Smutty One-Shots

After Him (A Widow's Second Chance At Life)

(Hey Guys this is a chapter from my new book called "Stories From The Deepest corners Of My Mind"  that I have started writing. It is going to have short stories just like my previous books. But more plot and less smut.

It will be entirely on Stck.me however not all chapters will be paid. Many will be FREE. 

If you love to read short stories that make you smile, giggle, cry, scratch your brain, think, and question why things are the way they are. this might be the book for you. Of course, my stories will have at least some sumt.)

This is just the first chapter of a story from my new book. Hope you will enjoy it and check out my book too. 

Also I am on Instagram. Link in Bio. 

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He died. It was a car accident they said. Drunk Driving and apparently, he was the drunk driver. He crashed into a car, killing a young couple in that car along with him. It was his fault, they said.

I did not feel bad, or the loss of him. Rather I felt deeply for the couple who lost their life because of his recklessness. They must have so much in their life to live for.

He was dead the moment the impact happened, and not because of the effect, but due to cardiac arrest. He was scared for the last few moments of his life when his car went out of control, which triggered the heart attack they said. He was such a coward anyway.

I married him because my dad had chosen him for me. He was well-educated, and belonged to a reputed and well-off family. Looked good, what more could a girl ask for? Those were the words of my father when he told me I was being married off to him.

I did not object, I never objected to my father. Not when he forced me to marry him and not when he refused to let me come back home after his death. I was no longer my father's responsibility. I was the responsibility of my husband, dead or alive. These were my father's words when he shut the door to my own home in my face.

Since the day I married him, I knew my life was hell. It wasn't much better back home. But at least there I had my sisters and my mother.

Here my mother-in-law was a horrible wench who never wanted me to marry her precious son. No woman was good enough for him according to her. But she never batted an eye when he brought home strippers and prostitutes to fuck. Despite having a wife in that very home.

I was secretly grateful that he never came to me asking for sex. He avoided me like the plague and I preferred it. He too was forced by his father to marry me as I was a simple, girl for a simple background, raised modestly. Basically, a woman they could mold according to their will a woman who had no opinions and who could easily be manipulated.

On our wedding night, we did it, he did not even bother to undress me properly. He lifted my skirt, pushed himself into me without any warning, fucked me for a couple of minutes, while tears flowed down my cheeks. He emptied himself in me and then left.

I was no fun according to him as I lay there silent beneath him. So, he never came to me again. At least that was a relief.

But my mother-in-law taunted me she called me an idiot and useless. My father-in-law did not care as long as we produced an heir to his company.

It was suffocating to live there. I had no freedom, even though I was surrounded by wealth I had hardly any access to money.

I vividly remember hearing the high-pitched cries of my mother-in-law that night. I was almost half asleep after reading my book when I heard it. As usual, I never waited for him to return as I know he must be busy with some new chick. I ran out of my room and downstairs. And saw my father-in-law holding her upright. She looked like a mess and two cops were standing in front of them telling them something.