I decided to stick around after an after-work bitch-and-moan session at the bar. I was committed to downing a couple more drinks and watching whatever sports popped up on the screens when I spotted her.
I had known Karen since elementary school and we dated in high school. We'd fool around a little bit in the back of the band room and we went to prom together, even after we broke up, but we never got intense sexually. She would take off my shirt and use a pen to play "connect the dots" on my back -- something I look back on now as an innocent intro to becoming sexual -- but I was way too scared of getting a girl pregnant.
I mean, couldn't she get pregnant if I looked at her the wrong way?!?
Now it was only seven years since high school and I had returned to my hometown for my second job after college. I had had plenty of relationships with oral giving and receiving, dry humping, handjobs and all of that, but I still was a virgin. And I had no intention of breaking my streak tonight.
Still, after we made eye contact, I wandered over to her side of the bar. We hugged like the old friends we were and talked and drank... and drank and talked... and maybe we drank a little more.
She was a shapely, nerdy, Black girl who was now a shapely, nerdy, Black woman. I wanted to kiss her and touch her.
And near closing time, with my hefty dosage of liquid courage, I wasn't thinking of going home alone, and I asked her to my place.
The thrill of meeting her at my place was a new form of inebriation, and yet I wondered what I had done. Was this a new beginning? A one-time fling? Was she off-the-market, like she was during my senior prom? Maybe we'd just talk some more, flirt some more, play around a little.
After she showed up at my door 20 minutes later, I guided her inside, gave her a quick tour of the house and landed on the couch in the living room. In no time, we were making out and I removed her shirt and bra, exposing her beautiful body and puffy areolas topped by hard nipples. I leaned over and guided her breast into my mouth, pulling it out with a tug of my lips and teeth across her nipple. Then I did the same with her other breast. Back and forth -- I loved her smooth skin as her hands played in my hair.
My hands fumbled for the buckle to her blue jeans and forced them down her legs and past her feet. Her dark, already-wet panties smelled fantastic and I licked her slit through the fabric as one hand alternated between her breasts and the other hand kneaded her ass.
Where was this going? I didn't care. All I wanted was Karen -- I realized that for more than a dozen years, going back to our sessions in the back of the band room, I just wanted Karen.
Karen was so new but yet so familiar.
Her body buckled, pushing her panties deeper into my mouth. I willingly took them in, but soon reached up to her hips and pulled them past her ankles. My lips kissed up her legs to her thighs, traveling up and down her legs. I kissed her trimmed bush and my tongue dropped down to her button. I sucked it between my lips and took in the musky smell of her dampness. I dropped my chin and licked her slit from bottom to top, often sending my tongue between her pussy lips, then dancing across her slit again.
"Mmmmm," Karen moaned, her hands at the back of my head.
Hungrily back at her clit and then back along her slit, my tongue explored deeper into her hot, wet pussy.
I kissed up her body, pausing at her bellybutton and her breasts, up to her neck to her ears,.
"I want to fuck you," I whispered.
