Ron Evans

Naughty young widow

CHAPTER ONE

Babs Foster was feeling particularly horny that day, so she dressed up in the briefest, tightest outfit she owned and walked the three blocks to the nearby shopping center. And she was indeed shopping, she told herself with a giggle. Shopping for a big hard cock!

At twenty-three, Babs was young to be a widow, but she'd married young and had had several happy years before her husband's sudden death in a plane crash three months before. She had invested his insurance money and it was now paying back a steady income. It wasn't a fortune, but it allowed her to live in a nice apartment, dress and eat well and spend her time as she wished without the necessity of taking a job.

As she left her apartment building and strolled down the street, she felt the thin fabric in the crotch of her shorts pulling in tightly against her moist young pussy mound, the seat of her shorts, she knew, was stretched taut over the rounded cheeks of her flaring asscheeks and the leg holes were snug around the tops of her long, shapely thighs. As she moved, her big, mouth-watering titty mounds jiggled around firmly inside her brief halter top. Her rose-colored nipples were stiff and pointy against the material.

By mid-morning, she had been at the shopping center for almost three hours, browsing through one shop after another. A lot of men had stopped to stare after her as she walked by, but so far no one had made a move. The constant feel of masculine eyes upon her had been exciting enough to make her horny cunt slit drool onto the front of her shorts, and she was getting impatient for someone to approach her and try out his line.

Finally, as she was standing at the counter of the mall's snack bar sipping a Coke, she became aware that one of the men at the counter was staring openly at her. He was just the type she'd been looking for. Tall, good-looking, in his mid-thirties, with wide shoulders and curly black hair. And more to the point, he had a very sizeable cock bulge in the front of his pants.

He realized that he'd been caught ogling her and grinned warmly. "When I first saw you, I thought you looked exactly like my sister," he said, moving closer to her. "But then I remembered I'm an only child. So I guess it must've been someone else's sister."

Babs giggled and said, "Or you're someone else's brother."

He moved even closer and introduced himself. "My name's Cal Harmon. And I just bet a beautiful girl like you has a beautiful name to match. Am I right?"

"How's Babs Foster?" she asked.

He pretended to consider it for a second. "Yes. I like it. It tits you. Well, Babs Foster, do you live around here?"