Mark walked into his bedroom hoping to relax after a hectic day at the office. His sales manager had quit, two of the receptionists had quit, and he found out his partner was having an affair with his biggest client. He would have given anything at that moment for his beloved wife Misty to be alive still, she was so understanding to his needs, ready to listen attentively about his problems while giving him the most wonderful massages, and chuckling to himself, fucking his brains out after she had him nice and relaxed.
He laid back on the bed kicking his shoes off, thinking about his day and the past. How perfect their lives had been before Misty was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. He thought back to before it was just him and his little girl, well not so little anymore. Sam was eighteen now, and she would have killed him if she knew he still thought of her as Sam instead of Samantha like she asked. But she would always be his little tom boy, fixing the cars with daddy on Saturday, helping with the yard work, tossing a baseball in the back yard while mom watched.
God those were good days. Now Mark found himself trying to raise their daughter on his own, dealing with periods and dating. His little girl had grown up, and even at thirty seven, Mark felt old all of a sudden. Determined not to let this sudden funk he was in overcome him, he rose up off the bed and walked slowly over to the bathroom, undoing the buttons on his shirt as he walked. Peeling the shirt of his broad chest, he reached into the shower and turned the dials till the water temperature was just right, steaming hot, but not so hot that it would burn him.
He undid the button on his slacks and pulled the zipper down, letting his pants fall to the floor. He moved over to the full length mirror and examined himself, the broad shoulders and muscular chest. His hips were still slim, his stomach still firm, almost a six pack but not quite, strong legs, strong arms, "Huh," he thought to himself, "not bad at all for almost forty." He also took a close look at his cock, thinking that some higher power must have really liked him to endow him so well. His dick was 9" long if not longer, (he never felt it necessary to measure), and thick. He remembered fondly when Misty had first tried to fit her mouth around it and couldn't, mmm, but it was fun when she tried. Mark snapped out of his fond memories, then examined his face, he had jet black hair, slightly grayed at the temples, bright blue eyes, classic nose, firm but soft mouth that Misty, when she was alive, said could make her melt when he smiled in just the right way.
He moved away from the mirror and stepped into the shower, not locking the door as he usually did. He picked up the bottle of shampoo and started lathering his hair, again thinking back to when Misty was alive and they showered together. It would always start out innocently enough, but by the time they had washed each other, touching and caressing with the slick soap, they would end up with her pressed against the shower wall with his cock buried deep in her pussy, fucking wildly while the hot water sprayed down on them. He began rinsing his hair and looked down and smiled realizing that his cock remembered his showers with his wife fondly also.
