Jill lowers the blindfold and continues the routine she has practiced a dozen times since sending in her order. “One – two – three – four – five – six,” she counts out loud. Jill reaches down and touches the cushy seat covers of the bay window. She smiles as she lifts the blindfold to see she’s in the right spot. “Perfect! 9 and 6,” she says aloud.

Smiling, her gaze delights in the view of the gardens of the dream home she and Bill bought for their next stage of life. Then suddenly, she is a widow.

She whispers prayerfully to the gardens and the trees and her memories, “It is time, and I know you love this for me.”

The “Ding!” on her phone signals Mr. X is ready. A rush of titillation and terror courses through her body as Jill walks back into the hallway, pausing in front of the full-length mirror to admire her silky blouse and tanned legs. She imagines Bill’s reassuring voice: Oh yeah! I’d fuck ya!

At the starting point, she takes a deep breath, types “OK,” and hits Send.

Moments later, two knocks precede the opening and closing of the door.
The sound of his bag hitting the floor in the foyer breaks the silence.

“You look stunning,” X says, approaching, touching Jill’s elbow. She understands his nudge and turns so he can check the knot. “Very nice.”

Jill turns back around. Without speaking, X takes both of her wrists in his left hand and raises them above her head, pinning her against the wall. He reaches his right hand down to just above the inside of her left knee. He leans in, kissing her neck while simultaneously grazing his fingernails up her inner thigh.

“Mmmmmm,” Jill moans softly, instinctively pressing her thigh into X’s hand.

The unflinching skillfulness of X’s tongue and grazing fingers is devilish. But it’s X’s facial hair that gets her twinging. “You have a beard?” she asks excitedly.

“Goatee. Is that OK?”

“Oh yes. I don’t recall you… I like it,” she replies.

X presses his hand back against the inside of her thigh. His grazing thumb now rhythmically traces circles very close to her wetness.

X confidently bites on her lower lip, tugging it ever so slightly. Jill pulls her wrists from his grip, wrapping her arms around X’s neck, opening her mouth fully. The sensation of X’s facial hair on her lips makes her hotter. Jill’s nipples tingle under the silky fabric pressing against his shirt.

Sliding his hands down over her hips until he feels skin, X slides them back up, grasping her bare ass in both hands. Jill rises to her tiptoes and squeezes her arms tighter around his neck. They kiss hungrily, making out like touch-starved grad students on Spring Break.

Jill pauses first, signaling that she is ready to proceed. “Wait here for my signal,” she says.

X admiringly drinks in her walk-away sashay.

One – two – three, she says to herself, unbuttoning the blouse, wondering what X’s reaction will be.

Five – six – seven. The silk blouse melts off her shoulders, falling behind her onto the hardwood floor. Her thonged ass beckons.

X stares in silent appreciation. Whoa! Déjà vu?

Eight – nine. Jill stops at the opening of the garden nook, turns her head in the direction of X, and nods her head once. Her profile in the late afternoon light reflecting off the hallway mirror takes X’s breath away.

Jill continues her sashay and step-count into the nook. Four – five – six. She stops, then touches the base of the window bench with her right foot. She assumes the position of a standing letter X, with her legs and arms outstretched, fully open to the garden.

X turns into the nook to see the late afternoon sunrays adorning the goddess, presenting herself as an offering to her adoring subjects outside the window.  Are the rays emanating from her? From her heart?

 “This is a lovely setting.” His hands rest on Jill’s hips as he drops soft kisses on the back of her neck. Pulling her more tightly into him, he maneuvers his chin deliberately to her left shoulder, his intentional graze of her neck and cheek with his goatee teasing Jill mercilessly.

“Thank you,” Jill responds with a slightly higher tone.

Sliding his hands up Jill’s sides, X cups both breasts, caressing them gently. Jill lowers her arms, placing her hands on top of X’s, both guiding and appreciating his touch. As her pressure slightly increases, X’s thumbs graze her nipples. Jill’s moist pussy radiates up her core to her pert nipples.

X slides his hands from under Jill’s, then places them on top of hers, encouraging her to continue massaging her own breasts. Jill smiles out onto the garden. Her deceased husband, Bill, appears in her mind’s eye.

Returning his hands to Jill’s waist, X kneels behind her. He kisses behind her left knee, then does the same for the right knee. He moves back to the left, a little higher up, and to the inside thigh. He repeats the same for the other knee.

Jill’s self-caressing continues, fingers twisting her nipples with increasing intensity. The front panel of her thong is saturated.

Halfway up Jill’s left thigh, he switches kisses from his lips to his wet tongue, gliding slowly, purposefully up to the line where her leg meets her buttocks. Jill alternately squeezes her nipples and tits intensely. Her pussy is screaming for direct attention.

Jill envisions Bill sitting on the bench in the garden, stroking his cock as he watches Jill get pleasured. She desperately considers shoving her fingers down her thong to relieve the rising pressure.

X runs his tongue up the right inner thigh, pushing Jill even further into a headspin.

Sensing Jill’s heightened state, he grabs each ass cheek, spreading them while using a finger to slide her butt floss to one side. His wet tongue darts in between her cheeks at the bottom of her spine, just above her anus. While he runs his tongue up her spine, a rivulet of spittle dribbles down, teasing her puckered hole.

Jill is dizzy.

X stands and grabs a handful of her hair near the bottom of her scalp, pulling upward and back, sending Jill into a freefall of primordial powerlessness, like a kitten being carried to safety in its mother’s mouth. She purrs and melts back into X’s chest. He kisses her neck and slides his free hand under the string at the hip, then pauses. Jill releases, then re-grabs her nipples, twisting them in different directions as she presses harder back into X. His hand slides to her belly, then down under the soaked front panel of her thong, his fingers grabbing the outer flesh of her vulva.

Jill’s pussy throbs with the shameless anticipation of her lover plunging his fingers into her.

X squeezes together the outer folds of the skin around her pussy, teasing her with indirect pulses.

“Ohhhhhhhh,” Jill moans out loud as X presses his middle finger directly onto the wet folds between her legs.

X whispers, “Should I continue with fingers, or do you want my mouth on you now?”

Jill pushes her hips forward, pressing her steamy pussy against his hand. X slides his finger into her wetness, pressing her barely hooded clit.

Jill whimpers.

“I love this, but…” Jill pulses her hips into his fingers, squeezes her tits harder.

Jill’s head spins, her knees weak.
“Uh – uh… I want to fuck your face!”

X slides Jill’s thong down to her feet, then watches her feet work to kick them like she’s done hundreds of times. He rotates his body to sit on the bench while reaching for and holding Jill’s hand. He lies down on the window seat lengthwise with his knees bent and guides Jill’s hand to his face, signaling where she needs to park her quivering lips.

Jill straddles X’s face, now with one hand clenching his hair, the other holding the built-in bookshelf she knows but can’t see. Jill’s pussy is a hot, sticky, glorious mess of engorged labia and a glistening clitoris clamoring for attention. X holds her thighs steady and, with one open-mouthed move, sucks in as much of Jill’s pussy and clit as he can, and forms a vapor lock with his mouth.  Jill grinds hard, slowly, then fucks his face furiously, shamelessly switching between mashing her wetness into his goatee and leaning back to feel his fully committed suction stretch her clit out of her pussy.

It doesn’t take long. Her deep, guttural moan crescendos into a glass-rattling scream. Jill involuntarily leans her trembling body to her left, instinctively curling into a ball, liberating the million raw nerve endings in her pussy from X’s suction tool.

X slides out from under Jill, embracing her from behind, spooning like spent lovers do.

Jill wakes up covered in a cozy blanket on the window bench. The last vestiges of light paint shadows on her garden. She listens for any noise in the house; nothing. She smiles, pulling her blanket a little tighter. She says out loud, “You loved that, Billy Boy, didn’t you? Mmm-mmm. I sure did.”

She sees a wrapped gift box by her feet…