We still miss her. It has been almost six years since my wife, my second wife, but the love of my life, had suddenly and quite unexpectedly passed away. She loved to walk outside, and had been hit by a texting driver. She left behind a terrible aching in my heart, a treasure trove of years of wonderful memories, and her nineteen-year-old daughter Sara from her previous marriage that left my wife as a widow. Sara's heart ached just as much as mine did.
We found ourselves trying to establish a new sense of normalcy in the home that we had all shared. It was too awkward at times, and very quiet all the time without my wife's voice and activities in the home. Through the early months, Sara and I often had to console each other. Being the adult, I found myself having to help her with her grief constantly, whereas there was no one that I could really turn to for help with mine. But, again, being the adult, I could handle my grief better than Sara could hers.
Since my wife and I bought the home together under a prenup, she willed her half to Sara, so Sara and I felt comfortable with keeping the house as our home, at least until she was ready to strike off on her own.
About 5 ½ months after my wife's passing, it was at the end of one weekend during which Sara and I had spent countless hours working in the gardens around the home and planting the annuals that her mother loved so much, that our lives took a strange turn. Late Saturday night found us cleaned up and relaxing on the couch, watching a made-for-TV movie on a family channel. We had just turned it on for something to do and relax to, not knowing what the movie was about. Unfortunately, it was about a young girl who had lost her mother, and was trying to find ways of coping with it.
Eventually, Sara, who was sitting a couple of feet away from me, lowered her face into her hands and began a soft sobbing. I asked her what was wrong, not that I didn't already know. She told me that planting her mom's flowers and that this movie were too much. She missed her mom.
I held out my arm to beckon her over to me. She scooted across the cushion and leaned into me. I place my right arm around her shoulders, and reached across with my left hand to caress her hair. I kissed the top of her head, offering consoling words. Her sobbing seemed to only intensify.
After about fifteen minutes of caressing, the sobbing ceased, she let out a deep sigh, and relaxed more into me, lowering herself across my lap, resting her head on the sofa throw pillow on the other side of me. Calmed now, she continued watching the movie while lying on her side across me. I began to massage and rub her neck and shoulders. She let out another deep sigh.
The positioning was a little awkward for me to have access to her left shoulder, so I suggested that she roll forward onto her stomach. She adjusted herself, bringing her arms and hands across my body and around the throw pillow, and presenting her entire back for my massage.
I continued my ministrations, massaging her soft, petite neck, shoulders, and shoulder blades through her thin tee-shirt.
As I rubbed and kneaded, a small gap appeared between the bottom of her shirt and her pajama bottoms, exposing the small of her back. I don't know what possessed me, but an urge to touch her back came over me. With one hand, I reached over and began lightly caressing her back with my fingertips, brushing them back and forth between the sides of her waist. I was anxious that she would object, but all she emitted was another deep sigh. I took that as her acceptance, but I wanted to be sure, so I asked how she was feeling. She replied that she was fine and that it was feeling real good.
Emboldened by this, I began widening the brushes with my fingers, causing my thumb to slide up her back an inch or two under her shirt. I didn't sense any alarm or resistance on her part, and I was sensing something going on in my libido, something that I hadn't experienced in the past five and a half months.
My confidence in her comfort with this grew, so I tested the waters a little, curious as to how far I could go. I began running my entire hand farther up under her shirt, caressing her soft skin. My fingertips were reaching about half way up her back at this time. Just as I wondered what she thought about it, she whispered that it felt good. Again, she sighed, signaling to me that she was relaxed about this.
After around five minutes of gradually creeping farther up her back under her shirt, my fingers brushed against the back strap of her bra. I held my line there, just caressing the entire lower portion of her back, but with her tee-shirt practically pulled up to expose that portion of her back. Now I could use my other hand, too, so I reached over and began caressing and massaging with both hands. As I did this, my fingers found their way down to the softness of the sides of her back.
I was overcome with the desire to take a quantum leap, beginning to slip my fingers up under her bra strap. There was no doubt that this was crossing a line, but I was not thinking exactly sanely, having gone without the touch of a woman for so long. And touching this pretty, young woman was stirring feelings in me that I had kept pent up for so long.
Let me describe Sara. As I said, she is pretty. Not beautiful, but with some nice features that are on the attractive side....long, brown hair, captivating eyes, and a good sense of humor. Standing at 5'3", and at 115 pounds, she has a curvy body that many older women would die for. Having spent many days at the club swimming pool, watching her in her bikini, I can understand why the older women would.
Sara has never been with a boy to my knowledge. That has never been one of her priorities in life. She isn't as academic as most people, and is somewhat lacking in self-confidence. Lacking in self-esteem, she hasn't followed through on the couple of times some young man showed some form of interest in her. She also doesn't pursue make-up and fine clothing with the same fervor as other young women. But she doesn't really need much make-up because of her naturally-pretty features, and, unfortunately, the clothes that she usually wears only tend to hide the finer features of her figure. Along those lines, she has never met a young man who accepted her for who she is. Now she was lying across my lap, and my hands were wandering up that soft, smooth back that I have only been able to admire from a distance.
I worked my hands up under her straps and over her shoulder blades, making sure that I kneaded them lightly, and slowly broadening my strokes so that my fingertips reached up to her shoulders. This tended to tug at her bra strap, however. Taking another leap, I reached for the clasp on the back of her bra, unhooked it, and let it fall to her back. With my heart beating in my chest, I asked her if that was okay. She nodded her head, and hummed, "Mmm-hmm." So far, so good.
I positioned my hands back at the small of her back, and then started lightly caressing and massaging in circles up her back with the tips of my fingers. When I got to the unfastened straps, my fingers pushed them down over the sides of her back. I now had a view and access to her entire back. My hands roamed freely, occasionally dipping down the sides of her back.
I sensed that my cock was beginning to stiffen, but I couldn't be sure because it was so packed down by the weight of her torso across my lap. But it felt as if it were twitching every so often. I gathered that, if I couldn't tell, then she likely couldn't tell, either, what affect this was having on me. Regardless of what state my cock was in, my mouth was beginning to go dry.
After several minutes of tending to her shoulders and upper back, I moved my hands down her spine, stopping at the tops of her pajama bottoms. Having scooted across my lap, her pajama bottoms ended up lower on her hips to the point where the band rested just above her ass cheeks. My fingers caressed her skin at the band, working around the sides of her hips and back. I was very hesitant to venture any farther down than that, but my horniness got the better of me. I gently pushed my finger tips under the waistband, finding that her panty waistband was right there, too, so that I was really under the waistband of her panties, then venturing another inch or two below. "Does that feel okay?" I asked. "Uh-huh," she answered. Another green light.
I began doing the same thing to her pajama bottoms and panties that I did with the bra strap, slipping my hands under so as to lift them slightly from her body. As I did this, I could see a little bit of her cheeks down in her bottoms. With my hands tucked under her pajamas and panties, I circled my fingers across the upper portion of her cheeks, again caressing them in a tickling fashion. "Good? I asked her. "Good," she replied. At this point, I didn't know where this was going, but whatever the destination, I was enjoying the ride.
"Farther down?" I asked. She nodded her head yes. And so I went.
I couldn't believe what was happening. My mind was reeling. I now had my hands on each ass cheek, cupping and caressing them. While doing this, I used my thumbs to hook over her waistbands to pull the clothing a little farther down her waist, exposing half of her ass. I then worked my flattened hands down the sides of her ass to her hips, making sure that I barely touched a slight amount of the front of her hips.
I then began working on her cheeks again, working at pushing her bottoms even farther down. I slowly got them nearly down to the bottom of her ass. I lightly stroked her checks at the bottom, working up and down her cheeks. On a couple passes, I pushed farther down her cheeks onto the backs of her legs. By doing this, I was sure that I could see some of her pussy, but I wasn't entirely sure because of the angle and the light.