My wife died suddenly.
The little hospital waiting room, apparently reserved for those who will get bad news. Empty except for me. I dreaded the door opening, but it finally did.
“Mr. Rogers? I am so sorry. Your wife never regained consciousness.”
Her death was also unexpected.
That morning I had wakened first. She was sleeping with her back to me, her shoulder bare. I put my hand on it, felt her soft warmth, so familiar after all these years, yet still so amazing. I thought of all the years, the kids, the inevitable struggles, all we had been through. I had tears in my eyes as I thought about my love for her. I got out of the bed quietly and shaved and showered.
When I came out of the bathroom she was on the floor. Dead. A “cardiac event” was what the doctor later said.
All I knew was the love of my life was gone. I wasn’t sure I believed it yet. I was numb, but immediately immersed myself in contacting family members, consoling children and preparing for the funeral. A thousand details. All of them a burden. All of them necessary.
The funeral came and went, family left, the attention faded. I was back at work. The numbness was the only visitor that remained. When I woke each morning a weight landed on my shoulders and I carried it throughout the day, sometimes well into the night, until sleep mercifully intervened.
I tried to soldier on, carry my weight at the office, but I often found myself staring at the wall. How could I carry my weight when I was carrying my burden as well? Weeks dragged by, unbroken in their same numbness.
Then one evening the doorbell rang. I opened it and saw an attractive woman who appeared to be about my age. She had a great figure. She was vaguely familiar, but I had that awful dread that she knew me but I was not going to be able to remember who she was.
“Jim? I’m sure you don’t recognize me. We haven’t seen each other since you left for college.”
It all came flooding back. We had dated for two years in high school. My first real love. We lost our virginity to each other in the back seat of my car.
“Sue! How are you? You look stunning!” She really did. I was willing to bet she did not weigh twenty pounds more than in high school. That beautiful blond hair was now shorter, more appropriate for our age. A figure that was even hotter than when she was seventeen.
“Can I come in?”
“Of course! Where are my manners?”
I closed the door behind her and turned. She took me in her arms.
“Jim, just listen for a minute," she whispered, "I heard about Karen. I am so sorry. I live about an hour away, but when I heard I knew I had to come and see you. I know what you are going through. Five years ago Dan died...”
“I didn’t know.”
“That’s ok, it was only by accident I heard about your loss. Losing Dan was the hardest experience of my life, so I know how it is for you right now. I knew I had to come and talk, even let you cry on my shoulder.”
I did. I had held it in, but I couldn’t hold back now. Looking back, it seems strange that I would cry on a stranger’s shoulder. But she wasn’t a stranger. She was the closest friend I had ever had, next to Karen.
Often when people stop seeing each other, it isn’t that they fall out of love. They just find someone they love even more. Sue and I had done that, had each married happily, raised families, and now were alone again. The circle of life. Here we were, holding each other and crying.
“Jim, I know it sounds hollow right now, but it will get better. What you need is friends. Can I be your friend again?”
I couldn’t speak. I just nodded.
We sat on the sofa, holding each other. I spoke: “Sue, this is the same sofa we sat on and made out years ago. When my parents died I had it recovered. Mom never did know that was a cum stain!”
We both laughed.
“Those were good times, weren’t they, Jim?”
“Yes. I am a little surprised we didn’t marry. I’m not sure why we didn’t.”
“A lot of reasons, I suppose, but mostly because you were away at college. You met Karen and I met Dan.”
“I suppose. I have thought about you over the years, Sue, wondering how you were. I guess when you love someone that person reserves a permanent place in your heart.”
Sue didn’t answer. Looking down, tears in her eyes. Then she looked into mine.
It was one of those scenes from the big screen. Slowly, almost imperceptibly, we moved toward each other. At what point do two people know they are going to kiss?
The years seemed to slip away. It was suddenly two 17 year-olds, sitting on the same sofa, kissing. It was not long before we were kissing passionately, our tongues entwined.
Suddenly Sue stood, flustered. “I am sorry, Jim. I didn’t come here to take advantage of your grief. I really should be going.” But she stood where she was. No movement for the door.
I stood, took her hand, and led her to the bedroom. I did not have to pull her down the hall; she came willingly.
We stood in the bedroom and kissed. I cupped her breast. She moaned into the kiss. She reached down and rubbed my hardness. My turn to groan. I began unbuttoning her blouse. She worked on my shirt. I discovered a very plain, white bra. I pulled the straps down, kissing the tops of her breasts. I remembered how much that turned her on. We kissed again and finished undressing each other.
“Jim, I really do own some sexy things. I wish I had worn them.”
I moved her to the bed and she reclined. I followed without quite breaking our embrace. I kissed her, moved lower and kissed her nipples, captured one with my teeth, then sucked gently. She held my head, wanting me to feast.
I started to move lower, but she pulled me up. “There’s time for that later. Right now, I need you inside me, filling me the way you did so many years ago. I have never forgotten that.”
As I moved over her, she spread her legs. One difference was plain to see. She had only a tiny landing strip, all else shaved bare. She was definitely wet, though. I could see that without touching. I positioned myself and entered slowly, agonizingly. Her legs closed around me, her feet behind my buttocks. With hands and arms and legs and feet she pulled me deep inside. We both moaned. It was distantly familiar, yet so different.
I pulled back and slowly penetrated her depths again.
“I’m not a virgin! Please fuck me hard.”
I needed no more encouragement! I thrust deep and hard. Then I began pounding her. After a minute or so, I reached back and caught her legs, and put them over my shoulders. She had played tennis in high school and had gorgeous legs. They still were. I rocked forward and began to plow her folds. Sue cried out. I held still, deep inside, while her climax abated.
Sue smiled. That was my cue. I slowly withdrew and slowly thrust in again. To the hilt. The smile was replaced with an open mouth. Clearly she was close to another orgasm. I stroked her again. She was close. Again. One more time should do it. She cried out. This time I exploded as well, my hot cum flooding her.
I stayed inside her, trying to rest part of my weight on my elbows so she could breathe. As I deflated I withdrew. I could tell copious juices were running out of her.
“Jim, I haven’t taken a lover since Dan died. That was my first time since 6 months before that. I’m a little out of practice, but there is something you need to know. In twenty-five years of marriage with Dan, he never gave me more than one orgasm. You are a magnificent beast.”
I laughed. That was what she called me when I fucked her all those years ago. A magnificent beast.
“Sue, it’s probably a little soon for my kids to have a stepmother, but why don’t you come over again in a couple of days. If you agree, I would like to make up for lost time.”
“I’ll wear my sexy underwear.”
I smiled. For the first time in weeks. I actually smiled.
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<a href="https://www.lushstories.com/stories/mature/the-circle-of-life.aspx">The Circle of Life</a>