Looing Bac - Aren's Story

This story is totally made up, as in fiction. There isn't a lot of sex in it either at least not in the graphic stroke material way.

There is an old English saying that says "Pride goeth before a fall." Actually the saying is adapted from the bible verse that says "Pride goeth before destruction and a haughty spirit before a fall." I'd say vanity is also a path to destruction and a fall.

This is a continuation of Looking Back. Since I agree with those that said Karen should have had more to say in the original story I will try to let her fill in some of the blanks left by Doug's Story.

If you haven't read the first part this will make no sense at all. You can find it here: https://www.literotica.com/s/looking-back-12

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Looking Back

Karen's Story

Maybe you read the story Doug posted earlier. If you haven't this won't make much sense. Even if you have read it this may not make a lot of sense. It's mostly my fault if that happens because I'm still struggling to make sense of it myself.

Doug described me pretty well in his telling of my fall. At least physically, mentally well I don't think he could do that as well as he did the physical part.

It's hard for me to do this. Looking back for me means remembering a lot of things, ugly painful things that I did. Looking forward is no better for me most days so I might as well do this.

I have come to see my life as the three faces of Karen. I'll try to explain what I mean by that in what follows.

The First Face

My first face is the one I wore most of my life. It wasn't ugly nor was it beautiful; at least I didn't think it was when I saw it every day in my mirror. Like too many women I was always focused on my own perceived flaws.

If I was completely honest I'd say I was at best pretty. I did like my eyes and my nose was small and feminine. However every time I looked in the mirror and especially when I applied lipstick my mouth looked just wrong.

I had what they call a weak jaw or something like that. It wasn't that bad really but my lower jaw didn't line up with my upper so I had an overbite and it made me look buck toothed.

Sure it had been this way all my life. It is a shared family trait that we all had. But that didn't change how I saw it. I was convinced if I had the surgery I talked to the doctors about that it would make me more attractive.

It's hard growing up like I did. Five kids and two busy parents means we had to compete for their attention. Limited budgets meant having to compete for their money too if we needed clothes or shoes or whatever.

Add to that the onset of hormones and the first attractions to boys and it sucks not being "that girl". Oh you know the girl I'm talking about. She's the one that every boy in the room sees within seconds of her entering it. She's the one we lesser girls watch as the heads of the boys we were just talking to follow her across the room. Best case is they at least look a little guilty when they look back. Worst case is they just wander off and leave you without looking back.

I never had the nice clothes, cute shoes, salon nails, or anything that I didn't have to have. I looked and felt by every standard I could apply just plain or at best average.

Boys in the early days were all too easy to figure out. They were willing to talk to me and even flirt or date me as long as one of those girls was not around. I found out pretty early I was not their dream girl, but they figured I'd be easier to get. When they didn't get what they wanted they just wandered away without looking back.

I'd gotten burned by too many boys too quickly in my youth and had issues being able to trust. I was too used to being some kind of temporary thing until a better something or someone came along.

And then there was Doug. He was good looking, charming, funny, and nice. So he was way out of my league right. Then why did he seem so different? Here for the first time in my life was a guy that when we were talking didn't seem to notice when "that girl" walked in. I couldn't believe it, I couldn't trust it.

I kept the usual walls in place and didn't let him get too close. I figured if he didn't get the sex he wanted he would walk away like all the others.

But he didn't wander off. I'd watch him sometimes when he didn't know I was there. When "that girl" would walk through the room his head followed her just like all the guys, but when he was talking with me he didn't seem to notice her. Could he really be that interested in plain ole me?

We dated, we danced, we kissed, and I fell in love. Or as least I was sure that's what I felt. Thinking about it now and writing it down I'm not sure. But there is little I am sure of now.

I wasn't a virgin when I met Doug, nor was he. Truth is he probably had more experience than I did, or at least more pleasurable ones. I'd been screwed by three boys in my life before Doug. But I felt like a virgin in one important way. I had never had anyone make love to me.

Yes I'd had sex or gone all the way as they say. But they didn't care about me they just wanted to get in my pants. Doug was the first and still the only person I can say actually made love to me.

From the first time we made love I knew that this was how it should have always been. He talked to me while he kissed me forever before starting to undress me. So many different ways of being kissed, he kissed me softly, hungrily, open mouth tongues wrestling, and then softly again.

He kissed my lips, my neck, my ears, then down my chest. I almost stopped him before he could get to my breasts. I hated my breasts nearly as much as my chin. But at least those could be hidden behind a well-padded bra or a loose top. But he's going to know exactly what I don't have in the tit department very soon.

He spent what felt like a lifetime to me just kissing and running his tongue over my breasts. The first time he sucked my nipple into his mouth and licked it I had an orgasm. Now three boys before him had fucked me, only once did I have an orgasm. I never even considered the idea that I could orgasm from having my nipples sucked.

His lips moved to the other nipple and started the same wonderful feelings in my body. While he sucked and tongued my nipple I felt his hand moving toward my vagina. This I knew all about from the boys before. He was going to jam a finger in there and somehow think that felt good to me.

But he didn't do that at all. He continued to suckle my breast while his fingers just traced over my pussy. He found my clitoris with his finger and while flicking my nipple with his tongue somehow matched the movement of his finger on my clit.

I had experienced orgasms before from rubbing my clit myself. But was not prepared for what hit me while he played with me. I cannot tell you all that happened when the orgasm hit. I remember it as some sort of whole body spasm that took over muscle control from my toes to my eye lids. When I was coming back to the real world I realized he had a finger inside me and my body was trying to pull it off his hand.

I was so lost in the feelings that finger was giving me I didn't realize he was moving down my body until his tongue was tracing a line from my belly button toward my pussy. I'd heard of this of course. Other girls swore that having a man use his tongue there was the best thing ever. But I was worried.

What if I smelled bad down there? I mean I bathed at least once a day and I did keep all of my body clean but you know what if he didn't like the way I smelled. Or oh god what if it tastes bad? I mean what can it taste like, do different girls taste different? Will he be turned off by either of these things?

Then his lips closed around my clit and sucked it into his mouth. His tongue began to flick it and I lost all conscious thoughts. All those important questions just disappeared.

When I was once again in the real world after what had to be the best orgasm a girl could ever have my eyes opened to see him looking into them. Damn how long was I gone for anyway? But those eyes said more than all the words we had ever exchanged. Those eyes said he wanted me, he wanted to please me, and he wanted to share pleasures with me. They said they cared about me, maybe even loved me.

His eyes never left mine as he moved his body over mine. Then he bent down and kissed me softly as he pressed his penis against my vagina. Slowly he pushed inside and I felt the head of his penis enter me. I expected the same excited push to get all of it inside I'd been through before but I should have known better by now. He didn't rush to get his dick all the way in. He stopped just after the head of it was inside and kissed me harder, he nibbled my neck and kissed my lips moving back and forth while holding still just inside me.

I could finally feel him moving farther inside and was so ready for it by then. He was looking at me and smiling and I wondered why for a second. Then I realized he wasn't pushing into me I was driving my hips up to get more of him.

His kissed me hard then and I felt the thrust of his hips as he entered me fully. Then there is a kind of blank spot where I orgasmed again. He held there for a bit while I regained my senses. But soon I was grinding my hips around to feel the movement of him inside me.

That must have been what he was waiting for because he began to move now. It was by far the most intense feeling of my life. He would move in long slow strokes until I would move or moan or whatever clue he used to know when to thrust hard into me again. I swear I had at least a small orgasm every time he did that.

I don't know how long we made love, and yes we made love not fucked. I knew the difference then. In the end he was doing what most every guy had done before him. Hard and fast strokes had replaced all the slow teases and surprise thrusts. But it never felt that good before. I never felt that good before. I never had an orgasm like the one I did when I felt him begin to cum.

Our sex life was never our problem. I was our problem I just didn't admit it then.

We dated then fell in love and then married just like normal people do. We had grand adventures together and we had fun.

Then during one of my six month checkups the dentist mentioned the jaw reconstruction thing again. Something about if I was going to have it done it was better to do it now instead of waiting, you know younger equals easier time of it and all that.

I talked to Doug about it and while he didn't really see the need in it he knew how much it meant to me. So it was settled, I was finally going to get my jaw corrected.

The Second Face

I simply could not believe the difference once it was done. It was expensive even with the insurance, it was painful even with the drugs, and it was a total bitch to have you mouth wired shut for weeks. Ever turned a hamburger into a smoothie? I had to have one; I was so tired of broth and Jello.

The process was pretty rough, they cut my jaw in half on both sides and added plates to move my chin forward. The first day the bandages were off I thought it had been a huge mistake. But eventually the swelling and bruising faded away.

What I saw in the mirror when it was all over was better than I had imagined all my life. I was pretty; okay I'll say it I was more than pretty.

I had to relearn how to do the blush on my cheeks to go with the new lines. There were new hairstyles to better match the new profile of my jawline. It was fun and exciting and I was happy.

The reactions of friends and coworkers was a hell of a boost to my self-esteem; well let's just be honest and call it ego at this point.

But they're my friends right you could have a Frankenstein scar and they'd downplay it at least to your face anyway.

The bigger boost came from strangers. I noticed the guys on the street took a lot longer look at me. There seemed to be a lot of odd little things like seeing the same guy in every aisle of the grocery store when I shopped.

Then one night when we were out it happened. I left the table to walk to the ladies room. This was probably our first night out since the surgery. As I made my way to the powder room I noticed that just about every guy in there was watching me. I also noticed most of their dates or wives were giving me the evil eye.

Then it hit me that I had become "that girl". And I fucking loved it.

After that I would go out of my way to attract attention. I dressed nicer and while not slutty definitely sexier.

I began to need the attention of strangers. I know Doug told you I seemed unimpressed with his praise and seemed to crave it from others but I don't think he knew how much that was true.

I felt like I'd lived most of my life in the shadows and now finally got to enjoy the limelight. Sadly I know now that I also associated Doug with the shadow life.

It was magical really. I loved all the new attention and it became my drug.

But the magic didn't last. People still said nice things, I could still turn more men's heads than ever before in my life but my old habits came back to haunt me.

My face no longer an issue I began to focus on my other flaw. My breasts or more to the point lack of them.

Doug was not onboard with the idea at all. I did finally win his begrudged acceptance but I know he never really felt it was something I needed.

But with much less time and pain than the jaw I was the proud new owner of a set of D cup tits. Yeah I know up till now they were my breasts, well that was for the little A cups I used to have, these were tits damn it.

I loved the way they looked on me. I loved that they were firm and even with my new size I really didn't need a bra. And I loved how my clothes all fit and looked better with them.

The problem is they are only supposed to be seen by a limited audience. What good is that? You don't hang works of art in a closet do you? Of course not beauty is meant to be shared and seen.

So yes to be honest here I was way too free about who got to see them, hell I wanted everyone to see them. I hid the old ones for my whole life because they embarrassed me. I was just letting the world know there had been some changes.

It became the first real serious fight Doug and I ever had. And he was right I knew that even then. So I toned it down a lot. And at least when Doug was there I kept the girls under wraps.

Doug said something about my flirting; well yeah it was bad enough when he was there. If I went anywhere by myself there were guys hitting on me. Hell I had good looking women hitting on me. And if he wasn't there to be offended by it well what harm did it do.

Then Rachel came to work with me.

Rachel didn't know me or my history. She saw me as I was then and just accepted I'd always been that way. Rachel was "that girl" in any room. She had always been "that girl" so she wouldn't understand my life.

We were assigned to work together so I could show her the ways things ran around the place. That led to us becoming friends and then to nights out after work.

Rachel and I together always caused a lot of men's heads to turn. It was a running joke between us when we would go out. Hell nights out with Rachel were easy, and free. I don't think either of us ever had to buy our own drinks.

Looking back I can see the whole thing coming apart but in the moment it was all just two girls having fun.

The first time I cheated on Doug isn't what he saw, or who he saw me with, it was with Rachel. It happened one night when we were drinking and teasing the guys as usual. I mentioned flashing the bar to really blow their minds. Rachel asked me if I really wanted to drive the men nuts and I said sure. At that she turned to me and began kissing me, not just playing but really kissing me.

I'd love to say I was shocked and hurt or anything that would make you all believe that I didn't enjoy it but I'd be lying. She was so wonderful to kiss. So soft and so feminine and she smelled wonderful.

We left the bar early that night but I got home pretty late. It was my first time with woman but I knew I'd do it again if she even hinted she wanted to.

It wasn't Rachel's first time with a girl. I knew that without asking by the way she was with me that first time.

We went to her place and before the door had closed completely we were in each others arms kissing deeply. Nobody had ever kissed me like she did, Doug came close but with a girl is was different. Not better really just somehow more exciting because we were not supposed to be doing that.

She wasn't supposed to remove my clothes either. She wasn't supposed to be naked herself and pressed against me like this.

I wasn't supposed to be laying naked in her bed as she kissed me much like my husband did but with softer lips and long soft hair draping over our faces.

Her lips traced over my body from my own lips to my neck then lower each tender kiss making me jump. Her lips found their way to one of my nipples and I was so happy that I hadn't lost any of the wonderful sensitivity in them from the implants.

The first of my many orgasms was shorly after she began to lick and suck that nipple. She explored my body much like my husband did, but it was like she already knew it.

I was hooked after the first kiss in her apartment, I won't lie. But when I was writhing around her bed both trying to get away from and pressing harder against her mouth and tongue as she lashed at my clit I was all hers.

I don't want to relive all of it but I can't tell you I truely regret it. I do regret that I cheated on Doug with another woman, I wish we could have talked about and maybe shared that experience but maybe that would have been worse.

That night seemed to shatter some barriers and soon the two of us were trying to outdo the other when it came to our nights out. I'm sure Rachel took more than one of our admirer's home. But I just led them on and left them at least I managed to do that for a long time.

Then Doug and I began to argue about the nights out, Rachel being a bad friend, and us. I should have known enough to stop it all right then.

Doug's mind is a curious thing. I'd known him long enough to know how it worked. Thing is I thought I knew the secret, that is if there isn't a trigger point his mind doesn't react. Once he is thinking about something he simply cannot stop until it is solved. But if there is nothing to start the process then there is no problem to solve.

Most of the damage had been done before we fought about Rachel, no I hadn't had sex, well not full sex anyway, with another man but there had been too many things I knew were across the line. And yeah Rachel and I had been way across that line more than once together.

I won't lie anymore; I knew it was wrong to do the things I was doing behind his back. Trouble was it can be all too easy to forget that while in the moment. All too easy to tell myself that what he didn't know would not hurt him.

Besides the only person I'd actually fucked up till then was Rachel and isn't it every man's fantasy to see two women together?

With guys filling my head full of compliments and Rachel filling it with encouragement there wasn't room left to worry with Doug or our relationship at the moment.

I should have known that my trying to avoid answering Doug when he asked about the nights out was a stupid thing. A half answer is worse than no answer with him. But either one would be enough to awaken the machine. And once awakened the machine would work until the problem was solved.

Anger at Doug's jealous reaction to me having some fun with my friend and my own ever increasing curiosity got the better of me. I let a man fuck me.

And that's all it was. We didn't make love, there was no tenderness, and it was just sex. He took me in the back seat of his car in the parking lot. It was a session of just hard fast fucking. There was little or no foreplay since we had done most of that out in public at the bar.