I was only partly right; the zipper was the skirt, but the rustle was you removing and folding your suit jacket. I feel cool silk against the tops of my shoulders.Your soft breasts cradle the back of my head, and your hands grasp my breasts and kneed them. My nipples immediately harden under your touch, and I feel the familiar tension as my penis begins to engorge. “Oh my, but we’re eager, aren’t we?” you say, chuckling deep in your throat. Your voice goes right through me, and I feel my testicles begin to move inside their sac. “This is incredibly erotic,” I say, and my voice croaks a little. I suddenly realize my throat is parched; I guess when I came the last time, I must have been panting. “You sound dry. Let me get you some ice water.” “Thank you, Mistress.” The glass feels cool against my lower lip, and I drink thirstily, as you tilt it to me. I stop swallowing before you straighten the glass, and a little dribbles down my chin onto my chest. It is cold, and I jump,. Norman was trying to press conversation, I probably wasn’t helping. But there was just one question that was burning me up, finally I found a moment and asked him directly. ‘How did you know I was a widow?’ I asked. He hesitated, I saw the hint of a blush, he answered, ‘I read your story on Literotica, put two and two together, and realized it had to be you!’ I just looked at him in shock! No way to hide, hell, I hadn’t been able to hide from this man from the beginning. ‘Did you read Ted’s stories?’ I had to ask. ‘Yes’, he told me, ‘That must have been one hell of a man!’ ‘He was!’ I answered, doing my best to be aloof. We finished the meal in a very loud silence, the kind that is noticeable. A band started playing, mercifully. Norman smiled and asked me if I would like to dance, so we got up and did some fumblings on the floor. I would say that was a bit of a struggle, mostly me, I had not been on a dance floor in another man’s arms in 20 years! Ted and I would simply melt into one.
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