Young Widows Club

by Bridy McAvoy

  She stroked up and down the length of his hard erection, and watched as a tiny drop of pre-cum oozed from the hole at the end. Her other hand dipped lower still to cradle his balls as he groaned in response to her ministrations. Given the way her slow, wager-bound striptease had played out, the way he’d been hard throughout the long session at the pool table, she didn’t think he’d last.

  There’s probably going to be a second time then!

  She shuddered at her own thought, knowing he intended to fuck her before she left, and surprising herself by looking forward to it. She sighed and lowered her mouth to within an inch of the tip of his cock then, giggling to herself, remembered how he had teased her, and decided it was her turn. Instead of taking him into her mouth, she just blew gently across the now lubricated top, rewarded to feel him shudder in pent-up passion underneath her.

  “Don’t do that.”

  She turned her head to look up at him and grinned into his lust-fueled gaze. “Why not? You teased me.”

  “And you’d teased me before that. Turnabout is fair but you’re quite vulnerable to reprisal if you do it again.”

  “Oh, am I?”

  She turned her head back to the task in hand and, without thinking about any potential consequences, blew across the tip of his prick once again, much harder this time. He shuddered again then she felt a stinging pain.

  Slap!

  His hand had come down hard on her upturned and totally unprotected butt. The pain and surprise lifted her hips clear of the couch for a second as she jerked in surprise.

  “Ow!”

  “Warned you!”

  One hand left her current toy and moved along her body to rub the affected area, only to encounter his hand doing the same thing. His caress against her newly-smarting skin brought a soft mewl from her as the mixture of pleasure and pain sank through her body. After a few seconds she moved her hand back to cupping his balls and this time, when she lowered her face to the job in hand, she opened her mouth and engulfed the first inch or so of his cock.

  She felt his free hand drop onto the top of her head but he didn’t exert any pressure. Angie stayed still for a moment, her lips around the thickest part of his cock, just behind the head, as she fought down the realization that this was the first cock she’d had in her mouth since her husband’s death. The first cock, other than his, in the last six or so years. She tried to put the thoughts and images out of her mind and concentrate on doing what she’d set out to do, but it wasn’t easy. She tickled the little hole in the end with the tip of her tongue and felt him shift under her as he responded to the stimulus.

  Deftly applying some suction, she flattened her tongue along the bottom of her mouth and drew more of him into her oral cavity. As the thick ring of flesh at the bottom of the bell slipped past her lips, she forced herself to breathe in through her nose and sucked harder, lifting her tongue to touch the bottom side of his cock. He groaned and pressed down on the back of her head. Not hard, but just enough to show her he liked what she was doing and wanted more. His other hand was busy too. Having stroked and caressed her ass, it moved lower on her body, starting to dive down between her legs. She shifted her left leg a little, widening the gap between her thighs, allowing him access to her pussy and shuddered as she felt his finger slide onto the wet slit.

  His hips jerked under her, pushing another inch or so of himself into her mouth, and the end hit the back of her mouth. She almost gagged, fought down the reflex, and brought her hand up to grip the girth of his cock just below her mouth. She could feel him pulse inside her mouth as she alternately sucked and licked at him then gently drew her mouth off, scraping her teeth along the length of him until he popped back out into the open. She drew in a great lungful of air and licked her lips before returning her attention to his cock and licking along the length. Her hand began to pump at it, pulling the foreskin forward and back in front of her eyes as she teased him again. She was conscious of his other hand touching her own privates, and waited with bated breath for his hand to leave her in preparation for another spank. She felt the pressure of his fingers against her slit lessen but before he could move further, she engulfed him, giggling around the head and making him gasp.

  “Oh, God, that’s good. Don’t stop.”

  She tried not to giggle again but couldn’t stop it, then realized it was the giggle that made him enjoy it more.

  Angie wondered if that was what a hummer meant, but couldn’t prevent a further snort of laughter as he pushed down on her head, forcing himself to the back of her mouth.

  For the next couple of minutes she alternated between sucking him all the way to the back of her mouth, and holding it up in front of her face as she licked it. All the while, one hand caressed his balls while the other held the base of his cock, preventing him from thrusting it further into her mouth than she wanted him to. She’d never taken her husband into her throat, and didn’t intend to break that with her husband’s boss. Beneath her, his movements became more and more ragged, and she could feel his skin flush where she was in contact with him.

  Angie was surprised he’d lasted even this long. His self-control during their time around the pool table and when he ate her was now breaking down. She didn’t need him to tell her he was getting close to evening the score at one cum each.

  “I hope you…swallow.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  She took him into her mouth for what appeared to be about the final time and felt his bell swell in her mouth. She gripped his cock fiercely as he convulsively jammed two fingers into her pussy and then a stream of cum bathed the back of her mouth as he fired out his pent-up frustration. She swallowed, feeling the gooey stuff sliding down her throat as another stream fired out to join it. Then another, and another, and then three or four more of much less intensity. She swallowed hard again, feeling the jism slide down her throat, tasting it as it bathed her taste buds and her mouth filled with saliva. Underneath her, he relaxed and she pulled away, allowing his still rigid, but now spent, cock to fall from her lips, and laid her head back on his belly, looking at it as he also withdrew his fingers from her lust-swollen pussy lips.

  “God!”

  She chuckled. “You like?”

  “Jeez, girl, you give good head.”

  “A lady likes a compliment, but I’m not sure that’s one.”

  He laughed, roughly pulling her up until her head was leaning on his shoulder, his arm resting on her naked back. She tilted her head back to look into his eyes. “Believe me, Angie, it was a compliment. You about sucked me dry.”

  “Ah… And there was me thinking you’d want to go again.”

  His eyes danced with mischief as he responded to her and she felt his arm tighten around her back. “I intend to. You came over here to be fucked, remember, and you will be.” He looked down past her head to where his now softening cock lay against his lower belly. “Just not yet, I guess. What do you say to another rack of pool?”

  “What?”

  “Another rack of pool. Different wager this time, though.”

  “Oh. What’s the wager?”

  “If you win, I fuck you missionary, or if I win, I fuck you doggie.”

  She chuckled. The idea of being bent over the edge of the pool table as he fucked her was suddenly far more appealing than it had been an hour earlier. “Okay, but make it best of three racks. You need some recovery time. Does that mean I get my dress back?”

  He shook his head.

  “Thought not. That means you lose your clothes too.”

  “Fair’s fair, I guess.”

  She pulled her feet up under her and crouched next to him as her fingers started to work on the shirt buttons.

  Part III

  The insistent ringing of the doorbell woke Angie from a deep sleep. She looked, bleary-eyed, at the alarm clock that still sat on Darrell’s side of the bed. She peered at the numbers trying to make sense of the red glow until it snapped into focus. Ten-fifteen. She allowed her head to sink back to
her pillow with a groan then the bell rang again and, lifting her head, she forced herself to a sitting position. The sun streamed through open curtains and she realized she hadn’t even closed them when she went to bed. Her head pounded from the amount of wine consumed the night before, on top of the daytime Margaritas on an empty stomach. She shuddered as memories of the debauched evening flooded back into her mind.

  The bell rang again and, more in an effort to silence it than anything else, she swung her legs over the side of the bed and looked down at herself, somewhat surprised to notice she was naked. She couldn’t remember taking her clothes off when she got home, and she usually wore something to bed—a nightie, if not PJ’s or a sleep tee.

  Her long toweling robe hung invitingly on the hook on the back of the bathroom door and, rising to her feet, she grabbed it, suddenly conscious that with the curtains open her nudity was visible to the outside world. She shook her head in disgust at herself. Their bedroom window wasn’t overlooked by any other house. Only Robert might have a slight view, if he was on top of his garage roof, and then on a stepladder! Besides, he was the one who’d seen it all the night before, so what was the point in pretending to be upset about her lack of modesty.

  The bell rang again as she was halfway down the stairs, belting the robe securely as she went. She wrenched the door open to find Becky standing there, impatient and expectant, clutching a large bouquet of flowers in one hand, her other hand reaching for the bell-push one more time.

  “Well, finally! God, you look a state. Good night, was it?” She pushed past Angie and strode into the kitchen, still carrying the flowers. “Right. Coffee, and lots of it and, from the look on your face, Advil to go with it. By the way, these are for you. The florist buzzed the gate but you didn’t answer, so tried me. I took them for you and then came around to see how you were, and this is how I found you.” Becky grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes for a moment, then turned her around and pushed her toward the stairs with a gentle pat on her rump. “Upstairs, girl. Shower. I’ll have the coffee and Advil ready, and some toast for breakfast by the time you get back down here. You’ll need to get your skates on. Pattie and Trish will be around at eleven. We agreed not to disturb you, but I saw the state you were in when you crossed the street last night. Thought you might need a hand.” She brandished the flowers as Angie turned back to face her. “These just gave me an excuse, babe. Now scoot.”

  “You watched me last night?”

  Becky shrugged. “Watched for you, sweetie. You looked a bit worse for wear. At least I hope it was only the alcohol that meant you couldn’t walk straight. Or maybe it wasn’t.”

  Her cackle of laughter brought a flush of heat to Angie’s face as well as a pounding inside her head. She mouthed bitch at her friend, even though she didn’t really mean it, and turned back to the stairs. The idea of a shower suddenly seemed appealing.

  Twenty minutes later, just as she pulled a hairbrush through the tangle that the shower had left, she heard a soft knock on the front door. She listened for a moment, then heard Becky’s heels clatter across the hall floor and the door open. Without needing to be told, she guessed the hushed tones meant the other two friends had arrived, and as soon as she went downstairs the inquisition would begin. All three would want to know what she’d been through, and what to expect for themselves. She shivered, not really wanting to recount the details of the evening before to her friends. Besides, Robert had told her to keep some of it quiet, ensuring the others would react naturally to what happened when it was their turn. She hadn’t had a chance to tell Trish yet, but tonight it was her turn. She had no idea what was in store for each of them. Robert had no intention of playing pool with any of the other three.

  She pulled a T-shirt over her head, and combed her hair through her fingers. Not a perfect look, but today definitely seemed a jeans and T-shirt kind of day. She forced a smile at herself in the mirror and headed for the top of the stairs. One thing, though, she was going to insist on that coffee and pain-killers before trying to talk to any of them. Even the idea of some toast sounded like a good idea. Suddenly she was ravenous.

  “Well, here’s the lady of the moment!”

  Angie nodded her head in response to Pattie’s words and walked past both her and Trish into the kitchen. Becky handed her a mug of coffee and a couple of pain-killers without speaking and she gulped the pills down and swallowed half the mug before turning to face her other friends.

  “Sorry, honey, you need some space?”

  This time Pattie’s tone was different, more conciliatory, and it was obvious she’d realized Angie was suffering from a hangover.

  “Too much wine.”

  “Ah.”

  “But I’m okay. Just give me a minute. Shower helped, but right now I need this coffee.”

  Becky passed her a plate with a couple of slices of toast and inclined her head for the other two to go through into the family room, then followed them, leaving Angie with a minute or so alone. She knew her friends were concerned for her, but also were desperate for information about the evening before, and she wasn’t sure she wanted, or was able or allowed, to answer their inevitable questions. She ate half a slice of toast before the thought of anymore made her queasy, topped off her coffee from the half-empty pot and walked through to join them.

  “So, come on, spill the beans.”

  As ever, it was Pattie who took the lead and Angie forced a smile to her face. “Why, a lady never tells, you know.”

  Becky snorted into her coffee and even Trish, normally the quietest of the four, had difficulty dealing with that one. She waited for one of them to respond, expecting it to be Pattie, but it was Becky who spoke.

  “What happened last night was not anything ladylike.”

  Angie shrugged then realized that wasn’t a good idea, the movement hurting her head, but at least the shower, coffee, food and pills were starting to help. “You’d be surprised. It was quite ladylike. Very civilized.”

  “You mean he didn’t jump your bones the moment you walked through the door?”

  “No, Pattie, he didn’t. He was a gentleman. In fact, he was on the phone, a work call, when I got there, and for the next twenty minutes. We sat in his family room after that and had a glass of wine.”

  “More than one by the state of you this morning.”

  “That was later—much later.”

  “Oh, so you had a drink after the dirty deed.”

  She giggled then decided giggling hurt her head as well. “No, more like during.”

  “What?”

  Angie closed her eyes for a second and gathered her thoughts. Her friends were anxious for two reasons—firstly, out of concern for her but also because they would each be going through the same or a similar experience over the next few days. She at least had had a big advantage over them. She’d only had a few hours’ warning before getting herself glammed up and dressed to thrill before going over the road for Robert to fuck her. Her friends had had one night, and two of them would have at least another to fret about it, although for Trish, the waiting was about to get more intense—the moment she told the quietest of her friends it was her turn next.

  “Are you going to let me tell you, or are you going to keep firing questions at me?”

  Pattie, who’d been about to ask another question, shut her mouth and nodded. “Okay, sorry. I guess I’m a little antsy about the whole thing, and since you got to be first…”

  “Not my choice—his.”

  “I know, and we’re all thinking it’s likely to be our turn tonight.”

  “Well, it is for one of you.”

  “You know who? Is it me?”

  “You really want me to tell you, now?”

  She looked at all three of her friends in turn. First Pattie who nodded, then Becky who was a little slower in nodding and then Trish who seemed the most reluctant of all, but who also nodded after a few seconds of Angie staring at her.

  “Sorry, Trish.”
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br />   The other woman raised her hand to her mouth in shock, and Angie could see her shoulders slump, tears starting to form in her eyes. Before she could move, Becky had got there, wrapped her arms around her, and pulled her to her chest as the tears came in earnest.

  Pattie stayed silent and Angie raised her coffee mug to her other friend, using it to point toward the kitchen. Pattie nodded and the two of them quietly left the room and, once in the kitchen, Angie took a refill and filled a fresh one for Pattie, then set the machine working again to make another jug. It was obviously going to be that kind of day.

  In the quiet they could hear Trish sobbing as Becky held her and Pattie moved close so the two of them could talk in hushed tones.

  “I only want to know one thing.”

  “Oh?”

  “Is he any good?”

  This almost startled a laugh out of Angie, and she bit her lip to prevent herself giggling.

  Pattie ploughed on. “Well, is he? Has he got any staying power? Does he do foreplay? Did he make you cum? Before, during, after?”

  “I plead the fifth.” Angie shook her head, smiling at her friend but refusing to answer the probing questions that tumbled from her friend’s mouth one after the other. In the other room Trish’s sobs had subsided and Angie pointed Pattie toward two empty mugs. Armed with the coffees for each of the other women, they walked back to the family room. Becky was still sitting next to Trish but was no longer holding her. Trish’s face looked puffy and her eyes were red from the storm of weeping, but she seemed in control of herself now.