A Widow’s Comfort

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They say not to make any big decisions after you’ve been bereaved. It’s stupid advice as we have nothing to do but make decisions: coffin, flowers, and photos for the service. Where to hold the wake afterward? What to do with his clothes, the things he loved, what to do with me? You’ve had time to discuss what might happen if you’re older. Maybe not; perhaps the longer it is, the more difficult it becomes to talk about.Chris and I hadn’t had that long at all. We’d only been married two years, together for four, but we’ve been so happy. I loved him so much; I still do and always will. Twenty-eight-year-old widows are an oddity. There’s a young widow’s club, but they class forty-five as young there. I’m an oddity because this isn’t supposed to happen. Six months after losing Chris in a motorway accident, I thought I’d moved on in some small ways. I walked around the house looking at photos of us and didn’t cry every time. Sometimes I smiled, briefly happy that I’d had our love before the unending sadness overwhelmed me at what I’d lost. His wardrobe was mostly cleared out. I’d kept some things: his best suit, a favourite shirt, a cuddly jumper, a leather jacket, and, of course, his favourite cologne. I would have to buy a new one soon; it was almost empty. I couldn’t lose that too. I sprayed it on his pillow every night, so I could lay in bed, close my eyes, and pretend he was still beside me. I missed him just being there, I missed him in countless ways, but in the past few weeks, I realised I missed him in new ways, too. I could hug that pillow that smelled of him as much as I wanted to, but it would never hug me back. It was never going to kiss, caress, and make love to me. Suddenly I was horny, so horny that I was surprised it took so long. Chris and I were both highly-sexed. I suppose we never really had a chance to leave that honeymoon phase. It was more than that, though; we just needed to be together in that way – a lot. Chris was an excellent lover, and I was a very satisfied wife. Six months and two days since I’d last made love to him. Six months and two days since I’d had any affection or male attention. Let’s not beat around the bush; six months and two days since I’d been given a good seeing to, as Chris would have said. The problem was that I had this physical need that was suddenly overpowering. I didn’t want to have a relationship; I didn’t want to date. It was too soon; I wasn’t ready, I might never be prepared.So, I carried on and tried to keep busy. It was the lawn Erenköy Escort mower that tipped me over the edge. That had been Chris’s domain. He’d had to have the big noisy lawn mower a little too big for our garden: boys and their toys. Bless him. I couldn’t get it to work correctly and then it stopped completely when I was halfway through. It was too much for me. All my frustration came out because of that stupid mower. I cried, screamed, and ended up sitting on the half-cut lawn. Eyes tight shut, sobbing like a baby. It was then that I felt arms around me. Strong arms were holding me tight, rocking me, soothing me. A deep voice told me it would be all right, that I would be all right.I opened my eyes to see Mal, my neighbour. He smiled at me, picked me up, and carried me into the house, although I was as light as a feather. That’s no mean feat, as I’m a curvy girl. Not fat, as Chris used to say, but a real woman with big breasts and a generous bum.It was also no mean feat as my neighbour Mal is sixty-seven. I hope I hadn’t damaged him. He deposited me gently on the nearest counter stool and went to put the kettle on.“Tea. I’ll make us a nice cup of tea. The British cure at all times of stress,” he smiled.“Sod that,” I muttered. “There’s wine in the fridge. Get it open now.”I managed to calm myself down and breathe as he poured us two huge glasses of wine. I looked properly at Mal. I know he’d been retired for a couple of years. I knew he’d lost his wife, Sherry, just before we moved in. Sadly, newly retired together, she’d got an infection and died within days. He had shown me a photo once; she was a stunning redhead who looked about fifty, certainly not sixty-five.I remembered what Mal had said as he took the picture back, “She was always at the gym, so fit, and then went so quick – pneumonia.”I remember the sad look on his face. Only now I knew how he felt. “It’s rubbish, isn’t it, this grieving business?” said Mal gently. “Times a great healer? Balls to that,” he said as he handed me my wine. Mal was a big guy, tall with a shock of curly white hair. He was still trim and fit but very definitely a man in his sixties. “So what stage are you at them, petal? Denial, anger, depression? You’re too early for acceptance, my love. Hell, it’s been three years for me, and I don’t think I’ll ever accept that I get to be here and my Sherry doesn’t.” With that, I watched as a tear ran down his cheek. “Sorry, love,” he grunted, “I’m meant to be helping you, not wallowing.” “It Erenköy Escort Bayan does help,” I smiled. “It helps a lot talking to someone who understands.” “I do understand, but it’s different for you. You lost Chris too early, too soon. I had my Sherry for 38 years, we’d watched our child grow, but it was still too soon. It’s always too soon, believe me.” With that, he held my hand. I noticed his muscular, tanned forearms. “You’re grieving for what you might have had, too. At least I’m not grieving for what might have been.” I must have drunk my wine too quickly as I suddenly blurted out, “There’s another stage of grief. I appear to be suffering from. That no one ever mentions.” Mal smiled at me knowingly, “It’s not the horny stage, is it?” I looked at him, shocked and embarrassed. “You’ve got to that stage quick, but then you’re only young. It took me about a year, but then I’m older. Of course, you and Chris were always very active in that way.” “How did you know?” “You were also very vocal, my love. I might be an old geezer, but there’s nothing wrong with my hearing. I was only on the other side of the wall. I lay there many nights listening to some of your and Chris’ finest work. No wonder you miss it. That boy was a sexual dynamo.” I should have been horrified, but I just laughed, warmed by the wine and happy memories. “I miss Chris in every way, but suddenly, I miss him that way too. Not just the sex; I miss the intimacy. I miss having him in my bed. I miss the hugs. I miss them most of all. When you hugged me before, it was the first time I felt a man’s arms around me for months.” “Well, if you ever need a hug, you know where I am. Anyway, I better go and finish your lawn with my mower. Will you be all right if I go?” As he said this. I couldn’t help looking down and noticing that his shorts had tented rather impressively. All this talk of sex had turned Mal on as much as me. I quickly glanced away and asked Mal if I could have a hug goodbye. He leaned forward and held me tight, but I noticed he angled his lower body away from me. He left quickly, but I thought about what he’d said, what he’d heard. I watched Mal as he finished my lawn. He was handsome and strong.  Maybe Mal was just what I needed. Someone to hold me, someone I could trust, to be with. I couldn’t have a romantic relationship with him. The age gap was too big. He was old enough to be my grandfather. Maybe I was just what he needed, too, a bit of affection, company, and sex. Escort Erenköy No strings attached,  a friend-with-benefits arrangement. That couldn’t hurt, could it? I did admit that I found him attractive, too. He was still a very good-looking man. I bet he’d been stunning in his younger days. Living next door, being in such proximity, literally on his doorstep, was a worry. If it all became too much, I’d move. I may have to do that eventually to escape some of the memories. To allow me to move on a little, finally. Perhaps, this would be my first step. One thing I was sure of was that Chris would tell me to go for it. He knew that Mal would be no threat to the memories of him, and he’d want me to be fulfilled and satisfied. I wondered if Mal could satisfy me. He certainly had no trouble getting hard. I just needed to be held. I needed someone in my bed. I needed Mal. I thought about how I would go about this. In the end, I decided on the direct route.Later that night, at 9:00 PM, I rang Mal. “Mal, are you busy? I need your help with something.” He said he’d be right over and was at the door within minutes, “Is everything OK, love?” “No, not really. I need one of those cuddles.” He smiled at me and opened his arms to embrace me. “No, not here,” I stammered, “I need those cuddles to be upstairs, upstairs in bed. I need there to be less clothes. I need you.” “Bloody hell, Ellie, are you sure? I’m old enough to be your dad.” “Actually, my dad is forty-nine. You’re old enough to be his dad.” “Exactly. What on Earth would you want me for? Once we cross this line, there’s no going back. Things won’t ever be the same.” “I’m fed up with the same,” I shouted, “The same is killing me.”  I took his hand and quietly continued, “I’m under no illusions. I know this is mad; I know you’re old, but I think you’re attractive. I’m not asking to marry you. I’m not asking for a relationship; I’m not ready for that. I’m asking you to have sex with me. I’m asking you to be my friend. My friend with benefits. Not forever, just for a little while. I’m asking you to make me feel like a woman again.” “Well then,” he said as I pulled him towards the bedroom, “In that case, it will be a pleasure.” A pleasure. It certainly was. By the time I had laid back on the bed. Mal had already stripped off his shirt to remove his shorts. He still had a good body, a little tummy, but being tall, he had long, well-shaped legs. He had very sexy legs. Unlike the hair on his head, his body hair was still dark; rising from a nest of dark hair was a thick cock. It was a cock any young man would have been proud to possess. I wanted it to be mine. I wanted to possess it. He kissed me for the first time. His strong arms were around me as he kissed me. His fingers sought out my wetness as I responded. 

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