Chapter 1

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Heterosexual, Fiction, First, Oral Sex, Slow, .

Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - Adam, smarting a recent divorce, is renting a bungalow from a friend until he can find a permanent residence. A call to an electrician to fix a faulty outlet results in Kara showing up for the job. He discovers she has similar interests and invites her to dinner, which she reluctantly accepts. They fall in love. Adam is surprised to learn Kara is a 29-year-old virgin. At her request he deflowers her. Their love is tested when Kara suspects, despite their engaging in safe sex, she is pregnant.

The doorbell rang and Adam answered it. Standing on his porch was a woman in her late twenties. She was large in a robust rather than an obese way, her light brown hair was in a ponytail pulled through the vent of a baseball cap and she wore bib overalls over a flannel shirt. She was fastening a tool belt around her waist.

“Hullo,” she said in a soft, alto voice. “I’m Kara Lawrence of Lawrence electric.” She looked at a clipboard. “Are you Bill Wilson?”

“No. I’m Adam Gowan. Bill is my landlord.”

“Oh, okay. He called and said you have a problem with an outlet.”

“Step this way.” He led her into the kitchen and pointed to an electrical outlet along the back splash of the counter. “I was using the toaster when I heard a snap and a pop and saw smoke; then the breaker tripped.”

“Did you reset the breaker?” she asked.

“No -- I was afraid to. I ran an extension cord from the living room to power the fridge.”

She peered at the outlet. “I see some scorching...” From her belt she retrieved a screwdriver and removed the cover plate; then she removed the receptacle itself. “First time I’ve seen one of these,” she muttered. “Where’s your breaker panel?”

“Over here, in the utility room.”

Kara followed Adam into a room in the back of the house. He opened the access panel and pointed to the tripped breaker. She looked around the room. “Gas hot water heater ... electric range. Wonder why electric range but gas water heater...”

“I’d prefer gas myself,” Adam remarked.

“I have gas at home ... all the good it does me. I’m not much of a cook.” Kara removed the cover to the panel. She drew back the corner of her mouth. “Hmm...”

“That was a rather ominous hmmm ... doesn’t sound good.”

“It isn’t good. This house was built when? Late thirties?”

“I think thereabouts,” Adam replied.

“The kitchen looks like it must’ve been added on ... late sixties or early seventies. When they remodelled they upgraded the power service. And, they wired the new kitchen with aluminum.”

“Aluminum? Not copper?”

“Aluminum. For a while in the late sixties and early seventies folks started using aluminum.”

“Why?”

“Well -- copper was high at the time.”

“Like it is now.”

“Right. Nothing wrong with aluminum by itself ... in fact most of the transmission lines are aluminum. The problem is with the receptacles -- they’re designed for copper. The aluminum reacts with the copper and the humidity in the air ... causes corrosion. You get a resistive connection which heats up...”

“Until ... zorch!” Adam remarked.

“Right. The smart thing to do is to rip out the aluminum and replace it with copper.”

“Re-wire the whole kitchen? That sounds like a project.”

“Oh, it is...” She regarded the panel. “Looks like four breakers are feeding aluminum-wired circuits. This double-gang is for the range and the singles are for the receptacles, lighting and dishwasher. The rest of the breakers feed copper ... must be the older part of the house. Do you have a basement?”

“Under the older part. The kitchen is just on a slab.”

“Attic?”

“Yes, there’s a full attic.”

“I’d like to take a look.”

“Over here.” Adam procured a footstool and then opened a panel in the ceiling. He extended a collapsible ladder. He watched Kara disappear into the opening and then heard her footfalls above the ceiling.

She climbed down the ladder. “Let’s take a look behind the range,” she said. “Can you give me a hand with it?”

“Sure...”

Together they eased the range away from the wall. “I’ll have to clean before we put that back,” he remarked.

Kara removed the cover plate to the range outlet. “Some scorching here, too.”

“What do we do?”

“Replace the wiring,” she replied. “The tough nut will be the receptacles since they’re daisy-chained together. The range, lighting and dishwasher shouldn’t be too difficult.”

“How big a job is it?”

“Oh ... Probably a couple of days.”

“Sounds expensive.”

Kara looked toward the ceiling. “I’d say between two thousand and twenty-five hundred.”

“Bill’s not going to like that.”

“He really doesn’t have a choice. The way it stands is a fire hazard. If we had a fire and the fire marshal determines aluminum wiring is the cause ... and if the insurance company learns Bill knew about it -- they could deny the claim.”

“You wouldn’t rat him out ... would you?”

“I wouldn’t volunteer anything but if they asked me, I wouldn’t lie. If you’ll excuse me I need to make a phone call.”

Kara headed for the cab of a large panel van with Lawrence Electric painted on its side. Shortly she returned. “Well ... better get started.”

“Bill agreed?”

“I explained that there’s no half-way to do it. A repair like this is gonna need a permit ... which means it’s gonna need to be inspected.”

“He may need to cancel his vacation plans,” Adam remarked. “Oh well ... the joys of being a landlord. Can I give you a hand with anything?”

“Oh, I can manage.”

“Then, I’ll get out of your way,” Adam said. “I have some work to do.”

“You work at home?”

“Yeah ... I’m a free-lance software consultant. You won’t need to shut off power to the rest of the house -- will you?”

She shook her head. “No ... shouldn’t need to do that.”


Adam strolled into his kitchen. Kara was on her knees behind the range. “How are we doing?” he asked.

“Oh ... I have the lights done and I’m working on the range.”

“I was going to heat up something for lunch but seeing the range is out of commission ... Kara -- do you have lunch plans?”

“I was going to work through,” she replied.

“I thought I’d drive over to the Sub Station for a sandwich. Could I get one for you?”

“Oh ... Sure. Ham and cheese.”

“Toppings?”

“The works. Thanks.”

“I’ll be right back.”

“Did I block you in with my truck?”

“I can get out.”

Adam returned carrying a paper bag. He took a couple plates from a cabinet and set them on the kitchen table. “Soda?”

“Do you have anything diet?” she asked.

“I have only diet.” He held up a can from his fridge.

“Sure,” she replied. “Let me wash my hands...”

She sat across from him and unwrapped her sandwich. Adam regarded the ceiling. “You said you did the lights already?”

“That’s right -- they were pretty easy.”

“That track lighting really dates the kitchen as early seventies.”

“I have a seventies kitchen at home,” she said between bites. “Complete with avocado green refrigerator and dishwasher.”

“They still run?”

“The dishwasher is starting to show its age. They built them to last back then.”

“Not like today...” He regarded her. Kara had a round face with apple cheeks, full lips and a slightly crooked nose. She was a large woman, big boned but fit and her hands were almost the size of Adam’s. “Tell me,” he said, “how did you decide to become an electrician? It seems an unusual career for a woman.”

“There are a few of us. I learned it from my dad. Once I was out of high school I assisted him ... got my certificate. When he passed I inherited his business.”

“When did he pass away?” Adam asked.

“Three years ago. He had pancreatic cancer.”

“Kara -- that must’ve been heartbreaking.”

“Oh, it was. He was able to carry on for a few of years after the diagnosis, but then he declined pretty rapidly.”

“I’m really sorry, Kara.”

“Now, I’m carrying on in his footsteps.” She finished her sandwich and soda. “What do I owe you for the sub?”

“Oh, it’s on me, Kara.”

“You’re sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Well, thanks. It really hit the spot. I was getting hungrier than I realized. I’m gonna try to finish the range yet today.”


Adam was in his study when he heard Kara calling his name. “In here,” he yelled and then stepped into the living room.

Kara approached him. “Well, I’m done...” Her sightline focused on an object on his wall. “Is that genuine?” she asked.

Adam took down from the wall a Civil-war era musket. “It’s a replica,” he said, of a Springfield rifled musket.”

“May I?” He handed it to her. “My dad had one just like it. When I was little he did Civil-war re-enacting.”

“Do you still have it?”

She shook her head. “After he passed, my mom sold all his re-enacting stuff. I’m sorry I don’t have it. Do you do re-enacting?”

“No -- I’m a history buff and I like target shooting. That musket is a lot of fun to shoot. I also have a replica Hawken plains rifle and a Colt Dragoon six-shooter. Did you ever shoot your dad’s musket?”

“A couple times ... only with blanks, though. He never put a slug in it. I used to help him make up cartridges for his re-enacting ... roll up newsprint and fill it with black powder.” She handed it back to him and Adam replaced it on the wall. “Anyway, I came in to say I’m done for the day. The range is wired and if you give me a hand we’ll push it back.”

“I’ll deal with it, Kara. I want to clean behind there, anyway.”

“I need to head over to City Hall for the permit and I need to pick up some supplies. I’ll be back in the morning. Is eight too early?”

“Eight is fine.”

“It’ll be a full day tomorrow,” she said. “Your disposal and dishwasher aren’t up to code, so that’ll need to be addressed. They share the same breaker. By rights each should have its own.”

“Are you going to isolate them?”

“No more room in your panel. They both have Romex just coming out of the wall. It needs to be terminated in a receptacle. I can at least bring that up to code for you.”

“See you tomorrow, Kara.”


Adam wandered into his kitchen. Kara was leaning over the counter working on one of the receptacles. She turned to face him. “Almost done,” she said.

“How are you dealing with the outlets?”

“Well ... Replacing the wiring would mean ripping out the drywall and maybe even having to remove the cabinets. Rather than go through all that, I’m using these.” She handed him an object. “It’s a copper pigtail that crimps onto the aluminum wire.”

“These are okay?”

“Oh, yes. They crimp on with a special tool ... and, you need special certification to install them.”

“Which you have.”

“Yes, I do. This job is the first time I’ve encountered aluminum wiring and had to use them, though. The crimp makes it a permanent bond and it’s sealed to keep out the humidity. I ran new copper to the first outlet in the chain and I’m installing these on the others. I’m also replacing all the receptacles with new ones.”

“What about the dishwasher and disposal?”

“Take a look.”

Adam opened the cabinet and peered under the sink. He saw the disposal had been fitted with a cord ending in a plug that was inserted into a new receptacle. “The dishwasher is like that, too?” he asked.

“Yup. I was able to put ‘em both on their own breakers.”

“I thought you said there wasn’t room in the panel.”

“There wasn’t, so I installed a twin breaker -- two breakers built into a single device.”

“Is that code compliant?” he asked.

“Oh, yes -- it’s legal. Now if you need to replace either, you won’t need an electrician or a permit to do it.

“We’d need a permit for the plumbing, wouldn’t we?”

Kara made a sly smile. “Yeah ... I keep forgetting about those guys.” She screwed the faceplate onto the receptacle. “Done. Now, you’re fully up to code. Give me a bit to put away my tools and all.”

He watched her collect tools, put them into a five-gallon bucket and then sweep up debris. She carried the bucket to her truck and then returned, minus her tool belt. She handed him her clipboard. “If you could sign here...”

Adam signed the paper. “I’ll be sending the invoice to Bill. You or he will need to make an appointment with the electrical inspector. The details are on this piece of paper.”

“Okay...”

“Well, Adam -- it’s been a pleasure. She turned toward the door.

“Kara -- wait. I wanted to say ... I really enjoyed having you work here. You’re pleasant and professional. I’m really impressed with the quality of the work you did here.”

She smiled. “Thanks...”

“I was wondering, Kara ... Are you attached? Do you have a boyfriend ... husband ... significant other?”

“Why do you want to know?”

“Someone gave me a gift certificate for dinner at the Reef Inn. It’s going to expire soon and it’s not a place I’d go to alone. I was wondering if you’d be able to ... like to ... be willing to ... accompany me.”

“Tonight?”

He shrugged “Tonight ... or...”

“I’m single. I appreciate the offer, Adam. To tell the truth, right now I’m sweaty and exhausted. I was going to pick up something for dinner, heat it in the microwave, and then take a hot bath and go to bed.”

“How about tomorrow, then?” He looked into her light brown eyes. “You don’t work on Saturdays, do you?”

“I do my errands on Saturdays.” Kara regarded him for a long moment; then she smiled. “All right. Tomorrow. Where is this inn?”

“It’s out in the country -- a bit of a drive. The Reef Inn is an old stagecoach stop on a bend of the river. In olden days they served both the stage and river traffic ... rented out rooms and served meals. Now, it’s only a restaurant, but they have an interesting menu with game items.”

“Game?”

“Pheasant, rabbit ... frog’s legs. Of course they have your standard beef, pork chicken and seafood also.”

“Sounds interesting.”

“Can I pick you up?”

“Why don’t I drive over here? What time?”

“Five. I’ll make reservations for five-thirty.”

“Okay. See you then.”


Adam saw a white, older-model Buick Le Sabre pull into his driveway. He watched as Kara approached, wearing a pale-blue, floral print dress. It was sleeveless, its hem came to her knees and it had a high, scoop neckline. She was bare-legged, wearing low-heeled, black shoes and gold hoop earrings. Her hair was down and framed her round face.

He opened the door and greeted her. “Is this okay?” she asked. “I don’t get out much.”

“It’s fine -- you look fine, Kara. Quite a change from yesterday, actually. Let me grab that certificate and we’ll be on our way.” He locked the front door and Kara followed him to his car, a five-year-old, metallic blue Ford Mustang.

“I’ve always liked Mustangs,” she said as she sat in the passenger seat.

“I learned to drive in one,” he replied. “For this model they returned to the classic styling.”

“I don’t understand why they think they need to change the styling. If you have something that’s good, why not stick with it?”

“My thoughts exactly.”

Kara ran her hand along the upholstery lining the door. “Someday I want to have one of these.”

Adam piloted the Mustang onto a county highway away from town and into the country.

“I don’t get out this way often,” Kara remarked. “It’s pretty.”

“I grew up out this way. When I was young it really was deserted. Now, it’s starting to fill in.”

“Yeah, I see a lot of in-fill between older properties.”

Adam pulled into the parking lot of the restaurant. “This is an interesting building,” she remarked.

“Yeah. It was built in the eighteen-twenties. The canal came through and used the river where they could. There’s a rather large ox-bow here and the river’s pretty shallow so they called it the reef. It seemed a good spot to build an inn. The packets would stop overnight here and if passengers wanted a meal or a night off of the boat, the inn provided them.”

“Interesting.”

“There was a plank road here, too and some coach traffic.”

“So, you could take the canal here and a coach to your destination,” Kara mused.

“Right. This little hamlet was quite prosperous for a while. Then, about twenty years later they built the railroad, a few miles north. That cut down on river traffic. When they enlarged the canal, they cut a channel across the oxbow and that cut down on river traffic even more. Eventually they moved the highway. The place was derelict for a while until the sixties, when the father of the current owner bought it and turned it into a restaurant.”

Adam escorted Kara inside. He spotted the owner. “Hey, Jake,” he called.

“Adam...”

“This is Kara.”

“Come on in, folks. Haven’t seen you around in a while. Heard about you and Laura ... sorry, pal.”

“It blind-sided me,” Adam replied. “I hadn’t a clue.”

Adam sat at a table and Kara sat across from him. He began scanning his menu. “Who’s Laura?” Kara asked. “If I’m not prying, that is.”

“My ex-wife. Our divorce was finalized a few months ago. That’s why I’m renting the place from Bill.” He gazed into Kara’s light brown eyes. “Came right out of the blue when I got the papers served. Figuring out how to bust up the common property was the hard part.”

“I’m really sorry, Adam.”

He shrugged. “It’s done and we move on...”

She regarded the menu. “What are you having?” she asked.

“I thought I’d try the braised guinea hen.”

“I’ve never seen guinea hen on a menu ... or frogs’ legs or tenderloin of boar...”

“When I was a kid, my folks would bring us here fairly regularly and I always ordered the frogs’ legs.”

“What are they like?”

“Tastes like chicken.”

“Maybe I’ll have the shrimp scampi.”

“I’ll see about a bottle of wine.”


Adam headed back into town. “That was a good meal,” she said. “Thanks.”

“Well, I had the gift certificate ... Would you go back there, sometime?”

“Yes, I would. I liked the ambiance, the food was excellent and the place has an interesting history.”

“That it does. I prefer places with history. I think you do, too.” He pulled into his driveway. “Care to come in for an after-dinner drink? It’s not too late.”

“Okay, but make it a short one since I’m driving.”

Adam found a pair of glasses. He took some ice from his refrigerator. “The toaster is working much better after your repairs,” he remarked.

“You were losing power in those resistive joints,” she replied. “It was causing a voltage drop.”

He handed her a glass and clinked his rim to hers. “Cheers.”

She sipped. “What is this?”

“It’s my special-recipe Manhattan.”

“It’s so smooth. I can tell it’s strong, but there’s no burn at all. My dad used to make Manhattans ... but he made them with bourbon. This doesn’t taste like bourbon.”

“This is half rye and half cognac,” he replied.

“It is really good.” She sipped hers. “Tell me about your business, Adam.”

“Like I said -- I’m an independent software consultant. I have developed some tools that help me put together systems quickly and that are flexible enough so my clients don’t need a programming staff.”

“Sounds interesting...” She wandered toward the wall and regarded the musket hanging there.

“Kara -- are you doing anything tomorrow?”

“Oh ... Sundays are my day to spend with my mom. We go to church and she makes dinner for the two of us ... sometimes she has friends visit.”

“Your mom is doing okay?”

“Oh, yeah ... Dad had some insurance and that helped. She’s out working, part time in the local card shop. The patrons are mostly friends she knows.”

“Do you have siblings?” he asked.

“I have a brother, Karl. Dad wanted him to follow in the business, but Karl had none of it.”

“What’s he doing now?”

“He’s a CPA and an actuary, working for an insurance company in Chicago. We don’t see much of him -- but he does help me with my taxes.”

“How about next Saturday?” he asked. “Could we get together then?”

“What did you have in mind?”

He looked up at the musket. “I belong to a rod and gun club out by The Reef ... I’m a life member. I haven’t been there in a while, but I thought it might be fun to take the musket and do some target shooting with it.”

“Hmmm ... It might be fun.”

“Weather permitting, that is.”

“Right. I have errands to run on Saturdays but I probably could have them out of the way by noon or so.”

“We could stop somewhere for lunch and then head to the range.”

“Okay...” She drained her glass. “Well -- I had better be on my way. Thanks for dinner, Adam. I had a good time.”

“So did I.”

For the rest of this story, you need to Log In or Register

Story tagged with:
Ma/Fa / Consensual / Heterosexual / Fiction / First / Oral Sex / Slow /