The Story of a Civil War Widow

This is a much longer story than I usually submit.

The story is fiction and involves incestual relationships. All characters involved in sex acts are eighteen or older.

I make no claims to the story being historically correct, although I did try to keep it so when possible. I did not, however, try to make the dialog correct for that period.

*

Jim marched off to war and never returned. He went to fight the rebels with one of his state regiments. Many of the young men from his area went. Few of them returned whole; most of them not at all.

The regiment was chewed up in a terrible battle. Jim's company was in the center of it. The unit was composed of men from his city and the surrounding farms.

Jim left a young widow, Margaret, and a young son, Jason. Margaret was within a month of her twenty-first birthday. Jason was two. He too would have a birthday soon. Margaret's father had died the year before. It was a terrible blow to her that she had lost her husband too.

There were many widows in that city after the battle. A generation of men from the area had been wiped out. Margaret, like many other women, persevered. With help from her mother and in-laws, plus a widow's pension from the government, she was able to maintain a reasonably comfortable lifestyle. Both she and her husband had come from well-to-do, but not wealthy, families.

Her in-laws owned the house she and Jim had lived in. It was right next to theirs and not far from the home of her parents. It was a little small, but sufficient for her and her son. Margaret's mother-in-law was a great help with Jason and the young boy developed a close bond with his 'Gramma'. Margaret too became close to her in-laws. Especially to her mother-in-law, Lydia.

Margaret's mother Beatrice was also supportive. She was very friendly with Lydia and Jason loved her as much as his other Gramma.

Margaret attended church regularly. Often with her mother, or her husband's parents. It was through the church that she met other war widows. Many of them with children. They soon started to meet at each other's homes and formed a tightknit, but informal group.

There were few men available for the widows to marry; if they were inclined to remarry. Most of the few men, of their age range, left in the town were those who had shirked their duty. Thus they were abhorrent to Margaret and almost all of the other ladies in the group.

Any woman who did marry one of these shirkers would be ostracized by almost all of the women in the town.

There were other men who had been unable to enlist because of physical defects. Often not more than a limp that precluded marching. There were more such defects in those days. These men were more acceptable to the widows and many of them found themselves with wives. Indeed the loss of so many of their fellow citizens opened up opportunities for them. They found themselves needed and many rose to the occasion. Veterans, too, were available for marriage. Although many of them had been wounded and often were missing limbs. Many of those not already married found spouses.

Margaret was not one of those who seriously contemplated remarriage. She had loved her husband and wanted to devote her life to raising their son.

A point we should make. Although Margaret should not be considered rich she was well-to-do. Many of the widows were from the poorer families of the area. These women often had to work to supplement their pension. Margaret was fortunate that she had sufficient income to provide for herself and Jason. She did not have enough money to hire a maid, except for an occasional cleaning woman for a day or two.

In the Victorian era women were not expected to feel lust. Even worse masturbation, by either gender, was considered degenerate. Male homosexual behavior was roundly condemned. At least in public. Lesbianism wasn't even considered. It was not even thought of as ever likely to happen. Again, at least in public. Some things were just not discussed.

Horniness in women was termed 'hysteria'. Doctors treated women experiencing such attacks by massaging their clitoris until they experienced a paroxysm, their term for an orgasm. The sexually inhibited women could not even think of taking care of this problem themselves.

Margaret had been brought up to be a proper lady. She had been reasonably content in her married life. She loved her husband and the birth of Jason had been a great joy for both of them.

Margaret believed that she had a duty to provide her husband with sex. She enjoyed it somewhat. At least she didn't hate it. Margaret liked to feel her husband's body next to hers. She would never have said so to anyone, but she enjoyed the feeling of fullness she experienced when he slid his cock into her pussy.

But Margaret had never experienced an orgasm.

Just after the war ended Jim's father died suddenly. It was a blow to Lydia and Margaret did her best to comfort her. Margaret's mother, Beatrice, also supported her. Beatrice and Lydia had always been friends, but they became closer after the death of Lydia's husband.

The informal association of widows continued. They met weekly at different women's homes. Attendance varied, sometimes as many as twenty women might be present; or as few as seven or eight. The women did develop bonds as people with similar problems tend to do. Once Jason started school Margaret was able to attend more often.

Their children, of course, were one of the main topics of conversation. After a couple of years their personal needs were sometimes alluded to, always in an indirect manner. Veiled hints were made of one's desire. Margaret never took part in such conversations, but she listened. She often felt empty after hearing such talk and would feel a wetness 'down there'. She never mentioned these reactions to anyone. Indeed she felt shame that she was so affected.

Margaret was starting to hear the occasional reference to hysteria treatments. She was well aware of what they were about. In fact Lydia suffered frequent spells of female hysteria, especially since the death of her husband. She often had to visit her doctor for relief. Beatrice, less often, suffered from hysteria too. Strangely it was accepted by society as a typical weakness of the fair sex.

It was after a rather large gathering of the widow's group that Margaret returned home to find a small dog-eared book in her reticule. It was titled Joy for Ladies. Margaret had no idea where it had come from, but obviously someone had slipped it into her bag. That wouldn't have been hard to do. The women usually left their bags on a table near the front door of whatever home they were visiting. Any one of the ladies present could have put it there.

As it happened it was one of the times that Margaret was feeling slight distress 'down there'. It was enough to get her to start reading. Both repulsed and fascinated Margaret found herself turning the pages and absorbing the books message. She had skimmed over the preface, read the first chapter and started the second when Jason got home from school. Margaret put the book away in her bedroom. She was undecided about reading it further.

The book was written, supposedly, by a woman. It started by discussing masturbation for women and the joy of paroxysm. Its central point, stated quite plainly, was that women deserved the pleasures of love. The author derided women who had their hysteria treated by doctors. She advocated the use of dildos and massage of the clitoris.

The book described dildos and alternates; cucumbers and darning eggs were mentioned as well as several other common household items, such things as hairbrush handles. One's own fingers inserted into the vagina were also recommended. She gave several examples of how to use some of the things mentioned. The point the author was making was that there was no limit to the number of things that might be used for self-pleasure.

Margaret felt herself blushing with embarrassment. To even read such a book was probably immoral. She put the book down, but she could not deny the empty feeling in her body, 'down there'.

Margaret had to get dinner for Jason. After the meal she and Jason visited his 'Gramma'. Lydia was a little out of sorts. Margaret recognized the symptoms. She knew that it wouldn't be long before Lydia would visit the doctor for a hysteria treatment. Margaret wondered to herself if she should get a treatment too; perhaps it would help to cope with that empty feeling. She kept silent, though. Since she had never experienced an orgasm she knew very little about paroxysm. She had only ever heard references to it. After all it was not a subject one discussed with others. Most of what she did know she had just read in the little book.

Margaret and Jason returned home at dusk. She and Jason read by lamplight for an hour, she was reading a novel, not the new little book. She sent Jason to bed earlier than usual.

With Jason safe in his bedroom she retrieved the book again. She felt a little shamed that she did not have the strength to resist its suggestive message. She reread the preface. There the author told of her own doubts and fears. How she too thought she was a wanton for even thinking such thoughts. She told how she had found that women were more than receptacles for their husband's seed. She described her encounters with other women who had learned differently and how they had taught each other how to enjoy the pleasure of their bodies. Her last line in the preface spoke volumes. Your husband, if you have one, need never know. It can be your secret.

Margaret skipped to the chapter about pleasing oneself. She read, again, about using a cucumber to fill the void in her lower body. She felt her nipples firming and a dampness at her female parts. There were cucumbers in the ice box. Her mind kept returning to them. She wasn't seeing a cucumber in her mind's eye. She wasn't seeing anything. She was feeling, feeling a hard member against the walls of her pussy.

Her female parts were no longer that in her mind. They had become, if the book was true, a place of pleasure. The cucumber an organ to fill her and bring her that pleasure.

Her thoughts troubled her. They went far beyond anything she had ever considered ladylike. They frightened her, and yet they took control of her. She went to the kitchen and took a cucumber from the icebox, then she took another a little bigger. With her cucumbers and book in hand she went to her bedroom.

She undressed quickly and put on a simple nightgown. She never wore fancy nightwear any more. Not since she had lost Jim. It was Jim who had made her feel pleasantly full in her pussy. (We'll call it that, and other names, for simplicity.)

She tweaked her nipples, to start, and fondled her breasts. The book had suggested it. She nestled the smaller cucumber between her breasts to warm it. The book had suggested that too. Her fingers played at her pussy. She felt the moisture on its lips. Without conscious thought she slipped a finger into herself and felt her clit. Her touch to that hard little nubbin caused more inhibitions to fall as her body became aroused. She slid the cucumber into herself with a satisfied sigh. It had been so long.

She lay still and savored the sensual feeling of a full pussy. Her finger idly rubbed her clit. Following the directions in the book she began to pump the prick-like cucumber into her pussy. She closed her eyes and felt Jim on top of her. She knew he was there, that he loved her wherever he was. She knew, too, that if she opened her eyes he would be gone.

She rubbed her clit with one hand while she used the other to fuck herself. The last of her inhibitions fell away and lust took over her body. She wanted to cry out her joy, but she could not. Jason slept in the next room.

She could feel the impending organism building. A strange sensation to her, almost frightening. It held back, there were barriers to break down. Margaret continued. She was experiencing things she had never felt before. She did not know she had never cum.

When the orgasm hit it tore through her body thrilling her every cell, overpowering her with its force, filling her mind and body with rapture. Her hands fell away from her pussy. She lay sated, savoring the first orgasm of her life. At the age of twenty-six she learned that there was pleasure in sex.

She slept well that night and left the cucumber in her pussy. She relished the feeling of it filling her. She woke relaxed and rested. She removed the, now limp, cucumber. She silently thanked the author of the book and whoever had slipped it into her reticule. She felt more alive than she had in years. She understood now why so many women, like Lydia, visited the doctor for hysteria treatments. What she did not understand, not after her experience the night before, was why they needed a doctor to bring them to paroxysm.

She got Jason off to school, and quickly finished her chores. She wanted to read more. She retrieved the book and the cucumbers from her bedroom. She threw away the used one, it had served its purpose. She would try the bigger one next time. She laughed then, happily. Obviously she had taken a big step, there would certainly be a next time. Many more times. Still in her dressing gown she sat down to read.

She reread the masturbation section first and picked up some tips she had missed. She wanted to know everything about it. She felt herself becoming aroused and went upstairs to her bedroom to masturbate again. It was another thrilling experience, but it did leave her clit a bit sore. She would have to bring some oil up to the room she thought.

She stayed in her room to read further. Next was a section on strap-ons, to be used by one woman to satisfy another. The book's author called them contrivances. That chapter led to several chapters about woman on woman sex. Not only would women use dildos on each other they would actually put their mouths on each other's private parts.

Margaret closed the book in disgust. How could any decent person even think of such things? She put the book away in her dresser. Even so, she masturbated once again that day. She had looked over the house searching for items that might serve as dildos. She found several, but in the end decided on the larger cucumber. Lying on the bed, clothed in a light shift, she warmed it between her breasts. She put a drop of oil on her clit and filled her pussy with the cucumber.

Once again her body sang with the ecstasy of orgasm. She felt totally relaxed afterward. Gone was any trace of shame for her acts. She was filled with delight at her new found pleasure.

When Jason got home from school Margaret was up and dressed. She would be careful that Jason didn't catch her at her new pastime. The next day was Saturday. Jason would be home all day. She would have to put off pleasing herself until bedtime.

Margaret with Jason in tow joined Lydia to go downtown for Saturday shopping. It wasn't far and they carried shopping baskets. They met several other women and chatted with them. In fact their shopping trips were partly social events.

Back home they stayed at Lydia's house for a cool drink. Lydia mentioned that she would be visiting the doctor the following week. She asked Margaret if she would go with her.

The following day, Sunday, Margaret dressed carefully. She made sure Jason was presentable too. Once again she joined Lydia and walked the short distance to the church. They met Beatrice there.

One would think that Margaret's conscience would be bothering her. No such thing. She spent the time at the services looking for other women from her widow's group. She wondered if any of them had been the one who had slipped the little book into her handbag. Or, if any of them had read it before her. It was obvious that it had passed through other hands before she got it. Maybe many other hands.

She prayed, too. Prayed that the lord would lead her onto the right path. That she would do what his will was for her. After all, she thought. You took my husband. What would you have me do now?

Margaret, Beatrice and Lydia spent the afternoon together preparing their Sunday dinner. Jason had been chased outside to play, after he had changed out of his good clothes.

Margaret was tempted to bring up her solution to hysteria to the older women, but decided not to just yet. Dinner went well and Margaret left after helping clean up. She was anxious to get home. Home to her pleasures.

Monday it was back to school for Jason. Margaret masturbated as soon as he was out the door and on his way. The thought of dildos, made for the purpose of satisfaction, were in her mind. As she was cumming a vision of a strap on popped into her mind. She longed for the feel of a body on hers as her pussy was filled. It was how her husband had felt when making love with her.

She was drawn back to the book, against her will she took it from the drawer where she had hidden it. Back to the chapter about strap ons. She read on, she couldn't help herself, about the joy a woman could feel while being fucked by another. The book didn't use the word fuck, nor did Margaret. She had never heard that word.

She couldn't bring herself to read the next chapter, the one about love between women. She skipped ahead to the ending of the book, the final chapter. It was there she found the note.

We hope you have found this book as helpful to you as it was for us.

We can help each other, in many ways.

If you have an interest say these words to the group where you were given the book.

"I miss my husband a great deal, more than I can say."

Someone will contact you within a few days.

You will not regret taking this step.

The note appeared to be feminine handwriting, but Margaret did not recognize the script. Wednesday would be the next time the widows got together. Her first instinct was to ignore the invitation. She put the book away again and started to do housework.

Margaret threw herself into her work. She tried to put the book, masturbation, strap ons and everything connected with sex out of her mind. She could put those thoughts away, but they wouldn't stay away. She could feel heat building in her body and wetness developing in her pussy. Today we would say she was horny.

Margaret had discovered orgasms. It was that simple. She was unable to deny herself the new joy she had discovered. She dug the book out again. She sat in her bedroom, on a chair near the window. She, almost unconsciously, pulled her dress up above her knees. Her hand drifted under the skirt, to her pussy, as she read. She soon realized that she needed more hands, or a place to set the book, if she wanted to masturbate while reading. She went downstairs and sat at the kitchen table. She decided to let the book fall open randomly. Of course books have a tendency to fall open to the part that is most read. It opened to the chapter about love between women. Despite her prior disgust Margaret was determined to follow the sign she had received. She had, after all, prayed for guidance. She took a deep breath and began to read the chapter. Perhaps, she thought, it was the almighty guiding her life.

Women's drawers in those day consisted of two separate legs joined at the waist. So when Margaret pulled her gown up above her knees she had easy access to her already wet pussy.

She masturbated with one hand and turned the pages of the book with the other. She was soon gasping and imagining another body close to her, holding her, flesh to flesh. The gender of the other wasn't obvious. She could feel kisses on her lips, on her breasts.

Fingers in her tunnel, on her clit. She brought herself to a gasping, shuddering orgasm. The body close to her faded away, but slowly. She pushed her gown back over her knees. She laid her head on the table and tried to think.