Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Romantic, Heterosexual, True Story, Safe Sex, Oral Sex, .
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Steve is trying to rebuild his life after a tragic loss.
I hated weekends when I didn't have the kids, but then they have to spend time with their grandparents now and then, they need the contact and stability of family around them, its hard bringing up two small children alone, their mother died eighteen months ago of a long and protracted terminal illness. We had met at university and had been inseparable ever since. In truth she was the only woman I had ever loved, we had a great life, nice house, she was an infant's teacher and I had progressed through a series of commercial roles until I had reached senior management. Two great kids, and by the time I was 39, I was running my own consultancy and life couldn't have been better, she was 37 and although not as petite as she was when we first met, we still had an active an adventurous sex life and to me she was the most beautiful women I had ever met and I couldn't imagine ever not being with her, in truth she was my life.
Let me tell you about her, As I said Jane was 37 years old, 5'3" dark hair cut fashionably around her neck, great breasts, large around 38C, with just enough droop to make them interesting, but still firm enough to be proud, to me she was perfect, her eyes were just like pools of rich green water, with so much life, that sparkled its vitality every time she spoke, a trim waste, hips and bum that I never tired of stroking or caressing. Then four days after her 37th birthday she collapsed and my life was never the same ... That was two years ago today, no one remembered that this was the anniversary of her first falling ill, but I knew I never would forget. How could I forget the taste of lips when we kissed, the little words of encouragement when I was worried or nervous, and the look in her eyes after we made love. Now I knew only too painfully what people meant when they said that the day you lost your partner part of you died too. I certainly felt like only a small part of me was left. I made an effort; I truly did, for the kid's sake, for our families, especially her parents, who seemed to age 10 years over night. I worked harder than ever, spent more time with the kids than ever and virtually never slept at all. But I was two parents in one now. I needed to be multi talented, able to juggle life, business and responsibility, after all I could cope, it was my duty.
Anyway, here I was alone, missing my lover, my friend, my wife, but with the biggest and hardest erection I could remember in a long while, it was if she was still here, I saw her enter the room in one of my old t-shirts and tight skimpy knickers, that she loved to wear. She smiled, told me she had missed me, lifted up her T-shirt to flash her naked breasts. I laughed out loud at the way she sauntered over to me, with that look in her eyes that told me we were going to make love. She stood in front of me dancing, I could hear music in the background, she was running her hands over her body, staying out of reach, teasing me, gyrating infront of me willing me to reach out and pull her toward me, yet at the same time staying elusive, god I loved her, gradually she began to lift the cotton T-shirt above her body, flashing snippets of her soft flesh, turning her back as she sensually thrust her beautiful heart shaped bum toward my face, whilst bending forward so that I could see the hard nipple as her breasts fell forwards as the loose T-shirt gaped. I had forgotten how great a pair of tits could look when framed by the V of a great pair of legs and crowned by a glorious and sexy backside, clad only in skimpy silk panties.
Slowly and sexily she turned round and lifted the shirt over head, making her large breasts jut out invitingly, I needed to touch her so badly, feel her close again. She smiled and circled her pointed nipple with a clear-varnished nail of her perfect finger, seductively sucking her finger deep into her mouth before repeating the ritual on the other nipple. I was so horny; my erection was pushing against my shorts like I couldn't remember. My robe was the only thing between decency and showing the world my condition, just then my beautiful wife lifted her right breast as high as she could and began by bending her head towards her nipple to tease it with her outstretched tongue, before drawing it fully into her mouth and sucking it deep as I watched tongue wrestle with rock hard teat as she became lost in her own pleasure. I loved it when she did this for me. I marvelled as she let her right breast fall from mouth repeated the exercise by drawing her now hard left nipple deep into mouth as began to worship her own body once more. Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of mischief, love and unadulterated lust.
She stopped and beckoned me over, never once speaking, as I stood my bathrobe fell to the floor, and I stood in front of her in my crisp white boxers, she sank to her knees as my shorts dropped to the floor, licked her lips as my rock hard cock sprung into full view. Now I have to say I'm not the biggest guy in the world but standing there in front of Jane as her tongue brushed the full length of my six and half inches, I didn't care, I was happy. I took hold of my member and started to rhythmically moved my hand up and down the shaft as she sucked on the bell end of my cock, while she sucked, she managed to probe the eye of my member with the tip of her tongue, her teeth gently rubbing up and down the shaft and she moved her head backwards and forwards, encouraging me to match her rhythm with upwards pelvic thrusts. Yet her fingers nails were caressing the sack of my balls, sending shivers of excitement repeatedly through my body. Eventually I could take it no longer and came hard and strong into her velvet mouth, willing her to swallow my cum, as she always did. As I came to my senses, I reached out run my fingers lovingly through her silky dark hair. Only to realise that I was alone and that there was great dollops of come over the lounge floor. It had been a dream, a very real dream, but a figment of my imagination never the less.
I sat there and cried, tears of anger and joy at finding a way of bringing her back to me, if only for a short period, and finally tears of despair at the love of my life was never coming back. It had taken 18 months for me to cry, to be able to grieve for my loss, but finally I had subconsciously steered myself to a position- however bizarre- that I could say goodbye.
I sat there for a very long time, thinking about the state I was in, I was drained, and I couldn't believe that I had got so out of control. I sat there and flicked the play button on the VCR and watched the message she had recorded for the kids while she was still well enough to know what she wanted to say. Only this time there wasn't the sense of moroseness that usually accompanied it, especially when she told them how much she loved us all, today I felt a sense of relief, a lighter mood, almost of a lifted burden.
I wasn't sure what had happened, I knew it couldn't have really taken place, but I needed it to have happened, that way I felt I had been released.