BOOK TWO: Wrecking Her Widowed pussy(1)

~Elena's POV~

My pussy had been dead for months until Marcus walked through my door soaked from the rain and suddenly everything inside me woke up aching and wet.

Months after the funeral I still wore black most days. My husband’s death had left me completely numb with no desire no spark just empty lonely nights in the big house we once shared. When the doorbell rang that rainy afternoon I opened it to find Marcus my late husband’s father. Tall broad-shouldered silver threading his dark hair sharp jaw and those intense eyes that always seemed to see too much.

He looked even hotter than I remembered. The rain had soaked his shirt clinging to the hard lines of his chest and the powerful muscles underneath. My eyes lingered on the way the wet fabric outlined his broad shoulders and flat stomach. “Elena” he said voice deep and rough with grief and something else that sent a shiver down my spine. “I came to check on you. Bring some of his things you might want.”

I let him in heart suddenly racing for the first time in months. As we sat in the living room sorting through boxes our eyes kept locking across the coffee table. His gaze dropped openly to the way my black dress hugged my full breasts then slowly rose back to my face. I felt heat pool low in my belly actual wetness gathering between my thighs for the first time since the funeral. God what is wrong with me? This is my husband’s father. But my nipples tightened under the thin fabric and I had to press my thighs together trying to ignore the sudden throb in my clit.

When he leaned over to hand me an old photo his thick warm fingers brushed mine and lingered a second too long. The simple touch sent electricity straight to my core. The air crackled between us thick and heavy. I could smell him woodsy masculine mixed with rain and something darker that made my mouth water. We talked about my husband but the words felt distant while my mind wandered to dangerous places. What would those strong hands feel like on my skin? Sliding up my thighs? Spreading me open?

Marcus cleared his throat and set down the box he was holding. “You look good Elena. Considering everything. The black suits you but you have always looked beautiful in anything.” His voice was lower now eyes flicking down to my cleavage again before meeting mine. The compliment hung heavy between us. I felt my cheeks flush and my pussy clenched emptily.

“Thank you Marcus” I replied softly trying to keep my voice steady. “It has been hard. The house feels too big without him. Some nights I just lie there staring at the ceiling wondering if I will ever feel alive again.” I shifted on the couch letting my dress ride up a little on my thighs. His eyes followed the movement. Tension thickened the air. I could see the way his jaw tightened like he was fighting something inside himself.

He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. “If you ever need anything at all you call me. I mean it. You are still family.” The word family sounded wrong coming from him right now. His gaze held mine a bit too long and I felt fresh wetness soak my panties. My clit throbbed demanding attention. I crossed my legs tighter but it only pressed my swollen lips together making me bite back a soft whimper.

We kept sorting the boxes but the conversation turned quieter and more charged. “Remember that summer at the lake?” he asked handing me another photo. His fingers brushed mine again this time deliberately. “You wore that red swimsuit. I could not take my eyes off you even then.” Heat rushed through me. I remembered that day too the way he had watched me from the shore while my husband laughed nearby.

“I remember” I whispered my voice barely above a breath. “You always looked at me like you saw more than you should.” The admission hung between us dangerously and exciting. Marcus did not deny it. Instead his eyes darkened and he shifted in his seat adjusting himself discreetly. I could see the growing bulge in his pants and it made my mouth water.

After a while he stood up running a hand through his damp hair. “I think I need some air. The drive was long and being here brings up a lot. I will take a quick walk around the block before it gets dark. Clear my head.” His voice was rough like he was forcing the words out. He looked at me one last time eyes tracing my body before he turned toward the door. “I will be back soon Elena. Do not wait until you want to rest.”

The moment the front door clicked shut behind him the tension snapped inside me. My pussy had been dead for months but now it pulsed with urgent needy heat. I could not wait. I crept down the hallway toward the guest room my heart hammering in my chest. I told myself I was only going to check if he needed fresh towels but my body knew the lie. My panties were already soaked through.

I pushed the door open slowly. His scent hit me first woodsy masculine with a hint of rain filling the space and making my knees weak. The room felt intimate and dangerous like stepping into forbidden territory. My eyes landed on the bedside table where a framed photo of my husband and Marcus together sat. I picked it up glaring at the image. Look at you both smiling like the world was perfect. Now he is gone and I am here burning for his father while guilt and lust twist together inside me. I set the photo down harder than necessary the frame rattling softly.

I moved to the dresser. Another picture caught my eye Marcus standing tall and powerful at some family event years ago his shirt stretched across that broad chest his eyes staring straight out as if challenging me. I stared at it tracing the glass with my fingertip. You always looked at me too long didn’t you? Those intense eyes stripping me even when my husband was right there. My breath came faster. I imagined those same eyes on me now watching me touch myself. My clit pulsed hard at the thought, making fresh wetness leak into my panties.

I could not fight it anymore. I turned to the bed. The sheets were slightly rumpled from where he had rested earlier still carrying his warmth and scent. I sat on the edge first running my palm over the fabric feeling the heat he had left behind. Then I lay back fully hiked up my black dress spread my legs wide and slid my fingers into my soaked panties. For the first time in forever I was dripping. My folds were slick and swollen my clit hard and begging for attention.

I started slow rubbing gentle circles over my swollen clit moaning softly as pleasure sparked through me after months of nothing. “Mmmhh” The first touch felt electric. Oh god this feels so good. I should not be doing this in his bed surrounded by his things but I cannot stop. My fingers moved a little faster pressing firmer on my clit while my other hand squeezed my breast through the dress pinching my hard nipple. I dipped two fingers into my tight wet hole feeling how easily they slid in from all the slickness. Wet sounds filled the quiet room as I pumped them slowly curling to hit that sensitive spot inside me.

My hips rocked gently against my hand. I closed my eyes imagining Marcus’s thick rough fingers replacing mine. Sliding deep inside me. Stretching me open. Making me moan his name like a desperate widow. “Ahhh yes” I whispered biting my lip as I added a third finger stretching myself wider. What if he walked in right now? What would he think seeing me like this legs spread wide on his bed dress hiked up panties pushed aside fingers buried in my dripping cunt with his pictures watching? The forbidden thought made me even wetter. I rubbed my swollen clit harder with my thumb little gasps and soft moans escaping my lips. “Mmmhh Marcus… please…”

I lost myself in the rhythm fucking my fingers deeper rubbing my clit faster. My tits heaved with every breath my nipples tight and aching. Juice leaked down my ass crack soaking his sheets. The pressure built slowly but intensely after so long without release. I was right on the edge panting and whimpering when the bedroom door creaked open...