Chapter 23: Karen's back door

Karen and I schemed to arrange our next night together. She didn't want to impose on Gary again. I invited her and Kevin to come for a swim, but she shot that down, saying that it would be too obvious to John and Suzanne that we were fucking.

The nightly telephone calls were always brief, often filled with innuendos and hints of breaking new boundaries. Karen seemed to be obsessed that our affair would continue, not that she called it an affair. She referred to our remaining 'times' together as how many pips remained. I tried to tell her that there was no limit on the 'times' we would have, but she argued that our affair was destined to end. It was clear to me that she just wanted a date, and I believe that she would have accepted any date I set. Unfortunately, I hesitated to set a date because, frankly, I didn't know how long I could be in a relationship built strictly on sex.

Then, she let it slip that she'd gone to lunch with Gary and the boys. Naturally, I asked her when this had taken place, and the answer she gave was vague and misleading.

"I've told you that I don't care what you do when we're apart. I don't ask you where you've been or what you did and I would appreciate the same courtesy from you."

That was only partially true. While she didn't ask me what I had done while I was away, she kept better track of my schedule than I did. I didn't hear from her for a few days, and I began to think that the end to our 'time' together had arrived.

It came to me that the lunch had taken place last Saturday, the day she had gotten to my house at about two PM. We'd first gone across the street to the tennis courts, where I'd convinced her to go to the condo. It was the next day that Gary had invited everyone to lunch, and she'd said, "Not two days in a row."

Marsha Cody called to ask if I'd seen the weekly newspaper, and when I told her that I had not, she suggested that we have lunch. I invited her to the cafeteria in our building.

"Free publicity was an excellent suggestion. I've had two phone calls from companies interested in joining our group," Marsha said as she handed me the newspaper.

I looked at the photograph for quite a long time, unable to take my eyes off of two of the subjects in particular.

Stephanie Macon's brown hair hung down over her forehead, making her seem mysterious. It occurred to me that she looked nothing like her half-brother. Gary had dark hair, and was stocky, while his sister was rather thin, especially her face. I'd only taken notice of Ginger Osborn's figure at the meeting; she too, had features that stood out in the photo.

Sophie Scott had been complimentary in the article that accompanied the photograph. 'The Reapers are a group of young people who represent their companies in a variety of charity work. Their latest venture will be to assist a homeless shelter with its program. This project is being spearheaded by Sammy Oldham, an executive with the Oldham Companies, a firm specializing in commercial real estate.'

"You need to thank Sophie for giving us the free pub. I'm sure she will be happy to take your call," Marsha said, and I agreed to thank Sophie.

We were talking about the next meeting of the group, and how we would persuade other members to take part in the homeless shelter when we were interrupted.

"Hello, Sammy, Hello, Marsha."

I looked up to see Cynthia. She was wearing a rather bland summer dress, which was odd, but stranger yet, was the absence of a pendant and her customary high heels. Her smile was quickly replaced by a hollow stare, and she was off before we could acknowledge her greeting.

"She looks awful," Marsha said, and when I didn't respond to her comment, she said something about needing to get back to her office.

I received a call that afternoon from a homeless shelter, asking for our help. I took the lady's name, and told her that our committee would be in touch. This gave me the opportunity to speak to Ginger Osborn. I could almost see her breasts rise and fall as she spoke, saying that she would contact the shelter.

On Saturday morning, I drove by the field where Karen held her girls' softball practice. Not only did I see Gary's car, he and the boys were playing catch next to the right field foul line, the same area I'd played catch with Kevin the day she sent me away.

I went home and let Samantha practice driving the rover. Ned and I set up an obstacle course, but didn't suggest that she try to operate the sample gathering arms. As I wrote in the log, "Samantha has no trouble steering the vehicle. She's even beginning to follow the verbal commands. In addition to a reverse gear, it is imperative that operating the sample gathering fingers be simplified.

I was in the pool when Penelope said I had a phone call. I heard Suzanne say something to John as I hurried into the house to take the call.

"Is the condo available? I can be there in fifteen minutes," Karen asked.

It was after two PM, and I considered asking if she'd accepted Gary's invitation to have lunch with him again, but that thought evaporated when I recalled the way she always asked, "How do you want me?"

"I'll be ready," I said, before running upstairs, changing clothes, and grabbing my shaving gear. Suzanne stopped me before I got to the back door. She was wearing a two piece swimsuit, and her skin glistened with a heavy layer of sunscreen.

"How much longer is this going to go on?" she asked.

"I don't know."

"I don't mean to meddle, Sammy, but I hope you know what you're doing."

"Thanks for your concern, Suz. I assure you that everything is under control."

"Just remember, you're not sixteen any longer."

Three or four responses popped into my mind, but I just smiled. "I'm lucky to have you remind me, Suz."

She returned my smile, and let me leave without dispensing more advice.

Karen stopped the car; I hopped in the passenger seat, and saw that she was wearing the baseball pants. Her face was devoid of makeup, and she was wearing a bandanna to keep her hair restrained.

"Did you have a good lunch?"

She shifted into third gear before looking my way. "We've been over this, Sammy. Your curiosity regarding what I do is becoming annoying. If you must know, we had lunch with Gary and his boys; I dropped Kevin off at his father's house, went home, showered, and called you. For your information, these are not the pants I wore at practice. They're clean. I wore them for you."

She didn't look annoyed; she looked amused. I put my hand on her thigh, and felt the soft material. "Thank you."

She smiled, and I smiled back. I removed my hand from her thigh, and we chatted about mundane things. When we got to the condo, I noticed that she took a small case upstairs. When we got to the living room, she stopped me, saying that we needed to talk. I sat on the couch, and she took a seat at the opposite end.

"This looks serious," I said.

"It is serious. I want to talk to you about Gary. You didn't tell him about us, did you?"

"No, he thinks I'm still sniffing around, trying to get in your panties."

"Good."

"Good? Why is it good? It makes me look like a horny teenager."

"Because I'm going to marry him, and I need your help."

She lifted her feet to the couch, and placed them in my lap. I began untying her sneakers, and removing them.

"You just met this guy, and you've already decided to marry him. I don't like stepping aside for someone you hardly know," I said, dropping her sneakers on the floor, and removing her socks. Her toenails were painted blue.

"Hear me out, Sammy. We've talked about how much longer this will go on. You know as well as I do that you'll tire of me. I've got to think of my future."

"Do I look like I'm tiring of you?" I asked, beginning to rub the bottoms of her feet.

"You dropped me four years ago, and you'll do it again. I thought long and hard before I returned your call. I had no expectations that is would last more than three times. Every time I call you, I think this is the last time. The truth is, we're good together."

I was finished with her feet, and had moved my hands to her calves. "I was three hundred miles away from you four years ago. I've matured since then, and I have no intentions of dropping you again."

"You will, and you know it. Until that time, I need you to help me."

I suppose that down deep, I knew that our future together could not last. Other than tennis and sex, we had no common interests. She'd made it clear that it was just a matter of time before our little affair would come to an end.

"Just so I know we're talking about the same thing, how do you want me to help you?"

She sighed, and probed my cock with her toe. "I want to make myself irresistible to Gary. You'll help by keeping me sexually satisfied while he's deciding to propose marriage."

"He's already finding you irresistible. The other day as we watched you walk away, he said that you're all woman, and then he asked how I was progressing with you. That's why I don't think he suspects we're sleeping together."

"That's some good information. You're already helping."

I reached for the waistband of the baseball pants, and she lifted her butt to allow me pull them down. Her panties were blue, the same color as her toenails.

She picked up the small case and I followed her panty-clad ass up the stairs. We began kissing and undressing at the same time. Karen stood back and admired my erection.

"You could drive nails with that thing," she laughed, making me shudder as she squatted to lick the pre cum.

"Get on the bed and I'll drive it into you," I said, but she had other ideas. We began the same way as the week before, with me on my back and Karen's legs straddling my shoulders. She engulfed my cock, and it was only minutes later when I was spraying cum into her throat.

She turned to grin at me, and said, "Do me."

Feeling drained, I was able to go to work on her pussy, tongue fluttering, flicking her clit, and adding Erica's instructions to do the occasional pussy pat. I don't know how much time went by, only that my tongue was tiring. Karen suddenly pulled her ass away from my face, and turned her head to look back at me. She didn't say anything, but I knew what she wanted. I dipped my middle finger into her opening, and pulled her ass into position. I then patted her ass a few times while searching for the entrance to her tight little muscle.

For the second week in a row, she was using my middle fingers, one in her ass and the other one in her pussy. All I had to do was to keep my fingers straight, and let her have her way with them. From the way she was rocking back and forth, she was getting close, and like the week before, I wiggled both fingers.

Karen slowed, but continued to fuck my fingers. This continued for some time. It was like she couldn't bear to stop pleasuring herself. Eventually, she stopped moving. I pulled my fingers out, and slapped her ass.

"Ouch," she complained, as she got off the bed, and disappeared into the bathroom with the small case.

When she reappeared, she stood in the doorway for a minute, and let me look at her.

"Gary was right. You are all woman," I said, and watched her smile.

"Do you think this all-woman is enough to make him propose?" she asked, getting on the bed and facing me.

"Frankly, I think you're rushing into something before you've considered all the ramifications."

She leaned over and kissed me. "He's single, I'm single, he makes a good living, and I'm in need of someone who makes a good living. What other ramifications are there to consider?"

"For one thing, he's thirty-eight years old. For another, he has two kids, and he may be paying child support. There's also the question of love between spouses, and finally, what makes you think he wants to get married?"

"Those aren't ramifications; they're roadblocks. Thirty-eight is not old, I already know he pays child support, love between spouses is overrated, and I'll make him want to marry me. What's wrong, Sammy, are you jealous? You know this can't last. I know you. You'll tire of me."

"I don't think that I'm jealous. What about sex? Have you considered what you'll do if he doesn't measure up?"

"Good sex is important, but it doesn't need to be fantastic to have a happy second marriage. I'll give him a tryout after I get the ring, and before we announce the engagement. If he turns out to be sexually inept, I'll ... how do you put it ... pass?"

Something was bothering me. I wasn't sure I believed everything she was telling me. "Is it common for girls to confide in their sexual partners while they conspire to coax a man to propose?"

Karen pushed her breasts against my chest. "I'm lucky. Most girls don't have a man they can talk to the way I talk to you. I trust you to be discreet and help me make this happen."

I put my arm around her, but she evaded my embrace, and reversed her position to take my cock in her mouth. She was on her knees, and her ass was up in the air. All I could think was, 'Who's lucky? She's got a man she can trust, and I've got a girl that knows what she wants.' I patted her ass, and enjoyed the attention she was giving my cock. It ended too soon. She scampered into the bathroom, leaving my hardon waving in the air.

"Hey! You're not finished!"

She was back in seconds. "Use this to lube me," she said, handing me a tube of KY gel.

"Are you sure?" I asked, and watched her get into position on the bed.

"Sammy, I told you that I trust you. I know you'll stop if I ask you to."

She was on her knees with her ass sticking up in the air.

"Ouch!" she said when she felt the palm of my hand come down on her right cheek.

"I couldn't resist," I said, as I squeezed a liberal amount of the gel on my finger.

Karen giggled, and wiggled her ass. "Do me," she said, in an insistent way that schoolteachers use to get the attention of their students. I massaged her sphincter with the tip of my finger before pushing some of the lubricant inside.

"Use your middle finger," she ordered, and I did as she told me.

"Put some on your thing, too," she said, and again, I followed her instructions.

"Are you ready?" I asked.

"Put it in me."

I got into position, and saw that it wasn't going to fit. "Are you sure?"

"Damn it, Sammy, put it in me. I'll tell you if it's too much."

I pushed until the head disappeared. "Are you all right?"

Karen's head was on the mattress, and she turned it so I could see her face. She was massaging her clit. "Keep going."

I placed my hands on her hips, and eased in further. I watched her facial expression for any indication that she wanted me to stop. She was definitely in pain, but she was also determined to go through with it. What happened to the gel? My cock felt like it was being squeezed by vise grips. I pulled back, and pushed back in, further this time. Karen's hand was busy rubbing her clit, and she was beginning to sweat. Why the hell was she subjecting herself to this torture? Why was she involving me in this folly?

"More," she said in a soft voice.

I took that to mean that she wanted me to push deeper. Should I pull out and add more gel? No, keep going, I'd never get it back in. With three more slow, but deliberate thrusts, I was in all the way. I halted the action for a few seconds to reflect on what had just happened. A divorced mother of one, and a schoolteacher, had just endured pain to give me the most exhilarating experience of my life. Did I enjoy it? No, I'd done it for her. Why did she want me to do it?

"More," she said, sounding impatient with me.

"Okay, if you want to be fucked up the ass, that's what you're going to get," I said, and let my male instincts take over; abandoning any concern I may have felt for her comfort. Karen rubbed her clit, and if she was dissatisfied with the way I was slamming into her, she didn't voice a complaint.

Karen's back was soon covered with beads of sweat, making it difficult to hold on to her hips. I don't know how long this went on, but I do know that I was winded when she fell forward, taking me with her. I remained inserted until we caught our breath.