The Lonely Widow

Excerpt from “The Lonely Widow”

Enter at your discretion...

Enter at your discretion…

“My God,” groaned Sheila, as Tommy stabbed two fingers into her. The force of the action caused her to bow her back off the square oak kitchen table. Her legs hung over the side. Sheila slowly raised her feet up the backs of Tommy’s calves. Her eyes squeezed tight enjoying the feel of his fingers stroking in and out of her.

Pulling out his fingers, Tommy moved both hands up her sides towards her breasts. Leisurely he ran his tongue from her navel to her puckered nipples; gently sucking on one then the other. One hand move tortuously over her stomach and her slightly raised lower abdomen before sifting through the curls between her thighs.

Raising his head slightly, he looked over to the kitchen door and beyond to see Mrs. Stevens framed in the window pressing her breasts against the glass. Her eyes were focused on his hand as it twisted one way and then the other between Sheila’s legs. Returning his gaze to the woman beneath him, he removed his wet fingers and wiped them on her belly. Both hands slowly moved upwards once again to grasp her small breasts.

The nipples begged for his attention. Tommy’s torso flexed inward and he groaned as his phallus made contact with her pubic hair. Closing his eyes, he visualized Mrs. Stevens’ body beneath him and he hungrily opened his hot mouth on a taunt nipple, sucking feverishly. Sheila hissed, and grasped Tommy’s head.

Mrs. Stevens licked her lips, as she slipped her fingers between her legs. She avidly watched as the young lovers engage in their daily activity next door. Every day, Mrs. Stevens comes (pun intended) into to her living room to see the orchestrated show next door between Tommy and Sheila. It was much better than watching the Playboy Channel or the x-rated DVDs that she used to watch with her husband. Watching Tommy and his girlfriend have sex made it seem like she was in the room with them, and that Tommy was actually having sex with her, instead of his girlfriend.

She had become bolder at watching what was happening next door. Before she would hide behind her curtains, peep through a crack in the window, or hunker down where no one could see her. Now she boldly stood in front of her window; curtains no longer adorned it, so she could have an unobstructed view. The window ledge hid the lower part of her body. She forgo wearing panties, pants, or skirts to give her fingers access to her privates. Since Tommy had moved in several months ago, they have been exchanging platitudes about the weather or the neighbors.

Three weeks ago he had asked if she ever got lonely. Who doesn’t? But lately she was beginning to crave something more than companionship. Yes, she missed her husband’s laugh, and joking manner, and even his quiet demeanor of just sitting and snuggling. She had not been a highly sexed woman when her husband had been alive. They made love once sometimes three times a week, but lately she has been masturbating every day. Last week at a GYN exam she imagined having sex with her doctor on the examining table. She was so embarrassed by the thought that she made up some excuse and left the doctor’s office. They have been calling her each day to reschedule.

Sheila was now between Tommy’s legs on the floor and he was on the table. All Mrs. Stevens could see was Sheila’s auburn locks bobbing up and down between his legs. Mrs. Stevens’ fingers frigged herself faster. She reached up with the other hand and plucked at her nipples through the bra less T-shirt, which came to her thighs, and barely covered her bottom. She knew what they were doing and she wished she could exchange places with Sheila. Mrs. Stevens closed her eyes and licked her dry lips, as her hips began to move in time with her fingers. As she was about to come, the doorbell buzzed. She tried to ignore the bell, but it buzzed again. Frustrated and angry, Mrs. Stevens marched with swift strides skirting furniture to reach the door. As she got closer to the door, she finally realized that she was not wearing underwear and her fingers were still wet. She wiped her fingers on the front of her T-shirt, and moved the lower part of her body behind the door as she slowly opened it.

A tall well-dressed man in semi-business attire: striped blue and white tie, white button down shirt, gray slacks, and black shiny shoes stood before the door. His smile was so white it was blinding. He looked like a Morman come to preach the word of Joseph Smith. They stared at each other for a beat, before Mrs. Stevens remembered her manners to ask, “May I help you?”

“My name is Roger McDowell, and I’m selling sex toys–”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m selling sex toys door to door, because some people would like to buy them, but feel nervous and uncomfortable going into the various establishments like sex shops and the like.”

Not expecting that particular sales pitch from the handsome, blond hair blue eyed man, Mrs. Stevens’ mouth dropped open, and she shifted her lower body so that Roger saw that she was only wearing a T-shirt that barely covered her privates.

“Did you just say what I thought you said? Did you say that you’re selling sex toys?” asked Mrs. Stevens, shocked, yet titillated by the concept.

“Yes”, smiled the salesman. “May I come in to show you the catalogs?”

“You only have catalogs?”

“No. I also carry a wide variety of sex toys, oils, and scented candles.”

“Um,” Mrs. Stevens looked toward the window where her daily X-rated show awaited.

“Miss…?”

“Mrs. Stevens.”

“Oh, is your husband at home?” He asked looking beyond her into the house. “Maybe I could show you something together.”

“I’m widowed.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s been a while.” Roger saw that Mrs. Stevens was a little distracted and wondered if he had interrupted something. Mrs. Stevens was petite with white blond short hair. She was maybe in her early to late thirties he guessed. She was of slim built and had small breasts but not too small that they couldn’t fill man-sized hands. “Is there a problem?”

“No, not really… it’s just that… um… I.”

“There’s nothing to fear, I promise.” He held up one hand as if he was swearing in. The other hand gripped a black briefcase. “I’ll just show you the toys and be on my way. If you want, we can leave the front door open or maybe you can call one of your neighbors. I sometimes do this for groups. Here’s my card.” He reached into his shirt pocket and pulled out a white business card. “You could round up a few friends and I’ll come back with samples–”

Mrs. Stevens decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Who was she kidding? She wasn’t worried about him coming on to her, in fact if she was honest with herself, she wished he would do more than make a pass. Holding the door open wider, she invited him in and closed the door. Roger slowly entered the room not knowing what to expect. His penis stirred in his pants. He loved his job! He got a generous commission on his sales and great fringe benefits from his clients. If the clients were susceptible to his advances, he would use the toys on them to demonstrate their use.

The room was decorated very nicely and elegant white lace curtains hung from every window but one, which faced her next door neighbor’s yard. He gingerly sat on the edge of a large beige leather sofa. She walked toward him exposing herself to his fascinated gaze. She sat next to him and crossed her legs. The whiff of her arousal stirred him further. He hoped that she would be inclined to try the sex toys, or not. She smelled so fucking aroused that he wanted to do her all over her house. He quickly picked up his briefcase and placed it on his lap, hoping to camouflage or hide his tented slacks. The locks snapped open from the pressure of his big thumbs.

He has large hands. He removed a large pictured catalog depicting various adults in sexual positions from within, and then replaced the briefcase on the floor. The catalog now hid his tented fly, but not by much. Roger cleared his throat several times before he began his sales pitch. “We offer a variety of services and sex toys for every individual. We are a large organization of over five thousand employees and growing. There’s no obligation to buy any of the products that I will show you. If for any reason you feel that the toys you chose were not what you really wanted or needed, you simply return them to us, and we will refund your money. No questions asked.”

“What do you do with the used items that are returned?” asked Mrs. Stevens.

“We’ve never had a return. We’ve had 100% all very satisfied customers. I also demonstrate how to use the sex toys, but we also sell videos for introvert clients. All salespersons have an extensive and intensive knowledge of the merchandise. Would you like a demonstration of something in the catalog? We can look it over together while I explain what the items are and their uses.”

“Ok”, Mrs. Stevens scooted over to Roger until their thighs touched. An overwhelming feeling of lust ignited both of them. Mrs. Stevens wondered if he would demonstrate by using the items on her. Her insides quivered as she imagined him using that strange curved dildo on her or those silver balls. What were they used for? She reached forward and touched the balls. They were hard and made a metallic sound when she picked one up. Should she ask about them? Roger moved his hand under the catalog to shift his penis into a better position. Every time he inhaled he could smell her heady scent of arousal. Mrs. Stevens moved closer, pressing her pebble hard nipples into his arm.

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One thought on “The Lonely Widow

  1. Pingback: Book Review of “Hands On” | H.E.A. (Happily Ever After)

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