Sitting in the sun beside the pool, Karen pulled one foot up under her in her chair, spreading her knees wide apart, and my jaw almost dropped to the concrete deck. One edge of her swimming suit had slipped into the cleft of her cunt, and half her pussy was peeking out in a tangle of curly, brown pubic hair. Karen stretched and lifted her arms and fluffed out the damp hair on her head to catch the sun. Her tits flattened against her chest. Then she saw me staring. A puzzled look crossed her face. Then she looked down. And her reaction when she realized how exposed she was told me that I had a decision to make. I first met Karen the summer I turned twenty-six, at a time when I was convinced I had really fucked up my life. Back in the spring I had decided that a career in the military was not my style, and I had bravely given up the relative security of an Air Force job for the uncertainty of the real world. And now I had a real job in the real world, and I hated it. Ever since I discovered reading I had wanted to be a writer. I went into the Air Force right out of college as a public information specialist, and at least I got to write press releases once in a while. It wasn't much, but I was actually putting words into sentences and sentences into paragraphs and trying to convey something somebody thought was important to somebody else. But there were just too many somebodies. Channels, the military calls it. Everything goes through channels. And it just got to feeling way too constricting. People looking over your shoulder all the time, nervous because there were people looking over their shoulders too. Rules about this. Rules about that. Rules for the sake of rules. Rules that didn't make any sense. So I chucked it. Packed it in. Opted for freedom. Hah! I was working for a medium-sized ad agency in a medium-sized southern city. I didn't know anybody there; it was just where a job opened up. I wasn't doing any writing. My job was to take the words somebody else had written and wrap them around the graphics somebody else had designed. Layout, they called it. I had a small apartment that didn't cost very much. That was good, because I wasn't getting paid very much. My social life was practically non-existent. It was a cliquish kind of city and it didn't offer outsiders many opportunities. If you hadn't been born there, and your parents born there, and maybe their parents as well, then you just didn't count for much. But I have to give Kendall credit; he tried to break the pattern. He had done it for himself, and he tried to do it for me. Kendall Craig was my boss. Not my ultimate boss, just the guy who supervised the layout section. He was my age, but he hadn't taken a military detour. And everybody just assumed he was on a career fast track. Partly it was simply his physical appearance. Nature had blessed Kendall. He was tall and broad-shouldered, with blond hair and blue eyes. He had a square jaw and gleaming-white teeth that flashed when he smiled, which was often. He looked into your eyes when he talked to you, and his handshake was firm. He was the perfect picture of the Southern Establishment, destined for privilege from birth, and I hated him on sight. Except he wasn't exactly what he seemed. But it took me a little while to find that out. My first surprise was when he invited me to his place for a drink after work, just to welcome me to my new job. That didn't fit the aristocratic stereotype. His spacious apartment was immaculate. A frosty pitcher of martinis was ready, and there was an attractive array of snacks on the coffee table. And a woman was standing slightly behind him as he answered the door. "This is Karen," he said, "my wife." After all the things that happened after that, it's hard for me to remember my first impression of Karen. It must have been positive. Karen always looked good, and she often looked sexy in an innocent and unselfconscious kind of way. But I don't recall being overwhelmed the first time I saw her. That means she must have been wearing pants. If she had been wearing a skirt, I would certainly have been overwhelmed. When Karen wore a skirt she always wore a short skirt. And her legs were spectacular. How do you describe absolutely gorgeous legs? I don't know. I would have to have the eye of an artist and the voice of a poet to attempt it. But I don't, so maybe I can get at it by describing the effect her legs had on me. You know the whispering sound it makes when a woman in hose changes the position of her legs? The sound of nylon rubbing against nylon? Well, whenever I heard that sound from Karen, no matter what I was doing at the time, I immediately looked at her to see what her legs looked like in their new position. I couldn't help it; I was like Pavlov's dog. The view was invariably rewarding. When I first knew her, she always wore hose when she wore a skirt. I don't think she was fully aware of her own beauty then, but somehow she instinctively knew the line she couldn't cross without creating a reaction she didn't intend. Some women can go barelegged under a short skirt and not draw a second glance. Karen was not one of those women. Later on, of course, I did see her in a skirt without hose. The sight caused an immediate tingle in my trousers, and I had to stop and think about starting to breathe again. And, seeing how other men reacted, I knew I was not alone. That's the kind of legs she had. And that's why I'm sure she was wearing pants the first time I met her. She was probably also wearing a plain white blouse, carefully ironed and possibly starched. And she was certainly wearing a brassiere. She didn't always, later on, and I always noticed when she didn't. Karen's figure wasn't even close to voluptuous. She had modest curves, not assertive bulges. Except for one thing. Her nipples, even when she wasn't chilly or excited, stood out quite proudly. And a bra wasn't always enough to conceal them. Naked, even underneath a starched shirt, her nipples were unmistakable. So I'm sure she was wearing a bra that day. As for the rest... slim, medium-tall, pleasant but rather inexpressive face, short light-brown hair, very retiring manner. Come on, she was my boss's wife and I was new on the job. I couldn't exactly be obvious about checking her out, could I? Although now that I think about it, I do seem to have done a pretty good job that first day. I guess it was predictable that the conversation turned to shop talk. Kendall and I were talking about what made people buy things. We talked about keeping up with the Joneses, the theory of scarcity, and the herd instinct. And as we talked I realized that Karen wasn't saying anything. She was being left out. It didn't seem to trouble her; she seemed to be used to it. I turned to her and asked, "What do you think makes people behave the way they do?" She had intelligent eyes, I thought, and I really wanted to hear what she had to say. She looked a little flustered. She glanced at Kendall and then she looked at me and she said, "Well, I think maybe sometimes they're doing it to meet a genuine unmet need." "That's a very interesting observation," I said. Karen's eyes widened in surprise, and then a shy, pleased smile transformed her face. I think it was in that moment that I first fell under her spell. I think I saw something in her then that perhaps nobody else had ever seen. Kendall was waving his hands in dismissal. "You could never sell anything based on a theory like that," he said. "You'd never move enough product." Shy or not, Karen stuck to her guns. "Maybe you just haven't recognized a big enough unmet need," she said, and an expression that could have been sadness flickered across her face. "Kendall's probably right," I said. "You wouldn't get very far at an ad agency with a concept like that. But I like the idea, and I think you were clever to think of it." Karen smiled that luminous smile again and lowered her eyes. And something very strange was happening to me. As I told her I appreciated her idea, I felt a stirring in my loins, as if I had said something personal about her body instead of complimenting her mind. Oh God, I thought, I hope my dick didn't just make itself evident. When she lowered her eyes she was looking right at it. But Karen's expression didn't change. She still looked pleased. As time went by, I found myself seeing quite a lot of Kendall and Karen. Kendall liked to invite small groups of people from work over to his apartment to just sit around and drink and shoot the shit. Sometimes we'd watch sports on TV, and sometimes we'd play games. And sometimes we would just talk. It was usually a mixed group of guys and gals, some married but mostly not, since it seemed most of the married people had other things to do. And Kendall often behaved like one of the single people himself, sitting in the center of the group and batting ideas around, leaving Karen kind of isolated on the periphery, serving the drinks and snacks. I found myself frequently drifting out to the periphery to offer her some company. And my early perception of her was confirmed. She was brighter than she thought she was, and curious, and increasingly articulate as we got to know each other. As soon as Kendall got his first promotion, he had made her quit her job and stay at home, so she had lots of free time, and she was using it well. She didn't just sit around watching soap operas; she read and kept up with current events, trying to learn and grow. And I discovered she was aching to talk with someone about ideas. Kendall didn't invite her to participate in our group discussions, and she was too shy to insist, so she talked a lot to me. And I began to learn a lot about her. Karen had only a twelfth-grade education, and I think that made her feel inferior. She and Kendall had married just after their senior year in a small-town high school. Kendall went to college and joined a fraternity, using just his personal charm to get past the social barriers that stood in his way. Contrary to my first impression, he had no social credentials whatsoever. He was a small-town kid whose father ran a farm-implement store, and he was the first in his family to go to college. But when the fraternity accepted him, he had his toehold. He volunteered for every unpopular job and did all of them well. And lo and behold, by his senior year he was president of his fraternity. He had his social credentials now. Karen, meanwhile, was working as a clerk in a retail store, earning the income that let Kendall spend so much time on fraternity affairs. And as Kendall learned to glitter, Karen faded even more into the background. She didn't actually say that, of course, but that's what I came to understand as we talked. In one of the board games we sometimes played the objective was to take over the world. Kendall was very good at it. Karen was almost always the first to lose. One night when Kendall had a commanding lead he declared that there would be a prize for the winner. There were just four players... Kendall, Karen, me, and Will from the accounting department. Kendall announced that the winner's prize was... Karen. The conqueror of the world got a kiss from Karen. Karen wasn't consulted about this. By then I had the idea she was seldom consulted about anything. Will was wiped out soon after, and then Karen and I ganged up on Kendall. He found himself fighting a war on two fronts, and although our forces were individually inferior to his, Karen and I working together managed to chip away steadily at his advantage. Kendall's Stalingrad actually came at the hands of Karen's troops, and after that it was only a matter of time. He was eliminated from the game. And then suddenly Karen's defenses somehow collapsed, and I became the ruler of the world. "I guess you've earned your prize," Karen said, and she hopped into my lap and tilted her head to be kissed. I think nobody, maybe even including Karen, expected such a prompt fulfillment of the terms Kendall had set. But there she was, bouncing up against me, and my arms closed around her instinctively. Need I remind you that this was my boss's wife? Bewitched by her as I was by now, I had never touched her in a sexual way. But suddenly she was in my arms, waiting for my kiss, with her husband watching. And it was a situation that he himself had initiated. I could give her a peck on the lips and laugh it off. That would be the sensible thing to do. But I wasn't thinking very sensibly, sitting there with my arms around a warm and desirable woman who had come to mean something special to me. I probably wasn't thinking at all. But I was feeling. I was feeling her body as it pressed against me. I was feeling my dick hardening underneath her. I was feeling the heat that radiated from her. I was feeling the months of quiet talk and growing attraction. I kissed her. I kissed her thoroughly, giving her my full attention. It was not actually a lascivious kiss. This was no slobbering, open-mouthed, tongue-tangling gymnastic exhibition. Our lips were closed, but they were soft and sensitive and sincere. It was a concentrated kiss. I don't know about her, but I was concentrating so hard that I completely forgot that her husband and the accountant from down the hall were watching, and I was not aware until it was over that her breasts were mashed against my chest and my hands were stroking her hair and grasping her waist and her hands were caressing my back and her body was gently rocking against my lap. "Uh-huh!" she said, as we broke our clinch. "Hah-hah! Well, uh..." And she sprang up out of my lap. "Oh, hah!" I said. "Hah-hah! Hah! Well." "Now that's the way to celebrate a victory," Kendall said, laughing as he clapped me on the back. And he clapped Karen on the butt. Karen hung her head in what I could have interpreted as shame. But her eyes flashed up to catch mine just once, and the look in her eyes was hard to read, but for sure it wasn't shame. None of us referred to that night in the weeks and months that followed. We seemed to go on pretty much like we had before. 'The Kiss,' as I had begun to enshrine it in my memory, might have been forgotten by everybody but me. It was spring. April. The cruelest month, somebody once said, talking about the painful awakening of new life after the death of winter, kind of like fingers recovering from frostbite. But my desire for Karen had never died; it survived the dead season more alive than ever, and just as frustrated. But some subtle new developments were beginning to sprout. I was still spending a lot of time with Kendall and Karen, but more and more often it was just the three of us. At first I just thought it was because the others were otherwise occupied. That was when the invitations were still coming from Kendall. But by now most of the invitations were coming from Karen. The Kiss had not been repeated. But there was a different feeling in my relationship with Karen. We looked at each other more, for one thing, making eye contact and holding the contact longer. And often when I wasn't looking into her eyes, I found myself looking at details of her body. She had almost no earlobes. Maybe that's why she had never pierced her ears and seldom wore earrings. There was just a hint of an upward tilt at the end of her nose. Her eyebrows came to a little peak near the outside of her eyes and then tapered down to a tiny point. Her face was a little too broad for perfect beauty, and her mouth was a little too small. There was a very slight scar on the left side of her pointed chin. She kept her fingernails trimmed short, and she didn't color them. She might have used a clear polish. Her wedding band was white gold, with an inlaid pattern in yellow gold. And Karen's behavior was different. She began to touch me sometimes as we talked... just little touches on my hand or my knee or my arm, to punctuate her conversation. Her conversation was getting more confident, and more wide-ranging. I took her seriously and complimented her often, and in talking with me she found an expressive capacity she never knew she had. It was about this time that she began to go without a bra sometimes. I remember the first time vividly. She was wearing a high-necked pullover that was cut short but very full, so that it dropped straight down to her waist from the two very obvious points of her tits. If I could have figured out a way to look up into that top from below, I could have seen the entire undersides of her naked breasts. But I had to content myself with an occasional tantalizing flash of bare flesh at her midriff. And on a warm Saturday in late April I saw her bare legs for the first time. Not in a skirt... she was wearing a pair of khaki shorts, rather short, but not scandalous, and a loose white cotton camp shirt. The top three buttons were unbuttoned. There was a generous lot of skin visible, but not a lot of cleavage. Karen didn't have a lot of cleavage. The outfit was really fairly modest, except for the staggering impact of those long, bare legs, but nevertheless this was a step over the line. And my reaction was evident, if anybody was looking. When she answered the door and I saw her for the first time dressed like that, my dick began to respond, completely out of control. I usually don't wear underwear when I wear jeans, and at that moment I regretted it. There was nothing but denim to contain the growing bulge in my crotch. I hadn't put on a display like this since the hormone- storms of junior high, and I simply wasn't prepared for it. When I finally finished my survey of her body from the top of her lovely head past the hints of her uninhibited tits and down along the amazing length of those mesmerizing bare legs to the toes at the tips of her dainty bare feet, I looked back up into her eyes with my dick straining against my pants and saw her looking back at me with a mischievous smile on her face. "Come in, Robert," she said as she swept her eyes down my body and then up to my eyes again. "It's nice to see you." And she winked. Karen had come a long way from the repressed, insecure, innocent and unselfconscious homebody I had first met. Today she certainly seemed conscious of the effect she was causing. And her reaction to my response certainly wasn't innocent. It's strange; I have no recollection at all of Kendall on that day. I know he was there. I presume most of my conversation was with him. But what I remember is Karen. That first moment at the door. And one moment later in the afternoon. It seemed frozen in time even then. She was serving drinks. And when she placed my drink on the coffee table in front of me, she leaned down and spent a long time placing the glass precisely in the center of the coaster on the table. And somehow the fourth button on her shirt had slipped loose. And as she leaned over the coffee table her bare left breast was totally revealed, but only from my point of view. It was a perfect little cone, with a long, rigid nipple standing out at the tip. The light coming from the living room window, filtered by the white cloth of her shirt, bathed her breast in a soft radiance and highlighted the fine golden hairs around her areola. I was transfixed, motionless, but my dick wasn't. It was leaping in my pants. Karen stood up and smiled that smile again. Turning away from Kendall, she secured her fourth button. I grabbed a newspaper from the table to cover my raging hard-on. "The newspaper has been covering some interesting items lately," Karen said, and she winked at me for the second time. And then she began to discuss some recently reported local scam involving driveways, asphalt, and little old ladies. I couldn't believe it. That display had been deliberate. Karen was flirting with me. Right in front of Kendall. I thought Karen and I had a special relationship, but up to now sex had not been a part of it. Well, there was The Kiss. And there was the fact that my body desired her intensely almost from the moment we met. There was that. But she was my boss's wife and my friend. Sex with Karen just wasn't part of the picture. But today, this seemed an awful lot like an invitation. What was going on? Maybe she was teasing me... just kidding. Thursday night several people from work gathered at Kendall's apartment. And, as on so many nights before, Karen and I ended up in quiet conversation a little outside the group. "You know, Robert, I don't know very much about sex," she said unexpectedly. Well, I guess maybe I should have expected it. After Saturday I should have known sex was bound to come up in our conversation. "Oh," I said cautiously. "And lately I've started to think maybe I'm missing something." "Really," I said. "It kind of started when you kissed me." "Well..." I said. "Yeah, I know it wasn't really your idea. But I got the idea you really liked it." "Well, yeah." "Me too. And I got this feeling. It was down there... you know? It was a wanting feeling, like... like I needed something but I didn't know what I needed. I mean you know Kendall and I... you know?" I didn't, exactly, but I said, "Yes." "When Kendall does it he just takes this stuff from a jar and smears it on his thing and rubs it with his hand until it gets hard and then he puts it in me and pumps it in and out a few times until he... until he's finished." "Uh." I didn't know what to say. This was really more than I thought I wanted to know. "And I see these magazines and things and I think there's got to be more to it than that." "Okay." "And sometimes I get these tingly feelings. And a kind of fluttering inside." She lowered her eyes. "Well, really, it's sometimes when I look at you. Since you kissed me, it's most of the time when I look at you." Even though she was blushing a bit, she raised her eyes again to meet mine. "But even before," she said, "you thought I was somebody." This at least I could deal with. "Of course you are," I said honestly. "You're very special." "But see, nobody else ever thought that. Kendall always tells people I was a cheerleader. Maybe he even believes it by now. But I wasn't a cheerleader. I was only on the pep squad. Anybody could be on the pep squad. I wasn't special. I wasn't even very good. But Kendall noticed me. I don't know why. And you know Kendall. How could anybody not fall for Kendall? And there's never been anybody else for me. Never before. Never since." "Uh, good," I said. "I'm not so sure," she said thoughtfully. "There's so much I think I don't know." Not sure I was ready to hear the answer I asked, "Like what?" "How big is your thing?" she said suddenly, fixing her bright eyes on mine. "Huh?" "How big is your thing? It looked really big in your pants the other day." "Well..." "See, I don't know about things like that. I've never seen anyone but Kendall, and he never let me measure it." "So, what, you think I sit around with a hard-on and a ruler in my hand?" I immediately regretted my response. It was dishonest. Of course I did. Didn't you? "I'm sorry," she said. "I'm just curious." "Six-and-a-half inches," I said. "Oh!" she said. "Is that big?" "I don't know. Depends on what your standards are. But I don't think so. Does it matter?" "I'm just trying to learn," she said. "I don't know." I was really uncomfortable with this conversation. I didn't know what it was really about, and I didn't know where it was headed. So I just addressed the obvious question. "Look, I've got this book at home," I said. "It's called 'Everything You Always Wanted to Know About Sex.' I'll be home for lunch around twelve-thirty tomorrow. Why don't you come by and pick it up?" And she did. I was sort of hoping the book would put a stop to her questions. And I was sort of hoping it wouldn't. Talking with Karen about sex was uncomfortable, but it was uncomfortable in a thrilling kind of way. It made me think about possibilities I shouldn't be thinking about. Saturday was the first really warm day of the year. Karen called and invited me to come try the swimming pool and stay for hamburgers from the outdoor grill. My imagination immediately went into overdrive. Karen in a swimming suit! Oh my God! I wore a jock strap under my jeans. Karen's suit was a bright yellow one-piece, and it looked brand-new. It was rather modestly cut except at the bottom, where the sides were cut high, almost to her waist, drawing attention to her marvelous legs, emphasizing where no emphasis was needed. It was a racing-style suit with no built-in bra; just a single layer of stretchy fabric that molded itself to her everywhere. Her small, shapely tits needed no support, and her nipples were on proud display. I changed into my trunks, glad I had thought to wear the jock strap. I was going to need it more for restraint than support. We tried the pool, and it was a little too chilly still, so we climbed out after only a few minutes. I thought Karen's nipples had been standing out before, but the effect of the chilly water was amazing. And the water had turned her suit semi-transparent. I could see the color of her taut nipples, and the shadow of her bush below. Karen caught me looking, and she smiled. We sat around soaking up the sun and drying off. We were talking comfortably and sipping beer. Kendall eventually wandered off to light the charcoal. I thought I had myself fully under control. Then Karen pulled one foot up under her in her chair, spreading her knees wide apart, and one edge of her swimming suit slipped into the cleft of her cunt, and half her pussy was peeking out in a tangle of curly, brown pubic hair. I was sitting directly in front of her, and I had an exclusive and unobstructed view. Karen stretched up her arms and fluffed out her damp hair in the sun. Her tits flattened against her chest. Then she saw me staring. A puzzled look crossed her face. Then she looked down. It couldn't have been deliberate. I mean, how could a woman make her pussy pop out of her swimming suit? She would have to reach down and pull it aside, wouldn't she? This must have just sort of... happened. But when Karen realized her exposure, she didn't change her position. Instead, she lifted her head and looked directly into my eyes. Her expression was enigmatic. It wasn't flirtatious, exactly. It was more like a challenge. It was like her eyes were saying, you want me? So what are you going to do about it? Then she smiled and shrugged her shoulders. And only then did she reach down and adjust her suit. She wasn't kidding. Unless I was reading the signs all wrong, Karen was sending a serious invitation for me to make a move on her. And what was I going to do about it? Three things happened very quickly that helped bring the situation to a crisis. Kendall was promoted to account executive, a move everybody had expected for a long time. I was promoted to Kendall's old job, a move I for one had not expected. But it meant Kendall was no longer my boss. And Kendall was sent away to Northwestern University for a two- week seminar. Kendall's plane was barely in the air on that Monday in May when Karen called me. "There's something I need you to help me with," she said. "Can you come by tonight? After eight?" "Sure," I said. "Great," she said. "And Robert... take a taxi." "Okay." "Bye." "Bye." Take a taxi? I always drove to their apartment and parked in the visitor section. Nobody would notice; it wasn't unusual. Unless I stayed parked there overnight. The neighbors might notice that. I took a taxi, and I even told the driver to stop at the apartment complex next door. I walked to their apartment and rang the bell. When Karen opened the door she was wearing a long, gauzy gown and nothing else. Candles lighted the room. There was soft music. "Karen," I gasped. "Close the door, Robert." I closed the door. Karen unfastened something at her throat and the gown dropped to the carpet. Karen stood there a little stiffly, her chin up, her shoulders back, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides. Her swimming suit hadn't left much mystery about the shape of her body, but now, standing naked, the candles casting flickering golden patterns on her pale skin, she was a breathtaking revelation. "My God, Karen, you're lovely!" "I've been reading the book you gave me. It's not enough. I want you to teach me about sex." I was drinking in the sight of her. The intricate web of blue veins under her alabaster skin. The delicate architecture of her shoulders and her collarbones. The small miracles that were her breasts. Her narrow waist and her softly rounded belly and her gently swelling hips and her impossibly long legs. Her slim bare feet, the toes twitching in sympathy with her fingers. And she was offering all of this to me. So of course I picked up her gown, placed it gently on her shoulders, and turned away and walked out the door. That's what I had decided I would do. I had pretty much figured out what to expect. And I was going to be sensible. Karen was a married woman and my friend, and her husband was my friend. But it didn't happen. I didn't walk away. She was so vulnerable I just couldn't. "Are you sure?" I asked. "Robert, look at me. I'm naked. Does it look like I'm not sure?" And so I took her in my arms. The touch of her skin was electric. It sent tremors through us both. I kissed her. She kissed back. And all the repressed sexuality between us was released in that kiss. And when it ended the universe had changed. The connection between us seemed complete now, and only the two of us mattered. For the moment, everything was just right. And there was no hurry as we both removed my clothes. There were candles in the bedroom too. Sitting on the side of the bed, we kissed again. "I feel happiness inside me, Robert. It's filling me up so full that it's stretching my skin. And everywhere you touch me I feel it ten times more." "Lie down," I said. "I want to touch you all over." She lay down on her back, her hands clasped above her head, making her whole body available to me. I gently unclasped her hands and turned them palm-up on the pillow. I placed my fingertips in the center of one of her palms, and I slowly stroked her skin from her palm down to the inside of her elbow. She quivered. "I don't know what's happening," she said. "That felt like you were touching me inside my vagina." I touched her lips with a fingertip. "We'll get there," I said. "There's no hurry." Gently I caressed her lips, stroking her hair with my other hand. And then I traced her eyebrows and touched her temples and held her face between my hands. "I want this to take a long time." I kissed her again, and this time her lips parted. She gasped as our tongues touched. I was struggling to control the urgency of my own desire. I had wanted this for so long. And it was hard not to want it all right now. But I knew what Karen needed. I took her hand and kissed her fingertips. I took her fingers into my mouth one by one and caressed them with my tongue. I kissed her palm, and the inside of her wrist. She was breathing heavily already. Slowly I kissed my way to her torso. I kissed her armpit and breathed the subtle odor of her arousal. I closed my lips around her collarbone and touched the little bump in the middle with my tongue. Her perfectly formed little breasts were rising and falling with her breaths, and her nipples were fully erect. They weren't really much longer than usual, but they were hard when they poked into my palms like firm little fingers when I filled my hands with her tits. "You have beautiful breasts," I said. "Small," she murmured. "Perfect," I said. "Just right" I began to kiss them all over, avoiding the nipples at first. Her body began to squirm, and she started to make a little humming sound. I closed my lips around a nipple, and she cried out. "Oh, Robert! Oh!" I flicked her nipple with my tongue. She caught her breath. I moved to her other breast, and she moved her hands to my head, stroking my hair and holding my head to her chest. Gently I pulled away and kissed my way down her body, pausing to swirl my tongue around in her navel. Her abdomen was heaving a little now. "Robert, what's happening to me? I feel so strange." I put my hand on her belly, just above her mons, and began to stroke her gently. "How so?" I asked. "My... vagina," she said. "It's not really... itching; it's not burning. It's kind of like that though. And up inside me it's like I'm getting all fluttery. It's kind of a fluttering pressure inside my womb and I can't help moving my hips." Yes, her hips were moving now. And I could feel the fluttering under my hand. But did she really not understand what was happening? "Nobody has ever made me feel like this before," she said. Incredible, I thought. But maybe she was as ignorant as she sounded. Maybe Kendall just didn't have a clue. Or care. Her breaths were almost like gasps now. If she was this worked up already, I thought, what would happen when I touched her pussy? "Oh! Oh! Ohhh!" She choked back her cry, anxious not to get too loud. I stroked her pussy gently as she rocked it against my hand. She was moist and warm. "Oh, Robert, you're making me feel so good. Ohohhh! Mmmgh!" That's how she reacted when I started spreading some of her moisture around her clit. She was trying hard not to make noise. "Robert... could you... do you mind... would you show me cunnilingus?" Would I eat the pussy of this gorgeous, naÔve creature who had made me come in my dreams more than once these past several months? "With pleasure," I said. "But first I want to do something for me." I sat back on my heels between her knees and I put my hands on those incomparable legs. I let my fingers roam around on her thighs and her calves and her perfect knees, feeling the texture of her skin and the tightness of her muscles and the unique shape of her. "You don't know how much I've wanted to touch you like this. You have absolutely the most beautiful legs I have ever seen." She smiled. It was the same smile she smiled the first day I saw her. But then a shadow crossed her face. "Robert, do you think I might be one of those women like in the book... you know... frigid?" "Karen, I can almost guarantee you you're not frigid. What makes you think so?" "Because I never... I've never... I don't know what an orgasm feels like." No! Impossible! She was hot. She had calmed down a little, but I knew it would only take a few strokes on her pussy and she would be writhing on the bed again. She was certainly more sensitive than most women I'd touched. It was unforgivable if she had never climaxed. "Well, we will definitely have to do something about that." "Can we? Are you sure?" Tears were welling up in her soft brown eyes. I stroked my finger the length of her pussy, parting her lips as I went, and carrying the nectar of her sex up to bathe her clitoris. "Oh! Robert!" Leaning forward, I sucked her entire pussy into my mouth and caressed it lightly with my tongue. Her hips spasmed, heaving her pussy harder against me. Her knees came up and her delectable thighs pressed against my ears. "AhhhAHHH! Mmmmph." She was biting into a pillow to muffle her cries. I was paying close attention as I explored her pussy with my tongue, now licking, now probing, now flicking against her clit. I was using the responses of her body to guide me, trying to bring her right to the edge but not over. It went on for a long time. Her moans and muffled cries were constant now, and the muscles of her abdomen were rippling. It was time. I had told Karen six-and-a-half inches. But that was before I met her and wanted her and went to bed with her. Feeling her excitement had me so hard and stiff that I'm sure I was longer and thicker than ever before. I placed the tip of my dick against her pussy lips and paused, just to enjoy the heat that radiated from her steaming cunt. Teasing her, I slid up and down her slit a couple of times, gently brushing her clit with my velvety glans. "Robert don't... don't... tease me. Please. Come inside." And so I entered her in one smooth, slow, exquisitely lubricated motion. And that's all it took. All the preparation had Karen balanced on the edge, and as soon as I was fully inside her a huge shudder wracked her body, and then another, and then another. She had an awesome climax, quivering around me for what seemed like a couple of minutes, crying out against the pillow at first and then just gasping for breath in big grunts. And when she was finally still I kissed her and slowly pumped my dick out and back into her body. She shuddered again! This one didn't last as long, but it was evidently even more intense. When it was over she didn't move. I stroked her cheek. She didn't react. "Karen," I said. "Karen!" There was a pulsation under her closed eyelids, and then at last they fluttered open. Her eyes wandered back and forth, unfocussed. "Karen?" "Hmmm," she said. "Are you all right?" "Hmmm," she said. "Karen, are you okay?" "Robert?" "Yes Karen?" "I think I fainted. Was that an orgasm?" "Yes it was. More than one." "Oh, Robert!" Tears were in her eyes again. "Oh Robert why?" "Why?" Tears were running down her cheeks. "Why did I never feel like that before. Why did I never know I could feel like that before?" She was sobbing now, her chest heaving. "Karen, honey... please don't be sad." "I'm not sad, I'm happy," she sobbed. "I'm so happy. I can do it. I'm not frigid. I can do it!" "Karen, you do it better than just about anybody I ever knew or heard about. You were just incredible." "I was?" The corners of her mouth trembled, then curved up in a smile. "I was?" "The best," I said. "But Robert, did you... did you finish?" I was still hard inside her. I pumped my hips a little and leaned forward to rub against her clit with the base of my dick. "Not yet." "Oh!" she said. "Are you ready to try again?" She pumped her hips up against me. "Maybe I can help this time," she said. And she did. She was a little clumsy, but she did her best. And before long we had established a gentle mutual rhythm. I nearly came once while we were still a little out of synch, but I got past it and I was okay for a while. Karen was biting the pillow again, but she pulled it out of her mouth long enough to say, "Fuck me harder, Robert." She didn't learn that word from Dr. Reuben's book, I thought. I picked up the pace. "Harder!" So I stopped worrying about whether I would hurt her. I began to slam into her cunt as hard as I could, and I took her tits in my hands and kneaded them a little roughly. "Oh, yes!" she cried. This wasn't really my preference, but it was what she wanted right now. I grabbed her ass and lifted her up off the bed. My fingers were pulling the globes of her ass apart and I was spearing deeper than ever into her cunt. My balls were slapping wetly against her where the juices from her pussy had trickled down. "Unh! Unh! Unh!" she grunted into the pillow. Suddenly her legs parted even more and swept my arms aside. Her ass fell down against the mattress and then her legs came up and over my shoulders. That pulled her ass up again and I was even deeper inside her, humping against the mouth of her womb. My God, I was touching Karen's womb with my cock! The thought excited me so much that I began to come. I shot jet after jet of jism deep inside her. I was vaguely aware that she was coming again too. Her pussy was quivering around my cock, milking the fluid from it. I seemed to keep coming forever. I had wanted Karen for so long; I wanted to give her everything I had. And I did. When it was over I had nothing left. I must have been heavy, lying there listless and exhausted. But she didn't complain. Her lips were gentle against my neck and she was humming softly. "Mmmmm," she said. "What?" I said, recovering enough energy to lift a little of my weight off her. "I feel so good," she said. As I recovered myself, I was suddenly concerned. "No regrets?" I asked. "Why?" "Well, Kendall." "That's another life. Feeling guilty?" "Well..." "Don't. I don't. This is just us. Nobody else comes into it. Don't even think about anybody else. Just know this. That was absolutely the most incredible experience of my life!" I couldn't help laughing. "You thought you were frigid." She laughed right back at me. "I guess I was wrong, huh?" "Can I ask you something?" "What?" "How come... why... was this really your first orgasm?" "Yeah. How come? I don't know. My parents were really strict, you know? They never told me anything. And Kendall, Kendall was the boy I always thought I'd marry. Even when I was just a little kid. He was my boyfriend in the second grade. He didn't know it, but he was. I guess I was saving myself for him. And come to find out, he was saving himself for me. So neither one of us knew anything about anything. And I guess... maybe he just didn't want to find out." "You mean..." "He never asked me how I felt. I guess he never thought about it from my point of view. Sex was just for him. Like everything else." "Oh, Karen." "But you. You weren't like other guys. You looked at me like you wanted me, but you were nice about it. I wasn't used to that. And you talked like you wanted to talk with me. You listened. You don't know what that did to me." "But I never..." "Yeah, you never did. But you wanted to. I could tell you wanted to. I could feel you holding back. Don't you know how attractive that can be?" "I didn't intend..." "Didn't you? Are you sure? Because it was the only way that would have worked on me. Respect. Sincerity. Restraint. Are you sure you didn't plan this?" "Karen, I wanted you from the first day I saw you. I admit it. And maybe I did intend to make you want me. I tried to be respectful and talk to your mind. But when I did my body responded. I don't know; it sounded like respect but it felt to me like seduction." "So was it phony?" "No! It was real. The respect, the interest in what you think, the getting to know the whole you... that was all real!" "And the sex?" "The attraction? That was real too... from the very beginning." "Me too," she said. "What?" "Me too, from the very first day." "You mean?" "Yeah. The way you treated me. But I could tell you really wanted me. I saw it in your pants. And I wanted you to want me. I wanted you." "But you..." "It took you forever to notice. You didn't even notice when I kissed you." "I..." "You didn't! Kendall thought he was so smart. He didn't even remember that I suggested the prize. And he thought I lost all the time because I was stupid. I lost because I was expected to lose. I didn't mind. But I won that night. Yeah, I lost the game, but I won. I got what I wanted." "The Kiss?" "Yes, the kiss. I never kissed anybody like that. I put everything into that kiss." "Me too," I said. "I treasured that kiss. I just thought..." "What? That I was just kidding? That I didn't feel just as deeply as you did?" "I didn't know. I couldn't believe." "Do you believe now?" she asked, and she rocked her hips against me. "Oh, yes," I said, and I kissed her. And it was wonderful, and I was hers. Chapter II "I want to go away somewhere." Karen was snuggling against me, her naked skin thrilling me, arousing me, even though we had just finished making love. We had been living together for three days since that first night. We were together every moment when I wasn't at work. Karen had been insatiable. She had so much to learn. And I had been trying to teach her everything I knew. "Why?" I asked. "So we can go out together. As a couple. So we don't have to hide. So I can look sexy and make men look at me." "Oh, you're plenty sexy. And men look at you." "No they don't!" "Oh yes they do! Whenever you walk into a room all the men's eyes turn toward you." "They don't!" "Yes they do. You just don't notice." "They do?" "Just like you're a magnet." "Really?" she said slowly. "I wonder what it would be like if I really tried." "You'd have them falling at your feet and lapping at your toes." "Oh, Robert, you're kidding me. But I'd like to try it. I mean, I believe it when you say I'm special. But maybe I'm just special to you. You could be biased." "Oh yes, I'm biased," I said as I caressed her small, perfect breasts. "I admit it. I've lost all my critical judgment. I think you're totally wonderful." She smiled at me, and her warm brown eyes were mesmerizing. "So can we go away? Kendall's still going to be gone for a week and a half." I shouldn't. I had new responsibilities at work. Especially since the new guy hired to replace me was just learning the job. And I really couldn't afford it. But like I said, I was hypnotized by those eyes. I couldn't say no. "Where would you like to go?" "The tropics," she said. I had been thinking Atlanta... Memphis, maybe. "The tropics? It's springtime. Nobody goes to the tropics in the spring." "I just like the sound of it. The Tropics. I hear some of the islands have nude beaches." I leaned back on my elbow and looked at her. She was glowing in the aftermath of our lovemaking. She was absolutely gorgeous. "Nude beaches? You couldn't possibly go to a nude beach. Could you? Would you?" "I don't know. It might be fun." "Karen!" "I think I might like showing off." "You could cause a riot." "No. Really?" "Karen, I don't know how to tell you what kind of body you have. You're lovely when all I can see is your face and some hints under your clothes. But that first time I saw you naked... I can't describe it." "I never thought I looked that good." "You look that good. Trust me. I know." "I think I believe you. And I think maybe I'm ready to let other people see me. So I can see for myself how they react. Just so I'll know. Can we go? Where there are nude beaches? Please?" So I called a travel agent and booked an all-inclusive 4-night package for two. "Karen, you know this is the kind of place where men are going to be hitting on you?" "And are the women going to be hitting on you?' "Possibly." "Then we'd better pack plenty of condoms." I didn't sleep well that night. I booked separate flights for us from our small airport to Atlanta, but we would be together from there to our island destination. I landed at Hartsfield first, and I was waiting when her flight arrived. I watched the passengers disembark. It's funny, I thought. There was a time when people dressed up to get on a plane. Now people had learned to dress for comfort. Lots of sweats and loose clothing. Sports shoes and sandals. But then Karen appeared. She was dressed for effect. High heels. Bare legs. Short skirt. That loose knit top ending just below her navel. Killer. It was like there was an invisible force field around her. The crowd just magically parted, and she sailed through like a princess. And everywhere eyes just focussed on her. No wonder. She was commanding. I had always known Karen was beautiful. But now Karen knew she was beautiful. I had convinced her. And now Karen had attitude. Her awakened sexuality was an irresistible attraction. You couldn't help looking. And wanting. Every man in the place was figuratively drooling. The women's reactions were more complicated. They were looking too. Some looked resentful, but others had an expression that translated go, girl, go! I was beginning to feel like I had a tiger by the tail. I couldn't let go, but I wasn't sure I could handle what I had in my hands. On the plane out of Atlanta it just got worse. We were sitting on the side with only two seats together; there were three on the other side of the aisle. Karen had the window seat. She took my hand and placed it on her thigh. "Guess what," she said. "What?" In reply she pulled my hand up under her skirt to her cunt. The first shock was that she wasn't wearing panties. The second shock was that her naked cunt was entirely hairless. Baby bare. "Hmmm?" she asked. I pulled my hand away like I had touched a hot stove. "Oh, are you shocked?" she asked with a mischievous grin. "Uh, surprised," I said. "Are you really going to go nude like that?" "I don't know. Maybe." "And those condoms," I said. "Are you really serious about using them?" This was the question that had kept me awake most of the night. "Maybe. I don't think I can decide these things in advance. I don't know how I'll react if somebody propositions me. It depends on who it is and what he's like. Even then..." "What if it's a her?" "Oh, I don't think so! Do you think that might happen?" "Might. And what if somebody propositions us?" "Oh! Both of us? Like a threesome?" "A foursome, more likely." "Like a trade? Is that what people do?" "Mm-hm. Could you do it?" "Could you?" She turned the question back on me. "Could I what?" I wanted to see if she would say it. She didn't even hesitate. "Fuck somebody else? While I was there? While I was there fucking somebody else right next to you?" "I honestly don't know. Right now the idea doesn't appeal to me. One woman is more than enough for now. And I don't want to share you." "Oh? Kendall's sharing." "Touche," I said. It was the first time in days that she'd mentioned Kendall. "Even if he doesn't know it," she said. "But it doesn't exactly mean there's less of me to go around. Women have the advantage that way, you know." "That's another thing. I've been giving you just about everything I've got. Would you want to share me?" Karen reached over and squeezed my dick inside my pants. "My, my," she said. "You don't seem very used up yet. Is our conversation getting to you?" Okay, so I was starting to get a little stiff. "Please!" I said, looking around nervously. "Nobody's paying any attention," she said. "And what if they were? Is somebody going to have us arrested?" "I don't want you to be embarrassed." "No, you don't want to be embarrassed. Okay." She took her hand away. "But getting back to the subject. Are you maybe a little more interested than you want me to know? Remember, I just felt the evidence." "Well, just as an idea..." "It kind of turns you on, huh? Trading, sharing, swapping?" "That doesn't mean I would actually want to do it. I... You... I mean..." "What do you mean? Say it!" How could I say it? How could I say what she meant to me? What did she mean to me? I got right up to the edge, but then I balked. "You're special," I said finally. Yeah, I know it was weak. But I just couldn't bring myself to say more. Even if I felt it. "Well," she said, "we'll see." And we did see. As it turned out, our suite backed up directly onto the nude beach. When I pulled the curtains open on the full-width window in our bedroom, the space was filled with flesh. Not a swimming suit in sight. Nobody seemed to have the slightest hesitation to bare all, even if the all they bared wasn't all they might have wanted it to be. There was firm and tanned out there, sure, but there was also lots of pale and pudgy. And nobody seemed to mind. Karen came up behind me and I felt her hands grip my waist and her breast press against the back of my upper arm as she peered around me. "Look at that," she said. "They're all naked, every one of them!" "Well, you know you don't have to be," I said. "It says 'clothing optional' you know." I waved the brochure at her. "I don't see any clothing, do you?" she asked. "Nope," I had to admit. "So are you ready?" "Are you?" "Watch me!" she said. She didn't have much clothing to shed. Her knit top. Her short skirt. Her high heels. And she was naked. "Now you," she said. What the hell, I thought. I got myself into this. Might as well go through with it. I stripped. "Last one in the ocean is a rotten egg," she said, and she opened the sliding window and dashed out of the room. She was waist deep in the surf, jumping up and down and squealing in excitement when I caught up with her. "This is so neat!" she said. "I feel so free!" And she threw her arms around me, pressing her naked breasts against my chest. She kissed me. People who say they have experience will tell you that there's nothing essentially erotic about a nude beach. Pretty soon, they say, you forget all about being naked and it's just like being on any other beach. And as for what all us guys naturally worry about? Forget it, they say. Hardly anybody ever gets an erection on a nude beach. And if you do, you can always just go into the water or shove it into the sand and hide it. But don't worry about it. It probably won't ever happen. These people never shared a nude beach with Karen Craig. I had an erection. All that sleek skin pressed against me and her mouth moving on mine... yeah, I had an erection all right. And Karen reached down and grabbed it in her fist. "Look what I found in the ocean," she said. "Yeah, well it's going to have to stay in the ocean for a while," I said. "I'm not going up on the beach like this." "You'll just have to wait for me then," she said, "'cause I'm ready to put on a show." And damned if she didn't. Her wet skin glistening in the sun, Karen walked up onto that beach and strutted from one end of it to the other like a model on a catwalk. Other people on the beach were nude. Karen was on display. And if you don't know the difference, I guess you just had to be there. And if you had been there, you would have observed a curious phenomenon. By the time Karen completed her parade, at least half of the men on the beach had suddenly discovered a need to go stand in the water, leaving their bewildered or resentful female companions behind on the beach. One even left a male companion. When Karen came back to me she was shivering. The sun was warm and the water was warm, but she was shivering. Throwing her arms around me and stretching up close to my ear, Karen whispered urgently, "I've got to fuck you, Robert; I've got to fuck you right now. Come to the room and let's fuck!" I wasn't in a much more presentable state than before, but she could have led me anywhere. Followed by the eyes of a number of naked men standing waist deep in the ocean, Karen and I returned to our room. I hardly had time to draw the curtains before Karen flung me down on my back on the bed. Straddling me, she grabbed my semi-hard dick in her hand and pressed the tip to her wet and swollen pussy lips. My prick was still kind of limber, but she wasn't prepared to wait. She pointed it at the juicy opening of her vagina and used her hands to feed it in. "Oh, God, Robert, their eyes! I could feel their eyes. It's like they were touching my body with their eyes. I've never felt so turned on!" Her excitement was contagious, and I was quickly erect inside her. "Ooooh," she said, "Oooooh. I made them get hard. You saw. They all... wanted me!" "I told you," I said. "Oh God. Oh! Oh my God! Oh Robert! Oh! Oh! Ahhhhhhhhh!" My prick was full almost to bursting now, responding to her arousal. And she was recovering from her climax. "Oh, Robert," she said, "your penis feels so good. It's so hard and so thick and so long. And I just practically raped you, didn't I?" "Yup," I said. It sounded a little strangled in my throat. "And it was just for me, wasn't it?" "Yup, seemed like it," I said. "You never treated me like that." "Nope. I hope not." "You always think about my feelings, don't you?" "Uh... could we talk about it later?" "What do you want to do now?" "I want to make love with you," I said without thinking about it. And then I couldn't believe I'd said it. I felt so emotionally exposed. But she responded. "Oh! Make love. I think I like that idea. I think that's even better than fucking. Let's make love and then we can talk. I'd like that." And when I kissed her I realized a barrier I hadn't even known was there had disappeared. We kissed like never before. Gentle and passionate. Savage and serene. And underneath it all was a communion that was new between us. Karen had made it possible. She had recognized out loud that the times we fucked before were more than just satisfying a momentary urge as she had just done. That let me acknowledge something I had felt between us... more than just fucking, more than having sex so she could learn about it. Making love. We'd shared a pretense that what we had been doing wasn't all that significant. Now we were admitting its real importance to us both. As our mouths and tongues moved against one another, our hips began to move again. Slowly, sensitively, Karen rose up to the tip of my prick and slithered down again. I could feel the walls of her vagina caressing me. I concentrated on the sensation of being inside her, joined with her. She rose again, and as she did I felt a new sensation. Her pussy was clutching at me, as if reluctant to let me go. Our kiss was over now, and Karen's face was suspended above me as she held herself an arm's length from my chest. Her eyes were closed and her jaw was set in concentration. "Mmmmhhh," she said, trembling a little as her pussy sank down on me again. "I'm feeling every inch of you. I feel so wonderfully full. Can you feel me all around you?" "All around me," I said. "It's like all of me is inside you. It's a beautiful place to be." And we picked up the pace. "Ohhh, I feel it," she said, plunging up and down on top of me. "It's different. Is it different for you?" "Uh-huh," I said. "Unhhh!" I was beginning to find it a little difficult to carry on a conversation. "Stop!" I said. She paused with my dick buried inside her. "Just feel it," I said. "Don't move for a minute." "Oh," she said, "this is nice." "What are you feeling?" I asked. "I'm feeling how we're connected," she said. "Your penis inside me is only part of it. It's like there's a web of attachments between us. A web we've been spinning together for a long time." "Do you know that some people say they can stay motionless like this for hours? Just feeling that connection. It's a spiritual thing." "It is. I can feel it. But do we have to stay still? It feels so good when you're sliding in and out of me." "Me too. I don't know if I have that kind of patience." She began to move. I reached up and touched her magnificent body. I touched her face and I touched her tits and I touched her moist pussy above my dick. "Oh, Robert," she cried. "Oh, Karen, you're so beautiful I can't stand it. I can't hold out much longer." "Robert, you're so big inside me. I can feel you pulsing and jerking and I'm feeling... AAAHHhhh!" Her climax took her unexpectedly, and she collapsed quivering on top of me. "UNNHHH," I grunted as I came inside her. "Unh... unh... unh!" I just kept coming. I don't know where it all came from. The past few days I thought I had been running a semen deficit, spending more than I was making. But something was sure pumping through my dick in ecstatic pulses that resonated through my whole body. It felt like it was lifting the top of my head off. And there were vague feelings swirling in my brain, like a viscous mist of desire and fulfillment and... love. It was different. It was a feeling like I'd never felt. So this was what making love was like! There was silence for what seemed like a long time. "Ohhh... Robert!" Karen's voice penetrated the fog. "Thank you! Thank you. It feels like... It feels like, I don't know... It feels like..." "Caring?" "Oh yes, Robert, I cared about you that time. I really think I love you. You don't know how you make me feel. I feel so... accepted." "Accepted?" "Yeah, like it's okay to be me. It seems like it was never enough for anybody before... just being me. I was always supposed to be something more than I thought I could be... or less than I thought I was. But you... you just wanted me." "You're all I wanted, all I could have imagined. You're... perfect." "Oh, now that's a little too much. Nobody's perfect. Don't start thinking that. That's too much to live up to." "I just mean I don't want to change you. Even when you're nearly raping me just for you. I'm glad I'm the one you choose." "Well, don't get a swelled head. I still might use those condoms." "What?" "There are a lot of men out there, and they look like they're willing. And I know it's selfish but I don't know if two men in my life is a big enough sample." "Hey..." "I haven't asked you how many women you had before." "I wasn't having them right in front of you. That was before." "And did you ever think you were in love... before?" "Well, I may have thought..." "But now you know better? Experience?" "Well, yeah..." "Well see, I've still got to get that experience. You know I still can't even say the words for things? All I know are those scientific terms from the book you gave me. What's this?" she asked as she pointed to her body. "That's your cunt, your pussy," I said. "My vulva, my vagina, my labia, my clitoris," she said. "I memorized them all. What's this?" and she pointed at me. "That's my dick, my prick, my cock." "Your penis," she said. "It's too lovely for a word like that. Peee-nis. Ugly. And so are those other words. Except maybe cock. That's got kind of a perky, top-of-the-morning feel to it. Kind of an eagerness. That's nice. But dick? What does that mean? Prick? That's an action, not an organ. These words just aren't comfortable for me. I don't feel free yet." "So?" "I maybe need to learn some more... from some other men." The bottom dropped our from under me. "What do you mean?" I asked. We had just been talking about love. And now this. "I want to see what happens, is all. I want to go out there and be sexy and see what happens. It would be nice if you could enjoy it with me?" "How do you mean?" "How did it make you feel when you saw me on the beach?" "Proud of you. The thought of all those men looking at you, lusting for you... it excited me." "I thought so. I could feel it in you. And when I fucked you and I was thinking about all those men?" "It was a thrill, knowing I was the one you came back to." "See what I mean? You can enjoy it. Just remember, whatever happens, you're the one I'm flying home with." Chapter III We were walking into the restaurant when it hit me. I was walking behind Karen, watching her provocative sway, when I realized I was actually seeing the shadow in the cleft of her ass. Her short black dress was long-sleeved and modestly cut, with a high round collar. But I realized with a shock that the material of this dress that looked so modest at first glance was completely sheer. You could see right through it. The dress was an optical illusion; it only seemed to conceal, and once you saw through it to the bare skin beneath you couldn't ever not see through it again. Worn with a sexy bra and panties, the dress would have been crude and obvious. Karen's choice was subtler and more daring. And her clean-shaven pussy was essential to the effect. The darkness of her pubic hair would have been immediately apparent. So would the dark circles of her nipples, but she must have covered them up with makeup or something. Once I realized what I was seeing, the effect was overwhelmingly erotic. She was wearing that barely-there dress and a pair of high heels and nothing else at all, not even any jewelry. She was totally and proudly on display, every bit of her. And she had the effrontery to carry it off. As we entered the clubroom, the buzz of conversation seemed suddenly subdued, as if lots of people were suddenly struck dumb. And eyes turned our way, lots of eyes, not that they necessarily recognized everything Karen was displaying. Her bare legs alone were enough to command the attention of any man with blood in his veins. Seating in the restaurant was European-style. People weren't given a table to themselves; they were seated with others until the tables were full. We joined another couple at a table for four. He was a fit- looking forty-something, with a receding hairline that only accentuated his impressive brow; she had arrived at that stage of life that some lucky women manage to stay in for many years. She was ripe, fully flowered and gorgeous. Her blouse was open in a generous v, exposing the tops of her generous breasts. "Hi, I'm Patrick," he said, "and this is Gloria." He was wearing the ghost of a wedding ring... a band of pale flesh on his tanned left hand. Gloria's left hand was bare. But there was a sparkle on her right hand, and sparkles at her ears and at her throat. My guess was that Patrick could afford to be generous. His clothing tended to confirm that impression; it was casual, but obviously expensive. Gloria was also expensively dressed, in a way that emphasized the lush curves of her body. She was an ornament; the word 'trophy' came to mind. Did I mention she was blonde? I caught Karen's eyes and flashed her a questioning look. She nodded slightly, and after a pause I nodded back. I felt hopelessly outclassed here, but if Karen wasn't intimidated, I would try not to be. By the time dinner was over, Karen was giving Patrick the full treatment, hanging on his every word like it was the most interesting thing she had ever heard, clasping his arm and gasping "No!" as he recounted some financial exploit or other, looking warmly into his eyes and smiling coyly. It was quite a performance. She had intuited exactly the approach most likely to appeal to Patrick, and he was lapping it up. If I hadn't known her so well, I might have bought her bimbo act myself. Gloria seemed exceptionally well informed about the scandalous things people were reputed to have done in the past at this club. And she wasn't shy about sharing it with me. It was a pretty sexy conversation we were having, and I wasn't subtle about the way I let my eyes roam around on her body as we talked. She seemed to like it a lot. But I was also paying attention to how things were going between Karen and Patrick. So I noticed when Karen stiffened slightly, then made a conscious effort to relax. And I felt her hand slide onto my thigh, just about the same place where Patrick's hand almost certainly was sliding onto hers. She gave me a conspiratorial little squeeze. And then things got really interesting. There was a hand on my other thigh now, Gloria's hand, and both hands were heading slowly toward my crotch. So I stood up and asked Karen to dance before the two hands met at their destination. It was a slow dance, and she felt wonderful as she came into my arms. Her mouth was very close to my ear. "Whew," she whispered, "he was just about to find out I'm naked under here... if he didn't know already." "I think he does now," I whispered back. "Take a look." I turned us so she could look at Patrick over my shoulder. "Oh, my," she said. "His nostrils are even flared. He is definitely in rut." "And while you're looking, take a look around the room." "Oh my God, they know, don't they? They know what's under my dress." It was obvious at least some of the men did by the way they were looking at us... at her, rather. She shivered in my arms. "You say men looked at me... before?" "Maybe not exactly like that," I said, "but they sure looked. And liked." "I never knew," she said wonderingly. "But how about you? You seem to be getting along well with little Miss Trollop." "My, aren't we catty all of a sudden? Do I detect a small note of jealousy here?" "Yeah, I guess you do. I really didn't expect it. I spent so much time thinking about how you would react to seeing me with another man that I never thought about you with another woman. It does make me jealous. I'm surprised." I pondered the implications of that for a moment, but I decided it was too complicated to figure out just then. There was an immediate question to be answered. "So how far do we want to go with this?" She took a deep breath, and the feeling of her tits moving against my chest was heavenly. "All the way," she said firmly. "Let's take them together." "Together?" "You and me. We're a team. We're going to get these two twits naked and fuck the bejesus out of them!" "Karen!" "Well, we are, aren't we?" Getting them naked would not be a problem. Patrick invited us for a late night swim in the pool where clothing was just as optional as it was on the beach. Meaning it was really not an option. Karen and I went back to our room to let our dinner settle. "How do you think it will happen?" I asked. "Depends," she said, "on how many people there are in the pool. If we're there by ourselves, or even if it's just not very crowded, I think he might try to fuck me right there in the water." "Are you going to let him?" "I might." "Even if there are other people?" "I might." "You wouldn't be embarrassed?" "Why? Everybody knows why people come here. You knew when you made the reservations." She had me there. "I was testing you," I said. "Did you think I'd be shocked?" "Maybe." "Well I am. I'm shocked that you invited me here and I'm shocked that I accepted." "Wait a minute, I thought it was your idea!" "Yeah, I'm shocked at that too. What have you done to me?" She was in my arms on the couch, leaning her back against my chest, with my arms around her waist and her long bare legs stretched out across the cushions. She turned her head and looked into my eyes. "Me?" I protested. "You. You know what I was like when I met you. Could you have imagined this day? Everything we've done? Everything I've done? You changed me, and now I'm your responsibility." "Oh no, you know better than that." "Yeah, now I do, thanks to you. I'm my own responsibility. I never knew that before. I owe you for that." "You don't owe me a thing," I said. "We can start fresh right from this moment." "Sure?" "Sure." She swung her marvelous legs around and slipped up into my lap and flung her arms around my neck and said, "Then I want to hug you and kiss you and feel your body next to me at night and wake up in the morning next to you and start hugging and kissing you all over again. Over and over again. For as long as you'll let me." "But first..." "Yeah, well maybe I'll fuck a few people first." The resort thoughtfully provided long white terrycloth robes for its guests to wear, and Karen and I wore them to the pool. There were underwater lights that turned the water to greenish-gold and flickered soft shadows up onto our bodies as we shed our robes. Patrick and Gloria removed their robes as well. I couldn't help comparing bodies. The word for Gloria was lush. She was the adolescent male's ideal, the Playboy idea of perfection. I couldn't help wondering if she had been surgically enhanced. Her breasts were full and bouncy and upstanding. Can silicone bounce, I wondered. Her hips were full, and there was a fascinating taper from the points of her pelvis to the v of her pubic hair. When she turned away from me, her ass was wide and lovely, with deep dimples on either side of her tailbone. Karen looked slight by contrast. I have described her body as 'slim,' but that isn't quite accurate. The word 'compact' comes closer. But even that wasn't quite right. For me the right word was 'perfect,' and I'll tell you why. I've talked about Karen's legs, and how striking they were in a short skirt and hose. And I've said how much more arresting her legs were when they were naked. Well, her whole body was the same way when she was nude. Indescribable. Every curve, every plane, every surface and every shadow was somehow just right. Harmony. That was the word. Everything in harmony. Gloria was lush abundance. Karen was just enough. Nothing less and nothing more. Enough. Perfection. At least for me. And she was apparently getting to Patrick as well. He wasn't exactly dangling anymore. He was rising to the occasion. Not there yet, but getting there. It's hard to make comparisons at that stage, and I was trying hard not to. Looking at two beautiful women who were beautiful in two entirely different ways, I was rising too. Pretty soon I would get there myself. I tried not to think of it as a contest. I failed. Karen put an end to the duel when she stepped to the edge of the pool and dove gracefully into the water. Patrick immediately dove after her and his head came up beside hers near the center of the pool. And then I got distracted as Gloria's big soft boobs pressed against my back. "Aren't you coming in?" she asked, clasping her arms around my waist. "I can think of lots of games to play in the water." One of her hands slid down to stroke my prick. I turned around in her arms and kissed her. And then, holding her in my arms, I took one step backward and let myself fall into the pool. She came up spitting water. "Augh," she coughed, "aren't you the tricky one!" She cupped her hand and splashed water into my face. I splashed her back, and we were soon in an energetic water fight, standing nearly shoulder deep in the pool. When I had enough of that, I wrestled Gloria into my arms and pinned her against the edge of the pool. Breathing hard, we just stood that way for a moment, feeling our bodies pressed against each other. And then I kissed her again. Her hands cupped around my butt, pulling my swelling dick against her. "Mmmm," she said, "do you think we can find a use for that?" "Here?" "Why not? We're alone here." Alone? I looked around. Where was Karen? Where was Patrick? I pulled myself out of the water to sit on the edge of the pool. Their robes were gone. This wasn't the way we had pictured it at all. As I sat there wondering what to do, Gloria took matters into her own hands, and shortly thereafter into her mouth as well. She was very talented. "Ohhhh!" I said. "Much more of that and I'm going to come in your mouth." "Why don't you come back into the water then? Have you ever fucked in the water? It's very nice." "Just a minute." I reached for my robe and pulled a condom out of the pocket. "Want to help?" "Sure." Gloria skillfully rolled the rubber onto my turgid dick. Then she pulled me into the water and guided me to the broad steps at the shallow end. Seating me on the bottom step, so that my shoulders were under water, she lowered herself slowly onto my prick. She was right. It was a unique experience. If the soft feel of Gloria's tits hadn't already convinced me they were completely real, their buoyancy would have. They were floating in front of me like twin sleek dirigibles that could have carried her away if she hadn't been tethered to my dick. She had her pussy muscles clenched around me, and when she released her grip she really did start to rise up off of me. I grabbed her by the hips and pulled her back down, then released her to let her slide back up. Even though she was on top, I was in complete control. It was like masturbating using a live and responsive woman instead of my hands. Her response started slowly, which wasn't surprising given the absence of any foreplay. But once she got going she was explosive. She was grunting and her chest was heaving and the waves were crashing against the sides of the pool. Her fingernails were cutting into my shoulders. "Hold on!" she said as my hands began to slip against her flesh. Her thrashing around was about to tear her from my grip. "Hold on; I'm coming. Ooooooh! AHHHHH! Oh yessss!" And just about that time I exploded inside her, thrusting my hips upward and lifting her tits entirely out of the water. I bounced against her several times as I arched my back and spurted into her, and then I relaxed and we sank back into the pool. "Ohhhh!" I said. "That was an incredible sensation." "I told you. I'm glad you enjoyed our little show. I did too. More than I usually do." "Show?" I asked. "What show?" She answered by lifting her head and glancing upward. I turned to look over my shoulder and realized for the first time that the resort's main bar overlooked the pool, and its panoramic window was crowded with people. The two underwater lights on either side of the steps had spotlighted us perfectly. Some of the people were applauding. "I think they like the way you put my tits up on display at the very end," she said. "That was new." This wasn't going the way we had planned at all. The puppets were jerking the puppeteers around. It was making me uncomfortable and I suddenly wondered whether we had gotten in way over our heads. "Where is Karen?" I asked. "Patrick took her to the bar... to watch." I stood up and pulled Gloria to her feet as well. I looked at her hard, and I saw what the dappled light from the water and maybe a coating of makeup had concealed before. She had bruises on her breasts... finger marks. "Patrick has a rough streak, doesn't he?" "A mile wide." "I've got to go to Karen. Will you help?" "I can't." She shrugged helplessly. "I need him." "At least tell me where your room is." "A-9," she said pointing. "Down that way from the bar." "Wait here," I said. I caught up with them in the hall just outside the bar. Patrick had Karen by the arm and was leading her toward his room. "Karen!" I said. They stopped and turned to face me. "Are you all right, Karen?" There was an almost imperceptible pause and then she nodded her head. "I'm all right. You go take care of Gloria," she said. I had my doubts, and I believe she had some too, but she wasn't giving up. I had to respect that. Patrick took her arm again with a smirk, and they went on down the hall. I went to get Gloria and we went to my room. I was awakened from a fitful doze by a rapping on the window facing the beach. I was momentarily disoriented. I had almost become accustomed to waking up with a naked woman beside me in bed, but not this naked woman. Those big, soft tits pressed against my back were not familiar. I finally remembered where I was and what was going on. I reached out and swiveled the bedside alarm clock around to face me. Four-fifteen, it said. Gently, so as not to wake Gloria, I pulled the covers aside and went to the window and opened the curtains. It was Karen. "Why are you back so early?" I asked as I let her in. "It's the middle of the night." "Shhh," she said. "Just hold me." And she opened her robe and wrapped it around both of us so we were standing skin-to-skin. "Robert, you're a treasure." "What?" "Tell her to go away." "Huh?" "Gloria... tell her to go away." I walked over and gently shook Gloria's shoulder. "Karen's back," I said. "It's time for you to go." Gloria groggily put on her robe and wandered off down the beach. I pulled Karen down beside me on the bed and pulled the covers over us. She left her robe on the floor. "Are you all right, Karen? I was worried he might hurt you." "Yeah, I guess I'm okay. But it wasn't like I thought it might be." "How so?" "Well, first thing he made me stand there and watch you and Gloria doing it. That was... I wondered if he thought it would turn me on, but it just made me feel kind of queasy. I don't know if it was just jealousy or if it was like a kind of a violation, watching something like that. Maybe a little of both and some of some other stuff too, I don't know. But it made me squirm. Maybe he was doing it to humiliate me, I don't know." "But he didn't actually hurt you?" "Not exactly. But he didn't seem too concerned about my feelings either. He was too busy proving what kind of stud he was. He didn't wait for me. If it hadn't been for the lubrication on the condom he would have hurt me coming into me. He had great technique, though. I've got to give him that. He gave a little twist against my clitoris every time he came all the way inside me. I guess that's why they call it screwing. You might want to try it." "I..." "Robert, I'm kidding you. Sort of. I couldn't help it; it really stimulated me, and with somebody who really cared for me it might really turn up my thermostat. With Patrick I felt like it should have been arousing me more, but it just wasn't." "When I said did he hurt you, you said, 'not exactly.'" "Yeah, well it got a little uncomfortable when he was pawing at my breasts. I don't know what he thought he was doing... showing me what a man he is, I guess. He may have thought he was pleasing me, but it was really pretty painful. You know I like it like that sometimes, but he didn't wait for me to ask. It made me mad, so I sort of knocked his hands away." "How did he take that?" "Not very well. He grabbed my wrists and pinned them against the mattress, and then he started to pound into me really hard. And then he had this big orgasm, with lots of grunting and snorting and stuff. And then he said, 'You're one really hot bitch, baby. I'll bet your boyfriend doesn't fuck you like that.' "I was even madder now. He had humiliated me, hurt me, insulted me, and now he was insulting you. Well, trying to insult you. Actually you fuck me lots, lots better. You're just so good..." She wriggled up against me and wrapped her arms around me, pressing every inch of her lithe, firm body to me. To get any closer she would have had to melt into my skin. "Anyhow, there was all this plus the fact that he had an orgasm and I didn't. I felt like blowing up in his face, but instead I just said, 'He sure doesn't,' in my best oh-what-a-manly-man-you-are voice. And then he wanted to tie me up." "You didn't let him..." "Robert! This was a man I just met tonight... well, last night, technically... who hadn't been very nice to me so far. And I'm supposed to just let him tie me to the bed? Yeah, right!" "So what did you do?" "Well, I snuggled up to him and ran my fingers through the hairs on his chest and said, 'I don't know what you mean. Why don't you show me?' 'How?' he asked. 'Well,' I said, 'why don't you lie on the bed like you'd like me to lie down, and show me how you would tie me up?' So he moved into the center of the bed and spread out his arms and legs and said, 'Like this.' And I noticed then that he already had some ropes connected to the corners of the bed. 'Oh,' I said, 'Are these the ropes you intend to use?" 'Yeah.' 'So, let me see,' I said, 'you would tie my wrist to the bed like this?' And I knotted a rope around his wrist. 'Yeah.' 'And the other wrist like this?' 'Yeah.' 'And then my ankles... like this?' And I tied his ankles down too." "And then what happened," I asked her. "I left him like that." "You left him like that?" "Well, not exactly like that. First I found a ribbon in some of Gloria's stuff over on the dressing table. Then I teased him until he got really hard again. Then I tied the ribbon... it was a pink one... around his big, thick thingie. And then I left him like that." I couldn't help laughing at the picture in my mind. "Gloria should have quite a..." "Yeah," Karen giggled, "I wonder how she'll react" "I don't know," I said. "Finding him all gift wrapped like that? The possibilities boggle the mind." Karen looked at me seriously. "I don't think I'd mind it if you tied me down." "If I..." "I know you wouldn't hurt me." There was a lustful light in her eyes, or maybe it was just the reflection of the moonlight coming through the open curtains. "But you might tease me and make me crazy," she said, "crazy with wanting you. Making me wait. Helpless. Hot. Waiting. Wanting." "Karen!" "Just pretend?" "But..." "Listen to me Robert. Patrick left me all horny... is that the right word? He didn't let me climax. I didn't like him and I didn't trust him, but I can't have a cock in me anymore without wanting something to happen. I have to admit it made me curious when he talked about tying me up. I didn't trust him, but I trust you. Try it! Teach me about this!" "I don't know anything about it," I objected. "Then we can learn together, can't we?" "How..." "We can use the belts from our robes," she said eagerly, "and I can cut up a pair of pantyhose. Two if we need them. Come on..." By the time I finished tying her up her pussy lips were parted and her inner lips were peeking through, glistening just a little. She writhed against her bonds experimentally. "I really can't get loose. You could do anything to me. Anything at all." "Uh huh," I said. "I can touch you anywhere, do anything to you. You're at my mercy." I was beginning to get into the spirit of this thing. I straddled her, careful not to let my body actually touch hers. I grabbed her hair to hold her head motionless and almost but not quite touched her lips with mine. She strained to kiss me, but I held her head firmly. "Oh no, it's not going to be that easy." I almost kissed her forehead, and her ears, and her throat, and her straining nipple. Letting her feel my breath, I skimmed down over her trembling navel and poised my lips just above her hairless pussy. I blew softly on her now prominent inner lips. She moaned quietly. She lifted her head, and she watched me as I hovered over her thighs and her calves and her squirming toes. "What do you feel? Tell me how you feel." My words puffed against her delicate sole. "Oh Robert, I'm tingling all over and you haven't even touched me. Even your breath is making me quiver inside. Please touch me... please!" I let my lips brush lightly against her sole. "Ohhh!" she exhaled explosively. I gently kissed her other foot, feeling the soft little wrinkles on the inside of her arch against my closed lips. A few grains of sand still clung to her. I blew them off. I slipped my finger between her toes and brushed away the sand from there. And then I took each toe into my mouth and bathed it with my tongue, stroking her calves with my hands. "Mmmm," she hummed, "that's so nice. I never knew my toes could feel so sexy." I kissed inside her arches again, this time stroking her softly with my tongue. I took the heel of her foot into my mouth and moistened it. I kissed the little hollow underneath each anklebone. Her breathing had changed; it was quicker now, and noisier. She sighed when I reached under her to stroke the backs of her knees. I moved my kisses up to the inside of her thighs as she lay naked, bound and spread-eagled beneath me. I concentrated on the area just above the knees, roughly the territory I had admired so often below the hem of a short skirt. She was beginning to squirm a little more now, pulling against her bonds. "Oh Robert... oh!" "What is it, lover? Talk to me. Tell me about it." "It's like I'm melting. Every time you touch me it ripples all through my body. And my... pussy. My pussy is throbbing and it feels so hot." I moved higher now, and I could feel that heat on my cheek as I kissed her upper thighs. She squirmed harder. "Ah, ah, ah, ah," she cried. "Tell me." "I want you to... touch me." She lifted her hips to reach for me as she spoke. "I want you to touch my... cunt. I want to touch you. I want to put my hands on your head and push you against me and make you... eat me. Suck my clit. Fuck me with your tongue. Oh! Please!" And she struggled against the knots that held her. I kissed the tops of her thighs and then higher, just beside the junction of her legs. But I carefully avoided touching her pussy. "Aaaaagh," she cried in frustration, and she started moving her hips from side to side, trying to find my mouth with her cunt. "No, no!" she cried as I kissed her shaven mons. "Lower!" But instead I moved my lips higher, kissing her heaving abdomen. "No please, please!" she pleaded. I reached her navel and shoved my tongue inside a couple of times, just like she wanted me to do lower down. "Uuunh, uuunh, uuunh!" she grunted. Long waves were rippling down her body now, from her head down to her feet, with a little pause each time where my tongue was teasing her belly button. And then I stopped. And I got up. And I stood at the foot of the bed just looking at her. "Naaaw!" she groaned. "What are you doing?" "I'm just looking at you." She was quite a sight. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were glazed with passion. Her nipples stood out like giant jellybeans. Her lewdly exposed pussy glistened between her widespread legs. And her body rippled like the surface of the ocean just a few dozen feet outside our window. "Please come back! I need you. I need you now. Please!" "Look at you," I said. "You thought you were frigid, and now you're so worked up you can't even control your body. Try something for me. Try to hold absolutely still. I bet you can't do it." So she tried. I had dared her and she really tried. She managed to stop the big motions that had been shaking her from head to toe, but she still quivered, and a big shudder shook her every few seconds. "Oh, please! I can't stand it. Come back and give it to me." I walked around the bed and stood at her side beside her head. She turned to look at me pleadingly. "You are so wonderfully sensual," I said. "I would never have guessed it when I first met you." "Ahhww, don't stand there telling me how sexy I am. Get back down here dammit and make me come!" "Oh, now you're talking dirty. I like that." "Eat my pussy; fuck my cunt! Make me come and come and come." "And if I promise that I'll do that, what will you do for me?" "Anything you say. Fellatio. I'll do fellatio." "You'll do what?" "I'll suck your fucking cock, you bastard," she growled. "Is that what you want to hear?" She had never done that to me before. I hadn't asked, and she hadn't volunteered. As far as I knew, she had never done that to anybody before. "Maybe," I said. "Maybe if you beg me hard enough I'll let you." I climbed on top of her and put my hands on her wrists just below the knotted terrycloth. I was kneeling just above her stomach, and my dick was bobbing in the air above her chest. Did I mention that I was pretty turned on by all this too? Slowly I stroked her arms down nearly to her armpits. I stroked them again, and again, always stopping just before I reached her torso. "Oh God Robert, what are you doing? Why don't you touch my breasts? They're aching for you. Why don't you touch my... cunt? I'm so hot for you." Shifting my position slightly, I pressed my hands flat against her ribcage, just missing her breasts, and I stroked her sides all the way down to the points of her pelvis, deliberately avoiding her most erogenous zones. "Tell me what you're feeling," I said. "Oh my God... oh my God. I'm feeling my... my tits. And I'm feeling my... cunt. And they want your touch. They want to feel you feeling me." She was writhing around again now, thrashing against her restraints. Slowly and deliberately, I placed the tips of my index fingers lightly against the very tips of her nipples. "Ohhuhuhuh," she gasped and panted, and she surged against the belts holding her arms as she tried to reach up to me. I waited until I was sure she was watching, and then I placed a finger in my mouth and licked it, coating it with wetness. And then I reached out to a nipple again, and I caressed it with my slick finger, circling the sides and then pressing down on the tip. Her hips bucked and I think her pussy may have actually slapped against my balls. "Oh yes... oh my!" she cried. I licked a finger on my other hand and carefully caressed just the nipple on her other breast. "Oh that's so right," she cried. "They're so tender, and that feels so good." "Tell me what you want now," I said. "Oh please Robert, I'm begging you, let me take you in my mouth. I want to touch your cock with my lips and my tongue. I want to make you feel good too." That was it. That was the breakthrough I was looking for. She was ready to take pleasure from giving pleasure. Now I know this is going to be difficult for most people to believe. But this really was more about her than it was about me. Somebody watching her delicate lips close around my throbbing cock would naturally think, wow, what a lucky guy. But the truth is I was doing it mostly for her. I don't get off on blowjobs all that much unless I can feel her getting turned on by it too. I had felt a few duty sucks, and I didn't like it much. This wasn't a duty suck. This was a clumsy, earnest, honest, erotic attempt at making love. She was trying to give to me. And despite her technical imperfections, she got me hard. Very hard. All she had to work with were her mouth and her eyes. Her mouth felt good, but her eyes excited me more. They were shining and eager and adoring as she looked up at me and slurped at my cock. There were some shudders running through my body now too. Reluctantly I pulled away from her mouth. I wanted to come in her pussy... eventually. "Did I do it okay?" she asked. "I never did it before." "You nearly made me come; that's why I had to quit." "It makes me feel good, making you feel good." "I know," I said. "I know." I let my cock touch her body now, leaving a trail of moisture down between her breasts. Using my hand to help, I stroked my cockhead across the underside of both her breasts. She twitched and gasped. My cock twitched too, and I had to stop for a moment. But I got control again, and I lowered the very tip of my dick to touch one of her nipples, rubbing her nubbin against my cockhole. It was almost painfully arousing for me, and she was groaning and chanting my name. "Oh, Robert, Robert, Robert! Oh please! Unnhhh! Unnhhh!" "Ohhh! Soon. Pretty soon now," I groaned. I traced a line down her body with my cock, coming to rest with its tip on her bare mound, just above her pussy. I paused as her body rocked beneath me. She managed to raise her pussy up so her lips folded around my shaft, bathing it in moisture. She pumped her hips against me. "Oh God! I want you so bad. Fuck me! Please! Fuck me!" Lifting up my hips I let the tip of my dick slide down between her labia to the entrance of her vagina, and then in a single motion I pushed all the way inside. "OHHHH! OHHHH! Oh God yes!" she cried, and her hot pussy clutched at me again and again. Some women practice motions like that, but this was entirely involuntary. It was like her body was trying to swallow me. I had been in control all this time, stimulating her, making her wait, denying myself the release I wanted too. But now she had taken over. I was buried inside her and she was rippling around me. She was going to make me come. "Oh God, Karen, you're doing it. I can't... I can't..." "Come for me Robert... come for me... come for me," she murmured. "I can't hold it! I can't... UNHHHH!" And a great wave crashed over us both, as Karen's body shuddered in her own release. "AHHHHHH!" she cried long and high. "Robert." "Hunhhh?" "Robert, can you hear me?" "Hunhh? What?" "Robert, let me loose." Slowly I raised my body off hers, my soft cock sliding out of her pussy. "I want to hold you," she said. S0 I had untied her wrists and her ankles, and as the rosy light of dawn crept through the window to bring faint color to her skin and mine, we clutched each other as if we wanted to become the same person, melded together by the force of our passion. "You're so good," she said. "Aw..." "No, you are. I could let myself be helpless with you... imagining what could happen. Knowing I could be violated in any way you chose. It was a kick. But it taught me something." "What?" "Well, that I'm kinkier than I thought I was for one thing. I got off on that helpless feeling. But then the way you did me... it's like you could read my mind. You tortured me, but it was the way I wanted to be tortured. You teased me until I was so hot..." "So hot you couldn't help yourself?" "So hot I wanted to help you. I wanted you to feel what I was feeling. I wanted to... I wanted to... damn it, I wanted to reach out and love you. And all I had to love you with was my... my cunt. And my words. And I found a way, didn't I? I found a way." "I felt it," I said. "It was so much more," she said, "when I was reaching out and you were reaching out, and we were trying to give to each other. I wasn't just taking. And neither were you, not like..." "I know," I said. "Oh Robert, what are we going to do?" "I don't know," I said. Chapter IV What we mostly did after we returned from our trip and Kendall returned from his was sneak around, postponing any real decisions. I wasn't used to maintaining an affair with another man's wife, and Karen sure wasn't used to extramarital shenanigans either, but we adapted. Kendall had the habit of going home for lunch at 11:30. That meant Karen could feed her husband, hustle him off to work again, and meet me at my little apartment at one o'clock. We decided that was safer than meeting at her place. My neighbors didn't know me, and so they weren't likely to be curious. And since I was single, I could be expected to have female visitors. Yeah, well, so I hadn't had any visitors before, that's true, but my neighbors could just assume I finally got lucky. And of course they were right. So Karen and I would meet two or three times a week and spend a terribly short three-quarters-of-an-hour making love. It was desperately frustrating not to have more time together, but not as frustrating as those times when we were together but had to pretend that nothing had changed between us. Like the times I came over for supper with Karen and Kendall. We had established the habit of getting together once or twice a week, just the three of us, and it seemed imprudent to change that. And Kendall was still hosting get-togethers for others in the office, and of course I was always included in those too. Keeping up the pretense was exquisite torture. Every glance at Karen stimulated me, and when our eyes met what passed between us stimulated me even more. And I knew it was mutual. This woman who once worried about being frigid could now become aroused just from our imagination of each other. And so could I. I spent most of those evenings with a painful erection pressing against the jock strap I wore to hold it down. I knew it was a strain for Karen too. But I didn't realize just how desperate she was until the time I followed her to the kitchen as she gathered empty snack dishes to take to the dishwasher. She had just refilled all the glasses in the living room, so we were not likely to be disturbed by a thirsty guest. I really had just intended to offer my help with whatever she needed to do. But what she needed to do was more urgent and more intimate than I expected. She dumped the dishes and turned to me. "I can't stand it anymore, Robert," she said. She unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans and in one motion slid them along with her panties down to her ankles. She leaned up against the dishwasher and spread her knees to offer me her pussy. "Fuck me," she said. "You don't need to be gentle and you don't need to get me ready. I'm ready." And she was. I stripped my jeans and jock strap down to my knees and I entered her without preliminaries. She was already slick and lubricated and obviously horny. I held her ass and she wrapped her long, lovely legs around my waist, her jeans still dangling from one foot. Her mouth was pressed tightly closed, but a nasal grunt escaped her. The dishes in the dishwasher clashed together as she responded to my thrusts. "Everything okay in there?" Kendall's voice asked. "Yeah, we're just... getting the dishwasher going," Karen replied, doing a really good job of sounding matter-of-fact, presuming nobody noticed the gasp in the middle. And then she came. She shuddered, shaking the dishes again, and she struggled not to make a sound. And I shot inside her an instant after. I was quiet too, somehow. "Oh God!" she whispered. "I was so hot for you. Oh! All those people out there. Wipe me off! Pull your pants up!" I reached for the paper towels and wiped us both off. "You've got to go first. Here, let me fill your glass." And so I left the kitchen, waving my freshly filled glass in the air, and she followed shortly after, trying not to wave her freshly filled pussy. "Robert, we've got to talk." Her voice sounded strained on the phone when she called me at work a few days later. "Meet me for lunch at County Line Barbecue." That was odd. When we met for lunch, we never actually ate lunch. We met at my apartment and we fucked. So this was new and unexpected. "One o'clock?" I asked. "Yeah, I'll be waiting in the bar." County Line Barbecue was famous for one thing, and it wasn't the quality of its smoked pork. County Line was famous for privacy. Political deals were done at County Line, and confidential business transactions too. Not to mention countless romantic trysts. The booths had doors, like the old-time barroom swinging doors in the western movies. And when you were inside one of those booths, if you kept your conversation quiet, you were not going to be observed or overheard. And once we were seated there she said, "I'm pregnant." "But you..." "I know," she said "The pills sometimes don't work." She was trying hard to keep herself under control, but her lower lip was quivering. "So..." "So I'm going to have a baby and I don't know who the father is, not for sure." She started to sob quietly. "This changes everything," I said. "Yes, I know," she sobbed. "Does Kendall know?" "No, I wanted you to be the first." "You'll have to leave him. Leave him and marry me." "No." "No?" "I'm pretty sure the baby's yours. What I think is you just made my body and my heart want you so much that it overpowered the pills. That feels like the truth." She sniffed a couple of times, but she had managed to stop crying. "I may never have that feeling again, but I can't leave Kendall." "But why? I thought we..." "Yes. Yes, we did. And I might have left Kendall. I was thinking about it. But it's different now. I have a baby to think about." "But Karen..." "While he was at Northwestern, Kendall got offered a really good job with a big agency in Chicago. He's going to take it, and I'm going with him." I reached out for her hands, and she almost reached out for me, but she stopped herself. "No, I can't. If I touched you now I know I could never control myself. I can barely control myself anyhow. It's for the baby, Robert! Kendall will have a big house for him to grow up in, and he'll have money for good schools and college and the best kind of start in life. Could you give him all that?" "Well I..." "Robert, you're precious to me. I love you and I want you inside me right now so much I can hardly stand it. But you'll never have the drive and ambition that Kendall has. That's not the focus of your life. But it's all Kendall thinks about." "I could..." "No you couldn't change, and if you're honest with yourself you'll admit it." "But what about you? What about your feelings and your needs?" "I'll be okay." "Like you were before? You're not the same person anymore." "I know. It's the only reason I have the strength to make this decision. And it's all because of you. And maybe I can teach Kendall some of what I learned from you. Maybe." "It's your life, Karen. Are you sure?" "I'm sure. And if you love me like I think you do, you'll let me go. I don't want you to know my new address, or my phone number. If I saw you again, or even if I heard your voice, I don't think I could resist you. Like that night in the kitchen. Oh God!" Her body went rigid, and her knuckles turned white as she clutched the edge of the table. If I had touched her then, or even spoken, I might have changed the course of both our lives. But I didn't. It just didn't occur to me to intervene in the fight between will and desire that I saw in her eyes. It looked like a close fight, but her will won. I watched it happen, and I knew that I had lost her. "It's got to end right now, right here," she said finally. "Can you understand?" I understood. I understood that I would never kiss her again, never touch her perfect body, never feel the warmth of her again, never feel the ecstasy of joining in the act of love with her and the power of a climax full of feeling and communion simply because it was Karen in my arms. But I let her go. It took me a long time to get over her. I'm not sure I ever did, completely. I know I still think about her. Karen... and our child.