That Old Feeling

Karen lay in bed propped on her pillows, head resting on one arm while her other hand kneaded the tender folds hidden in her slippery delta. Her mind raced through the events of the night before like a video on fast forward. She could neither pause nor slow it down. Scenes replayed again and again, dreamlike, the soundtrack badly out of sequence. Frenzied fingers kept up their futile work, desperately she tried to clear her mind and bring herself back to the present.

The illuminated red digits of the alarm clock proclaimed it to be 7:06am in its extra large, three inch display window. She had been home only four hours and slept not a minute. The little boys in the far bedroom were beginning to stir and would soon be up and sneaking into the den to watch Saturday morning cartoons. The teenagers, in the other room, would sleep another four hours. Karen needed sleep too but knew it was not going to happen.

"Happy Birthday to the smartest member of the family," read the front of the Shoebox Greeting card. Karen plucked it from its niche in the tiered display and opened it, "But that's kind of like being the most civilized monkey in the zoo." She grinned and decided this was the perfect card for her sister's birthday. Katherine held the highest degree of education in the family and they were very proud of her but she was still a very difficult person to buy for. This card suited her to a tee.

Karen started toward the checkout, not paying any attention to the tables and racks of clearanced books, cards, and stationary. She found what she was looking for and was ready to get home where the dinner dishes were piled in the sink and the laundry was stacked on top of the dryer, awaiting her return. There were only a few other people in the store and it seemed as if everybody wanted to check out at once. Karen fiddled with a rack of bookmarks, the other impatient hand placed on her hip.

"Hi," came a whisper from behind. Karen's ears did not recognize it at first but her body remembered the intonation immediately. She slowly turned toward the voice and returned the greeting. She couldn't believe it was him. "How's it going?" he asked in a tone that let her know that he wasn't sure what to say next but did not wish to be silent either.

"Just fine." She gave the banal but polite reply, nodding her head at the same time as if to make it more believable. Her brain would not function properly at this moment. The best she could do was to echo his very words, "How are things with you?" but she was unsure if keeping this conversation going was a good idea.

"Fine, fine," he responded also nodding for emphasis.

The line ahead had disappeared but Karen hadn't noticed. The cashier cleared her throat with an impatient growl and Karen dropped the card on the counter. "Four fifty nine," she muttered to no one.

The moving van finally pulled away, leaving the family at 1205 Noble Avenue alone in their new home. Boxes were stacked everywhere and Mrs. Parks was in a hurry to get the unpacking done.

Karen was busy organizing and decorating her new room. It was huge and accommodated all her furniture well but she couldn't figure out how to hide the bright moon-glow-blue walls and carpet. "How could anyone sleep with the street lights shining in and electrifying all this blue?" she wondered out looud, and what would her new friends think? She new that her mother would be painting and having new carpet laid throughout the entire house in a short time. Hopefully her room would be first.

There was a distinctly masculine knock at the kitchen door. Karen heard her mother using her upbeat we've-got-company voice and from the faux "happy to have a diversion" sound of it, she surmised, it was a neighbor making an introduction. Karen returned to the chore of setting up her room until her mother called for her. "Oh great," Karen grumbled, obeying her mother's command.

The introduction marked the onset of a very long un-relationship. Jake had a pretty rough reputation and neighborhood gossip soon reached Karen's parents. They forbid Karen to socialize with him but this did not discourage her overly, she regularly managed excuses to see him anyway.

The cashier handed Karen a pen to sign the receipt. Karen quickly tucked her card back into her handbag and turned to say good bye but no sound came from her mouth. Instead, she smiled and quickly fled the store into the cool misting rain.

Halfway across the parking lot, he caught up with her. "In a hurry?"

"Uh, no, no not really." Not really in a hurry to return home, as expected, where four children awaited help with their homework before she could attempt to conquer the evening's chores, she meant.

"How about coffee?" he offered.

Karen knew accepting his offer was contemptible but before her good sense kicked in, her lips began to move, "Sure, that would be great."

They ordered chocolate raspberry, no cream, no sugar. His favorite too, he claimed.

The tiny shop beside The Book Mart was crowded. It was chess night and players of all ages huddled around the tables. There was little conversation in the room. A little whispering and an occasional group "awe" could be discerned as each player negotiated his next move. Karen and Jake leaned close to each other over the barely two foot square table to prevent having to talk above a whisper. Even still, a little chortle now and then earned dirty looks from the players at the next table.

They talked about the pathways they had taken in the past twenty years. Life had been a constant struggle and a series of not so good decisions for both. There were multiple marriages and children, responsibilities and priorities that brought both contentment and contrition.

They had talked for over an hour. Lying in bed this morning, Karen tried but could not remember any part of the conversation shared. Her hand fondled her breast, gliding down her abdomen until it reached thick dark curls. She twirled and twisted them around her fingers. His sparkling peridot eyes allured hers. When she could pull them away, there was the subtle movement of his lips as he spoke that would not allow her to concentrate on his words. As a teen, she had dreamt of touching those lips to hers. What would they taste like? She often had fantasied. Now she knew. Her stomach jumped and her finger circled and teased her swollen nub.

The evening's activities were breaking up. Karen looked up at the clock on the wall over the soda fountain and realized it was closing time. She hated for her visit with Jake to end but they had to leave and she really needed to get home. Karen was looking for the words to say good bye when Jake's knees caught hers between them. Startled, she gasped out loud before she could contain it.

Jake, pretending not to notice her embarrassment, leaned closer and asked if she'd like to go for a ride and talk some more. The answer, of course was "no way" but the throbbing in her seat was gaining in strength to the point she could hear it and knew it would not be squelched at home tonight, probably not this week. He must have heard it too. When she raised her eyes to his, he stood and hurried to take her chair and lead her from the café.

Neither spoke as they drove the glossy city streets. Karen peered out the windshield, vision distorted by iridescent raindrops, at flashing neon signs and passing cars. She felt his eyes and her skin grew warm. She didn't dare turn towards him.

"You're uncomfortable."

"I don't know what I'm doing here," she admitted.

"Me either."

"Stop at the park?"

The park was deserted and darkened with shadows. The neighborhood children called this "The Castle". Volunteers from the community had worked together to construct this play fortress of plastic, wood, and rubber tires. There were swings, slides, places to climb, and little nooks where only small children could fit all connected and enclosed so that parents could sit on the scattering of benches and relax while their children played within, unable to escape them. Karen and Jake strolled the pine mulch covered path to the center.

"Up here," Jake pointed.

"I can't get up there!" Karen protested.

"Sure you can. Just put your foot.....yeah, like that."

Once up, Karen found a covered Robinson Crusoe type tree fort complete with swinging bridge and fireman's pole. She glanced out through the peek hole and found herself gazing at the clear starry night and it's full moon, wondering why she had let herself do this. "Do what?" she fought with her conscience but she knew what she wanted tonight.

"Is your head stuck?"

"No," she murmured indignantly. Turning to face him, she bumped her head in the child size portal. They both laughed until they caught themselves staring at each other.

Jake broke the silence, "Forgive what I'm thinking."

"Show me what you are thinking," surprised by her own words.

She turned, it was 7:48am. The air-compressor turned on and cut off and then back on again. Her husband was out in the garage tinkering on something. She closed her eyes and traced the line between her clit and her creamy center. The television was on, she could here the channels flipping. Cereal was being poured into bowls. It was time for their mother to be up, yet she lay there still, not wanting the night before to be over, not wanting the fantasy to end.

His mouth covered hers solidly without giving her the opportunity to change her mind. His hands, tangled in her wet hair, held her to him. He was not going to let her pull away. "I never dreamt I'd ever have this opportunity but if I had, I would have never dreamt it here," he panted, their mouths still attached.

The rain was falling harder and a gust swept through the portal. Karen melted into him unsure how to respond. "My wife works third shift. Tammy and Tanya are at their mother's this weekend." Karen, still silent, knew what he was asking. With her face buried in his neck so that he couldn't read the uncertainty in her eyes, she nodded.

Jake pulled up against the curb in front of a single story cottage in the city's recently restored historical district. The entire block was dark. Not a single street lamp or porch light burned. He turned to Karen and took her hand in his, raising it to his lips. "I want you so badly," his breath sultry against her palm, "I always have.". Karen's fingers traced the line of Jake's lips as she had once fantasized, so long ago. Jake suckled her fingers exploring each one thoroughly. Jake's mouth moved down to her elbow and then back up to her shoulder and neck. When his tongue discovered her ear, he caught her velvety lobe between his teeth. Fog crept over the windshield, the rain beat heavily on the roof. His breath fiery, "Let's go in and get out of these wet clothes."

A single lamp burned in the tiny front room. Cozy, Karen thought. The walls were of milk chocolate, the furniture, white sand. A pale rug covered the darkened hardwood flooring, charred logs lay in a broken pile on the fireplace floor and on the mantle were pictures of two little girls Karen remembered seeing with their grandmother at church. There was no picture of Jake and no picture of, what was his wife's name?

"Like a drink?" Jake offered nervously.

"Sure."

"What?"

"What what?"

"What would you like?"

"Whatever you are pouring," Karen followed him to the kitchen. He poured a light colored wine with a Beach Haven label on the bottle into two water goblets.

"Wine glasses are too small. You keep having to get up and go back to the kitchen for more, " he explained. Karen smiled and nodded. He handed her a glass and directed her back to the livingroom. She sat on the couch and Jake sat on the coffee table facing her. "I can't believe you are here."

She had no voice.

"We need some music." Jake jumped up. The table screeched relief. He poked in a CD, "No, that's not right," and popped it back out again. "There." Softly, Rod Stewart's crooning, "You go to my head and you linger on and refrain and I find it spinning round in my brain like a bubble in a glass of champagne." filled the room just above a whisper. Jake returned to his seat on the table, sipped his wine and stared into Karen's deep coffee bean eyes. "I don't know where to start. Don't want to make a mistake." his voice almost trembled.

Karen took a sip, avoiding a response. She felt it too. They were practically strangers, both married to someone else, both wanting what should not be taken. Karen set her glass on the stone coaster and scooted to the edge of the couch to stand. She had made up her mind, just then, to do what was best for both of them.

Her body disobeyed. With her breasts pressed in Jake's face, her hands reached to release her blouse from her jeans. Her fingers hurriedly fumbled with the buttons.

Jake seized her mouth. Karen lapped at the fruity wine drop lingering on his succulent lower lip. Their tongues danced back and forth with the other. His gentle fingers grasped her thick, wet tangles, pulling her closer to him.

It was a mess she recalled as she mentally blocked the clamor from the other room. A sudden frenzy of hands tugging at clothing and clothing gone and hands on skin. The recollection along with her fingers busy in her slippery depths induced the intense desire to hurry up and finish this. Her legs grew tense and she flexed her toes while her free hand gripped the bed sheets. Her busy fingers brought her closer and closer to . . .

Jake was on top of her kissing her face, sucking her lips, biting her ears, and nibbling her neck. One knee on the floor and the other between her legs brushing, rubbing, then grinding until she could stand it no longer. He had to know what this was doing to her. She could feel her own wetness already spilling on the couch. Karen was sure she was going to scream if he didn't hurry up and . . . but he wasn't ready yet. Abruptly he shifted, pressing his face to her crotch, lapping and nibbling. Jake had her clit caught between his teeth with his fingers delving deep inside her. Karen twisted and turned, squirmed and tried all she could to free herself of his grasp. There was no use. This Jake, he was not the kind of guy that tickled a ladies fancy a couple times until she let out a little groan and then quit on her. No, he was intent on taking her all the way. She surrendered. With legs stretched out straight she sat almost upright and let out a long shrill shriek as electrified waves rushed from her middle to her breast and down again to her clenched toes.

Before she could take a breath he slid himself into her still pulsating dell. Slowly he moved back and forth with a devilish grin on his face as if he knew she had been holding back, trying to remain ladylike but he wasn't having it. She relaxed and let him take control once again. He'd been in control all night why fight it now.

His steady cadence was lulling her off to another world when she recognized that feeling, that not so familiar to her feeling. Karen almost never enjoys a good G-spot orgasm as it takes so long to arrive that her husband never bothers. That tingling feeling, it's started. Jake will never last that long, Karen thought. No way.

Then Jake stopped. Oh well, Karen smiled to herself. It was great while it lasted. But Jake put his hands on her hips and motioned for her to roll over. She complied lying sort of half on the couch, half off. Jake ran his finger from between her dimples in her lower back down her crack to her tight little whole and gently pushed it in. He slid in and out a little and around in circles. What are you doing she so badly wanted to ask but didn't dare. It did feel good and she was afraid he would stop if she seemed hesitant. Finally he removed his finger and she felt the head of his huge penis pressing against where his finger had been. She pressed her face in the couch pillow and groaned hard, bracing herself.

He pushed himself just barely in and there was pain. Karen screamed into the pillow. Jake eased himself in a little further and lay over her until the pain went away. "Jesus," she exclaimed, bringing her face out of the pillow.

"It'll get better in a minute, " he promised. And it did.

Slowly he raised himself and gently began his rhythm of pleasure. It did get better. It got really better. As his efforts became more urgent the feeling came back. He was hitting that tender spot dead on and she was about to lose control again. Screaming into the pillow she begged him, "Harder, do it harder. Right there!" And he did.

7:59am glared the bold red digits on Karen's alarm clock. Just as she was reaching that point when her toes curled and her heart pounded, there was a knock at the door. "Mom!" Austin wont let me. . . . "

"Oh hell."