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.
