My husband died in my arms early in 1969. He was thirty-one years old and I was a devastated eighteen-year-old.
Edward's parents were every bit as wonderful as he was and did everything they could to help. They even offered, without being the least bit pushy, to take my step-children. This made perfect sense. They loved me, but they had known their grandparents all their lives. They would have a stable home, something I could not promise, and they would not have the stigma of a mommy who had sex with women. We decided my son Chris should stay with them, too. We made the right decision.
Meanwhile, my mother, whom I had not seen for ten years, invited me to live with her in London for a while. She was having the house repaired and decorated, so Brenda and Candy offered me a room until it was time to leave. They were amongst the very dear friends, mostly gay and lesbian, who kept me safe before Edward proposed to me.
Hollywood was a homosexual with a large house. He rented rooms to gay men and his coach house to a lesbian couple. He and his tenants often looked after me when I was younger. Of course, I spent a couple of nights at Hollywood's. The first night Hollywood and I talked and cuddled until dawn.
The second night I spent with Frank. Frank had had two less than satisfactory experiences with girls. He said if I was willing he would like his third and final experience with a girl to be with one he loved. Frank was a beautiful black man who once beat the crap out of a jerk who wouldn't take no for an answer and was trying to drag me into his car. See, I said my friends looked after me. Anything I could do to repay Frank was fine by me, and I figured sex would have the added benefit of comforting me.
Before my date with Frank, I spent two hours with Olivia, a drag queen entertainer. She did my hair and makeup and tried almost every stitch of clothing on me until she felt I looked perfect. I had to admit as I looked at myself in her mirrors, I looked pretty good.
Next stop was the coach house where Ronnie and Jessica lived. When Ronnie showed me her toy collection I gasped. Some of them were huge! "You would terrify Frank with one of those," she said and picked out a harness and medium dildo.
Frank was just over six feet tall and very fit, weighing in at about one-eighty. I slowly removed his clothes, kissing the exposed bits as I went. When I had him down to his boxer shorts I backed away and put Vanilla Fudge on the record player. What followed could only be called a slow striptease. Piece by piece I removed the layers Olivia had wrapped me in until I was down to very lacy yellow bra and panties.
I stepped up on tiptoes to kiss Frank on the mouth. He took the opportunity to relieve me of my bra. I felt something stirring in his shorts so, after I stepped out of my knickers, I knelt down to remove them. Underneath I found not the cudgel one hears about but a very respectable thick, eight-inch cock nearing full erection. I lead him by it to the bed and lay in the middle.
Frank lay beside me and took a nipple in his mouth. He rested a hand on my bush and pushed one and then two fingers in my hole and stroked me, making me very wet. He moved to my clit and barely touched it when I knew it was time. I said, "Please take me now."
Frank spread my legs and moved between them. He kissed me, then rested his head beside mine. Slowly he lowered his hips, pressing his prick into me. Even as wet as I was with my juices I was tight for Frank. He took his time though, working his cock back and forth, getting deeper a little at a time.
It wasn't long before a massive orgasm overtook me. "Edward," I screamed as I thrashed beneath Frank. Just then Frank exploded, gushing load after load of spunk in my greedy cunt.
As I came down from orbit I realised what I had done. "I am so sorry, Frank," I said. "That was very rude of me."
"Nonsense, Gracie," said Frank. "I'm honoured to be able to stand in for Edward. I know how much you miss him."
We lay there cuddling for a while, then I reached into my bag, saying "I have a treat for you."
As I pulled out Ronnie's strapon Frank said, "You don't have to do that, Grace. I am very satisfied."
"But I do," I responded. "You fucked me and I want to fuck you in return. Now lie on your back with some pillows under you and your knees up."
As Frank got ready I fumbled with the harness but eventually got it right. I had never seen one before. I soaked the dildo in my pussy, still full of Frank's semen and my juices. I fitted the well-lubricated dildo into the harness and moved between Frank's thighs.
I presented my cock to Frank's hole and slowly worked it in. We talked a little as I fucked him until I noticed a certain urgency in his breathing. Then I stepped up the pace, fucking him hard and fast. The strapon wasn't really doing anything for me, but oddly as Frank's orgasm approached, so did mine.
"Oh, Frank," I screamed as he came up his chest to his chin. He shot several ropes of cum onto his chest before we were done. I collapsed, spent, into the warm, sticky mess as though it was the most natural thing in the world to do.
We lay there briefly and then Frank rolled me off him. He removed the harness from me and headed with it to the bathroom, returning with a washcloth and a bowl of warm water. He licked our combined fluids from my bush and pussy like the perfect gentleman he was. I offered him my arse but he declined, saying he thought it imprudent to try to embellish perfection.
When I returned Olivia's clothes she presented me with a small case full of clothes so I could look my best for my sendoff. Ronnie and Jessica told me to keep the strapon, that no single girl should be without a toy.
Hollywood and I spoke on the phone at least once a year until he died a few years ago, aged eighty. He kept me up to date on my friends as best he could.
Frank was a very happy faggot. When he was dying of AIDS complications he said he had no regrets. He asked that I be thanked, "for one of the best nights of my life."
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