” Can I get you something ? ” Mrs Emmet
” Water, a glass of water. ” She said standing over her husbands casket. He lay there peaceful in his fresh business suit. All ready for the funeral the next day.
Brian returned with a glass of water handing it to Patrica.
” Thank you. ” She said ” He looks so peaceful. ” She added.
” He does. ” Brian said.
” I told him the heart attack would get him if he didn’t slow down working so much, and fucking those bimbos at the office. ” Patrica said sharply.
” Pardon. ” She said adjusting her dress. She wore a tight black dress with spagetti straps her C Cup cleavage for all to see. Her back stockings and high heels.
She was 62. Long black hair very attractive she looked years younger than she was.
Brian a 54 yr old undertaker stood with her looking at body.
” Hated that moustache as well ” , she said. ” I have a good mind to shave it off. Hes dead hes not going to know. ” She said.
Brian stood not knowing what to say. The widow telling him the deceased secrets.
” He would spend late nights at the office working he would say. I know he had some broad over his desk fucking her. ”
” Your certain ? ” Brian said.
” Of course, he would come home his cock smelling like some girls pussy. He denied it. But I knew. ”
” Why didn’t you divorce him ? ”
” He made good money, the kids as well. ” Patricia said. ” Tomorrow I have to act like the grieving widow. ”
” Are you a grieving widow ? ” Brian asked.
” As a wife no, as a mother, as a grandmother yes. I wont miss his cheating. If his little slut is there tomorrow. I’m not responsible for my actions. ” She said turning to him.
” We might have to ask her to stay away tomorrow if she comes. ” Brian said.
” Ah no, let the slut grieve him, say to me sorry for your loss. No darling not my loss. ” Patricia said a tear coming to her eye
” You ok. ” Brian said putting his hand on her shoulder.
” Yeh I’m fine. Gave him the last 44 years. How many of those were you cheating on me ? ” She asked her dead husband. She leant in kissing his forehead. She turned to face Brian. She grabbed his tie.
” Fuck me, here, now. ” She said.
” Patricia no, I cant. ” He said.
” Hes not going to know. ” She said.
” Respect for the deceased. ” He said.
” Respect, he didn’t respect me. Now fuck me. ” She said. Brian looked at him at her. It had been a fantasy fucking the grieving widow. He thought it would never happen. Now here he was, it was coming true. She was so sexy hot. He wasn’t married. Was he going to hook up with a dead ‘ Clients,’ wife. His cock hard. That pussy wanting him. Before knew it. He was kissing her fondling her. Removing her straps unzipping her dress. Her dead husband inches away. It felt so erotic. He couldn’t contain himself. He groped he fondled her dress on the floor. She stood bra, knickers, stockings.
Before long his cock was out. She was on her knees her mouth around it sucking. He stood his hand on the edge of the casket looking down at him as he lay there the grieving widow sucking his cock.
She stood kissing him he squeezed her breasts sliding his hand behind her back unclipping her bra. Her breasts falling out. She pulled him to the couch sitting removing her stockings and knickers. She pulled his head between her legs he ate her pussy out. His tongue exploring her love tunnel. She groaned as he pleasured her.
He looked up at the ceiling at the light. His eyes opened. He heard the trees blowing in the breeze.
” Shit ” he said as he woke sitting up in bed. He looked at the clock 4 am. Shit a dream. It was a fuckin dream. He seemed so disappointed. But it seemed so real. He was about to fuck the grieving widow.
6Am he got up. The Emmet funeral today.
9Am he arrived at the funeral home doing his final checks. He looked at Mr Emmet there as he lay in peace.
Patricia arrived at 10 am with her children. They stood with their husband and father talking and sharing a few stories.
Brian couldn’t help but admire Patricia in a sexual way. Her sleeveless black round neck dress, black stockings and heels. Her dark hair up in a bun.
” Will miss you darling ” she said touching his face. ” Wont miss that moustache though, oh I hate that moustache.
Brian coughed, he had dream that she hated it.
The funeral.
Brian carried out his duties professionally, thinking how he would like to console the grieving widow.
A young lady hugged Patricia. He found our it was Brian’s Personal Assistant.
” So sorry. ” She said to Patricia. ” Your husband was a wonderful man. Patricia not k owing it was the girl fucking her husband.