A Gentleman and the Widow

We met online, innocently, really, instant messages on a forum, a simple hello at first and welcome to the site.

I replied with a thank you and how thoughtful.

He sent another message, "I found your bio interesting."

Of course, I had to ask, "How so? What makes it so interesting, different from the rest?"

A simple reply came from him, "Your honesty."

I was trying to write stories, erotica, and I was unsure of myself. He offered to help. How could I refuse? I sent him a writing sample.

He loved it. His message to me, "I woke with a woody for you."

Was there ever any higher praise?

By now we were emailing one another. A daily affair we started with encouraging messages to each other, a sexual innuendo here and there. He became a mentor, a motivator, and a muse.

We shared our histories, our loneliness. I was a widow of four years, he a divorcée, both of us still alone, neither of us finding someone special again. Eventually, we exchanged pictures, each of us assuring the other we found nothing but delight in what we saw. Then we exchanged more revealing pictures, and again assured each other that we found delight in all that we saw. Our daily emails continued, daily updates and quips, encouragement and successes, and a shoulder when needed.

One day that silly Carley Jepsen song came on, "Here's my number, so call me maybe..." I couldn't resist, my next email read the subject as the song title and the body as my cell number. He must have been online when I sent it, because it wasn't five minutes and my phone rang. I didn't recognize the number, but could only hope. "Hello?"

"Well, hello," the deep male voice said, "do you know who this is?"

"I hope it's Thomas," was my simple reply. We laughed, I could imagine a twinkle in his eyes and I heard the smile in his voice. Our phone conversation was as easy going as our emails; some would say we even "clicked".

Our relationship progressed and grew. Daily emails and almost as many phone calls. With each passing day our comfort levels increased, before long we could discuss virtually anything and feel comfortable that neither of us would sit in judgment. We bemoaned the fact that we were unable to meet, but hoped that our fates would eventually cross paths.

Fate did not disappoint us. It turned out that Thomas was traveling on business, to a city where I was also going to be. It also turned out that we would be at the same hotel. We couldn't wait to meet.

The day finally came when we would have our first face-to-face meeting. I was arriving early; he was coming later after some meetings. I left a message at the front desk, "Here's my number, call me: room 1452."

I went to my room, excited with the prospect of finally meeting this man that had become such a close friend. After my long trip I needed a shower and to change. I took great care in my appearance; since it would be an evening date I felt a simple black dress would suffice. I donned my matching black lace bra and panties, my black garter and stockings, slipped my dress over my head and stepped into my high heels. After a light application of make-up I was ready, nervous, but ready. I poured a glass of red wine and waited, using the time to respond to emails and write some.

I jumped when the phone rang. "Hello?"

"Hey there," was the simple response. My heart raced, I smiled, a little out of breath, "hey there yourself."

We met in the hotel bar. He was sitting at the bar nursing a whiskey and water. I stepped in the doorway, looking for him. Our eyes met, a smile spread across his face, a smile emerged on mine. Just like the movies, the room of people faded and we only saw each other. He was still in his suit. His tie was loosened just the smallest amount, a light five o'clock shadow was on his face, he stood. I walked to him, held out my hand to introduce myself. Before I knew it I was wrapped in an embrace as he whispered in my ear, "I'd know you anywhere, Veronica."

He ordered a wine for me. We sat and talked for a while at the bar, enjoying each other's company as if we'd known each other for years. It was a comfortable meeting, relaxed. We moved to the dining room. He ordered the steak and I the fish. Our conversation never lagged, we had a lifetime of conversations to share. It was time to part before we knew it. He walked me to my room and gave me a chaste kiss, turned and walked to the next door. By some fluke, by chance, or by fate's design Thomas had gotten the adjoining room. He smiled at me as he unlocked his door, "goodnight Widow."

I tossed and turned all night knowing that he was just next door, that there was only a closed door separating us. I wanted to knock on it, I wanted to leave my side open, I wanted so much more. But I remained proper. I didn't throw myself at him. I didn't leave the door open. I laid in bed and fantasized about the man I had finally met, he was the last thing on my mind as I drifted off to sleep.

We started the day with breakfast together. Thomas had ordered room service and when it arrived he knocked on our adjoining door, "Widow? Good morning my dear. I have coffee and eggs for you, if you'd like to come over."

We enjoyed a leisurely breakfast and made plans to meet for dinner before we started our whirlwind day of meetings and workshops at our respective conferences. The day went quickly and before I knew it I was meeting Thomas in the restaurant. He had ordered wine for me and was sipping his own drink.

"I ordered for you, I hope you don't mind," he said as he held out my chair. "I thought you might enjoy the shrimp scampi and a salad."

"Mmm, thank you," I murmured as I sat down, "and how was your day?"

It was another evening of enjoyable company and conversation. We charged our meals to our rooms and went to the bar for an after dinner drink and piano music. It was such a peaceful and intimate moment, we sat next to one another in a corner booth.

It was natural for his arm to rest behind me on the booth. It was natural that I snuggled in and rested my head against him as we listened to the smooth jazz. He reached his other hand up and with a gentle touch of his fingers lifted my chin so I could look at him, as he looked at me. He leaned his head in, he kissed my forehead, he kissed my nose, he rubbed his nose against mine and then his lips met mine. I closed my eyes and enjoyed the sensation of his soft lips moving against mine, his stubble against my cheek, his arm closing more tightly around my back, pulling me closer. His kiss became more demanding, his tongue felt along the small space left between my lips. A moan escaped, it had been so long since I had been kissed. I couldn't resist his advances, my lips parted and gave him entrance and waves of forgotten feelings flowed through my body. We broke away from each other, I was a little flushed, breathing heavier than before and he looked like the cat who had just eaten the canary. I looked away to gather my emotions and took a sip of my wine, he took a sip of his drink and shifted a little. I looked down and saw why, a smile on my face he couldn't see.

We continued to sit in contented silence. He placed feather light kisses on my head. We finished our drinks, paid the tab and walked hand-in-hand to my room. He pulled me against him, "come with me." How could I possibly resist?

We stepped a door over, he unlocked it, opened it and ushered me in. I felt like a virgin on her wedding night. We no sooner stepped in and closed the door when he pulled me to him and ravished my mouth with the passion we had been restraining all evening. He led me to the bed and he sat down and slowly began to undress me.

Turning me, I could see everything in the mirror; he unzipped my dress, running his hand along my spine as he did so. He slipped it off my shoulders and watched as it fell to the floor, his hands gently trailed down my back and across my buttocks as my dress formed a puddle around my feet. My eyes closed, self-doubt filled my mind until I felt the gentle kisses he placed on my in-memory-of-my-husband tattoo that was inked on my lower back.

I stood there, in front of him, in nothing but my undergarments. Tonight it was matching red bra and panties and my black garter and stockings. I was in heels still. He stood; I felt his body press against mine as he ran his hands around my waist to my stomach, playing with the extra pounds left from childbirth and other abuses. I felt his breath on my neck, his hands moved up my body and his fingers traced the outline of my nipples through my bra.

He whispered in my ear, "You. Are. So. Beautiful."

My knees grew weak; I leaned back into him for support. I felt him through his pants, straining against the material. He kissed my neck. I finally opened my eyes and looked in the mirror. He smiled.

I turned to face him, embarrassed by my wantonness, by my inexperience, by my need.

"Undress me," he whispered as he kissed my cheek.

Even after all my years of marriage, I had never undressed a man. I reached up and ran my fingers across his cheek and chin, down his neck to his collar. I undid his tie and began unbuttoning his shirt. My hands trembled as I uncovered his chest. I reached his belt and gently tugged his shirt tails out to finish. With it completely open, I ran my hands on his chest, feeling, remembering what it felt like to feel a man, to hold a man and to feel his warmth. I wrapped my arms around him and pressed my chest to him, my cheek to his chest, listening to his heartbeat. I placed a kiss over his heart, and brought my hands back, gently running my nails across his back and sides as I did. I unbuttoned the sleeves and slipped it off, adding it to my dress at our feet.

I looked at him bare chested, closed my eyes and swayed. His hands reached out and he steadied me. He pulled me close, "Oh, Widow, what you do to me. Don't stop."

My eyes cast down, my hands trembling, I reached for his belt. The gold buckle opened with ease. I ran my finger under the waistband, gently pulling it forward so I could undo the button. My finger tip brushed against his cock head, a jolt of electricity raced through my body, ending in my core. He strained against the zipper, I used my nails to hold the slider pull tab and ease it down. His waist band edges folded over and I could see him fully outlined in his briefs. I slid my fingertips under his pants' waistband at his hips and watch as they pooled at his feet with the rest of our clothes. I knelt before him, "If you sit, I'll take off your shoes."

Thomas sat on the edge of the bed, a hand playing with my hair, his other hand rubbing himself. I untied his shoes and slipped them off along with his socks. He reached for me and pulled me to him, lifting me to sit on his lap. His fingers played with the tops of my stockings, tracing under them and then up my thigh to my crotch, his finger tickling up and down on the material. I nuzzled his neck.

There was nothing hurried, no urgency, just a slow and steady exploration of each other. Before long I was reduced to my garter, stockings and heels and he was in the buff. We laid next to one another on the bed, learning the curves, the marks and the scars each of us bore.

My finger traced an ugly red mark across his stomach. "Oh, that's from my brother, he stabbed me there with a stick," he said as he regaled me with the story of being pirates and the sword fight with sticks and how he lost to his older sibling.

"That's from my dialysis," I explained as he played connect the dots with the multiple scar spots. "Sixteen months and more surgeries than I care to remember caused that band of marks."

His leg came across mine, his chest across mine, and finally his lips brushed across mine. I felt him against me, pressing into me, making sure I was aware he was there and ready. My hand trailed down his side and I slide my hand around him. He was hard, his skin taut over the swollen muscle. His breath caught and a low moan was music to my ears as I stroked and kneaded him. My thumb felt the first drop of precum and I smoothed it around his sensitive head. I felt his breath rush across my nipple as he bent to suckle. I arched into him as his hand moved from my hip to my breast. He had found the only place and the only time I was ticklish.

He slid down my body, leaving a trail of kisses as he moved from each breast to my stomach to my mound. His fingers parted me and his tongue tasted me. My fingers ruffled his head as he lapped at me. My eyes closed and I escaped to the feelings that were over taking my body. My hips rose slowly, moans softly leaving my mouth as he expertly excited my clit, my outer lips and my inner lips, sending wave after wave of emotion through my body.

"Look at me," I heard him say. I opened my eyes just a slit and gazed at him through hooded eyes. He was peering over my mound at me, his eyes twinkling and his tongue playing with my hooded clit. I couldn't hold back the smile. I watched as he slithered up my body, covering every inch of mine with his. His mouth on mine as his cock found my opening. He nudged in, I rose to meet him, and nature took over. He used long even strong strokes to fill me over and over again. My hands found their way to his ass and my nails held on for the ride. I was close, my hips rose, my back arched and my muscles squeezed. Waves of shivers rippled through my body and I felt him speed up, a few quick strokes and his back arched as he pushed further than before.

We curled together on the bed, wrapped in each other's arms sated from the sex. "I should go to my own room."

"Why do you want to do that? You should stay with me tonight." He leaned over and kissed me, held my face and erased any thought of leaving from my mind. He removed what was left of my clothing and we made love again. We fell asleep with him on top of me and still inside of me, contented and satisfied.

Before we knew it, morning was upon us. Neither of us wanted to move, I snuggled in closer and ran my hand along his stomach. He, of course, woke with a morning woody. I chuckled about it. He rolled out of bed and went to the bathroom, power of suggestion I followed as soon as he returned. "I'm going to hop in the shower as long as I'm in here, hope you don't mind," I called out from behind the closed bathroom door.

I got a nice steamy shower going and was enjoying the beating spray when a gust of cold air rushed across me. I wiped the water from my eyes in time to see him step in the shower, a smile on his face and a wash cloth in his hand. He stepped in and closed the curtain; reached behind me for the soap and began to create lather in the wash cloth. "Let me help you," he drawled as he stepped in close and began to wash me. I stood as he used a circular motion to soap my entire body from neck to toes, paying particular attention to my breast, between my legs and my butt. He took the shampoo and massaged it into my hair, making sure none burned my eyes. Then moving me under the spray he rinsed me off completely.

"Your turn now," he handed me the wash cloth and soap and smiled. We slid past one another, face-to-face, lightly brushing. I started on his back, taking care to soap him well, especially the crack between his cheeks. When done, I turned him to face me, the water spraying on his back and soaped his chest and down each arm, I watched the soap wash off as quickly as I applied it, the suds trailing down his stomach and collecting on the hair on his groin. I dropped the wash cloth and poured some shampoo in my hands. I reached up and washed his hair, looking intently at the glistening strands, I didn't notice as he put his hands up and pulled me closer, "You missed a spot".

When I finished rinsing his hair, I slid to my knees, running my hands down his sides to slow my decent. The wash cloth was under my knees, cushioning them; I reached for the soap.

I created lather in my hands and set the soap back down. I started at his feet and worked my way up his legs to his base, washing his testicles fully, feeling their heaviness and they settled in my hands. I then stroked his entire length, making sure I didn't miss another spot. I leaned back on my heels and watched as the water sluiced over his shoulders and down his chest to rinse him.

I reached out for him, wiping the excess water and soap from him. I leaned forward and took him in my mouth.

He moaned and reached to the sides of the shower to steady himself and shifted to spread his feet.

I moved my lips over his tip, my tongue explored his opening. I kept leaning forward, taking more of him into my mouth until finally my lips reached the fist holding his base. I could feel him at the back of my throat, throbbing against my tongue. I moved my head back, slowly, scrapping my teeth gently along his length, until only his tip remained on my lips. Again, I moved down his length, gently sucking on him as I drew him into my mouth, to the back of my throat where he could feel the moans as they vibrated over the back of my tongue.

Thomas moved his hands so they rested on my head, his hips pushed into me the slightest little as I moved up his shaft another time. I developed a rhythm sucking him in as I moved down his shaft and scraping my teeth along his length as I moved up. Meanwhile, my hand played with is balls, rolling them in the palm of my hand; I enjoyed the feel of their weight and smoothness as I juggled them. My index finger explored along the muscle between his sac and anus, and I gently applied pressure to his rim causing him to bend his knees and push into me.

"I won't last long you keep this up," he groaned, barely loud enough for me to hear. "Your husband was a lucky man while he was alive."

His last statement made me take pause; I looked up at him, his cock filling my mouth, and gently bit down. I watched as a smile spread across his face and he started to pull out of me. I sucked harder and wouldn't let him go. I went back to my rhythm, a little faster, enjoying the feel of him. His fingers tightened in my hair, holding me still, one final thrust and he filled my mouth with his cum. I swallowed as much of the warm fluid as I could, the rest dribbled out the edges of my lips, the water washing it away.

I leaned back and let the spray of water hit my face. He lifted me to my feet, used both his hands to wipe the water and hair from my face and kissed me. "Widow that was wonderful, thank you."

We turned off the water and stepped out. Instead of handing me a towel, he dried me off and then wrapped me in it. He wrapped his own towel around his waist. He pulled me close and kissed me again, pushing me up against the counter.

"We've got to go, we both have meetings," I managed to say in between his kisses.

"Mmm, let's blow them off and spend the day together. We can order room service and play in bed. I mean lay in bed." He looked at me, his eyes pleading, a crooked smile on his face, his hands exploring and his manhood peeking out to add its desire to the suggestion.

"Thomas, as inviting as that sounds, I have to go to my meetings today," I said as I removed his hands from my breasts and pushed him away, trying not to giggle as I did so. He pouted, but knew I was right. We finished dressing, I in my room and he in his. By the time we were done room service arrived and we enjoyed a light breakfast together. We made plans for our last evening together, tonight we would leave the convention center and venture into the city for a treat.

We met in the lobby and walked out into the crisp fall air of Syracuse. We could see the sky line as well as the Carrier Dome. We were traveling out of town to eat at the famed Brae Loch Inn restaurant in Cazenovia. After a wonderful meal overlooking the lake we went back to the city to explore the local night life. We ended at the Sophistications Jazz Cafe to listen to an up and coming local band. After a lovely evening of music and conversation, we decided to walk back to the hotel.