Young Widow Finds Hot Sex

A Young Widow Sheds Her Sexual Repression

Alex dreaded the red eye flight back to LAX. The short but emotionally draining stay with her in laws was trying, leaving her more depressed than when she arrived. After ten years of marital bliss, Tom had passed away, snatched from her by an unforgiving bout with cancer. A dark cloud hung over the three-day reunion with his family, interrupted occasionally with cathartic laughter about better times. Tom's family adored Alex, begging her to return to Boston so she could be closer to the family. She appreciated their emotional support, but had established herself as a successful real estate agent in Southern California. Her work, friends, and life style were West Coast. She cherished her memories with Tom, weekend excursions to wine country north of Santa Barbara, surfing Malibu, skiing Mammoth, and strolling the Venice boardwalk. Those warm and fuzzy memories had been replaced with ten-hour days working the hot LA real estate market. She had neither the inclination nor the time for fun. Alex was stressed.

Alex splurged, booked a first class seat for her long flight home, hoping the added comfort would ease the dread of returning home to an empty house. Blocking her way to her window seat was a dark haired man, bent forward, adjusting his laptop. She cleared her voice, smiled, and motioned toward the window seat.

"Sorry," said the man. "I was checking my e-mails."

The man stood, smiling down at Alex from his six-foot-three height, letting his eyes slowly travel over her. His gaze said it all; he liked what he saw. Before she took her window seat, she took off her blue blazer, folded it, and placed it with her luggage. As she stretched to secure her belongings in the overhead bin, the dark hair stranger drank in her alluring curves. The jeans were form fitting, revealing trim legs and hips, while her high-heeled sandals accentuated her pouting ass.

"Do you need some help?" the dark haired stranger asked, smiling as he assessed her physical assets.

"Thanks, but I've got it." Alex stepped further back into the aisle, brushed off her hands, and said, "I needed the stretch. It's been a trying three days."

The tall stranger pointed to the window seat and said, "You tell me your tale of woe, and I'll tell you mine."

"It's a deal." As she scooted into her seat, Alex could sense the eyes of the well-built stranger devouring every inch of her taut body. She initially caught him staring at her ass as she put away her carry on, then gazing at her white blouse as she removed her blazer. She was used to it. If her legs and ass didn't get a man's attention, her bust line never failed to impress the opposite sex. Her cardio workouts at the gym kept her fit, creating flat abs, toned legs, and a full, but firm ass. Her narrow waist accentuated the fullness of her breasts. Her physical beauty was not lost on the tall stranger who savored her graceful moves as she took her seat beside him. Her full breasts swayed ever so slightly as she moved about. For a thirty-five year old professional woman, she was a ten on anybodies sexual scale.

Alex, short for Alexandria, was hot. Unfortunately, no one had savored her sexual gifts for more than a year. In fact, she hadn't been laid for a year and a half. During the final months, before her husband's death, she had merely held him, massaging his shoulders, and only twice had she stroked his manhood to a happy ending.

"My name's Vincent. Friends call me Vinny."

"Alexandria. My friends call me Alex."

"Well, since we are on a first name basis, let's hear your tale of woe."

"Perhaps, but I'd rather get acquainted first."

Alex smiled, and shook Vinny's hand. Her delicate hand disappeared into his firm handshake. His hands were enormous. For a brief moment, she flashed on her best friend's comment, heard first as a college freshman. The size of a man's hands, her girlfriend had confided, is a reliable guide to the size of his manhood. She blushed at the long forgotten memory, surprised by the sexual recollection. She immediately suppressed the thought, and studied Vinny's face. He wore a trimmed beard that covered his upper lip and chin; a scar ran down the right side of his face, starting just below his right ear, eventually disappearing into dark facial hair. His brown eyes were so dark that the irises were only a shade lighter than his pupils. When he smiled, his eyes seemed to lighten a shade of brown, followed by a brilliant white smile that quickly turned devilish. The lines on his face said he was about forty-five; his athletic body and strong barring were of a much younger man. His close physical presence stirred dormant sexual feelings within the young widow. Her late husband was a kind and loving man, slight of build, delicate hands, and a tender touch. Vinny, however, exuded an animalistic quality, giving Alex the impression that he took whatever he wanted. His demeanor was calm, but strong. He was definitely self-assured.

"Well, Alex, what brought you to Boston?"

"Visiting my in laws."

"Without your husband?"

Alex hesitated, cleared her throat, and quietly said, "My husband passed last year. In fact, today marks the first anniversary of his death."

"Oh, I'm so sorry." Vinny took her hand and said, "It is so difficult losing a love one. I know the feeling."

"How so?" Alex looked Vinny in the eye, searching for any hint of compassion.

"My brother was shot dead in a Boston pizzeria five years ago."

"Oh, dear. Why?" Alex momentarily averted his gaze.

"It was a gangland assassination."

"What?"

"It's a long story."

Alex begged him to continue. "Please, tell me what happened."

For the next five hours, the two strangers got acquainted. Vinny informed her that he worked for an import firm dealing with Italian wines. She later found out, after returning home and searching the Internet, that he was a member of the Bambino family, the infamous East Coast mob dealing in anything illegal. She told him of her ten-hour days peddling real estate. He read between the lines, sensed she was a sexually starved woman in need of male attention.

After landing at LAX, picking up their luggage, and heading for the waiting taxis, Vinny asked Alex if she needed a lift. She informed him she had parked in an external lot and would take the shuttle bus. She offered him a lift, but he declined. He informed her that family was meeting him. He paused, and then handed her a business card.

"Alex, I enjoyed our time together. If you need some company, call me. I have a feeling we're a good match."

Alex tilted her head and read the card: "Vincent Bambino, I can make it happen. Italian imports." She looked up and asked, "We're a good match?"

"Call me, and I'll show you."

Vincent dashed off to a waiting black Lincoln, leaving Alex puzzled. She shrugged, pocketed the business card, and caught a shuttle to parking lot D.

One week later, Alex sat in her Jacuzzi, soaking away the stress of another day working the L.A. real estate market. She was lonely, sad, and depressed. She smiled as she thought about Vinny. "Why not," she blurted as she reached for a towel and dried herself. She admired her body in the bathroom's floor length mirror. She smiled, knowing that her body would turn on any man. Her full breast stood out against the flat abs she so diligently trained. Three hundred crunches, rain or shine, was her mantra. Her legs were silky smooth; firm muscular thighs gave way to curvy calves. Her five foot-six mirrored image was reassuring. The lack of sex, however, was not. It had been so long since she had felt the hard pounding intimacy of a man. Tom was a sensitive, caring man, but not known for his passion. He treated her as a delicate flower to be cultivated—an orchid she was not. She loved Tom, but more as a brother or best friend.

Men like Vinny had often hit on her, but she dutifully rebuffed them. Her religiously imposed virtues had ruled her since early childhood. She had sex only with two other men before marriage; an awkward affair with a boy in college, and a rare drunken encounter with a biker. She had mistakenly accepted a dare from a girlfriend to attend a wild party in the San Fernando Valley six months before her marriage to Tom. The booze, dope, and insistent moves of a burly biker initiated her to wild, animalistic sex. He took her to his apartment where he seduced her with dope and booze. His imposing physical strength and strong will ravaged her body for hours. The intense encounter initiated her to multiple orgasms, and left her bruised, sore, but longing for more. It was an evening she would never forget. She knew she would not give into her carnal desire, but she occasionally fantasized about the hot sex when Tom made love to her. The vivid, sexually charged fantasy was her only indiscretion during her ten years of faithful marriage. Alex was a loyal and committed wife. But now she was alone, cut off from intimacy and passion.

She toweled herself, shaved her pussy, why not, she was feeling wicked, then put on a teddy, and curled up in bed. She lit a bedside candle and fantasized about Vinny, the size of his hands, his devilish smile, and his dark, enigmatic eyes. Her hands found her sweet spot while images of Vinny flooded her mind. Before the candle had burned out, her right hand had brought on an earth shaking orgasm. She felt pangs of guilt for giving in to her dark side. She fell asleep, but not before struggling with her inner demons. From some remote part of her mind she heard an insistent chant: "Call him, call him."

Alex sat staring at her cell phone. It was noon; she was waiting to show a client a house in Encino, two blocks south of Ventura Blvd. She dialed Vinny and got his voice mail. She hesitated, then calmly identified herself. "Vinny," she said. "It's Alex. I thought about our flight from Boston. It was fun. You left me with a question that's haunted me all week. You said, 'we're a good match.' I think I need clarification. Call me if you are interested." She said good-bye, leaving her number before signing off.

Later that evening, she arrived home, exhausted from the demands of her job. She was anxiously juggling greedy sellers and demanding buyers. The first two messages were from escrow officers, the third from and an irate seller. The fourth made her heart skip. "It's me, Vinny. Call me when you get in. I need to see you." Alex collapsed into the sofa, heart pounding. A tingling sensation radiated from her belly, causing her to shudder. Moisture pooled in her vagina, sending a faint trickle of sexual fluid down her silky smooth thighs. She glanced at her wedding ring. She was conflicted. She felt the guilt of betrayal, followed by an overwhelming desire to give in to her passion.

Alex took a long slow bath, savored a glass of wine, and then dialed Vinny. She took a deep breath, clenched her fists, hoping this would steady her trembling hands.

"Vinny here."

"Vinny, it's Alex."

"Alex, so glad to hear from you. Listen, I'm about to enter an important meeting. I've got tickets to a dance performance at the Ford Theater in Hollywood. How about dinner and the theater tomorrow night?"

"Wow, you are fast on your feet."

"I know what I like. Are you game?"

Alex hesitated for a moment, then asked, "What time?"

"I'll pick you up a 5:30. We'll dine, then head for the theater."

"Good. I'll see you tomorrow around 5:30." Before ending the call, she gave Vinny the address. She had another glass of wine, lit a candle, and fantasized about tomorrow night. She slowly fondled herself, gently at first, then forcefully as she thought about Vinny's large hands. It was the sound of his commanding voice that brought her off the first time. But it was the vision of his erect manhood that sent her over the top the second time. Vinny reminded her of the burly biker. They were strong, self-assured men who took whatever they wanted. Alex slept like a baby for the first time in a year.

Alex was as nervous as a teenage girl readying herself for her first prom. Her black skirt was knee length, but her pale blue spaghetti strapped blouse showed plenty of cleavage. A light gray jacket, however, provided a modicum of modesty. Large oval earrings bobbled about as she stroked her dark, shoulder length hair. Her olive complexion complemented her sparkling green eyes, the visible hints of her rich ancestry. Her father was Irish and her mother Mexican. She didn't have the temper of an Irishman, but she unknowingly possessed, down deep, the passion of a sensual Latina. Her religious upbringing and strict parents had created a protective barrier, holding in check her deep-seated passions. Alex's proper marriage to a conservative husband had reinforced this life long sexual repression.

Vinny proved to be quite the gentlemen. A dozen roses launched the date, followed by a delightful dinner sprinkled with lively conversation, fantastic theater, and a gentlemen's short kiss at the end of the evening. He refused a nightcap, but said he'd call. It was two a.m. when her head hit the pillow. Alex was too excited to fall off to sleep. An ache surfaced from the depths of her soul. It was a deep ache, one associated with the loss of Tom, her beloved husband. The second ache, one more physical and acute, gnawed at her loins. She slowly stroked herself, longing for real relief.

The next two days were a whirlwind of surprises. First, a dozen roses delivered to the office, two voice mails, and dinner and drinks at Universal City Walk. Alex and Vinny drank and sang along with the piano players at Howl at the Moon before ending the evening at Alex's hillside home in the Hollywood Hills. On the deck, overlooking the city, Vinny produced a reefer. The two inhaled deeply as they gazed at the full moon. Alex hadn't smoked since the affair with the biker. After three puffs, she pulled Vinny by the arm and led him to the living room where she lit a fire. They shared another joint, and a glass of wine while they read each other's palms. The readings ranged from longevity expectations to food preferences. Vinny said that a divergent line leading from the lifeline indicated a person's true sexual nature. They both had prominent lines.

"Vinny," Alex sighed, "You have such big hands."

"All the better to hold you with." Vinny moved his heavily muscled arm around Alex's shoulder and pulled her close. He gazed into her eyes, moved closer, and lightly kissed her lips. The marijuana, wine, and sexual tension finally exploded into a fiery dance of passionate fondling, deep French kissing, and the shedding of clothing. Vinny's large hands worked their magic, inching their way down her neck, followed closely by sensual kisses. Everything moved in slow motion, adding to the sexual tension. His every touch served only to heighten her mounting desire. The rugged mobster nuzzled and kissed his way around her full breasts, lingering momentarily in her deep cleavage, before sliding down the flimsy spaghetti straps of her blouse. His large hands reached around Alex's heaving chest and unhooked her bra. A rush of cool air played across her nipples, causing her to shudder. His hands were huge, but not large enough to engulf Alex's magnificent breasts.

Her skin was blemish free, soft and supple, a bold contrast to Vinny's rough hands and bristly beard. Her nipples pressed against his caressing hands, her hot breath and soft moans filled his ears. She was losing control. Something deep inside her urged her on, invisibly moving her small hands toward his groin. Her left hand trembled as she traced the massive length of his manhood through the softness of his dress slacks. She moaned softly as her small hand traveled down his upper thigh, marveling at the size of his hidden cock. As she stroked his tented pants, her tongue probed his mouth, savoring his full lips and thick tongue. Alex had never kissed a man with a trimmed beard, but the roughness of his facial hair served to heighten her mounting passion. Vinny pushed up her skirt, slid his hands under her full, but firm ass, and massaged the silkiness of her derriere. His mouth and tongue traced a trail from her lips, down her neck, and found the object of his desire. He hungrily nibbled her distended nipples, sucking and gently biting the sensitive buds. Her breasts, swollen with lust, heaved, as he swirled his tongue around her enlarged nipples. She had never had an orgasm from a man sucking her tits. She was on edge, close to falling over the precipice, even before he had removed her thong.

Vinny shifted his weight, firmly pushing Alex back on the sofa. He stripped her naked in a slow, but decisive move, leaving the sexually repressed widow weak with desire. He instructed her to leave on her three-inch pumps. Later, he would ravish her from the back. The pumps would help elevate her ass to the perfect angle for a rear assault. He loved watching a woman's quivering ass as he drove his blood engorged manhood into the depths of her slick cunt. But for now the vision of a submissive woman in heat mesmerized him. Her black skirt was bunched up around her hips, revealing her newly shaved pussy, glistening with vaginal fluids. Her silky thighs were slightly spread, slack, offering no resistance to his insistent moves.

Vinny stood, slowly removed his shoes, unhooked his belt, and drop his trousers. He quickly shed his underwear, unleashing his massive manhood. His dark eyes challenged her to resist his advances. Alex's mouth dropped open, eyes widened, as she gazed at his growing member. It was huge, at least ten inches, with a thick shaft covered by numerous encouraged blood vessels. He moved closer, sank down into the sofa, and pulled Alex close to his side. He planted a wet, lingering kiss on the trembling widow. She reached over and gently stroked his massive tool. Her small hand failed to encircle the throbbing, heavily veined, mass of flesh.

"Vinny, please be gentle. It's been so long."

"I'll go slow. But when you're ready, I'm going to give you the fuck of your life."

"Oh my God," Alex moaned. "Oh my God." She hypnotically chanted the phrase as Vinny kissed his way down her body, starting with her lips, and ending with a lingering tonguing of her clit. Alex nearly passed out, saved only by the distant howling of a woman in heat. It wasn't just any woman, it was her; it was her high-pitched screams echoing off the living room walls. She suddenly exploded with her first orgasm.

Vinny shifted his position and placed the tip of his enormous cock at the entrance to her vagina, lingering, pushing, and gently tapping her sexual bud. Her clit had swollen to twice its normal size, encouraged with the lust of her deprived body. Vaginal juice ran down her trembling thighs as he entered, feeding her only the first couple of inches of his thick cock. Alex was mesmerized, seduced into a world of forbidden passion, staring into the dark eyes of this alpha male, both fearing and longing for him to unleash his passion on her deprived body. He was in control; she could not resist. Her dark side had taken over. She had been a faithful, loving wife. She had never strayed. But now she was living out her fantasy, free of guilt.

Inch by inch he slowly introduced her to his massive cock, withdrawing ever so slightly, then pushing ahead. After five minutes of this seductive dance, her body gave way, opening wide enough to accommodate his massive girth. He held still, kissing her lips, sucking on her tongue, and then slowly licking his way down to her full breasts, gently nibbling on her lust engorged nipples. He withdrew, then pushed deeper, finally resting the head of his massive cock at her cervix. He hovered above Alex, staring into her eyes, rocking gently, before rearing back on his haunches and plunging forward with all his weight. Alex screamed, clawed his muscular back, and shifted her hips forward as she threw her well-toned legs around his back, locking him in place, insuring that he would finish what he started.