I have a few to chose from in there" and she stepped into the cottage to get one.

When she returned, I asked, "Your VW?"

She did not say yes but simply nodded, sat down next to me, and said, "Looks like we will be neighbors for a few weeks."

I replied, "I like that idea." She smelled like the beach, that suntan lotion smell I love. I looked down and noticed she had put her hand on mine on the arm of the chair. She squeezed it gently.

Laura looked at me, and said, "I watched you shower today. I thought I saw you shower with another woman the night before last. Was I mistaken?" She did not wait for an answer but added, "If you do not want me watching you really are going to have to put up a fence panel to block the view."

I remember mom's words, "Unless one of you takes the initiative you will never know."

I looked at Laura and said, "The woman you saw me with is my mother but it was not what it seemed to be." Laura has a surprised look on her face, and I started to say something but decided to let her think what she would. Instead, I asked her, "Laura, do you and I have unfinished business?"

A smile replaced the surprised look on her face. She stood and pulled me into a standing position as she said, "I didn't think so, but I do now."

Before I could reply, her lips were on mine and we were kissing. I felt her hands on my butt cheeks squeezing them. I pushed my tongue between her lips and pulled her close almost asking for more. In an instant both our tops were gone, and our breasts were pressing hard against each other.

When I realized that people on the beach were looking at us, me naked, Laura topless, on the deck, I pulled her into the cottage. Mom was right.

I laughed to myself when I realized that we were falling into my bed still kissing that first kiss. I was looking at the color differences in our bodies. My dark skin against the brown of her chest, arms and legs and the pale white of her breasts and hips was very erotic. I watched as she pushed my legs up and lowered her head between my thighs. I felt her hands pull my butt cheeks apart and her fingers explore me there. Laura was delicious in every way. When she shifted position my lips and tongue parted her labia and pushed into her. The musk of her vagina was very strong. She was taking what she wanted while pushing herself and her clit against my lips.

Suddenly she moaned and my mouth was flooded. Her juices did not have a particular odor or taste. She pulled my face up to hers and kissed me while licking me. I had never experienced a woman licking me before and I wanted more. I put my hand between my own legs and wet my fingers. I then put those fingers in her mouth. When she saw what I had done she sucked my fingers and used her own hands to push my fingers further into her mouth until she gagged. Catch and release was at play that week and for the rest of the summer.

~~

Fast forward ten years and she and I meet again but this time as married women. Fast forward another ten years and she and I have been friends for over ten years now. She was my confidant for all our 'husband' issues. That friendship took on special significance when I lost him. She was a rock to me and reassured me that life would go on. I, in turn, tried to be her rock when her husband died from Covid just a year ago.

Yes, we are now widows, friends both with grown children.

When John was killed Laura knew about the cheating so there was no pretending. She also knew that meaningful sex with my husband John ended long before. In all the years I had known Laura after that one beach summer, she was in public a 'modest skirt, top buttoned up to her neck, kind of person.' I always felt however, that there were secrets hidden behind her oh-so-proper appearance.

Now alone with her in her living room and both of us slightly drunk, only days after her husband's memorial service Laura and I had the time to sit and talk about our marriages, our husbands our children, and our plans. She wanted to know all about John, my husband, and my past and she wanted to tell me about her life.

As we talked and planned the trip, I started to see a side of Laura I had not known. Our conversations were about memories intermingled with stories about the people in our lives. Travel plans included a stop in Boston Massachusetts and Richmond Virginia as we headed south, eventually to Jacksonville Florida, and then from there, without her, I would continue to the west coast beach towns of Florida. Over just a few days of planning with of course many glasses of wine, Laura's personality changed, a little at first then more over just what seemed like just a few days. The woman who was reserved and obsessively modest in public became again the Laura I knew on the beach so many years ago.

There was, it seemed, an unspoken willingness between us at that time to tell each other what had been private or just hinted at until then with each of us pushing the other for details. It was as though we wanted to relive each other's experiences by talking about them. I felt a hint that more than talk was on the horizon, but I am again getting ahead of myself in telling you this story.

Our first stop as we headed South, we decided, would be Boston Massachusetts and Laura would make hotel reservations. I spent my college years in the city and Laura had never visited. There I hoped, despite the years and many changes in the city, I could show her the magic of the city I lived in for five years. With our talk about Boston and my college years, Laura asked for more details of how I met John. At her urging, I explained, "as an interracial couple in the late seventies, one might think we were trendsetters, but we were not. We were just two college kids who could never get enough of each other and sex."

I continued, "John was my first. I was a first-year student, and he was a little older and yes, I was old to still be a virgin, but it was the late sixties, and I was. I knew on that second date when his hands found my breasts that I wanted more. My breasts have always been extremely sensitive and John's hands on them were magic. John for his part was insatiable, masterful so; to use the language of the time, he went from first base to home plate, and I lost my virginity in one second date evening."

There was more, there always is, "After college, as we settled into married life John remained insatiable. He was always looking for sex, but John was exceptionally talented, uninhibited orally, and had a body and a penis that could only be described as magnificent, so I never refused."

I hesitated but told her, "There were times, however when I thought John tested my willingness to give him all he wanted. Particularly after the difficult birth of our second child, I became less willing. I found ways to be less available."

I could tell that kLaura wanted to know more about what I meant by "willingness to give him all he wanted" but the conversation focused on his cheating and then shifted to her life.

Damn, here we go again. That part of my life is over. Why am I thinking about this? More importantly, why am I telling Laura about it? Why do I feel a need to tell Laura still more about myself and my feelings and desires?

Laura for her part claimed to have not been a virgin when she married but was experienced. As we drove toward Boston, she told me, "My marriage was a mistake and only happened because I got pregnant and he 'did the right thing' as people said back then. I should have known from the first time I let him fuck me that he was not the right guy."

There is that word again. Turned out she explained he was a virgin and came with only two strokes leaving her unsatisfied and she would later learn, very pregnant. In the first year of marriage, her husband did not meet her needs sexually, but she also realized that he would was a good provider and seemed to love her, so she stayed with the marriage.

Two years and one more child later, she drifted out of those marriage vows. I was learning that Laura was not the woman I thought she was. She stayed married because of him and the children yet unknown to anyone except her husband she found the sex she needed, sometimes with businessmen at hotels and with a few local women. The women, she said, were all married and kept their adventures also very secret.

j

I wondered how I could have known Laura for so long without knowing or even suspecting she also had more than a flirtation with the 'soft side of sex' the whole time.

As we talked, she asked more questions about me and my marriage to John. She offered a few facts about her life that I now feel were only given to prompt more information from me. I think to tease me into saying more she confessed to the affairs without initially being graphic, but two things became clear, she and her husband had an open marriage, and she was very much in control.

She did tell me that the answer to satisfying sex with her husband was, in the end, quite simple. She made him give her oral sex until she had a satisfying orgasm. Only then did she let him fuck her and only sometimes. Laura confessed that her husband for his part was always willing to let her meet her needs with others if she told him everything, all the details as he went down on her. I never expected that of her. It just did not fit the image she portrayed, to me, to the world.

We were on the road, headed South when somehow her admission that she had continued to have sex with women opened a door and I told Laura about my experience with what I call the soft side of sex and domination. The only two women in my life sexually after that first summer were a college roommate who amounted to nothing, and Monica, an Asian woman who found her way into my life about eight years ago, worked her way between my legs and into my bed. I felt somewhat boastful, as though I was matching her stories, when I told her that like her, I confessed my infidelity to John and Monica joined us as a threesome for a while.

I said things and admitted to feelings I perhaps should not have. I tried to explain that Monica and I did not just end up in bed out of passion or sexual need. Monica, I thought, seduced me slowly over time and was very much more controlling than any woman I had known. Perhaps it was a mistake, but I told Laura that I liked the control Monica exerted over me. Was I trying to tell Laura I might want the same from her?

My experience with Monica fit exactly with how I was at that time with my husband, very submissive. I told Laura that it was not my idea to tell John about Monica but rather something Monica insisted I do.

Monica, it turned out, was not interested in John physically, and when he realized that he soon tired of her. For Monica, I think, it was about making me give her my most precious possession, my husband. Making me sit in the bedroom and watch him fuck her. I did try to explain to Laura how humiliated I felt when she made me rim her and lick her as John watched and masturbated.

It ended when out of frustration he gave me a choice. My family and him or her. I chose family, I could not lose my children or him for her. In any case, Monica had introduced me again to the "soft side of sex." I confessed to Laura that no other woman had entered my life that way since because of John.

We were in a Marriott built on a dock overlooking Boston harbor. Laura had just showered and rejoined me on the balcony as I sipped my wine, dressed in only a Red Sox tee shirt she bought that afternoon.

Laura asked, and I should have heard the message she was giving me, "Annie, you said you felt humiliated by Monica. I understand, but did you enjoy being humiliated? Did you enjoy sex with her dominating you and making you do things you would otherwise not do? Did you enjoy going down on another woman as your husband watched?

I hesitated, perhaps her question was a little too close to home, but in the end, I answered honestly, "Yes, both, yes I did."

Laura smiled, leaned in put her hand on top of my thigh, "I understand."

I knew when I put my hand on hers that I was consenting to whatever she demanded. She took my hand, motioned for me to stand, and we stood on the balcony in the warm evening air. Both in our newly acquired Boston tee shirts my Celtics and her Red Sox. She kissed me and then smiling, pulled me toward the bed. I did not resist or say anything as she pushed me down and knelt on the bed beside me. I did not resist as she moved between my legs, pulled my panties down and off. She smiled again and reached up under my tee and fondled my breasts.

~~

While we were headed toward our second stop, Richmond Virginia, Laura confessed something that should have warned me of what might be ahead. "Sometime in my third year of marriage, I met a man who offered to pay me to be his dominatrix. I was fucking him every time he was in town anyway, so I agreed but not for money." She laughed and told me she was a slut not a prostitute. Laura found it was a role and a new part of her sex life that she liked a lot. It fit her naturally dominant nature and allowed her to experience sexual extremes she would never have experienced with her husband. By referring one to the other, that first submissive man turned into a few regular clients, two men and one woman.

Two years later, a friend, the manager of the hotel she was using, warned her that the police were working the hotels in the area and that she needed to be careful. Laura said she gave it up when stories appeared in the newspaper of police cracking down and local women, housewives, some she knew, being arrested. She quickly gave it up and never went back to the hotels looking for men. She ended her story by saying, that until then, she never knew some people would want sex that way, but it satisfied a need she never realized she had.

The truth was more complicated. I did not tell Laura, but Monica had opened wants and needs well beyond humiliation that I did not know existed that persist to this day. I do not know why, I wanted to but didn't talk to her about the feelings of complete submission I had sometimes with John and how much I loved that same feeling as well with Monica. I just didn't know how to talk about it without seeming weak.

~~

We were in the Jefferson Hotel in Richmond Virginia when I felt Laura's hand on my thigh. I knew I should not have told her about Monica, but she had opened a faucet, and I could not or would not stop talking.

Laura described her role as a Dominatrix and how she felt when she was in that role. She even told me she had bought a black outfit of sorts to wear in that role. Then, out of nowhere, she offered to model it for me.

She had brought it with her, perhaps hoping for a chance to use it. Everything changed very quickly. More than one door opened as I watched the small modest hidden woman I had known for years become a beautiful naked woman and then quickly into a Dom as she put on her black bra, thong, and velvet collar. As she changed, she told me to tell her how it felt to be "Monica's slut."

I believe now that I had wanted for a long time to tell someone, to say out loud how II loved being someone's whore in the privacy of a bedroom. How it felt to open up that side of me, let him or her have their way with me, my ultimate submission, begging to be used in, anyway they wanted.

As I spoke, I watched her change and saw again how different her body was from mine. Laura is White and it was only seeing her naked that made it clear how different we were physically. Her breasts were larger than mine and yet firmer. The truth is, compared to Laura I have small breasts at 34 barely a B. I was envious.

Her hips were wider than mine, but her actual butt was smaller. She was naturally nearly hairless while I constantly battled my forest. I do not know why but I was fascinated by her oh so pink large areola and small actual nipples contrasted to my small, dark areola and thick longer nipples.

She approached me and without asking took my hand and motioned for me to stand in front of her. She came close and kissed me. Then with her mouth only inches from mine, she told me to take my clothes off. As I striped, she stayed close to me and touched me as my body became more and more exposed. I thought her hand was initially shaking as she caressed my breasts and then the hesitation was gone, and she was sucking my nipples and even gently biting them. She was helping me strip and touching my body in any way she wanted. When her hand went between my legs, she locked eyes with me and said, "Annie, you're wet. I can feel it through your panties. You want this don't you?"

I answered simply, "Yes since we left Maine."

I tried to touch her breasts through her bra, but she pushed my hand away and said, "I will tell you if I want you to do that." She sucked my nipples hard repeatedly and I felt the pleasure travel to my center. "They are so long so thick!" then she was pinching the nipple of my right breast, rather hard. I moaned and she said, "You like that?"

I moaned again and managed to say, "Oh yes." She did not hesitate and when I opened my eyes, she was looking at my face judging my reaction, and smiling down at me she said, "I thought so!" Then her hand was between my legs and having pushed my panties down and off, her fingers were probing. I was so wet, had been for hours, that her fingers easily found their way into me.

First one, then two, three? Sliding in and out, in and out, fucking me. Every time I was close she stopped and then restarted. When I begged, "Please Laura, let me cum." She touched my clit and I exploded. Then we were in bed and I was on my side when she pushed me onto my back. Laura pushed the covers off the bed and knelt between my legs. I looked and saw her thong was gone. She pushed my legs up and apart and just stared at my vagina. I knew I must have been dripping. She smiled and pushed my legs back together. Laura repositioned herself on her back and said, "Annie, I want you to lick me." I was surprised. It was not a request. I liked her taking control and without hesitation, I did as she asked. She was soaked and reached orgasm very quickly.

~~

Somewhere between Boston Massachusetts and Washington DC, on Highway 95, Laura confessed to having submissive feelings but for different reasons. She told me that about ten years ago she and her husband watched a porn movie where the characters engaged in anal sex. Both had of course heard about it but neither of them knew anyone who admitted to doing it. They agreed to try it and of course, their first attempt did not go well. She was too nervous, and he was not hard enough, plenty of blame to go around. But something changed for her in that first attempt. She told me that being head down on her hands and knees with him looking at her, all of her, and touching her in forbidden places was very erotic and something she wanted again.

So, Laura took the initiative and read about it and even went as far as simulating it with her dildo while her husband was at work. She liked the feeling a great deal. So, with a plan, she offered him a lubed condom one night and they tried again. He was smaller than her dildo so she managed it with no real pain.

We finally after a week, arrived in Jacksonville Florida and the only room available had a king-size bed. Laura had planned to join me on this road trip only as far as Jacksonville and then head home by airplane to rejoin her children for an important wedding celebration and so this was the end of our adventure at least for now. It was time to celebrate a great trip.

After a nice dinner, we returned to our room and finally had a chance to open the wine we had saved for our entry into Florida. We took the wine out to the hotel balcony and drank a glass or two as the Florida skyline such as it was faded into the distance.

As we reentered the room Laura approached me and pulled my top up over my head. When I started to speak she put a finger on my lips as if to silence me. She stood back a bit and began to strip. She went as far as the very sexy black bra and thong she was wearing and dared me to join her "in undies" out on the hotel balcony.

Laura held out her glass to clink mine and offer a toast. "To Annie and Laura, partners in crime."

We sat until the bottle was empty on a beautiful warm moonlit Florida night. Laura broke the silence, "First dibs on the bathroom side of the bed." She got up and reentered the room. I finished my wine and as I reentered the room, she was just coming out of the bathroom. She climbed into the bed and pulled the covers up. She looked at me and said, "Brush your teeth and come to bed sexy."

As Laura lay in bed she was thinking, "Such a romantic wonderful evening."

She told me later that she watched as I went into the bath and laughed at how thin the walls were. She said she heard me brushing my teeth and heard me peeing. When she heard water running, she wondered if I was washing myself.

As I came out of the bathroom and climbed into bed, I told her once again how wonderful this trip had been so far and said good night. I leaned over and kissed her cheek, and she also said good night.

Then Laura told me to get on all fours and spread my legs. I did as she asked. She laid down on her back and positioned herself, so my breasts were hanging over her face. Her hands were squeezing them, both hands on one, one hand on each, touching, flicking, and pinching my nipples. She was treating me the way I had always dreamed of being treated. I had always wanted my husband, anyone, to just take me, use me, and Laura was doing exactly that.

Laura got out of bed and told me to stay as I was. In only moments she told me to look back between my legs. I saw her face inches from my vagina. She licked the length of it up through and onto my bum hole. I said, "Please don't stop."

Laura again told me to look back. As I did, I saw she was holding the empty wine bottle. She positioned the neck at the lips of my pussy and pushed it in slightly at first, then deeper. She moved it in and out and I felt the ridges in the bottle mouth exciting my clit. She asked me if I wanted more. Laura warned me that she was at the thick part of the bottle. I said, "Yes more, more."

I had spent my life being willingly submissive to my husband and now, at least for this moment, Laura was dominant and exactly what I needed.

Laura's flight home left at six a. m. Just as well because I have ground to cover before nightfall.

Two days later.

I first heard about this part of Florida from a friend who moved here from my hometown in Maine. I am told that it is a neighborhood of younger and middle-aged professionals with a few old souls mixed in, diverse racially, and all that sounds right for a new beginning.

Join me shortly in "Widows -- Part 2