VOLUPTUOUS KAREN 2.
As I said, I was very shy around women, and felt quite uneasy at
expressing my admiration for them. Especially women who particularly
appealed to me. Finally, Karen broke the ice, and in response to one of my
longing looks, put a hand on my shoulder, and asked, "You do find me
attractive, don't you?...as a woman...really, now, Brad."
"Mrs-um-Karen, if only you knew how much you affect me, there
wouldn't be any doubt in your mind at all."
"How do I affect you, Brad," she asked, her hand still on my
"I know it isn't what's supposed to happen, but being close to you
arouses me powerfully...there, I've said it. It had to be said." At this,
I covered her hand with my own and dared to give it a little squeeze. My
heart was racing.
"We musn't touch-ever," said Karen, as she withdrew her hand from
mine. The University would consider it a scandal-which I can't afford.
But, Lord help me, I need to feel attractive again....you'd really like to
see my naked body wouldn't you Brad?
"Yes I really, really would, Karen." Suddenly my mouth was so dry, I
scarcely got the words out.
"Well, I wouldn't feel so guilty if I did something to encourage you
in your studies...let me think...If you're a good boy, Brad, and show me
an "A" exam paper, I might just let you have a look, but only under
"Any conditions you say!" My surging hormones overcame my shyness
and I held her gaze with my own for many heartbeats.
Needless to say I buckled down even harder on my courses. In those days,
in competitive colleges, the profs didn't hand out A's just for showing
up for all the classes. And in the engineering courses I took that year, a
B-plus was considered a really desirable grade.
When I got a solid "A"in a tough American History mid-term, I was
thrilled beyond belief, for more reasons than one! On the way home, I
spent the last of my weekly cash on half a dozen roses for my sexy
landlady, to underline my devotion and affection. I tidied up the kitchen
extra well, and left the precious "A" exam booklet on the corner of the
table, with the flowers. I was half aroused for what seemed like hours.
The prolonged congestion in my private parts made me ache, a vaguely
pleasurable sensation .
"Oh you're a dear, Brad, I love roses" said Karen effusively. "It's
been too long since...since I received flowers...from a nice-looking young
man." Her face glowed ruddy through her olive-tan complexion, and I could
see for the first time how downright pretty she must have been before she
grew the double chin and the crinkled eyes. She made no mention of her
promise to me, and I was naturally hesitant to push her. I simply couldn't
bear the disappointment of her having changed her mind!
She made no further mention of the exam grade, sat well apart from me
while watching the tv news. I was crushed and highly strung out with
sexual tension. When she headed for her room I gathered up all my courage
and somehow mentioned that I had had a "special reason" to show her the
"Oh, Brad, dear, can you ever forgive me, I'm just so tired tonight,
I just can't do justice to your History "A" and those lovely roses! But
tomorrow, I promise to make it up to you. Will you think about me tonight
"Karen, you know I won't think of anything else!"
The next night was Saturday night. True to my parting word to Karen, I
could think of nothing all day but her promise. And her bod. To keep a
semblance of sanity, I walked for two hours along the bland streets of
Saturday, night, bedtime. Karen wearing her usual loose printed dress for
the late news. Her hair freshly brushed, a new perfume, a bit deeper
lipstick shade than usual. In accordance with her explicit instructions, I
stood in the passageway, five feet from her bedroom door, which on this
special night was wide open. With the electric lights out, she set a
lighted candle down on her bedside table and stood facing me so the
candlelight shone from her left side. I was not to utter a sound, nor
touch myself 'down there'. She slowly unbuttoned her dress from top to
bottom, and let it drop to the floor with a sgrug of her shoulders.
Tonight she had omitted wearing a bra, so I could see everything not
covered by her low-cut satiny white briefs. Karen's thighs glistened full,
smooth and beautifully curved. Her belly, partly encased by the panties,
was also somewhat full, but completely smooth, with a deep navel. Her
Earth-Mother bosom covered almost all of the front of her ribcage. The
deep shadows cast by the lone candle accentuated her incredibly lush
curves, exciting me beyond endurance. Still, it was too dark to discern
many details, so even afterwards, her body retained an aura of mystery.
After standing still as a statue for a minute or so, she gracefully turned
to face directly away from me, toward a mirror over the dresser. And as
she brushed her hair, her bent, raised arms allowed me to see the side
curves of both breasts at the same time, an astonishing sight. Then she
turned to the side and blew out the candle. I could hear the faint rustle
as she slipped under the covers.
I felt as if steam from my superheated blood would blow out of my ears
from the excitement, from the two or three minutes of forbidden intimacy.
No way I could have fallen asleep after that, except by masturbating to
the candle-lit images I had just witnessed.
Sunday morning, I awakened with a hard-on which would not go away. I
forced myself out of bed, shaved and then walked almost two miles to get
Karen's favorite newspaper. She made me leave the paper outside her
bedroom door, now closed. We shared breakfast, but she seemed slightly
distant and made no mention of the incredible events of the night
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