Niomi's Tears
Chapter 14

Copyright© 2011 by Amanda Pierce

Incest Sex Story: Chapter 14 - The downfall of a beautiful Japanese wife and mother.

Caution: This Incest Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   NonConsensual   Rape   Lesbian   Heterosexual   Incest   Mother   Son   Masturbation   Squirting   Slow  

At breakfast the next morning, the storm having blown itself out, both Kitsu and Niomi had difficulty finding words. Both had much to express, but neither felt comfortable in view of the fact that Niomi remained a married woman.

"I ... I would like to see you again," he said quietly.

"Do you really think that wise?"

"I simply know that last night..."

"Last night should not have happened. If it hadn't been for the storm..."

"We both wanted what happened last night, and it was wonderful, but it is not the sex of which I speak."

"Oh?"

"No. Last night I found a woman, a very beautiful woman who I also discovered is intelligent and sensitive, sadly, to whom life has been unfair."

"We deserve what we get in life."

"Not always, Niomi. You deserve much better than the life you are living. I would like to think I could offer you more. More love, more respect and understanding."

"Of that I am sure. What I am not sure is that I deserve you."

"You just said that you deserve what life gives you. I can give you a very different life than this."

"I am married, Kitsu. I gave a vow."

"As did your husband. I think we can both agree that he has not kept his."

"But it doesn't alter the vow I made."

"Come with me, Niomi. Let us leave now, this very moment."

Her eyes were sad and then she looked away.

"I cannot. I must honor my commitment."

"Even though he does these disgusting things?"

"Sadly, yes. I am his wife and I have sworn to obey him in all things."

"But surely..."

"You have no idea how it saddens me to say this. I must stay with my husband and son."

"I cannot say that I understand, but I respect your decision. I suppose this means goodbye."

"Yes, my dear sweet Kitsu. Goodbye."

He rose, slowly putting on his jacket.

"I hope if you know nothing else, that you will forever know that you are admired and respected ... and loved."

With that he turned and although Niomi wanted with all her heart to call him back, to shower him with kisses and agree to leave with him, her heart breaking, she stood silently as the one man with whom she felt she could honestly be happy, walked out the door and disappeared down the path to the village.

Only now did she allow the tears to flow. For almost an hour she wept, fully aware of what she had just lost. Then, slowly, she began to perform her duties about the house as she awaited the return of Arora and Hyota and the life they had planned for her.


"Mrs. Hawasawa?" asked the uniformed officer.

The sun was setting. Niomi had been expecting Arora and Hyota since mid-afternoon.

"I am Niomi Hawasawa."

"Mrs. Hawasawa, I am sorry to bring such bad news. Your husband and son were lost at sea in the storm last night."

"What?" she cried in shock.

"They were told of the approaching storm by radio but refused to make harbor. They indicated they would ride out the storm at sea. The remains of their boat was found a few hours ago. We found their bodies an hour later. I am sorry."

Niomi felt lightheaded and, near fainting, she had to be helped back inside the house. Once again tears filled her eyes and sadness filled her heart for despite all Arora and Hyota had put her through, she had never, not for a single moment, wished evil to befall them. Their loss to her was profound.


The funeral was simple, attended by a few of Arora's and Hyota's friends. Miori, Hyota's girlfriend remained true to character and left the village for greener pastures, not even staying for the funeral. Both were cremated according to Buddist tradition and burial was in a family plot on the hillside behind the house. Kitsu and Saburo attended but kept a discrete distance to discourage any village gossip. Niomi thanked them for coming, but although both offered assistance, she insisted she must observe the forty-nine days of mourning as was called for by tradition.

 
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