Kara Comes to Visit

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It’d be fair to say that I’d wanted to be with Kara Mendel for better than ten years before a real opportunity presented itself. It wasn’t for lack of trying though.

We’d gone to high school together, I met her when we were both in 10th grade. An oddity of the small private school we’d both attended was that students tended to be grouped together freshman year and attend the same classes and activites throughout their entire school career. The school was very small – it was rare for a graduating class to number even 100 students, so that made it all the more intimate.

With all the time we spent together in class, studying, and socializing outside of school, there was never any hint of a sexual connection between the two of us while we were classmates. Strange, because even back then she was quite a sight to behold.

I didn’t meet Kara before she hit puberty, so I never knew her when she didn’t have a woman’s body. Unlike many of the girls in our school she wasn’t skinny as a rail, she had an hourglass figure the whole time I knew her. While her hips were maybe a tad wider than most of the girls our age, she was tall, about 5′ 7″, and more than proportional up top, sporting C’s bordering on D’s even back in adolescence. Despite this fact and that I preferred blondes like her, I was never my nervous shy high school self in her presence, I managed to act like a normal human being around her, unlike most of the other girls I thought were pretty.

We counseled each other through a number of puppy love crushes, but never even considered the possibility of being something more in those days. Well, at least I didn’t. I can’t speak for her though she certainly had her share of suitors at the time.

After graduation, she took a year and traveled Europe, spending quite a bit of time and eventually being accepted into school in Switzerland. We kept in touch via email, and she generally made it back for the holidays. I moved out West for school and ended up getting my first job out of college in San Francisco.

A few years later, we both found ourselves living back in our hometown, and renewed our friendship, still strictly platonic. We were both involved with other people at that point, and eventually I got an invitation to her wedding. She was completely smitten with the guy, and they seemed happy together. Even so, a week before the wedding, I got a call from her on a weeknight asking if we could have a drink. She came over to my place and I drove us both to one of our neighborhood hangouts.

I hadn’t actually seen her in quite some time and she looked fantastic. She’d been getting in shape for the wedding and she seemed more alive and vibrant than ever. She had been given a bag of candy as a pre-wedding present and offered me some. I munched on some Pez while she put on a candy diamond ring. We sat at the bar and talked about our lives, and she confided that she was not without some doubts about her marriage. As it did sometimes, the conversation turned sexual and she suddenly asked “Do you think it’s okay to cheat?”

The short answer for me was “No.” I came from a broken home and had seen firsthand what infidelity can do to a person’s life, and was strictly against it. As we continued to talk, I realized that for the first time in all the years we’d known each other, she was coming on to me.

As we sat in the bar, I felt myself starting to wake up a bit downstairs. I was definitely not going to be standing up anytime soon without embarrassing myself greatly. She had moved closer and begun to act suggestively, touching her hair, my face, and frequently leaning over to whisper in my ear. Initially I thought she might have been a little tipsy before I noticed there was only diet coke in her glass.

As difficult as it was, I made the decision that I wasn’t going down this road, and somehow managed to diplomatically make clear that point. I may have considered a frank conversation with her about getting married if I was single but I was in one of the first apparently healthy relationships I’d ever managed. We chalked it up to pre-marriage jitters, and I dropped her off at her car, which was across the street from my apartment.

She had been sucking on her candy jewel ring, and made one last attempt to garner my interest by making a show of first licking it suggestively and finally putting the whole thing in her mouth and sucking hard. My soldier once again stood at attention and this time she had no compunctions about visibly noticing it. Before I knew what was happening, her hand was resting on my leg, pulling my pants tight around my throbbing hard on.

It took all of my self control not to jump her right there, but I just couldn’t do that to the girl I was dating or to her fiance. I moved her hand back, told her I would always be there as a friend, and she reluctantly got out. After pausing to collect myself for a moment I pulled my car into the garage. The rest of my evening consisted of imagining an alternate ending to the encounter Tokat Escort by myself in bed. In fact, for years afterwards that story was a regular headliner in the movie theater of my mind during “alone time.”

She got married and was happy for a while. I broke things off with my then-girlfriend not too long afterwards – it just wasn’t going anywhere. About a year later I started dating a woman named Susan who I thought I might marry. We were compatible in many ways, though the relationship was far from perfect. After we’d been together a few years her mother got sick, and she started traveling to Kansas fairly regularly to care for her. We would talk each night and occasionally I could persuade her to play around with me on Skype, but she never seemed to enjoy it the way I did.

One night while Susan was in Kansas, a few friends from school were in town and we organized an impromptu reunion. Despite the huge group of old friends and the din of the club we’d somehow thought would be fun to hang out at, Kara and I managed to spend a long period just talking to each other. Her husband Jerry was out with his own friends, so neither of us had a date. We ended up sitting across from each other at a long table.

Looking back, I don’t remember how we got on the topic, but our conversation got very deep in detail about our masturbatory habits. She confessed her sex life with Jerry was not exactly smoking, and as such she’d acquired a wide array of toys. I sat transfixed at the thought of this beautiful woman taking matters into her own hands. Her looks had only gotten better with age – her breasts were fuller and she carried herself with a sexiness and confidence that only comes from maturity. She told me of the various items she had in her collection, and seemed disappointed that I’d never partaken in a fleshlight or any other such device.

We both fessed to our porn viewing habits, and I even admitted that one of the most intense “sessions” I’d ever had was following that night in the car. She told me she’d gotten herself off twice before she even got home after I dropped her off. That led to my confessing that I absolutely adore watching a woman get herself off. It’s easily one of the most wonderous things on the planet in my mind. The only thing I might possibly find more intoxicating is watching two women together. I have plenty of porn clips on my hard drive, and one of my favorites is a scene where two women finger each other to simultaneous orgasm. Something about that is just overwhelming to me. She then followed that tidbit up that she has a folder of Japanese Bukakke porn on the laptop she takes to bed with her, because she loves to watch guys jack off.

As far as either of us were concerned we were the only ones in the club from that point forward. She told me she liked to use her big purple dildo in her living room while Jerry was at work, and she knew the woman who lived across the street could see. I told her I’d liked to play on webcams and my lube preferences before I’d gotten involved with Susan. I couldn’t see clearly across the table but one of her hands had vanished underneath the tablecloth. I was transfixed watching her cheeks flush as her foot kicked off her shoe and started to brush against mine, up my leg, and into my lap while all ambiguity in what she was doing vanished. Her gaze had gone into a thousand yard stare for a moment, but she felt the effect her ministrations were having in my pants her eyes locked onto mine.

I honestly have no idea where the evening would have gone if my cell phone hadn’t gone off in the middle of that reverie. I looked down to see “Susan” with a little heart icon next to it. The spell was broken but neither of us ever forgot what had happened.

Life went on. She went back to Jerry, I went back to Susan. We never spoke of it again.

One Friday night almost three years later I got a call.

“Hey, it’s Kara.”

We hadn’t talked in awhile.

“Hey! How are you?”

“I broke up with Jerry. I’m moving into a new place this weekend.”

She sounded positively elated. This revelation came as no surprise, their marriage had been on the rocks for awhile, and I was glad for her. We spoke briefly of what had transpired between them, but eventually she abruptly changed the subject.

“Are you still with Susan?”

“I am.”

“Do you love her?”

There was no easy answer to that question, but on many levels I certainly did. That said, she was battling depression from the death of her mother and a whole host of personal demons at the time, and I was deep in the drama.

After just a short pause I responded in the affirmative – I wasn’t ready to throw in the towel on the relationship, I thought Susan needed me and I was going to be there for her as long as I could.

“Well, I don’t think you can help me tonight then… I haven’t been laid in eighteen months and I’m going to make some memories.”

After we hung up I can’t claim not to have had any regrets, Tokat Escort Bayan but a commitment is a commitment and I’d made one.

Things stayed rocky with Susan after that. A few months later I was offered a job in Los Angeles and we thought perhaps the change of scenery might improve things, but alas it was not to be. Susan became a hermit after we moved, not making friends, not getting a job, and barely even leaving our condo. Our relationship changed from one of mutual support to one of her clearly resenting me, and finally the day came when I’d had enough.

Strangely, when I told her it was over, she seemed to calm down. I don’t know everything she was going through, but she quickly arranged to move herself back to her hometown in Kansas, where in retrospect I guess she’d wanted to go for years, but never wanted to ask me about. We didn’t keep in close ouch after that, but she seemed to get her life together from what I was told.

I was wrecked emotionally. I’d invested seven years of my life in trying to build something that had come crashing down despite my having done everything I could think of to do. Before Susan I’d generally shifted between bachelorhood and serial monogamy, I’d never had a relationship last longer than a 9-12 months, other than one odd off-again on-again disaster that spanned a few years. I was wondering if I could ever make a go of a real relationship again.

I waited a few weeks before I even told anyone back home, but eventually started reaching out. Finally, the day came when I took the big plunge. My Facebook wall was now adorned with a broken heart icon and the phrase “Joel and Susan have ended their relationship.”

At that point my phone started ringing almost continuously. Despite the physical distance my core group of friends remained fairly closely tied, and everyone called to console me. I wasn’t in great shape for a few weeks but the outpouring of support got me through it. A few buddies from back home got in touch with my LA friends and organized the obligatory Vegas weekend. I was still the walking wounded but I couldn’t claim it hadn’t cheered me up at least a little.

It was two weeks after Susan had finally taken the last of her things from our beachfront condo that Kara called. She’d actually been one of the first calls I’d made after making the break up public, but at that point it was all about being a friend and listening. We hadn’t really talked about the elephant in the room that was our deferred sexual tension.

One of the things I’ve always appreciated about her is her directness. She wasted no time now.

“So, I was thinking I might take a vacation to Los Angeles.”

I realized that for the first time since discovering our mutual attraction, we were both single. Even so, it had been years since there had been so much of a spark of it. While my blood was definitely starting to flow, I decided to play it safe.

“Well you know my guest room is always open for you Kara. You’ve got a place to stay as long as you need one.”

After a short pause she said “Well, reserve it for me next week, I’m coming to visit. Can you take off work to show me the town?”

A few calls and emails later and I’d done exactly that. My boss knew what I was going through and told me if I hadn’t asked he’d probably have ordered me to take time off.

I wasn’t really sure what to expect with her visit, so I bought enough groceries for two and came up with a long list of things to do, see and eat while she was in town.

I picked her up at LAX – she looked spectacular. She came out to the curb pulling a small Louis Vuitton roll-on bag wearing a white T-shirt and jeans. The shirt was the type that drives me absolutely nuts when a woman shaped the way she is wears it; Just a form fitting cotton T that doesn’t quite cover her belly. The faint dark outline of her nipples were visible through it, and it took all my self control to look her in the face instead of the chest as I greeted her. I’d actually seen her breasts briefly back in high school during a skinny dipping episode. The view was clear enough that I could see their shape hadn’t changed any.

As we drove North towards my place, I started to wonder if she remembered the details of our conversation we’d had in the club all those years ago, before our “incident.” I had a faint memory of telling her the things women wore that got me excited, and wondered if perhaps this attire was on purpose. She gave no indication of noticing my attention though, which I had to admit I was doing a poor job of concealing.

We talked in the car. She was a consultant and just wrapped up her biggest project. She didn’t have anything lined up right away but the pay on her last job was such that she didn’t need to look seriously for anything for a few months. She let slip that she wasn’t so much on vacation as on hiatus, and hoped I didn’t mind if she stuck around longer than the few days we’d discussed. Of course I didn’t. Even if our Escort Tokat relationship stayed platonic I was so glad to see an old friend I would have been glad to have her be my permanent roommate.

We parked and I insisted on carrying her luggage up the stairs to my condo. It was surprisingly light and I said so. She just gave me a strange sort of smile and followed me through the front door.

I gave her a brief tour and let her gawk at my ocean view. There are many headaches involved with living in LA, but the weather and proximity to the ocean more than make up for it. I went to the kitchen to pour us some drinks when suddenly I felt her eyes on me.

I closed the fridge door without taking anything out, and saw her leaning against the doorframe, staring at me in a way I’d never seen a woman look at me before.

What were faint outlines of nipples at the airport were now dark globes straining against the thin fabric of her shirt. One hand lazily stroked her hair while the other drew small circles around her bellybutton. There was suddenly a lot less question in my mind about her intentions during this visit.

She pursed her lips before saying in a tone that left no room for argument “Show me your dick.”

Time stopped. I stood frozen. Kara just looked at me expectantly.


What else was I going to do? Feeling like I was in slow motion, I reached down and undid my belt, then the button on my pants, then the zipper. I slid my boxers and jeans down in one gesture. I wasn’t sure I’d ever been this hard in my life.

While I’m not John Holmes, the size of my endowment has always been a pleasant surprise to the women I’ve been with. I’m just under six feet tall and have an average build and an ongoing battle with my gut, which I guess somehow translates to an assumption of a particular size downstairs. Finding that size to be about 7″ long and very thick serves to consistently delight the woman I’m privileged to be displaying it to, and Kara was no exception.

Her momentary shock at seeing my size and my overall brain freeze with the whole situation resulted in the two of us just staring at each other for a moment. She recovered first.

Slowly and deliberately, she began to peel up her T shirt, revealing more of her smooth and pale skin. Her complexion was fair with just a hint of a pink glow to it. As the shirt came off her breasts I saw why her nipples had been so distinct through the shirt. The bra she was wearing had no front to the cups, it was just a few straps and a bit of support underneath. Seconds later it was on the floor next to the T Shirt. Her breasts hung free, and she smirked as she followed my gaze to her large pink nipples.

Kara’s face looked absolutely cherubic; There was no mistaking the mischief in her eyes. She reached up and let down her shoulder-length dirty blonde hair and shook it out. She looked like a goddess.

I was transfixed. I’d never seen anything so beautiful as Kara Mendel standing topless in my kitchen wearing nothing but a pair of jeans. Her left hand made its way up to her breast where she started playing absent-mindedly with her nipple while continuing to regard me with that boner-inducing naughty smile of hers. After a few seconds of that she turned and walked towards the living room and beckoned with her finger. I followed without making anything like a conscious decision to do so.

“Where do you keep your lube?”

Clearly she’d remembered every detail of the conversation we’d had what, three, four years ago now? I guess it wasn’t too big of a shock since I certainly did too. I glanced towards the bedroom.

“Go and get it, I’ll wait here.”

I went in and grabbed the bottle of Astroglide from my nightstand drawer. It was close to full. I tended to get the large size since despite not having the high end of porn star size, I definitely had the capacity. I can basically come as many times a day as I want to, and last as long as I feel like. I couldn’t remember if I’d told Kara about that or not.

I stepped out into the living room to see that Kara had taken a seat on one of my sofas. I have a La-Z-Boy couch and loveseat positioned in an L shape facing the TV, and Kara had taken a seat on the latter. She reached down and pulled the recliner switch, and leaned back with her feet up. As she did that, she slid off her jeans. I guess I wasn’t too surprised to find she wasn’t wearing panties.

She leaned forward and pulled her roll on bag up onto the loveseat next to her. She opened it and I saw the reason it had been so light. There were only one or two outfits, and the rest of the bag contained just various lingerie and a wide array of sex toys. It seemed she’d brought enough gear to open a porn shop. She selected a purple model I recognized as a jackrabbit and laid it across her belly.

“Are you going to get naked for me?”

I’d forgotten I was still wearing my shirt, and quickly slid it over my head.

Kara’s eyes went up and down my body. I am, at least in my own mind, far from the perfect male specimen but Kara seemed to have no quarrel.

Whatever small portion of my brain was still working realized at this point that I had no idea what she wanted me to do next.

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