This morning started off a little differently than our normal routine. Normally Greg gets up and takes a shower before heading out and my day begins as it has for years, by fixing breakfast for everyone…only now it’s just Greg. This morning, however, I was eager to find out the result of last nights events. Perhaps I should take a step back and explain what happened last night?
I found it difficult to sleep but not for the same reasons. For the first time since, well since Nick’s passing, I found myself lying in bed not lamenting the absence of my husband’s body next to me. Instead I found myself excited and confused by the feelings rushing through me. Eva’s admissions had stirred inside me something that I knew to be wrong and sinful, yet I found it comforting to know that my best friend found nothing wrong with the act of pleasure with her own sons! My mind rebelled against the idea yet secretly I longed for Greg to come into my room like Eva’s son had done. I’m embarrassed to say the idea had left me feeling flustered and my body responded in kind by leaving my flower moist and sticky. I slowly slipped my fingers under my clothing to touch myself and think of the possibility of confronting my son.
After my fingers had penetrated my delicate region and the pleasure of orgasm had calmed my body, I was able to return to myself. I let my fingers rest on the soft skin of my labia, lazily toying with the silky folds of my womanhood. Almost without thinking about it, I slipped off the pajama bottoms and slowly unbuttoned my top. My only thought as I prepared to sleep nude, was of my darling Eva and her sons. Even though I found myself unable to sleep, I refused to take my medication. The shame of lying in bed nude, my naked skin touching the sheets, was too much for me so I slipped on my mask and lay naked in the quiet of the night. Time slipped by and every sound became magnified by the rush of excitement that stirred my mind and body. So it is difficult for me to say that the next series of events were real or imagined except to recount them as I remember. First I heard something in my room, my instinct was to remove my mask and call out but I resisted. I was both excited and terrified because it could have been my son or it could have been some fiend, come to murder me for all I knew. I listened and heard the unmistakable sound of breathing beside my bed! My heart pounded in my chest yet I forced myself to remain still and appear asleep. If it were Greg then I would find out what he does at night, if it were some horrible murderer then I reasoned staying still would convince him that I was not worth the trouble. The breathing became more erratic, almost as if someone were somewhat out of breath or, and I refused to believe it true, masturbating.
What happened next tested all my ability to remain calm. I felt the covers stir and a rush of cool air as the sheet and comforter were pulled back! Whoever was in my room now had a clear view of my naked breasts. The cool air created a prickle along my skin sending goose bumps up my arms. As the covers revealed my breasts, I heard an unmistakable intake of air as if someone were shocked or perhaps pleased. If it were my son, I fancied that he would be pleased. After all, I have fairly large breasts and Greg has often looked at them. Over the years I had developed the habit of many women with large breasts of pulling something over them when I notice eyes glancing at them. The act of reaching down and pulling a sweater or jacket closed has become such second nature to me that I found it difficult to stop the action even now as I faked my sleeping state. Instead I allowed the person I hoped was Greg to gaze upon my large breasts without resistance. I almost let a slight whimper escape as the covers were slowly removed from my entire body. Lying on my back, I was completely exposed before the intruder. The intruder didn’t say a word but the breathing increased, erratic in nature and louder now. I heard the unmistakable sticky wet sound of furious masturbating. Whoever was with me, watching me lying naked and helpless, seemed to be about to beat themselves to death! It had to be Greg, his hand around his stiff cock, pre-cum soaking the length of his manhood, his hand working it into sticky white clumps that move up and down his long shaft with every stroke.
