A Widow's Comfort Ch. 02 - Sex Stories

A Widow's Comfort Ch. 02

... bright yellow turtleneck seemed to be more a collar than part of the garment. Below the turtleneck, it opened up, a trapezoidal opening that put about a foot of cleavage on display. It was sleeveless except for a fine spaghetti strap that connected the shoulder of the garment to the elbow-length fingerless gloves she wore, leaving those big soft pads of fat at the back of her arms free to be seen and to wobble with each move.

The bodice of the garment fit so tightly you could see the line where flesh bulged where it was tight at where her waist had once been. It clung to her body and the short, pleated skirt was just long enough that if she stood still she was, well, "modest," but when she moved at all the darker tops of her light tan nylons showed along with the little keyhole shaped wires and buttons that held them to the garter belt she wore. She spun, showing that odd grace she showed sometimes, and I could see the white garter belt and very white French-cut panties she wore.

On her feet, yellow high heels, not full-on six-inch stilettos, but four-inch open-toed heels with ankle straps, what the girls at college called "fuck me shoes." looked good. I had never seen her in heels and these brought her to a little over five feet tall.

"I look like a whore," she said, "but your dad liked it and, well, I kinda do too." She blushed a little with that last.

"Welllll," I said, grinning as I took her hand and started for the door, "if I'm asked, which is it? A cheap ...

... whore for rent for an hour, or are you a high-priced call girl?"

She giggled at that.

"Honey, I'm many things," she said, "but cheap ain't among them."

"All right, then," I said, as I waited while she carefully locked the door when we left the house, "$5,000 for the night it is."

"That much?" she asked.

"Hey," I said, grinning, "prime costs."

"Welllllll," she said, drawing the final consonant out, "if the Man of the House says it, it must be true."

I laughed, opened the car door for her, helped her in, and then we were off.

I had reservations atAl's Supper Club for seven o'clock so we were right on time.

Al's was an old-fashioned "supper club." Besides excellent steaks and seafood, the tables fronted on a medium-sized dance floor with a raised stage at the other side. It looked like a scene out of a movie from the 1950s. It was my first time here and I loved the place.

"God," she said, giggling across the hubcap-sized table at me, "I feel more naked than I would if I didn't have any clothes on."

I reached across the table and touched the back of her hand.

"You look amazing," I said, "and I won't take one dime less than $5,000 for the night."

"Oh, God," she moaned and blushed again, quite prettily.

We ate, nopetit filet for Mom, she had the full ribeye with loaded baked potato, the house salad, and a double screwdriver. I had the steak, french fries, the house salad, and a pitcher of beer.

After dinner, no dessert for me but I did ...