I'm Tom Davis, kid brother of Laura Hughes. I was a 30-year old high school social studies teacher and girls' basketball coach; after five years of coaching, thanks to two athletic sisters on the team, we won the district championship. Often, I saw the superintendent of the schools, Harry Bradley, and his wife, Rita, among the spectators at home games. I saw Rita at a reception in the team's honor. She was about 5-ft 6-in, 125 lb, big boobs, green eyes, and shoulder-length, light brown hair; she had on a white turtle neck blouse, beige skirt, black stockings, and a navy blue blazer. Often, after she congratulated me and my team, she visited with my wife, Ali, and our one-year old son, Tim. I thought she looked very elegant and sexy. Also, she always smelled of a light floral perfume. I saw her a few more times, usually at various school functions.
Ali was a petite, 5-ft, 2-in, 115 lb, 34B boobs, blonde with a round face, light blue eyes, and a bubbly personality. She attended most of the girls' basketball games. She listened to the girls and helped them with their problems. She was working hard to overcome the belief that her pussy and oral sex were dirty. Still, we had a great sex life, with lot of fucking outdoors.
Ali told me, "Rita also attended my state college and was a member of the same sorority. She is 16 years older than me but has the same birthday in the summer; she is also a distant cousin of my mom. She invited me to play tennis with her and join the club."
Ali and I were invited to a Christmas party at the home of Harry and Rita. Rita had on a long red, low-neck, dress that showed her cleavage prominently. Her cousin, Ellie, a widow, was the only unattached person at the party. There were three other couples, but they all left soon after dinner. Over coffee, while Harry and I talked, Ali, Ellie, and Rita seemed to be having a good conversation and laughed a lot in the living room. I agreed to help Harry remove an old deck and build a new one. Harry invited me to play golf with him; in fact, Harry, who was heavy-set, needed to exercise and loose about 70 lbs.
After using the toilet, as I came down the steps, I saw Rita at a large window looking at the falling snow.
She smiled at me and said, "It's beautiful outside."
I walked to where she was standing, stood next to her, and said, "You have a nice home, especially the backyard."
"It's quite private. Harry said he may consider building an in-ground pool."
Later, still standing next to Rita, I noticed her large boobs and that they nearly spilled out of her low-cut dress. Rita must have realized I was admiring her chest and blushed intensely. After Ali joined us, Rita showed a few photos of her daughter, Claire, who was coming on Christmas Eve with her fiancé; Claire was on the basketball team the first year I became the coach.
Sadly, after Tim's second birthday, Ali discovered a lump in her heft breast that was malignant. After surgery and chemotherapy, she seemed to have been cured, but the cancer returned a few months later. I took a leave of absence from my coaching job to take care of Ali. Several friends of Ali, especially Rita, helped with taking care of Tim and driving Ali to the cancer center. After a courageous struggle and considerable suffering, Ali passed away. It was a sad end to the life of a beautiful woman to whom I was married almost seven years. I received many cards of sympathy, including one from Rita, who urged me to be positive, take care of Tim, and live my life as best as I could.
Taking care of Tim became my highest priority. At the suggestion of my parents and in-laws, I found a teaching/coaching job in a town only 20 miles, instead of 60 miles, from them. I continued to maintain contacts with Harry and Rita; she baby sat for Tim when I was in town. Tim became fond of Rita and called her "Ta." Harry played golf with me when he had the time and, invariably, afterwards, Tim and I had dinner at his home. Harry and I worked on removing the old deck at the back of his home. But, he was too busy to work on the new deck and I ended up working alone. When Harry was not home, Rita talked to me either while I worked on the deck or afterwards. I managed to complete the deck and promised Rita that I would stain it at a later date. As I recovered from the loss of Ali, I began to notice Rita's sexy figure.
Rita noticed me stealing glances at her and explained, "Harry is the love of my life. He has been working hard on the budget; he is worried about saving jobs, especially of the teachers. He is under lot of stress. He is not eating healthy meals."
I said, "I'll get him to play golf; that should lower his stress. Is he doing any exercises other than playing golf?"
"No," and then blurted out, "Our love life has disappeared. He does not like oral sex either."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
I volunteered to grill salmon one evening, but when I arrived at Harry's home, he had not left his office yet. Rita, who was dressed in pink shorts and a light blue halter top, and I talked on the patio while drinking wine. I told her she was a beautiful woman. In turn, Rita flirted with me by rubbing my back and patting my butt couple of times.
Rita told me, "I was an only child of a strict couple in Maine, a high school cheerleader, a tennis player at a small college, and an office manager in a school board office. My older, second, cousin, Ellie, helped me through adolescence and through my college years. She understood that I didn't want to be controlled by my old-fashioned father. When Harry, a science teacher, asked me to marry him after dating about six months, I accepted his proposal. He was smart, worked hard, ambitious, and moved up the school administrators' ladder. I had a good life with lot of women friends, and time spent playing tennis and bridge. Sometimes I wonder what my life would have been had I married a not-so-ambitious amateur actor who was a wonderful lover.
"Ellie became my mentor. She married an older man, who died couple of years ago and left her well provided. She has been living with Brett, a man about 15 years younger than her. Ellie and I are close enough for her talk openly about her love life."
I realized Rita and I were lonely, but that nothing intimate would happen. That night, I masturbated imagining I was playing with Rita's big boobs and later licking her juicy pussy.
After playing golf on a Saturday, as I drove Harry to his home, he began to complain about chest and shoulder pain, and I took him straight to the hospital's emergency room. The medical staff began to attend on him right away and wheeled him inside the emergency room. I called Rita to inform her what had happened and asked her to come to the hospital. Soon after Rita came to the hospital with Tim, an emergency room physician informed us that Harry had passed away from a massive heart attack.
I took Rita home; I stayed with her as she wept and talked about her life with Harry. I called Claire; I told her about her dad and to come home. I went home about midnight, carrying Tim, who was asleep. For another week, I spent time helping Rita. Soon, got busy executing Harry's estate and planning Claire's wedding.
I kept in touch with Rita through regular text and email messages. She appreciated the funny pictures and cartoons I sent her. A few months later, she started to send me limericks that showed her bawdy sense of humor.
One day, she complained in a message, "My boobs are saggy."
"They are saggy only if the nipples are at your crotch. I recall your bra-covered boobs look magnificent. Can I see a photo of them bra-less?"
A few days later, much to my delight and surprise, she sent me a photo of her magnificent boobs, attached to the message, "For your eyes only."
"They are magnificent. I love them. I wish I could kiss them."
She replied with only a smiley face emoticon.
About a year after Harry died, Rita sent me a message, "I am working as an office manager; also taking yoga classes and resumed playing tennis."
A few days later I had to attend a conference for teachers at my old school and hoping to see her after my conference ended, I wrote to her that I would like to see her. She suggested I meet her at the local country club after she finished playing tennis. We met at the club bar.
I said, "You look gorgeous. You must be very popular."
Rita confided to me, "Thanks. I am still reluctant to be introduced to single men. Still, an acquaintance invited me and a 78-year old widower to lunch on a Sunday who was looking for someone to take care of him, a responsibility I am not ready to undertake. Also, I did not want to tie myself up with a much older man. I will not marry for money. Harry left me well provided."
To tease her, I said, "So you are a rich widow."
