After Five Years
Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Ma/ft, Romantic, Heterosexual, Fiction, Cheating,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Five years after his engagement broke up, Greg sees his old girlfriend again - in the middle of a tricky mission in Northern Africa. As if his life wasn't already complicated enough with his unusual family.
July 2009, Sudan
I was sitting in the shadow sipping my karkadeh - red tea, which I preferred over the black, and occasionally I looked at the local paper that was on the table in front of me. Mostly, though, I just did what I was good at: I observed.
During the years that I had spent in different places around the world I had learned to notice what was happening in my vicinity. The main thing was to find out the right people to follow. Think about any town, any neighborhood. There are always some people who seem to be able to foresee oncoming trouble. They lock their doors and close their shops, and advise their close friends to stay inside, protected, out of harm's way.
Then there are the people who are totally clueless. Everything that happens around them is a total surprise to them.
I was dressed much like most of the men, here. My skin was toned darker than it normally was, and my hair was black. My eyebrows were dark, and the facial hair that was starting to show was also dark. I followed my surroundings while I occasionally took a look at the local paper, even though I could barely read the language. My spoken language was much better. Even if it gave away that I wasn't a local, it was good enough to hide my western background with an occasional change of words. The locals considered that my character was a migrant, who worked on the construction site nearby. This suited me just fine.
I was actually waiting for some people to arrive, whom I knew to be coming. I was here because I wanted to be sure, but some of the surveillance data I had was a bit vague. Surveillance data. I smiled inwardly. That was just a fancy name for a combination of gossip, overheard discussions and a few tapped rooms.
At first I had thought the room tapping was overkill. Then I got some information that my family and I, personally, were targets. I quickly got some technical devices from my own sources. I forced my thoughts away from my family, as I really didn't need any distractions, now. Even if I had used this disguise often enough, I never really felt familiar with these cloak and dagger things. Observation was ok, but this kind of thing kept me on my toes. In a way it was a good thing as it probably prevented me from slipping.
To any outside observer any such thoughts would probably seem silly, since nothing outside this hotel in this small town showed any signs of any problems. Only that some old women looked around a bit more than they did before. Also the old man two houses away had made sure that only a small part of his goods were stored outside his shop. Nothing much, but something that had happened before, and once some minor disturbance was over things slowly went back to normal - whatever that was. Now I knew that something bad was supposed to happen, and once I saw some people preparing for it, it got me worried. But right now I could not do much more than wait and observe, and enjoy my karkadeh.
It had been some time ago when I had noticed from the increased activity that something was happening. From previous experience, I could tell that some of this activity would last for a few days. What worried me was that not all the residents were as enthusiastic as they probably should have been at the possibility of more business. I remained interested in the paper in front of me, while I nursed my second cup of tea. After all, it was important to stay hydrated in this continuous heat.
Finally my wait was rewarded, as I saw two people approaching. It seemed that the taxi that brought them wasn't interested in driving the last mile through the narrowing streets. Instead, it had hurriedly dropped the stupid tourists off as soon as possible, and probably charged them at least triple the actual charge. Well, they could afford it. I took a careful look at the man but also made sure that I was not obviously looking in their direction.
The man was lean, probably in his mid-thirties which made him a bit older than me. The way he walked and moved oozed power and self-confidence, even arrogance. As if he was sure that there would be nothing or no-one here that could harm him. The traditional thawb he wore was not that typical around here. It clearly identified him as a 'true believer', and therefore superior to everybody else. Even though he was mostly covered by the clothing, that could not hide the fact that the way he walked made him look dangerous. He was like a big cat, a predator, walking lazily around, checking for his next prey. The way he walked around gave the impression that he had been here before. Khalid. Yes, that was the name he had been using.
The woman walking next to him was clearly a westerner, even if she was wearing a hijab. She was carrying her own stuff and seemed totally unaware of the aura her companion was spreading around. Suddenly I shivered, despite all the heat surrounding me. Her face was covered, but the way she walked brought back some memories. When she lifted her hand, as if she'd like to brush off some hair before remembering what she was wearing, I was absolutely sure that she was Karen. It wasn't as though my current troubles were not enough. My life had just become even more complicated.
May 2004, home
I was so happy I could burst. For the last two months I had been working my ass off and today was the day I got my reward. Now I was sure that I would be graduating next month - like that was ever in jeopardy - but the main thing was that my invention, for which I had filed for patent ... with the help of my professor - dreaming that maybe I could get it patented ... had been published. Moreover, as soon as it had been published, I had been contacted by a company who wanted to purchase it from me. When everything was done, I had a bit more than two million in my bank account, and my lawyer was contacting some of his friends who would help me with my investments. 'Nothing high risk, ' had been my only orders.
Part of my happiness was because I felt that now I was able to fix the only rift I felt there was between my fiancée Karen and me. Well the rift wasn't really between Karen and me, but between her parents and me. Her family was well-off while I was a poor orphan, a beggar who was only after their wealth. It didn't matter to her mother and father that their wealth was only first generation, or that I owned, debt-free, the apartment we already lived in together. Everybody who wasn't as wealthy as they were, or wasn't otherwise important, was a beggar. Luckily Karen didn't feel that way. It was because of her that I was the person I'd become. I let my mind wander back a few years while driving.
During the last two years in high school I had failed my chance to graduate with honors, because of one simple discovery. I really found out what the girls had that guy's didn't: pussy. At that time I could have become a total asshole or a teenage father, but luckily neither of those things happened. Once my mother found out about my activities, she read me a personal riot act! She made sure that I would not force the girls to anything they didn't want to do, and that I would always be respectful to the girls. Any kind of bragging was totally out of the question. When she made me read a booklet how to orally please a woman, and how to make sure that your partner was ready for intercourse, I was a bit embarrassed. But the final humiliation came when she decided to question me about it, afterwards.
Half a year later I hugged her, and thanked her for what she had done for me. I was quite sure that all my girlfriends were grateful, too.
Somewhere inside I hoped that my parents could see me now, but that was not to be. They had managed to see me graduate high school, but at the beginning of that summer a drunken driver who missed the red light trashed their car in an intersection. The emotional roller coaster which followed was too much for my high school girlfriend, Lisa, with whom I had been steady for the previous seven months. One day she just wasn't there anymore, her cell number didn't work and there was just one single written note saying "I'm sorry, Greg." I tried calling her parents ... once.
My lawyer and my routines saved me. I went alone to the college where Lisa and I were supposed to go together. I studied and practiced running and studied and practiced more. The important thing for me was that there was no empty slot in my day, nor free hour during my week. My roomie for the first year considered me totally nuts, but he didn't care since I didn't bother him. I wasn't a total hermit at that time. I was polite, and could take part in almost any conversation, if I only had time. I just made sure that I didn't have much time. Economically, everything was quite settled. By the end of my first year at college, what with the money I got from the auto insurance, plus what I got from the sale of my parents' house (the mortgage insurance company had paid off the house's loan), I was able to buy a small condo close to the college and easily have enough money for my studies, even without my scholarship. But, even though I had plenty of money, I went to work for the summer. Once again, I made sure that there were no free hours in my life.
I still remembered how things changed, totally without warning, at the beginning of my second year at college. I was supposed to have an intensive four hour lecture; but suddenly, that day's session was canceled. Normally that would not be bad, but I had just left my car to be serviced, and I had no way of getting anywhere, or picking up something interesting to do. I cursed under my breath before noticing that I wasn't the only one there. I lifted my gaze and saw the most piercing blue eyes I had ever seen. When those eyes locked into mine, all other voices became subdued, and I felt like I was locked to those eyes. I just had to follow them. I saw the look in those eyes change from curious, to amused, and then I heard her speak.
"So! You are human after all. People around here have started to wonder."
Even if I had been a hermit throughout my first year at the college, it didn't mean that I had been totally clueless about what was happening around me. I had seen her before, and I had heard her speak. Yet, when she was talking directly to me with her harmonious, almost musical voice, I could feel the spiders walking down my spine.
"Trust me, Karen, I'm quite human. Really."
Her eyes flashed and she took a hold on my hand.
"How do you know me?"
"Oh, I don't KNOW you. But the fact I have been silent and concentrating on my studies does not make me totally unobservant or indifferent. I can assure you that I know the names of almost all the pretty girls who share my classes."
After that, she didn't let me go, and for some reason I was so fascinated by her piercing blue eyes that I allowed her to do that. I still kept my distance, as I was sure that I wasn't really in shape to handle any more heartbreak; but Karen was insistent, and soon got my story out of me.
Finally, after one month of dating, we had sex. I could tell that she had been prepared to teach me but when she came down from her third big 'O' she looked at me with totally new eyes. My eyes followed her curves as I, for the first time, really looked at her body. She was almost a prototypical 'California Girl.' Dirty blond hair and slim body, with just enough curves. Her face wasn't downright model beautiful, but she was pretty, no question about that. With her being just five foot three, she was well short of my six foot plus something, but it allowed her to wear high heels any time she felt that way.
By Thanksgiving she had decided that it was time for me to meet her parents for the first time. She had already informed them that she was dating me, and that yes it was serious. She had warned me that they might be a bit chilly towards me, but I guess that neither of us was prepared for what followed. As soon as we got there, we were introduced to a young man who was 'full of promise, ' as her father said. The jerk started courting Karen, totally ignoring my presence. The final insult was that there was no place setting for me at their table. Karen was fuming, the jerk was smirking, and I was polite. I gave Karen's parents one more reason to be thankful, as I left their home; after hugging, kissing, and saying goodbye to Karen.
Back at my own condo I was angry at myself for letting my shield down. I shut down my phone and went on a run for an hour, despite the dreadful weather. Once back at home, I nuked some leftovers I'd had in my freezer. It was after midnight when I heard a car stop in front of the building, and a few moments later I heard the front door open. Karen was standing there with her hair tangled and with two big bags.
"Greg, can I move in?"
After a series of hugs and kisses, she told me how her parents had totally ignored her comments, and just kept pushing that jerk who had been there towards her. She struggled through the dinner but the final straw had been when the jerk had tried to come to her bed, after she had gone to sleep. She had kicked him in his nuts, hard! The result had been a yelling contest between her and her parents. Then she had packed her things and called a cab.
We had been living together ever since for two and a half years now; and the only really rough spot had been her parents, who just could not accept me. They were furious when we announced our engagement a few months ago. Karen had told me that it didn't matter, since she loved me. She had inherited some money from her grandparents; but I still felt a whole lot better, now that I was able to bring some serious money of my own to our household. Most probably her parents would still not like me, but now they'd at least need a different excuse! I smiled a bit at that thought. Luckily for me they had mostly ignored us lately, but I could feel that they were still occasionally putting some pressure on Karen.
I was humming to myself when I got home, early, with a bunch of flowers and a bottle of good Californian sparkling wine. I knew that it was quite a cliché, but I just wanted to have something with me when I felt that we had a reason to celebrate.
I was slightly surprised to see Karen's car already there, but the real surprise was waiting in our bedroom where one of the golden boys her father liked so much was pounding Karen forcefully. He was grunting, and she had her eyes closed; but there no sign of any kind of forcing.
The coldness I felt in my chest reminded me of the day I'd heard about my parents death. I closed the door silently behind me and left the flowers and bottle on the kitchen table.
Fifteen minutes later, I had arranged a new meeting with my lawyer I had just met. One hour later I had a new cell phone, with a new number. Two hours later I had a temporary residence, and three hours later I had accepted the offer to work overseas. A day before I had laughed at the offer of working on an international charity's project with a small pay. Now I was hanging on it like a drowning man clutching a straw.
Edited by Jmadd and JIM7, final review by DaveT