Chapter 1

Karen drank the last sip of wine and stared at the bottom of the glass. A tear ran down the side to dilute the last remaining drop. She sighed and settled lower in the bath, the water already growing cool.

"So this is depression," she thought. "I had to fall in love to find out what it means to feel sorrow. Damn you, Pete!"

But was it really Pete's fault? He hadn't forced her to sleep with him. He was just being the dog he always was, grabbing some pussy were he could. Karen wondered how many times she had turned down his advances and laughed at him for his useless persistence? How many times had she overheard other women at the office burn him down?

"Damn him!," she thought, "I hadn't thought about Gene all day. I was going to make it without crying."

The phone had rung just as she entered the house with groceries. "Hey Babe," Pete had said, when he heard her voice. "I missed you at the office."

"You didn't miss me, I was avoiding you," she had replied. "Why are you calling me when I asked you not to? Don't you think I'm serious?"

He had laughed that annoying laugh and replied, "Of course you're not serious. We're magic together, and now that the pretty-boy is out of the way, there's no reason we shouldn't be a couple, or do you enjoy being all alone in that empty house?"

That stung, much more than he had intended. She was lonely, but she would never again be desperate enough to spend another intimate moment with the likes of Pete Fine, and she had told him so.

He had chuckled again, perhaps a bit less sure of himself and replied, "Just keep in mind that I'm here for you when you come to your senses, but don't wait too long. There are plenty of other girls out there who want Mr. Fine."

"And all of them over twelve-years-old already know about you," she had said, just before she hung up the phone.

That was when the silence had set in. The house had never seemed so quiet when Gene lived there. That was when she turned the stereo on, loud, and opened the bottle of Chianti'. Now that the bottle was empty, and the bath water cold, she could no longer hide from her feelings of loneliness. The radio station had changed to its nighttime format, blues, and the crooning of great, dead bluesmen, was slowly killing her. She pressed the OFF button and pulled the towel tighter about her nude body as she stumbled toward the bedroom.

She had moved all her things to the guest-room, no longer able to bare sleeping in a place so full of memories of him. Karen walked by and glanced into the master bedroom. Love had slept there, played there, and finally, died there. She could blame no one but herself. She leaned against the doorjamb and remembered.

What was it? A month ago, she had become suspicious of Gene's behavior. Yes, it was a week before her birthday. He had begun lying to her. He said he was working late at the job site, but when she called to have him bring home something from the grocery, she learned he had left early. A couple of times she had walked into a room to find him talking and laughing quietly on the phone. Gene had hung up quickly and never mentioned with whom he'd been talking.

When Tracy, Karen's sister, had come over on Wednesday, she mentioned his odd behavior. Tracy had laughed and told her she was imagining things, that there never had been a man more devoted to a woman than was her fiancé. Karen had wanted to believe her words, but something in the way Tracy acted, told her she knew something she wasn't telling. That was when she had decided to follow Gene from work.

It was easy enough. She had asked off early from work, and had borrowed a friend's car, so there was no reason Gene would notice her. She had watched him leave work and followed him through light traffic to a part of town she knew well. She had grown up there. He pulled into a driveway and parked. She recognized the house with the "for sale" sign in the yard, and she knew the utility vehicle parked next to his truck. The house was her parents first home, now on the market, the SUV belonged to Tracy.

As Karen sat idling on the street, her sister appeared on the porch and with a yell, ran to Gene and hugged him. Laughing, she dragged him toward the house. If she hadn't already had the cheap disposable camera to her eye, Karen might have missed the snapshot that proved Tracy's betrayal.

Tears stung her eyes as she made her way back to the office. She left the keys to her friend's car under the floor-mat and got into her own, but she couldn't bring herself to start for home. The tears became sobs that shook her. She cried until she was dry and sat staring at nothing.

Someone tapped on her window. It was Pete, he actually looked concerned.

"Hey Beautiful, what's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," she answered. "I've just had a bad day."

"Sorry to hear that. Why don't we grab a drink and talk about it?"

He sounded sincere, which was strange for him. Maybe she had misjudged him. She agreed. There was no need to go straight home, no one was waiting for her. She followed him to the bar, and an hour and five drinks later, she was certain he was the kindest and funniest person she had ever met. When he suggested she come home with him, she thought it a good idea. She needed to forget her problems for a while, and was enjoying the attention he was giving her.

As soon as she walked in at his door, she started laughing. His apartment was an interior-decorator's nightmare. There were large, comfortable leather chairs, a love-seat that matched nothing, an ugly green sofa, gaudy, stained-glass lamps and everywhere, pictures of scantily clad women. He made her a drink at an antique dry-bar and pushed sports magazines off the sofa so she could sit. Pete sat much too close to her and put his arm around her shoulders. She didn't want to offend him by complaining.

He had a state-of-the-art entertainment center with a remote and soon it was playing soft rock themes from the eighties. He had turned his home into what he considered to be a perfect make-out pad, and she laughed as she told him so.

"Do you ever actually score with this crap?" Karen asked him.

"Are you kidding?" he asked with a grin. "One look at this place and women start shedding their clothes. They can't help themselves. You must be too smashed to be affected."

"Doubtless," she laughed. "You know, Pete, I was wrong about you. You're a great guy, even if you fashion sense is atrocious."

"You think this is wild, you should see my bedroom," he offered.

"Wilder than this?"

"See for yourself."

Karen followed him into the next room. He hadn't exaggerated. No sultan's harem ever boasted a boudoir so extravagantly decorated. There were silk tapestries, oriental porcelain figurines, mostly nudes, marble-topped furniture and a large screen television, but the centerpiece was a very large, very ornate bed.

"My God!" she exclaimed. "This is... I don't even have words for this."

She burst out in laughter. He smiled and lay down across the bed. She sat down beside him, looking about in amazement at the overdone decor. When her gaze wondered to the big-screen, she asked him why he needed something like that in his bedroom?

He climbed off, piled some pillows against the headboard and said she should make herself comfortable. Karen slipped her shoes off and moved against the pillows, while he did something with the TV. He removed his shoes and climbed on beside her. Soon a picture appeared on the screen. Seconds later, a nude couple appeared, already engaged in strenuous sex play. Karen had tried to watch pornographic videos before, but always ended up covering her face and groaning in disgust. For some reason, in her alcohol elevated mood, she found the skin-flick more amusing than dreadful.

"Damn. How can you watch this?" she asked him. "Listen... the moans and groans aren't even coming from them, and that music, it's hideous."

"I'm not an art critic," he replied. "Besides, I just want to see people enjoying sex. I think it's kind of interesting to try and tell if they're faking the fun. Look at her face. Is she having an orgasm, or is she pretending? I can't tell. I thought maybe you could, since you'd know more about it."

Karen shook her head saying, "Looks real enough to me, but then, I've never seen a woman having one. I've only had them myself. I wonder if my face turns red and twists up like that."

"There's only one way to find out," he said, "You have to watch yourself having sex in a mirror, like that one."

He was pointing at the ceiling, and sure enough, there was a huge mirror over the bed.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed, "Yon can see right down my dress. Why didn't you warn me?"

"Why would I do that?" he asked with a wicked grin. "I was enjoying the view."

She slapped his arm, without any real animosity. She actually felt a bit flattered. Looking up, she pulled out her bodice, pleased at how full her breasts looked, from this angle. She thought the happy look on his face was funny.

"Yeah, that's a great chest you've got," he commented, staring up. "Nearly as good as your legs."

"You think the legs are better?" she asked, coyly.

She raised her hem and watched her thighs slowly revealed in the mirror. She stopped just short of her crotch, and laughed as he groaned in disappointment.

"Oh come on," she chided, "You can't expect me to just show you my panties like that, can you?"

"I'm a thirsty man in the desert, and you just knocked the canteen out of my hand," he complained.

"But you haven't seen my bra yet," she said. "I like to do these things in order. First the bra, then the panties."

"Okay, show me the bra."

"I didn't hear the magic word."

He thought for a moment, then asked, "Please?"

She grinned and leaned forward so he could reach her zipper. He drew it down to the small of her back, then watched in rapt attention as she removed the dress from her upper body.

After staring at the way the garment snugly fit her chest, he swore it was the nicest bra he'd ever seen, then he glanced down at the narrow strip of fabric between her legs, which matched the beige color of her bra.

"But you're still more interested in my panty," she said, pretending disappointment. "You don't know how difficult it is to find a bra that's pretty and fits like it should."

"I'm sure you're right," he agreed. "I can't help it. I've always wondered how you'd look in only your panties."

"Is it the panties you want to see, or what's underneath them?"

"Oh, the panties, of course," he replied quickly. "I'd never dream of asking to see your pussy."

Karen was enjoying this game. It was kind of like being back in highschool when the girls would dare each other to show more and more of their bodies to watching boys, until someone chickened out. Back then, she lost most of the contests, but she was more comfortable with her body now. She rose from the bed long enough to let her dress drop to the floor, then laughed at the look of amazement on his face and returned to the bed.

He whistled and said, "I never would have guessed you were the type to wear a thong. I thought, cotton high-rise, or bikinis, or maybe those big mamas women wore way back when. I've got to tell you, I'm impressed."

"I wear bikinis sometimes," she admitted, "But I usually wear these with tight pants and dresses because they don't show a panty line."

"I hadn't thought about that," he admitted "Well, I've learned something. Hey, let me see the back of them... uh... please?"

Karen laughed and said, "Since you ask so nicely."

She turned over, exposing her bare asscheeks with the narrow strip of beige satin running between them.

"That's beautiful," he said enthusiastically, and she felt his fingers slide beneath the seat strap and move all the way to her crotch.

She glanced over her shoulder, then looked up at his reflection, as he paused and stared for too long at the flesh beneath his fingers.

"I didn't say you could touch," she admonished him.

"Oh... right," he said and removed the offending digits.

She turned over and sat up saying, "Now it's your turn. I showed you mine, now show me yours."

He hesitated for a moment, then smiled and climbed from the bed saying, "Well, I hope you're not disappointed. They aren't as fancy as yours."

He quickly removed his tie, and his shirt, then turned away from her and slowly eased his pants down. His ass was bare. When he dropped his trousers and turned around, his half-hard and uncircumcised dick waved at her. She yelped in surprise and covered her face. She felt the bed move as he climbed on beside her. Karen removed her hands to see if he'd replaced his pants. He hadn't.

"Oh damn!" she swore and averted her eyes, but saw his organ reflected from the ceiling. "I can't believe this. You don't wear underwear?"

Karen looked away toward the television, but there was an even more impressive tool shown there in close detail, being sucked by a blond with huge tits. She decided she was being silly. He obviously wasn't embarrassed to show it to her, why should she be hesitant to look at it? So she glanced at it, then stared. As she watched, it was growing. Shortly, even though it still wasn't completely taunt, it was the largest she'd ever seen. Not that she'd seen that many.

"Impressive," she commented, trying to sound aloof, but she was sure he noticed the way she had to swallow before she spoke.

"Well, I had to have one thing going for me," he said, almost sadly. "I'm not the best looking guy in the world, and you already know I can be obnoxious when I'm not thinking. I guess I drive women away."

"You're not that bad," she remarked, feeling a touch of piety for him. She patted his arm and said, "Maybe you try a little too hard. Women don't want to think all they are to you is pussy."

"You're right, I have a real problem with my attitude. It's not what I'm thinking, but it sounds like what I'm thinking, if that makes any sense? I blame my dad, he treated women like shit. Guess I spent too much time with him."

"I'm just glad I was wrong about you," she said, and leaned over to give him a little kiss on the lips.

"Wow," he said, when she drew away. "That was nice. No one's ever just kissed me like that, but then, you're a very special lady."

That earned him another kiss. This lasted a little longer. Karen was still playing the daring game, now with herself.

"You even smell nice," he remarked, and leaned over to sniff her perfume at her shoulder, then at her navel, then he pressed his nose between her breasts and inhaled deeply, with a sound of pleasure.

She laughed and said, "I didn't put any there. All you're smelling is me."

"It's not the perfume that smells good," he replied. "Your skin smells so clean and... feminine. I've always been crazy about the way a woman's bare skin smells, and tastes."

With that, he tongued her cleavage, above and below her bra. It tickled, and she heard herself giggle like a child. She barely noticed the way his hand came to rest on her hip, but caught it when it began to wander toward her crotch.

"Umm," he said, and withdrew to stare at her bra. "Could I... maybe... taste your nipples."

"You've got to be kidding," she remarked, knowing full well he wasn't, but what could it hurt?

The alcohol and adrenaline in her system were making her bold. Just for a moment, she wondered if this was becoming more than a game, but she looked at Pete's funny, hopeful face and had to tease him some more. Karen slid a strap from her shoulder, as if she were going to peel away that cup and expose her breast, then shook her head and replaced it.

"I don't know," she said and bit her lip as if in a quandary.

She pushed her bust up until her boobs threatened to burst free from the garment, but let them fall back in place.

"I really don't think..." she began to say, but he interrupted.

"God! Karen, you're killing me over here!"

"Okay, but don't get any ideas. I'm not going any further."

"Of course," he agreed with a smile.

He watched almost anxiously as she reached back to release her hooks. When she peeled the garment away from her breasts, she almost laughed out loud at the expression on his face.

"My... my," he said quietly. "They don't need any support. They're perfect."

"Not perfect," she said with a grin, "But I guess they'll do. You really like them?"

"Oh man, do I ever," he sighed.

He leaned down to sniff again, this time at her breasts, then he ran his tongue around the circumference of her left nipple. He moaned in pleasure, then covered it with his lips. She felt it drawn into his mouth, and his tongue flick it eagerly.

Karen had always enjoyed having her breasts suckled and gently caressed. Sometimes she liked them handled roughly, when in the throes of passion. Having a strange man touching her this way was a naughty turn-on that made her feel sexy as hell. She found his left hand wandering close to her crotch again and drew it up to her right breast, squeezing his fingers into a cup around it. He gently palpitated her fleshy orb while she closed her eyes and sighed in pleasure.

"That's nice," she breathed. "I've always loved this."

She was glad she didn't have to direct him to change to the other breast after a few moments, but now that his mouth had taken the place of his left hand, it had moved to her inner thigh. She found that she no longer cared, even when it moved higher and his fingers caressed the mound of her vagina. They felt good there. It felt right, as they gently stroked her crease through her panty. The feeling of double stimulation made her moan softly in pleasure. Soon, she found it hard to keep from rocking her pelvis and rubbing herself faster against the hand. She knew her panty was becoming damp. It was almost involuntary when her legs opened wider, letting him use all his fingers, and move more freely.

She felt the passion rising inside her and could no longer refrain from moving her crotch against his strong fingers. When they were suddenly withdrawn, she whimpered in disappointment, but then they were back, sliding inside her panty, probing into her crease. A finger found her clit and massaged it, causing her body to tremble in reaction, her mouth to open with a gasp of surprised pleasure. She felt her climax building, her body tensing, her attention narrowing to a pinpoint centered in her sex, and then she was having it.

"Ahhh! Ahhh! Ahhh!" she panted, then yelled, "Ohhhmmyygaaad!"

Her body was still in spasm, her mind still reeling, when she felt herself dragged flat on the mattress and her panty ripped from her body. Suddenly a weight covered her and she felt something blunt and hard press into her pulsing vagina, find her opening and begin to enter. This couldn't be a man's penis, she thought to herself, it was too thick, and was penetrating all the way to her womb. When it struck bottom inside her, she felt impaled, stretched over something almost too large to bare, but then he began to move upon her and it moved inside her quivering flesh.

Karen opened her eyes and Pete smiled at her. She immediately closed them again. It was too much to see this man she barely knew, hovering over her, while a penis that was undeniably his, moved inside her. This was wrong. Terribly wrong, but it was too late to stop, and her body didn't want to stop. She was already moving with him, her pussy tilting up to accept each thrust. If she didn't look, she could pretend he was someone else, but she couldn't pretend he was Gene. Her fiancé was a great lover, but would never be able to make her feel so full. Pete wasn't better than him, but the feeling was very, very different. Having so much man meat inside her was a primal feeling, wild, almost animalistic.

"I'm rutting like a dog," she found herself thinking. "Not because I love this man, or even particularly like him, but because he's here and interested, and wants to fuck me as much as I want to be fucked."

For the moment, nothing else mattered. Her mind grew quiet, as her body took over. Only from a distance, was she aware that she was encouraging him to fuck her faster, that her legs had risen from the bed and were crossed over his back urging him to drive his dick deeper, when he was already slamming against her womb on every stroke. She could hear the wet sound of flesh moving within flesh, a slurping, smacking sound, like a passionate kiss that kept repeating over and again.

A part of her couldn't believe it was her voice screaming, "Fuck me! Fuck me! Yes! Oh yes Pete! Don't stop! Please don't stop!" over and over again like a chant.

She just didn't act like that. She never screamed her pleasure in such hedonistic abandon, but then, it wasn't every day that she got strange dick, or rutted like a bitch in heat. Soon all thought stopped and her world narrowed to the feverish flesh between her thighs and the massive organ that pushed an pulled at it from the inside.

Her eyes couldn't remain closed, and soon she was staring at his face, at the many emotions that played across it. Sometimes he looked worried, other times, pleased, almost cocky, and sometimes he caught her eye and a smile played across his lips. Soon however, he began to look determined, and pumped her fast and hard and deep. He gasped for breath and shook her body with his thrusts.

She had experienced one orgasm after another until she felt on the verge of unconsciousness, when she felt a change in his rhythm. He groaned deep in his chest and drove it in hard and tight and she felt it when he gushed inside her, filling every recess. The pressure built until she felt liquid spraying from within her to rush past her anal pucker and soil the sheets. He twisted and flexed it in her passage, setting off the orgasm she had been on the verge of having. Her vaginal muscles pulsed around his embedded organ, causing more ejaculation of thick, hot, cum, and she clawed helplessly at his back, until the aftershocks faded.

At last, he pulled out of her and lay down, gasping, as was she. Karen reached down to touch her tender abused inner tissues and found her orifice gaped open and draining. This was alarming at first, until she realized it was only temporary. Soon her body would cool and her passage would draw itself closed again.

Being who he was, he had to ruin the satisfied, warm, fuzzy feeling she was experiencing, by talking.

"That's the best piece of ass I ever had," he remarked. "I'll bet you never had dick like mine either?"

She sighed and replied, "No, I guess not."

"If you'll give me a few minutes, we can do it again," he suggested.

Even though she was annoyed by his cocky attitude, she laughed and said, "Then you'll be doing it by yourself. I'm tired, and I have to go home before Gene gets back."

"Forget about him," said Pete. "Stay the night, you can sort things out in the morning. The asshole might appreciate you better, if he has to sit up wondering where the hell you are."

"I can't," she replied. "I have to do some thinking, and I know I won't be able to think around you."

She climbed out of bed and felt cum running down her legs.

"I've got to have a quick bath first, or at least a shower."

"Hey, I'll wash your back," he offered.

She couldn't really object, it was his bath, but once in the shower, she had to keep warning him not to get her hair wet. She had no hairspray, and no way to dry it before she went home. His penis got hard again and he pushed her up against the wall and entered her. Seeing that he wasn't going to let her go until he finished, she pushed free, cut off the water and bent over so he could take her from behind.

She was too worried about the time to think about enjoying their hurried coupling and as soon as he showed signs of cumming, broke free and knelt to give him head. Karen didn't want to have to bathe again, so she brought him to climax and swallowed rapidly. She'd rarely done this with Gene, so it made her a bit queasy. Pete was pleased. Her panties were torn, so she had to hope Gene wouldn't want to fondle her bottom, as he sometimes did. She dressed quickly and had Pete drive her to her car.

When she got home, she smelled charcoal burning and realized Gene was cooking on the grill out back. She thanked her lucky stars and ran to change and put on deodorant. The next obstacle was acting as if nothing unusual had happened. He didn't seen to have that problem. As soon as he saw her, he asked if she'd had a hard day at the office and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. She almost choked for a moment, before she realized she had imagined he had put emphasis on the word "hard".

She managed to ask him why he was late getting home, and he made an excuse that was as ridiculous as it was unbelievable. Karin knew, had he asked, she would have been able to fabricate something much more likely, but he didn't bother to ask.

"He doesn't even care," she said to herself.

After dinner, they cleaned everything, together, just as usual, then watched television until bedtime. Gene didn't initiate sex, and she didn't offer. They had gotten to the point where they went days without intercourse. Karen wasn't comforted by this, even though it was convenient, this one time. She knew he hadn't asked for sex because her slut of a sister had already taken care of the urge. She lay awake long after he slept, wondering what to do about the affair. Should she confront him, or Tracy with her knowledge, or play it cool and hope it burned itself out? Could she even stand to be with him again physically, knowing what she did?

It never once crossed her mind that what she had done with Pete was just as wrong. In fact, she didn't think about the fling with him, until the next day at work, when he came to her cubical and kissed her. She was taken aback.

"What are you doing?" she asked. "Someone might see you."

"So?"

"So, I'm engaged to another man," she snapped.

"Who's cheating on you with your sister. Seems to me that fair is fair. It's our turn."

"Look Pete," she began, hoping to reason with him, "What we did yesterday... as good as it was... is not going to happen again. It can't. I was drunk, you were drunk, so it doesn't matter. No harm done. Please, let it go."

He seemed to consider her words, then nodded.

"Okay. I can understand, you need time. I'll be around if you find you want me."

Pete glanced around and then kissed her. This time, she returned the kiss, grateful he was being careful and understanding. After he left, she applied herself to her work until nearly lunch time. She had a thought about the situation with Gene and called her sister to ask her to lunch.

Tracy was already at the restaurant when she arrived. They ordered and while they waited, she tried to steer the conversation toward Gene, hoping Tracy would admit what was happening so it could be worked out. She finally had to be blatant.

"Tracy, I think Gene is having an affair, and I think you know something about it."

Her sister's mouth opened as if she would blurt something, then thought better of it.

"Why on earth would you think something like that?" she asked, concerned. "Gene has always loved you. He wouldn't take the chance of losing you over another woman."

"Tracy, he's been acting strange and lying to me, and I found long black hairs on his shirt," Karen lied.

"Guys act strange sometimes," Tracy said with a smile, "And the hairs could have come from anywhere and anyone. Hey, my hair is black. It doesn't mean I'm sleeping with him. My fiancé, Bruce, acts weird sometimes, and when I was married to Brandon, he would take spells like that. It didn't mean anything."

"You caught him in bed with his niece," Karen reminded her, disappointed Tracy wouldn't level with her.

"I know, but he wasn't acting out of the ordinary at the time."

After that, they made small-talk until she had to leave. Tracy walked her to her car and gave her a hug saying, "Listen Sis, calm down and don't do anything rash. I'm sure when he's ready to tell you what's on his mind, it will turn out to be nothing."

By the time Karen got back to the office, she was livid with anger. First, Gene had lied to her, now her sister was pulling the same shit. She'd given them the chance to come clean. Now she would have to think of herself, what she wanted and needed. What she wanted more than anything at the moment, was revenge.

She sat at her desk for half an hour, staring at the computer without seeing it, then calmly stood and walked back to an office, knocked on the door and stuck her head inside.

"You doing anything after work?" she asked Pete.

"No."

"I'll meet you at your place."

She went back to her cubical and tried to catch up her work. She ended up staying late. It was a good excuse, so she called the house and used it on the answer machine.

By the time she got to Pete's apartment, it was night. As she approached the head of the stairs, she began to hope he wasn't home. He answered the door on the second knock, surprising her. He explained he had heard her coming up. He was wearing a smoking jacket and had a glass, containing some brown liquid, in his hand. She took the glass from him and tossed it back. It was very strong and burned all the way down.