I recently wrote a story and mentioned my late wife June. I said that I found out some things about her past after her passing that were very disturbing. I'll try to explain our short life together, the secrets she kept from me, and what I did about them. Thank you to AirRichard101 for taking the time to edit this story.
June and I met at a singles event. We had both been married before. June had a daughter, Susan, who had graduated from high school, got married, and started a family of her own. When we met, Susan had been married for about six months. That's when June decided she was ready to start her new life and began going to these singles events hoping to meet the right man. She didn't want to be alone.
I asked her how it was going and she told me she was having fun but would like to settle down. She was dating a number of men but said they just didn't click for different reasons. She had recently broken up with one man she liked. She didn't talk much about him at the time but later told me he was a traveling salesman and was married. He attended these single events while on the road.
June and I seemed to get along great and began dating. I met her daughter and she was happy that her mother was finally dating one man. She once told me it bothered her that her mom was out on the singles-dating scene. Susan had said her mom often wore her feelings on her sleeve and was worried about men taking advantage of her.
Her first husband, Jim, left her when Susan was twelve. According to June, he never grew up; she had told me that they got married young. He wanted to party all the time and often came home drunk. They ended up getting divorced and June raised Susan with the help of her parents. Jim did pay child support until Susan turned eighteen.
I could tell by the way June talked that she had loved Jim. It just didn't work out. She had a sister who lived in Ohio who helped her find a job. June needed to get away from her old life. After the divorce, she was offered a secretarial position in Ohio and took it. Her parents lived in Michigan but she would go up a few weekends a year and every summer and visit them.
During the years that Susan was in school, June's parents would come and visit. Now they were getting up in age and that's why June made the annual summer trip to Michigan to visit them. I went up once with June and met her folks. They seemed like nice people but I'm not sure if they really cared for me. We never got close; they seemed to be standoffish.
I was used to being on my own so the adjustment to being married and the give and take was a little hard for me at first. I loved June and thought it was worth the effort. We bought a condo and set up housekeeping. June wanted some new furniture while I liked my old comfy couch and chair. We compromised and I set up the basement as a recreation room where I kept my furniture.
I also kept my TV downstairs to watch my sports. June and I were able to compromise pretty well. We actually took turns cooking. Since I lived alone for so long I became fairly good in the cooking department. Some nights we would go out for dinner.
Our love life was great until the cancer set in. We had five good years followed by three years of therapy and a lot of pain and anguish. I married her for better or for worse, through sickness and in health and I got all of it.
June worked in an office with her sister Nancy. I got along fine with Nancy and her husband Ed, but since June and I were older, me nearly fifty, I guess they wondered why I waited so long to get married. June told them I got married young and it didn't work out.
I got their respect when they saw first hand as June went downhill that I was there to take care of her. She quit work after the first year she had cancer. She said she just felt too sick after the therapy sessions. I let her know that she didn't need to work, that I would take care of her.
For the first five years, life was good. We compromised on most everything. After all, we both were somewhat opinionated and lived without a spouse for a number of years, but it didn't interfere with our sex life. It started the day we met at the singles party. She looked so beautiful and sexy in her tight, short dress.
I worked out regularly so I didn't look too shabby for my age either. We talked and then we danced some more. I liked holding her tight against me. She didn't complain but instead put her arms around my neck. As we danced and had a few drinks, other guys wanted to butt in and dance with June, but I told them to get lost; she belonged to me.
It made her laugh and she invited me to her place. There was no doubt that I wanted to go. Our lovemaking began as soon as we walked into her house.
I began to remove her dress and bra while ogling her breasts. I leaned down, began to kiss her neck, and moved my way down to her breasts. I kissed and sucked on each nipple while she moaned. She was nearly naked except for her thong panties. I kneeled down in front of her and with both of my hands, slowly slid them down her soft legs. Kissing her thighs, I moved upward until my mouth was at her pussy. She shaved hers except for a small patch of hair above her clit. I kissed it lightly and stood up.
"Ben, I need to sit down. You're making my knees weak," she said to me and she sat on the edge of her bed.
It didn't take long for me to remove my shirt and pants. June had pulled down my underwear and her mouth found my erection. She was going at it like a mad woman. She gripped my ass cheeks and took as much of my cock in her mouth as she could. I had to stop her before I came down her throat.
We got onto the bed and I positioned my cock at her pussy. She was soaking wet. With little resistance, I pushed deep into her pussy. Once again, she was grabbing my ass, trying to pull me in even deeper. I slowed down my strokes and pulled my cock nearly all the way out, before pushing it back in her.
"Oh, fuck me, come on and fuck me hard," she screamed.
I lifted her legs and held them up while pounding into her. I could feel myself getting ready to come and told June.
"Go ahead, come in me. Oh God! I feel it, oh so good." she was now having an orgasm of her own. I let her legs down and could feel her pussy pulsate and spasm. She was milking my cock of all its cum.
After we both came, she took a quick shower. I dressed, took a beer out of the fridge, and sat on her couch to wait. She came out in her robe and sat next to me. "You were great," she said to me. "I don't usually have sex on the first date but I'm glad I made you an exception."
I leaned over and kissed her. For some reason I knew she was the one for me. I put my hand on her soft thigh and worked it up to her pussy. She moaned and asked me if I wanted to spend the night and I accepted. We made love two more times that night. I couldn't believe I could get it up that many times but with her help, it was no problem.
We began dating and I met her daughter who was pregnant. She could deliver any day. I guess if June and I got married I would be a grandfather of sorts. Susan and I weren't really close but we did get along. Her husband Jeff seemed like a nice guy and treated her well. He was an accountant at the local bank.
June and I dated for three weeks. It was kind of a whirlwind romance. Every time we were together, we made love or had sex, whichever you want to call it. I knew that I didn't need any other woman and I asked June to fly to Las Vegas to get married.
At first, she seemed surprised. She didn't answer me right away. I asked her if there was someone else and she seemed to hesitate before saying no, there wasn't. It was a couple of days later after we had sex that she said she would marry me.
Her daughter and sister both thought we were rushing into marriage but they did wish us the best. We flew to Las Vegas the following weekend where Elvis married us. At least the minister was dressed like Elvis and we heard Elvis songs during our short ceremony.
We seemed to be a good team. We argued very little and I did my best to make our marriage work. June didn't talk a lot about her past sexual partners, which was fine with me. I knew that she learned all these sexual tricks somewhere. Now it was to my benefit. I sometimes felt a bit jealous when she danced with other men, but she always returned to me with a smile.
Over the few years of our marriage, we had sex often. There was nothing June wouldn't do for me. We had oral sex with both of us giving and receiving. She liked to be on top a lot, she said she felt more in control. I liked it so I could play with her tits while she was on my lap facing me.
We even did anal a few times but she said I was a bit large for her. I wasn't a big anal guy anyway. It actually hurt my cock but I wouldn't tell her, after all, I was a guy. We were like newlyweds and tried most everything. We even did it in the car a few times. I must admit that it was a bit uncomfortable.
I did love putting my hand on her bare thigh and then work my way up and start fingering her in public places. As far as I know, we were never observed or others might have just enjoyed watching us.
One week out of every year, June would go to Michigan in the summer to visit her parents and help them out. After visiting them the one weekend I didn't go back. June said she spent time helping them clean up their place.
We would always have a big round of sex before she left for Michigan and again after she returned. I did miss her but enjoyed the free time to do some of the things I liked to do. Even though I went to the bar with friends, I stayed true to June. I wanted our marriage to work and didn't want to do anything to harm it.
For five years, all was good. We had sex regularly and I trusted her. She introduced me to her friends at work and I introduced her to my truck driving friends at the terminal. Even her daughter and sister believed we had a good marriage. They even said at times we acted like newlyweds, which we thought we were.
In our sixth year of marriage, her stomach started bothering her. She went to the doctor and he said he needed to run more tests. She went into the hospital and we got the worst news possible. She had developed pancreatic cancer. They said it was in the early stages and started treatment.
This went on awhile and she didn't seem to be getting any better. She began to lose her hair and started buying wigs. On the outside, she looked fine but the disease was taking over her insides. Our sexual situation was very limited. At times when she felt better, we would try sex of one form or another. By the end of the second year, our sex life all but stopped.
We thought the cancer was going into a remission, at least it seemed that way, and then come back. The doctors eventually told us she had approximately six months to live. We both cried. We got all her affairs in order and spent the last few months being together watching TV or just cuddling. I wanted her to know I would be with her until the end.
During her final months she told me repeatedly how sorry she was and that I deserved better. I would tell her it wasn't her fault, things happen and then she would cry. Now I think I know what she was trying to tell me.
Once the cancer was detected, she called her parents and told them she wouldn't be visiting. They did come down to see her twice. It was very emotional especially when they came down for the funeral. No parent wants to bury his or her kids no matter what the age. They did thank me for taking care of her.
During the weeks following the funeral, I would come home to sort out her personal belonging and give them to her daughter. Nancy, her sister and Susan offered to help me but I told them it was something I needed to do alone. It was my way of coping.
Far back in her closet, I discovered a shoe box that read, 'family pictures'. I took it to the living room and thought I'd look through them. I opened the box and immediately felt something was wrong. There was a stack of letters that I never remember seeing. I looked at one postal stamp and saw it was dated two years before.
I opened it and it was from a man. He explained how much fun that they had when they got together and that he would truly miss her. He went on to explain how much he loved her and wished they could have stayed together. I knew the letters were from Jim, her ex-husband.
I kept reading parts of different letters in which he talked about his other family, how he wished he never remarried, and wished she never remarried either.