Basque 1

Thank you for reading my story, I hope that you enjoy it. Love Mica xx, Yorkshire England.

Please note that I am a British female, and I write in British English and vernacular, so for me a fanny is the correct term for female genitalia, a pussy is a pet cat, and the ass is a bum or arse.

I apologise for any typo errors in my story - I edit these myself, and I'm not perfect...

I was just in my bedroom putting away my clothes and my old Basque fell off the wardrobe shelf. Gosh, it had been a fair few years since I had last worn that. Since Jack passed I hadn't really had the opportunity, or to be honest, the inclination. I really hadn't wanted to date anyone, Jack had been my life, and now it was Tim, our son.

Tim had now passed eighteen and was working as an apprentice at an electronics company in town, it wasn't a great wage, but he was living at home so his outgoings weren't that high. I had told him to save as much money as he could, he would need it for a mortgage or a deposit on a rented place, and I didn't have any spare that I could give him.

I held the basque in my hand and my memories of when I last wore it flooded back, almost overwhelming me. Jack and I were going for a meal to an upmarket Indian Restaurant on the outskirts of Leeds, although I thought it closer to Bradford, but they described themselves as Leeds, who was I to argue.

It was a date night, a night where we arranged a baby sitter, even though Tim was fourteen, we still had a sitter, just to ensure he was safe, he would stay in his room on his PlayStation and the sitter would watch tv and eat chocolates and we would go out by taxi and eat drink and get merry, come home and wave the sitter goodbye and retire to our room.

And as it was date night, I wanted to ensure that I had the most sensual of underwear, I wanted Jack to be unable to resist me when we got back. My lingerie of choice was my Amour basque in red and black silk, some petite matching knickers and my What Katy Did 10 denier black stockings.

Over the top was my black knee length silk dress, Chinese made, but handmade and not mass produced, it had the high Chinese neck, and it really accentuated my shape, I loved it and so did Jack. Heels were my Christiane Louboutin six inch heels, the ones with the red soles. Hell to walk in but they really made me feel so darn sexy.

We had laughed all the way through our meal, innuendos, fake rebuttals, fawning, touching, all the things couples do on a date, and then we had called a taxi, Jack's hands on my legs, pressing up under my dress on the journey home, and then after the sitter had gone and Tim's bedroom door was firmly shut we retired to our bedroom.

I undid Jack's shirt, easing it off his shoulders, my hands playing with the rounds of his chest and abdomen. I had unbuttoned his trousers, sliding them down his legs, leaving him in his black silk boxer shorts that failed in any way to disguise his arousal. He pulled me up and turned me around and undid the back of my dress, pushing it forward off my shoulders and then turning me round.

"My God Meesh," he said as my full lingerie was revealed, he hadn't seen what I was wearing before we went out, "you really are stunning, but your lingerie takes you up a notch."

"Oh, really, out of ten?" Well, we all like to fish for compliments.

"Twenty, maybe twenty-one." He leant against me and kissed me, his hand cupping my right boob, his dick pressing against my stomach.

I knelt and pulled his boxer shorts down, his dick springing free as the elastic waist went passed it. I helped them over his ankles, and he was stood before, stark naked and very aroused. I blew gently on his dick and then cupped his balls. I loved that he shaved his dick and balls, straggly pubic dental floss was never my favourite.

Opening my mouth, I took his dick onto my tongue and then slowly pulled his foreskin back, freeing his glans, my tongue wrapping around it before licking his rim, Jack gasping as the intense pleasures played in his body. He looked down, his eyes fixated on my cleavage, and he gasped as my tongue did its work.

He pulled me to my feet and turned me around, undoing the myriad of metal catches down the back of my basque, and then turned me and sat me on the bed whilst he undid the suspenders, leaving my stockings free but in place. He pulled my basque forwards and exposed my breasts, kissing each nipple before pushing me onto my back.

He hadn't known that I had gone out without knickers, and I know, that if he had, the journey home in the taxi would have been a little more personal. He widened my legs and placed a kiss on my crease, dead centre and then his tongue pressed in and dipped in at my urethra before sliding upwards to my clitoris.

Staring at the ceiling I closed my eyes and gasped as he made contact, my pleasures exploded through me, running like the waters over Victoria falls, flowing through my body from my toes to my ears, my nipples hardening and my buttocks clenching. He dabbed, he licked, he pressed, he stimulated slowly, never hurriedly, sensual, not erotic.

His fingers found their way to my entrance, circling gently, dipping in further and further, finding my depth, passing through my opening, fingernails brushing my little internal scar, rubbing over my ripples, and then withdrawing, pulling back to my entrance and pausing before plunging in, my breath drawing sharply in, my back arching.

He released me and slid up and lay above me, his dick pressing at my crease. I leant down and took his dick in my hand, gently wanking it a few strokes before lining him up with my entrance. Jack flexed his hips and his dick slowly, oh do slowly pressed forward, my petals parting, his hard meat pushing inside my body.

I gasped with the pleasure of my husband entering my body, filling my space, pressing my crease open, pressing my clitoris with his pubis, his hand caressing my face, his mouth against mine, our lips touching, his dick moving, me gasping again and again with every thrust.

"I love you" he whispered into my mouth as his dick moved within me, my body clamping onto his dick as if refusing to allow it to leave, his strength overriding, his dick getting faster and faster as it filled my fanny and then emptied it, the feelings of filled and voided blurring, my gasps getting louder, the crack of the slap of his body on mine echoing around our bedroom.

My gasps were almost rolling into one, I was gulping in air but not exhaling, I felt as if my chest would explode. My pressures were peaking, my electrics fizzed, banged and popped and my pleasures were awash throughout my body.

Jacky grunted and pressed in hard and stopped moving, as I felt his ejaculations inside me, cooling, my orgasm erupted, exploding though my body, my lungs emptied in a scream and my fingers attempted to tear his shoulders from his body.

That was four years ago. The last time I was truly happy. The next day there was a knock on my door, a policeman and a policewoman stood there asking if they could come in. Jack was dead, killed by a drunk driver as Jack stood waiting to cross the road, the drunk driver had mounted the pavement and then crashed into a shop.

My life almost ended that day, and from then I had existed only for Tim, I had no desire to date, no need to see men, I had put away my date clothes and shoes, I had no further need for them, and then, today, the memory came flooding back when the basque fell out of my wardrobe. I didn't cry, I wasn't a mess of tears, I was just alone.

I put the basque back and decided I would take a shower, the house was empty, and I didn't need to prepare tea yet, Tim would be another few hours. I took my top off and then undid my bra, it was nothing special, just a white Marks and Spencer functional piece of underwear. I looked at my boobs in the mirror, they had sagged a little, but, well, I was in my forties, gravity happens.

I undid my skirt and slipped it down, folding it and putting it on my chair. My knickers, they were just knickers from Primark, they didn't match my bra, they just covered my fanny, functional from a biological perspective. They didn't need to be and didn't pretend to be anything else. My pubic hair had grown back.

I used to shave, for Jack, but after he was lost, I just didn't really see the point, I didn't bother and now I had quite the growth. I mentally pulled myself up and decided that I would do it for me, that I mattered, I may not have Jack, and Tim would be living his own life, I still needed some esteem, and I would sort myself out. No time for widow's weeds anymore.

I dug around in the bathroom cupboard and found Jack's old trimmer. I sat on the loo and shaved off the majority of the hair, the shaver leaving a slight stubble. Further rummaging in the cupboard found Jacks razor and some unused blades. I lathered my groin and stood in the bath and shaved with the bath taps running but the plug not in the drain. I was surprised how good it felt to be shaving, my groin felt smooth, no nicks, no little bumps, and when I accidentally brushed my clitoris, my breath held and I gasped. I hadn't had that feeling in a very long time.

I put the razor and the shaver back in the cupboard and turned on the shower. I stood under the falling water for a moment and then stepped back and rubbed gel over my body, everywhere, every nook, every cranny, and then back under the water and rinsed, that feeling again, the long lost one, when I rubbed at my crotch, my finger sliding along my valley as I cleansed, I had the deep personal longing.

Out of the shower I gently rubbed myself dry and went into the bedroom, my skin tingling, and I felt the way I hadn't felt for many years. I lay on the bed and let my finger explore, something that I had not done since Jack, but it isn't something you forget, self-pleasure may be a personal secret, but it's never a guilty one.

I ignored my nubbin, that could wait, my fingers instead slipped into my valley and slid through my labia, in the wet and hot reaches of my crease. My labia curled and folded around my finger, sensations flowing through me, pleasures I had misplaced, but pleasures I had not forgotten.

My fingernail drew a circle around my urethra before moving a little further south and finding my entrance, circling, dipping, pressing, entering, through my opening into the heat of my depth, my fanny walls squeezing tightly on the intruder. I heard a noise and almost stopped, but then I realised the noise was me, my gasps, no one else's.

I slowly eased out of my fanny, walked through the folds of my valley and found the source of my pleasures, my nubbin, hard, yet hiding. I teased it away from its hood, my fingernail gently scraping around it, just lightly, ever so lightly, electrics shot from my groin, my back arched and I whispered "not yet Mica, not yet."

My body ignored me and the first intense pleasure that I had experienced in years flooded my body, my lungs emptied and I screamed my release, lying on the bed, my chest heaving as I recovered from the intense delights that had flowed. I had not imagined Jack or relived my past, this had been just pleasure, simple, current, now, not history.

Tim came home, a smile on his face, one I hadn't seen for a while.

"I got a bonus Mum, cash in hand bonus."

"That is brilliant, I am so pleased for you."

"I am taking us out Mum, we are going for a meal to the pub at the end of the street."

"Oh don't waste your money on me son," I said, besides, I wasn't sure I was ready for going out.

"It's not a waste Mum, you have looked after me since dad died, this is the least I can do, I want to take you out. Go get your nice dress on and we will go and we will have a nice steak and a bottle of wine."

"Oh Tim, I don't know."

He came across and put his arms around me and hugged me tight and I felt things I hadn't felt for many a while, things that I should perhaps not have felt with my son.

"Yes Mum, go, get your glad rags in, we're walking out to the pub."

I had already showered, I was clean, I just needed to dress. I opened the wardrobe and the basque fell out again. I picked it up and held it in my hands, perhaps it was trying to tell me something. I would wear it, only I would know, Tim wouldn't see it, but I would sit in that pub knowing full well that I had on my sexy underwear and I would feel damn good about it.

I did up the basque, I had to do it backwards and then swivel it round and drop my boobs into the cups and then tighten the lace at the front. I sat on the bed and rolled my stockings over my legs clipping the suspenders to hold them in place, peering in the mirror to make sure that the seams were straight, they were, as a di.

My Chinese dress, I hadn't even taken it out of the wardrobe in years, tonight it would see the light of day and it would cover my modesty, tonight I was not going to wear knickers, and Tim would never know how naughty his Mum was. And I could look around the pub and see other men and I would know that they would have no idea why I had no visible panty line on this Mandarin style dress.

I applied some eye liner and mascara, a little blusher and I sprayed my Estee Lauder on my décolletage, slipped on my Christian Louboutain and I finally looked in the mirror. Wow, I looked good, and I mean really good. I had been hiding for four years and now I was out of my cage, I was leaving my self-imposed exile and rejoining the world.

I went downstairs and then Tim joined me. He was wearing stone slacks, a crisp white shirt, and a linen jacket, he had even combed and done his hair. He looked very smart and my heart warmed for how good my son looked.

We walked arm in arm to the pub, Tim had phoned early and booked a table. We were greeted at the bar and then shown to a table in the restaurant area. It was an evening out, but it was not to be extravagant, I would make sure that he didn't waste his bonus. I ordered a chicken supreme, Tim ordered a steak, we ordered a sharing nachos as a starter, and a bottle of house red wine.

"You look absolutely fabulous Mum," Tim said as we sat supping our wine as we waited for the starter to arrive.

"Why thank you Tim," I said, a warm glow building, I had forgotten how nice it was to be paid a compliment. "And you are the most handsome of men."

He smiled. He talked about the people at work, his boss who was hard but fair, demanding concentration, but always willing to explain. I asked him about girls in the office after all a mother worries that her son gets the right sort of company. He said one of the girls was a Goth and pretty much kept herself to herself, the others were just girls. A couple of other guys, one had a load of tattoos, the other raced model cars.

They all sounded absolutely normal, a bit of an eclectic mix, but normal, and that was good to hear, it meant that Tim was getting exposed to normal people in a normal environment and that pleased me, he didn't seem to go out that much I had noticed. This might help. I knew that losing his Dad the way he had must have affected him, normality would be good.

The nachos arrived and we went straight at them, trying the various dips, I found the chilli dip a bit too sweet, and the guacamole a little bland. The Salsa was good though. But then we weren't in a high end restaurant, it was our local pub, so there were no real causes for complaint.

"Try this," Tim said dipping a nacho in the cheese sauce and proffering it to my mouth. I smiled and took the nacho, sucking it in off his finger, it was good, as was the moment, a close moment and I felt good. It felt more intimate than I expected and a shiver ran through me.

We walked arm in home back home, the meal had been good, good company and good to get out of the house, the wine had gone down rather well, and with neither of us used to alcohol it had a bit of an effect on us, I felt a little giggly, and Tim seemed a bit more touchy feely than usual.

In the house I locked the front door behind us and went to make coffee. Tim was sat in the lounge in the armchair, I passed him his coffee and sat opposite on the sofa. Time was looking at me and then he started messing with his phone. I leant back and sipped at my coffee, perfect.

My phone pinged, an incoming message. I picked my phone up and opened the message, oh my God. It was a photo of me, it showed my naked fanny and the words with it were 'you are the most beautiful woman in the world'. It was from Tim, he had photographed me from over the other side of the room.

"Oh, Gosh," I gasped as Tim stood and then he knelt before me. He pushed my dress up with his hands and as I looked down I saw the tops of my stockings, the suspender straps laying on top of my legs going up to my basque, and the crease of my fanny. I gulped and swallowed as I saw the top of Tim's head as he leant forward.

I shivered throughout my body as Tim blew onto my fanny and then he kissed my fanny, I was shocked by his move but my body reacted, pleasures flowed through me as his tongue pressed through my lips to my valley floor, dabbing at my urethra. My buttocks tensed and I watched my hands as they rested on Tim's head.

His tongue swirled between my lips and then slowly he licked upwards, my labia caressing his tongue, feeling its roughness and his heat. I closed my eyes, I could not watch, but I could feel, I could enjoy. A touch at my fanny startled me, a finger circling my entrance, probing my opening, pressing inside me, something inside me not of my control, I gasped.

My legs eased further apart, the exploratory finger eased out of me and was joined by a second, stretching my fanny walls further apart, probing me, seeking my depths, fingernails scraping my bumps and ripples. My head was tilted back, my eyes closed and my mouth open, I had forgotten the pleasures, after Jack they were not important, and now they were all encompassing.

"Tim," I managed, "let's go upstairs."

His fingers eased out of me, my fanny feeling abandoned and open, his tongue left my fanny, and my lips closed. He leant back and stood up, holding my hand he pulled me to my feet, my dress going back down my legs, once more hiding my sex from his eyes. I led the way, and we went up to my room. I stood in front of my bed and faced Tim.

I put my hands behind my back and undid my dress and let it fall down, landing at a puddle at my feet.

"Oh fuck," Tim gasped as he saw me in my lingerie, my basque and my stockings all I was wearing.

I put my hands behind my back to start undoing the catches on my basque, "No leave it," Tim said, "my God, you are stunning."

I went across to him and I undid the buttons on his shirt one by one and then pulled the tails out of his trousers. I pushed the shirt back over his shoulders and let it fall, running my hands over his chest, gently squeezing his small man nipples before going south and undoing his trousers.

I sank to my knees and pulled his trousers and underpants down, his cock springing free in front of my face, the first I had seen since Jack and it looked as if it would not disappoint. He got his cock DNA from his Dad by the looks. I kissed the end of his cock and it twitched in my mouth and I heard his gasps from above me. I cradled his balls, feeling the hidden orbs inside, squeezing them gently.

I pulled his foreskin back to reveal his glans, pulling my mouth back so that I could see. The end of his dick was a purple and pink shiny helmet and his rim well defined. I ran my tongue along his rim, a move that Jack loved so much, Tim inched and gasped as my tongue moved. I pressed forward, my mouth swallowing more and more of his dick, passing my tongue, and through my throat, blocking my breath.

Tim was arching his back, pushing his dick in as far as he could, my tongue pressed against his shaft, his glans far down my throat. I eased back and forth, shagging him with my throat, before easing him out and gasping for breath, I pushed again, his dick slipping easier down my throat, again blocking my breath.