Chapter 32: Morning Coffee With Karen

Apparently my body had other ideas, and the next thing I remember was hearing Barney’s toenails clicking on the floor downstairs. I found my watch and it was past eight-thirty. I’ve got to walk the dog. I’ve got to shower. I’ve got to make coffee.

Karen was still sleeping, so I gathered my clothes quietly and crept to the bathroom and took a quick shower and brushed my teeth. I carried my shoes downstairs and told Barney we’d go for a walk in a minute. Sometimes I think he’s smarter than he looks, because he sat down quietly by the door and waited for me to finish putting the coffee on and tying my shoes.

I grabbed the leash and plastic bags and out we went. Pleasantly cool at this hour of the day, and Barney wanted to run, but I didn’t, so he kept pulling at the leash. Eventually he found a satisfactory tree to pee on, and piece of lawn edge to leave a calling card. I picked it up in the plastic bag, and we headed home.

Barney wanted to do another turn, but I was having none of it. “We’ll go out again later,” I said, and he did the equivalent of a shoulder shrug for a dog, and lay down on his bed while I fixed his food.

Right. Food. I suppose we have to eat. I can scramble eggs and make toast. There’s some fruit, and she likes fruit. So I made the preparations but didn’t cook it yet. I made her a coffee -- I remembered how she took it from other times at the cafe -- and carried hers and mine upstairs.

She was still asleep, but I could see that she was waking up because her body shifted and twitched. The coffee smell must have reached her, and she stretched languidly under the sheet.

She’s even beautiful with morning bed hair. Another check-mark in the positive column. The only thing in the negative column so far was ‘too many vegetables’, but I guess I could live with that.

“You made coffee? I can smell it.”

I took the coffee cup from the nightstand and handed it to her.

“And I don’t have to go downstairs to get it? Even better.”

I put my pillow up against the headboard and got onto the bed beside her. I took my coffee cup from the nightstand and took a swallow. “I’ll be human any moment now. Gimme a sec.”

“Even in your non-human form, Carter, you still make a decent cup of coffee.”

“Thanks. You sleep okay, strange bed and all?”

“I slept the best I have in months. I was out like a light and when I woke up again this morning I was full of energy.”

“And I’m sure I’ll feel the same way after a shot of vitamin B-12 and a pint or two of blood plasma. You did a number on me last night, Karen.”

“I did a number on you? Tom, listen, I said I was going try to tell you what happened to me. And I still haven’t thought it through yet, but first impressions, okay?

I nodded.

She took a breath to collect her thoughts. “I told you before, after the first time we slept together, that I had set my expectations low, for something pleasant but unremarkable. And that I was perfectly okay with that, because then I could say I’d done it and knew what to expect and could move on with the rest of my life without that curiosity about it hanging over me.

“And instead of ‘okay’ it was ‘very good’, in fact way better than that. So many orgasms, and I didn’t know I was capable of that, and they were stronger than the ones I have when I’m playing with myself.

“But the biggest surprise, that first time, was the connection I felt, the, I dunno, emotional link or something like that. When girls are talking about sex, not once have I ever heard one say, ‘I’m looking forward to the emotional connection’, or anyone say that they’d ever encountered it.

“So when it happened to me I was surprised and a little frightened by it, not because it was scary but because it was so profound and I was afraid that it wouldn’t happen again, that it was a one-time thing, a fluke. I think I told you that, that it was one of the reasons I was reluctant to jump right in again.”

I nodded again, and let her talk. She took another sip of coffee before she started again.

“So it was a surprise -- no, a joy -- to find that it happened again last night, that I felt that closeness, that connection, especially when we came together. That was so special, and it made my heart leap when it happened.” She reached out and put her hand on mine.

“Poets talk about that stuff,” she said, “when they write about love, two bodies becoming one, two minds joining together for a brief moment. I always thought it was poetic hyperbole, an excess invented to make us aspire to some ideal of love.

“But it turns out, at least in some limited cases, that it’s true. I felt it with you. I know that sounds a little sappy, but there it is.” She took another sip.

“And the other surprising thing about last night ... I wish I had thought this through, this is hard to explain. The first time we slept together, I was surprised by the range of orgasms that I had, not just the number of them.

“There were some little ones that were just delightful, little bursts of pleasure that came and were gone. And there were some middle-size ones that left me catching my breath.

‘And then a few huge, mind-bending, crashing orgasms that made me collapse, drained me, washed over me like I was being tossed about in a rushing river and helpless.

“And last night, it was the same range and strength of orgasms, but it was like I was more relaxed and I trusted you more. They built up more slowly and I felt like I was riding a wave on a surfboard, swooping up and down.

“But this time there was a kind of a warmth underlying it, even before I came. And whenever an orgasm would take me up and drop me, I felt like I fell right back onto that warmth. Am I making any sense, or am I just rambling?”

“Yes, it makes sense,” I said. “I’m surprised that you’re able to articulate something so abstract and ephemeral so clearly. Go on.”

But inside I was pumping my fist and shouting “Yes!” because that’s the feeling I had been aiming for.

“Well, that’s really it,” she said. “It was better than the first time, and the first time was great. The best part was that I felt that connection again. I was so afraid that it was going to be one and done.”

She took another sip of coffee, hers almost done. I swallowed the last of mine.

“So I wasn’t imagining it,” I said, “that Vulcan mind meld thing at the end. I was a little afraid to bring it up, that you’d think I was making it up. There was a brief moment there when it felt like I was inside your head looking out, feeling what you were feeling, that we were connected, like I could almost read your mind.

“It came and went quickly, which is why I thought I imagined it, maybe the orgasm was distorting my senses. But it felt so real, and so beautiful and so other-worldly.”

She looked at me and said, “It would be nice to think it was true, wouldn’t it? And nice if it didn’t only happen during sex.”

“Karen, if you could look into my mind, you’d want to run off and call a cleaning service. You’d be telling me “That’s disgusting. Don’t you ever dust in here? Why do you leave your dirty underwear on the floor?” No, it’s really better if this only happens infrequently.”

She patted my hand. “I’d have you straightened out in no time. Trust me.”

“You want some breakfast? I pulled out makings for scrambled eggs and there’s some fruit and toast.”

“I haven’t seen this side of you before, Carter. This I have to observe first hand. While I have another cup of coffee. I’ll meet you downstairs. I need to brush my teeth.”

I went downstairs and was met by Barney wearing a hopeful look. “Later, Barn.” He slunk off back to his bed. I put bread in the toaster and heated up the pan with some oil. I dropped in the eggs and stirred them occasionally while I cut up fruit.

The eggs only took a couple of minutes to cook, and I scooped them onto plates as Karen came in and sat down. She was still dressed in her robe, which I considered a hopeful sign.

I placed a plate in front of her with the toast and eggs, and another plate with cut-up fruit. I got the carafe and poured more coffee for her. And me.

“I think there’s some jam in the fridge,” I said.

“Maybe in a bit,” she replied between mouthfuls. “I was really hungry all of a sudden.”

“I can make more if you want. Won’t take but a minute.”

“Hold off. Is there a bit more coffee?”

There was, just a little. I watched her finish her fruit and coffee. I imagined waking up to this every morning, then shook it off. That’s a few years down the road, if she hasn’t tired of me by then. I’ll enjoy what we have for now.

We still had a few hours. I thought about the look of bliss on her face as she rode me last night, trying to recall the details. I linkcast her a feeling of happiness and contentment, and closeness to me.

I still didn’t know how long these things lasted, but I wanted her to remember these feelings and associate them with me.

“Did you say there was some jam?” she asked.

I got up and looked in the fridge, and found raspberry jam and orange marmalade, and put them on the table.

“Oh, this is really decadent. I almost never have sweets, and I am suddenly in the mood.”

I smiled at her. She’d have to leave in a couple of hours, and I would be missing her almost immediately, and not just the sex. True, I wanted her one more time. I didn’t need to channel an erection stimulus, I already had one beginning. I wondered if she had thought any more about the unfulfilled items on our lists, specifically the anal.

I channeled some increased sensitivity and a tingling in her butt, and linkcast a desire for something in her ass. I had no idea if any of this would work, I was just grasping at straws.

She leaned back in her chair and stretched with a satisfied sigh. “That was lovely, Tom. Yesterday and today was lovely.” She reached out and took my hand.

“You said you like watching me cum, and I realized after you said it that I love watching you, too, when I’m going down on you, or riding you or doing anything to you, I love seeing your responses. You’re so cute.”

“Cute is not the adjective I was hoping for, Karen. Handsome would work. Or debonair, or dashing. I’d settle for hunk, but cute?”

“Oh, c’mon, cute has nothing to do with all the other adjectives that describe you. You’re certainly handsome enough. I don’t think debonair and dashing are the right words to describe you, those depict more of an external characteristic.

“Your strengths are internal, your character, your loyalty, the way you care for your friends and family, your intelligence and your respect for the ideas and intelligence of others, your desire to see everyone safe and happy.

“That’s what I think of when I see you. I said you’re cute because your face opens up, just like a child’s, and shows all its emotions when I’m doing those things to you. It’s so sweet.”

“Thank you. But I’m still holding out for dashing. I’ll work on it.”

“My back is hurting from leaning over, Tom. Pull your chair back a little.”

I did, and she got up and moved over to sit on my lap. She put one arm around my shoulder to keep her balance.

“Okay, that’s a little better. Listen, I wanted to add a few thoughts to what I was trying to explain earlier. First, this whole -- how I hate this word, but I can’t think of another right now -- this whole deflowering process is a little scary, especially for people like me who are so rational and analytical. We’re always second-guessing ourselves, wondering if we’re doing the right thing.

“And I was second-guessing, too, right up to the time when you first started making love to me, before we even had intercourse. You were so sweet and concerned about how I was feeling and wanting to make sure I was enjoying the process.

“I realized that this could have been so different if I had chosen someone else, that it might have been more like I had imagined it, a quick screw until he gets off, then he’s out the door to brag to his friends.

“You went out of your way to make me feel special, to show me how to enjoy my body and ... and share it, yeah, that’s the word, to share ourselves with each other.”

She leaned down and kissed me. “And I can’t get over the way you make my body soar and fly, and float on this sea of pleasure. And whenever I come down I look out and you’re there checking to make sure I’m all right, and to assure me you’re still with me. That makes me feel so desired and loved. I just wanted to thank you for that.”

“You’re going to make me cry, Sunderland. Thank you for telling me that, but I don’t think I did anything anyone else wouldn’t have done.”

“You’re wrong, Tom. You forget I’ve been listening to all my girlfriends and their big sisters complain for years about their boyfriends. They all say the same thing, guys sweet talk you so they can get in your pants for a quick fuck, then they go back to whatever they were doing, hanging out with their buddies, playing video games, watching football. You’re the exception, Carter, so rare that I ought to write you up for some sociology journal.”

“Oh, do, please, I’ll be the envy of all my friends. None of them have been in a sociology journal before.”

“Joke away, Tom. You are a rare bird, and I’m not letting you out of my sight.”

All my antennas are up and quivering now. What was she saying here? I waited for her to go on, but she didn’t.

“Karen, I’m not making light of this, joking aside. I am amazed and happy that I had that effect on you, if I interpreted you correctly. I’ve said this before, but just in case it slipped your mind, you make me happy when I’m with you, even apart from the sex, I love talking with you, trading ideas, listening to you laugh, learning the things that excite you and annoy you. I feel like you understand me.

“The past few months in school, when you were so wrapped up in your schoolwork that you didn’t have time for anything else, I felt lost, like my best friend had moved away. I’m glad you’re back.”

“Yeah, me too.” She leaned down and kissed me again, this time a little longer. She put her head beside mine and rested her chin on my shoulder.

“This is what I like, Carter, this kind of closeness where you feel you can tell each other anything.” She turned her head and nibbled on my earlobe. I shivered.

“Don’t start something you can’t finish, Karen. A little more of that and I’m going to toss you onto the kitchen table and have my way with you. Or maybe the stairs. Have you ever done it on the stairs?”

“No, but this is interesting. Maybe you could pass me a pencil and a piece of paper, and I’ll start a list.”

“You have a dirty mind, Karen. I admire that in a person.”

“As intriguing and athletic as sex on the kitchen table sounds, it will frighten the dog. I’d hate myself. I think we should move upstairs. That’s where my clothes are anyway.”

“No sense of adventure. That’s what’s wrong with today’s youth. Very well, upstairs it is.” And I channeled a little more sensitivity in the butt and a finger lightly rubbing her G-spot.

I put the dishes in the sink and headed upstairs behind her. Barney raised his head hopefully, but I said, “No, Barney.”

She turned her head and looked at me with a raised eyebrow, questioning. “Oh, Barney wanted a threesome. I said no. He has no sense of boundaries.”

She laughed and continued up the stairs, while I shamelessly watched her butt wiggling under the robe.

In the bedroom she wrapped her arms around my neck and looked into my eyes with a hint of playfulness. “What’s on your mind, Carter?”

I wrapped my arms around her waist and pulled her in. “You’re on my mind, Karen.” I leaned in and kissed her, trying to make it meaningful.

I guess it worked because she kissed back a little harder. I linkcast her the Foundation image to relax her and heighten her pleasure, then I dropped my hands to her butt and squeezed.

She pulled her lips off mine to catch her breath. While she pulled back I reached up and untied the knot in the belt of her robe so it fell open. I slipped my hands under the robe and wrapped my arms around her now bare waist.

“Have I mentioned, Karen, how I love the feel of your skin under my hands. Even when you’re dressed. It’s so smooth and it’s like it’s electrically charged. It makes my hands vibrate.”

“That’s sweet, Tom. It means either that you’re very attracted to me, or maybe just that you need to cut way back on your caffeine intake.”

“No, I’m pretty sure it’s the former. Yes, definitely the former.”

I dropped my hands onto her ass again and fondled and squeezed her ass cheeks, which felt wonderful, firm and elastic. I got my fingers closer to the crack in her ass and spread them apart and she drew in her breath.

“You know you’ve got a pretty fantastic ass, Karen. Just in case it never came up in conversation.”

“I don’t recall you mentioning it before, but thank you. And that feels really nice.”

“Funny, I was thinking exactly the same thing. Isn’t it wonderful how our minds think alike?”

I let a finger drop into her ass crack and brush over her asshole and linkcast her increased arousal.

“I don’t know why my butt is so sensitive now, but I like what you’re doing.”

I leaned down and kissed her again, with a little tongue, and gently pushed the finger on her asshole until it popped in, just to the first knuckle. She sucked in her breath and made a sound in her throat which might have been an “Oooo.”

It was hard to tell because our tongues were wrapped around each other. But just in case it was, I pushed it in and out a few more times, slowly and felt her start to squirm.

I pulled my lips away and said, “Am I hurting you, or is this something you like?”

“I think it feels good, a little weird but nice.”

“The position’s a little awkward. Why don’t you bend over the bed and rest your arms on it. I think I’d really like to examine this a little closer.”

She looked a little wary, but she did, and I realized that I had underestimated my assessment of her ass. It was better than fantastic.

I’d revise my report later, but now I dropped to my knees and began planting kisses all over her ass, with some tongue added in especially interesting areas. She was still squirming, and I thought this was a good time to peek into her epicenter.

The increased sensitivity and tingling in her butt that I had channeled were still there and she was loving the attention to her ass, which made her warm. But she was puzzled by the thoughts that kept sneaking in of having something in her ass.

While I was watching, I decided to try something. I put my index finger in my mouth to get it wet, then slipped it into her ass again. The effect in her mind was immediate. She was saying to herself, ‘Oh, that feels great,’ while her cultural rules were telling her no, that’s dirty and unnatural.

I took my finger out and used my tongue on her asshole, licking hard, trying to push it in. Her internal response was again, “Yes, that feels so good!”

So there was a behavioral block here, established by her cultural conditioning, that was telling her it was dirty to have things in her ass and she shouldn’t be enjoying this.

I had no idea if this would work, but I decided to try something. I linkcast her a logical analysis of her response, something she would have done on her own in due course, that said, “If it feels good to you, and doesn’t harm you or anyone else, then why should society dictate what is acceptable in our personal life?”

I channeled a trigger for the Silk orgasm, something that would happen when something entered her ass, and would increase as it went deeper. I’d make it stronger later, it was enough for now. I probed her asshole with my tongue a little longer, still monitoring her epicenter, and she was getting a little thrill at the tongue on her asshole.

I poised the finger over it, and pushed in to one knuckle. And there was the little rush of pleasure, and she went “Ooo” again.

I pulled it out slowly, and felt just a tiny bit of disappointment in her mind, so I pushed it in once more, this time two knuckles deep. This one got an “Aaahh.”

I rotated it a little in place which gave a different kind of thrill to her. I brought my other hand around and began rubbing her pussy and brushing her clit, and now she was squirming as the sensations assaulted her.

I brought my tongue in to lick at her perineum, with my two hands still busy at her clit and her asshole. She was gasping now, too many feelings pouring over her. I thought now was the time for a slightly stronger orgasm, so I modified the Silk image so that it would last longer and linkcast it to her.

Then I licked two fingers on my right hand, poised them over her asshole and pushed, slowly but firmly.

Her head shot up and she yelled, “Oh, FUCK, Carter. You bastard, that feels good, but why didn’t you let me know you were going to do that?”

I kept sliding them in and out, very slowly. “Because you would have taken time to think about it and you would have decided that it was too new and strange and you didn’t want to do it. Am I right?

She didn’t respond, but I could look into her epicenter and she was thinking that I was probably right. It did feel good, she was getting these rushes of pleasure and they felt wonderful.

“Karen, I would never do anything to hurt you, you know that. If you want me to stop at any time, just tell me and I will. I love playing with your ass because I think you like it. You tell me when you’ve had enough.”

That she read as a license to keep on doing this for awhile longer because, she rationalized, I can always tell him to stop. Maybe time for some positive reinforcement. I channeled a stronger finger on her G-spot and some increased sensitivity on her clit.

I moved my left hand so my middle finger was positioned over her clit, and started moving it back and forth, very lightly, barely touching it. It was like electrical sparks going off in her mind, these tiny bursts of intense pleasure, here and gone.

I kept moving my fingers in and out of her ass, but added a twisting of the fingers and a wiggle to the fingertips, and I could hear her say to herself, “Ah, fuck, yes, like that.” I kept that up for thirty seconds, then linkcast a Summer Breeze orgasm to her.

Her ass shot up several inches and she cried, “Tom, I’m cumming!” I pressed a little harder on her clit and increased the speed of my fingers in her ass.

She shouted, “Yes! Yesss!” and her ass went rigid for several moments, and then she slowly relaxed, breathing heavily.

“Tom, you have to stop for a minute, please, I’m too sensitive right now.”

I should have been checking on her, and I didn’t because I was too interested in watching her reaction. I’ll have to watch myself in the future. I took my hands away, and kissed her butt.

I said, “Why don’t you lie on the bed for a minute. It’ll help.” She crawled up and lay flat on her stomach. I sat on the edge of the bed and lightly rubbed her back.

I asked her, “Was that too much, Karen?”

She thought about it for a minute. “No, I don’t think so. I was having a hard time telling myself that it was okay to feel good this way, something about it felt, I dunno, not wrong, but maybe like I shouldn’t be doing it. It felt good, and it certainly made me cum.”

“I’ll say. That looked like a really nice one. I wish I could share that with you, but it seems like that only happens when we’re physically connected in some way and we cum together. Still, really wonderful to watch.

“Karen, I realized I’m still fully dressed, and I want to get naked so I can feel you next to me. Hold on for a minute.”

I pulled off my shoes and clothes, dropping them wherever they happened to land. I crawled up on the bed and lay next to her. She sighed.

“Do people really do that?”

“What? You mean fingers and things in their ass?”

“Uh-huh.”

“All the time. I’m no expert, but you know me, I’m a reader and I have an eclectic memory. Let’s see, oh, yeah, some news magazine I picked up in the library had a feature on sex in modern America, and they said that, for all the hoopla that met the new sexual openness twenty or thirty years ago, for all the porn that’s available, we still live in one of the most sexually repressive places in the world.

“Europeans in particular are much more open about sex, talking about it, experimenting with it, even watching it on television and in the movies, than we are here. There are still unstated taboos here on certain behaviors like homosexuality, group sex, and sex outside marriage, and even stuff like which sexual positions are acceptable, to say nothing of oral and anal sex.

“It’s just normal stuff to Europeans, everybody does it, assuming they’ve tried it and liked it, but their society isn’t telling them that they can’t. For some reason we’re not supposed to make up our own minds about this here. Weird, huh?”

“Yeah, it is,” she said. “Maybe that’s what I’m feeling, some kind of taboo I’ve heard somewhere. It felt pretty good, just ... new and different.”

“Karen, I don’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable with me. If you’re not ready for something like this, then perhaps another time. It’s your call.”

She lay silent for a long time, while I occupied myself productively by admiring her spine and the shape of her butt, the nice curves in her ankles, and the way the edge of her boob peeked out from under her body.

After awhile, she spoke. “You’ve just observed one of my character defects, Tom, one of the annoying idiosyncrasies that would make living with me a trial for anyone. My tendency to self-analyze, to debate internally about decisions, small and large, and the effect they might have. I like to refer to it as research and planning, but it’s a character flaw.”

“What was the debate about this time?”

“What we were talking about, Tom, whether it was okay to feel so good from a finger or something else in my butt, when my mind was telling me, “No, no.””

“I assume you made a decision, since you’re talking about it now.”

“Yeah, I did. I decided you’re right, that it’s a societal admonition based on some distant religious prohibition. I don’t know when I was exposed to it, but it must have been a pretty strong message to leave that powerful a negative response.

“I know you’d never hurt me, and you wouldn’t ask me to do something degrading or embarrassing, either. I need to push past the strident Cotton Mather voice buried in my head and behave rationally.”

“And for the duller folks here in the studio audience, what was your decision, in one sentence?”

“It’s okay to play with my ass. Just go slow so I can get used to it.”

Yessss!

“All right. You say stop whenever you want. How about we just hold each other for awhile, nibble on earlobes or something.”

“The last time I nibbled on your earlobe you practically threw me on the floor and jumped on top of me.”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right, I forgot. Okay, no earlobes. We could rub noses like Eskimos. It works for them.”

“I dunno, sounds pretty lame, Carter, but I’ll try anything once.” So we did, and she was right, it was pretty lame. But then we got to kissing, and that wasn’t lame at all. I was stroking her butt and her boobs the whole time, so I think I got the best part of the deal.

But I peeked into her epicenter while we were dueling with tongues, and I found that she was still getting a thrill when I’d grab her ass, so I concentrated there.

I finally pulled away and told her, “Karen, I want to try something that may make it feel a little less strange. Just lay here on your stomach for a moment while I get up.”

I crawled over her and got the lube out of the night table. I stood beside the bed and said, “Now I’m going to put some of this in the crack and around your asshole. It may feel a little strange going on, but it will get better.”

I poured a few drops into the crack in her ass and rubbed it in with my fingers until it felt quite slippery. Then I put a few more drops on my fingers and rubbed it around the anus, and a few more drops on my fingers and I pushed lightly at her asshole with two fingers and they slipped right in.

I didn’t go far, because I could feel her tense up. I channeled her a relaxation of the sphincter muscles and a general calmness and trust, and pulled my fingers out and slid them in again.

I peeked into her epicenter and she was calm and trying to get used to this new feeling. I channeled a reinforcement of the Silk image and watched as I slid my fingers in again, and she gave a little shiver of pleasure, but internally only.

“Now roll over, baby, onto your back, and spread your legs a little, yeah, like that.”

I closed the lube container and placed it where I could reach it, then knelt beside her and leaned down and licked her slit up and down. My right hand was pinching two fingers on either side of her clit, but not touching it directly. I could feel her anticipating what was coming, so I teased her a little and never licked her clit directly, just near it.