tagInterracial LoveHow Cara Learned to Stop Worrying Ch. 02

How Cara Learned to Stop Worrying Ch. 02


Chapter 2 -- Cara and Keiji meet...in his car.

I decided to skip going back to the office; I knew the night was a bust and I was in no shape to sit over a box full of work papers. Instead I drove home from the middle school with a blur of tears wavering in and out of my vision. I couldn't seem to stop crying, just as I couldn't seem to stop myself from having sex with a stranger during my son's school play. I knew I would have to come up with a solid lie about my early departure to convince Evan -- there's no faking and making it with that kid. He even knew when I switched grape jelly brands on him at age two. (For future reference: He's a Welch's guy.)

As soon as I got home I stripped off my clothes (giving my sodden panties a lingering glance before I tossed them in the hamper) and got in the shower, hoping the hot water would soothe me. Still, I knew that what might be happening inside of me couldn't be changed by washing my skin.

As I stepped out of the shower my answer to Evan's inevitable questions came to me -- I heard Keiji's voice telling me about Sachi's bad cough. That was it! I'd tell my son I started to feel ill during the second act. Bad salad dressing from dinner, sure. To make it up to him I would go to the second showing tomorrow. With any luck, Keiji Nakamura would not be in attendance.


No such luck.

I woke up with leftover dream wisps of soft lips on mine and a hard cock taking me to the edge over and over. My pussy was sore in a knowingly satisfied sort of way. I cursed my traitorous subconscious and jumped straight into another shower, this one colder than last night's. As the water raised goose bumps on my skin I pondered Sachi avoidance tactics -- arrive early or arrive late? I doubted that Keiji had mentioned meeting me (Ha! "Meeting!") but I didn't think I could keep from turning bright red when I saw her, even if she was innocent of my liaison with her brother. Evan decided for me when he asked for a ride to the school for pre-show prep. I hung out backstage for as long as possible, enjoying the camaraderie of the drama club and watching the young makeup artists transform their friends into characters. Eventually it was time for me to join the audience. I took a deep breath and peeked around the curtain. Saturday's crowd was a bit smaller than Friday's, but it was still hard to pick out who was who. I'd just have to take my chances. I hurried down the center aisle and made my way into a middle row, hoping to blend in. The seats on my left and right filled up and I felt safe.

I fiddled with my phone to pass the remaining minutes before the start of the show. Imagine my delight when I heard a bright greeting (followed by a muffled cough).

"Cara! Hi! I'm so glad to see you here today! Aren't you super excited for Hana and Evan? I heard they were amazing! Were they amazing? Did you come to last night's show?" Sachi gushed as she made her way into the row behind me.

I turned around, and there he was. His face was like a tractor beam for my eyeballs and I couldn't stop myself from half-gaping at him. Once more he was the picture of casual perfection in a dark jean jacket and a chest-hugging sweater; his hair looked a bit wet as if he had recently emerged from a shower. Infuriatingly hot. (I had eschewed all makeup and dressed in an oversized hooded sweatshirt with threadbare leggings. I brushed my hair for Evan's sake.) We made brief eye contact and then he found something fascinating to look at in the stage light fixtures overhead.

"Um, ah, yes, I did. I mean, sort of, I kind of had to leave early. Got sick," I muttered. Sachi looked pained as she reached out to pat my shoulder.

"What a shame! I hate the fall! Everyone's sniffling around. And of course I'm not helping by showing up with my cold, but I can't miss my baby's first big production. I just can't. She's worked so hard!"

Sachi settled into her seat; she remembered her companion when he dropped into the seat next to her like a sack of flour. Now he opted to look at the floor instead of the ceiling. I was still unable to look away from him for more than ten seconds. When Sachi spoke again I willed myself to focus on her.

"Oh, jeez! Cara, I forgot to introduce my little brother, Keiji. People say we look a lot alike, hahaha, poor thing! He was here last night to rah-rah-rah for Hana in my place, but I'm taking these crazy pills for my cold and the bottle says you shouldn't drive and to be honest I feel like I could nod off any second. Anyway, he's my driver. And he's also a graphic designer, hahaha! Keiji, this is Cara Brennan, Evan's mom. I think you know Evan? He's been to my place a lot with the troupe. He's the lead boy!"

Sachi didn't sound like she was about to nod off. She sounded like she was on speed. Fortunately she was already rifling through her purse for another tissue and didn't notice Keiji and me umming and ahhing our way through acknowledging each other without actually looking, speaking, or touching.

I turned back to face the stage, embarrassed and fuming. Fuming because of what happened yesterday. Fuming because I was stupid enough to forget about the rows in front of and behind me. Fuming because just his presence in the room could make me feel like a horny teenager. Despite my negative emotions I had to fight an overwhelming urge to turn, just to see him once more. I crossed my legs and hunched forward in my seat, teeth gritted, determined to watch the damned play and be amazed by my amazing son and leave the school unsullied by any primal urges.

No such luck.

I wasn't able to shake a feeling of being watched, but I made it through the entire play without dwelling on Keiji. I'll pat myself on the back for that mental feat. To credit the kids and the director of the play, the performance was entertaining and lively. Keiji and I studiously ignored one another during intermissions; Sachi seemed lulled by the dim lights of the auditorium and didn't speak to me until the performance was over. The actual trouble came after the bows and applause (and a few maternal tears on my part, I must admit). Evan shook me off after one too many bear hugs and asked if he could go out with the rest of the drama kids for a celebratory pizza.

"Don't you have homework, Ev?" (I have to ask this question. Pretty sure it's in the baby handbook they give you at the hospital.)

"Mo-ooom. It's Saturday."

I tried.

"Okay, okay. Please be home before ten. I'd like to actually see you a little bit this weekend, Shakespeare." When Evan's brow furrowed in response to my gentle chiding I held up both hands and backed away, laughing. Fourteen isn't as tough as four, but I can't wait for fifteen. I hear it has 10% less angst. We exchanged goodbye waves and he turned to his friends. I headed for the parking lot, jingling my keys and doing my best not to look over my shoulder, as if Keiji Nakamura was susceptible to object impermanence.

I heard a plaintive call behind me just as my feet hit the pavement of the lot. "Cara, wait! Please." Lalala, I can't hear you...

A hand settled on my shoulder. I whirled around, fists raised.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," he said in a low voice, taking his hand off of me and backing up a step. My eyes filled with tears as I felt tormented by conflicting, uncontrollable emotions: relief that he cared enough to talk to me again, anger that he had the gall to do it in such a public place, shock at my own volatility. Cara, what did you expect? It's not like you gave him your number last night. You freaked out like a stupid kid and now you're doing it again. You've made everything so awkward, you idiot.

"Stop!" I said, more to myself than him. I pressed my fists to my eyes to stop the tears. I'm an ugly crier, and besides, we needed to talk. If we were going to talk I wasn't going to snort snot through the whole thing. Damn it, I'm a senior manager at a large tax firm. The only thing that made me cry in my pre-Keiji life was the middle of April.

"Can we—" he whispered.

"Yes, of course, can we just not do it in the middle of the parking lot?" I interrupted, gesturing at an imagined multitude of gawkers. (In truth there weren't many people outside -- most of the audience had gone home long before the hardcore drama fans like Sachi and me. Plus it was windy, cold, and getting dark.)

"Uh, well, I have to drive Sachi home, I mean, she'll be in there with Hana for another fifteen minutes at least. She'll talk everyone's ear off and probably organize a bake sale while she's at it. I thought maybe we could clear the air a little bit? I'm not sure what happened yesterday but I feel kind of terrible about it."

I found myself staring at him yet again, this time incredulous. Not sure what happened? Not sure?

"Keiji..." I shook my head and chuckled at the ground.

"Let's sit in my car. Okay?" He took a tentative step toward me and offered his hand. I stared at it like it might bite before my other (insane, autopilot) half took over again. My hand shot out and hung onto his greedily. His hand was very warm. I had a brief, lurid flashback of his palm slipping on the wall, his low moan, my wet pussy gripping him, the sensation of him spurting so hot on the inside of me. Which is why we are here today, boys and girls.

"Fuck," I muttered to myself, not sure if I was digging the memory or regretting it.

"What?" he asked, giving me a concerned look as we approached a black Toyota. Was everything this guy owned black?

"Uh, nothing. Hey, I have a Toyota, too." Holy crap. Dorkus malorkus alert.

"Uhh...cool. I hear they're pretty popular. I'll get the door for you." The car bleeped a bitchy tone, he opened the door, and I slid onto a black leather seat. Black leather, like my jacket last night -- Oh my god, will you please stop now. He slipped into the driver's seat and started the engine. "Sorry it's so cold in here, I just couldn't think of a better place." He hunched into his jacket and looked at me with apprehension, waiting for a response. I sighed and decided to start simple.

"You don't control the weather. No need to apologize for that. Uh. We do need to talk about yesterday, though."

He nodded. Go on, go on.

"I just. I don't know what came over me yesterday. I mean with the...with you, I never do that kind of thing! Ever!" I paused, expecting a "Me either!" When it didn't come, I sighed again and soldiered on.

"Not only was that the first time I had sex with someone I just met, that was only the second time I have had unprotected sex. The first time I did it gave me the reason to be at this school today." He stared at me like I was speaking in tongues. I couldn't tell if he was baffled, or appalled, or bored, or having a stroke. I kept talking.

"I am freaking the fuck out here. A) What if I get pregnant and B) Are you clean? Please tell me the truth before I go to my doctor and she tells me I'm riddled with disease as well as knocked up with triplets because I'm too fucking stupid at age THIRTY-FUCKING-FIVE to use a condom when I decide to screw a stranger."

Tears threatened again. I guess Keiji thought he had to press his unmute button lest I dissolve into a puddle of salt water and expletives.

"Cara, I'm not sick. I swear to you. I get tested on a regular basis." Regular basis? Like once every couple of years? Bi-annually? Weekly? He confirmed my worst suspicions when he continued, almost as an aside. "That was really your first time doing that?"

"Jesus fucking Christ on a Ritz! Do you do that with every person you meet? Is that your idea of a normal first date?" I sat back in the passenger seat after this outburst and closed my eyes. I needed a drink.

"Umm, no. Not with everyone." I opened my eyes and looked at him pointedly. He started waving his hands around in a warding-off-the-crazy gesture. "I don't think it's a good idea to get into that conversation now. Just know that yesterday I was clean, today I'm clean, and I'm really sorry for causing you any pain or worry. Yesterday you were so--enthusiastic? I kind of assumed you had birth control covered."

My expression, which had softened somewhat during his apology, regressed to murderous.

"How old are you, Keiji! Sachi said you're her little brother, so what, should I assume from that last bullshit statement that you're oh, I don't know. 19? Maybe pushing 20?" I leaned toward him, trying to keep my voice level. "Why do you think I am so upset? I told you. I NEVER DO THIS SHIT. I NEVER ASSUME. I don't make the same mistake twice!" Oh god, angry tears. Unstoppable force of nature. I felt my body trembling all over, whether from anger or fear or the agony of confronting him, I didn't know. He bit his lower lip as he tried to think of a reply that wouldn't make me separate his head from his neck.

"I'm 33. And usually I don't assume but I admit that I got carried away. I -- you were, you are very attractive --" (at this point I scoffed and he sped up his delivery) "—and what I'm trying to say is that I screwed up, and having unprotected sex isn't something I do as a matter of course, and I'm so, so sorry. I'm sorry I had an epic asshole moment with you, because you seem like a really nice person and it was so awesome up until I lost my mind." He tensed for my rebuttal.

I started to laugh. Yeah, I sure was acting like a "really nice person." As far as I could tell we were both epic assholes; he was just the calm asshole yin to my psycho asshole yang. His choice of words was perfect, though, since I felt ready to be committed any time I was around him.

"I just met you, but I want to believe you. Christ. How stupid can two grown-ass adults be. Okay. Fine. You're clean. I am still going to my doctor as soon as possible. And if you're lying to me I'll kill myself and then haunt you." I sighed for the thousandth time and wiped away the tears that kept slipping out of my eyes. I tried to maintain a grip on some shred of rationality and tone down the hysterics. Yes, we were fuck ups, but I saw no reason for Keiji to lie about any of this. He would find it difficult to fade away if he was being untruthful -- I knew his sister, his niece and my son were friends. And if I was pregnant...as if he could read my thoughts, he spoke up.

"Yeah let's—let's wait and cross that bridge when we come to it. If we come to it. Can I have your number? Or your email?" We exchanged information. Afterwards he looked over his shoulder at the door of the school. No Sachi yet.

"I know, I know, I should probably clear out soon or we'll have a lot of explaining to do regarding Act Four of Our Town: The Teacher's Lounge." In spite of myself I couldn't keep the smile out of my voice. He returned my smile with a shy, faraway grin.

"I really, really liked the lounge," he mused. "It had such a superb ambiance, don't you agree?"

My smile turned into a laugh and I moved toward him on instinct, wanting to thank him for being good-natured in the face of my freak out. I leaned over the gear shift and kissed him on the mouth once, twice, and lost my nerve. I was about to sit back in my seat and apologize when he cupped my head from behind, holding me in place for a long, searching kiss. Once more I was floored that this person, although obviously as flawed as me in certain ways, this beautiful person wanted to touch me like this. Like yesterday, though, I found my old nagging self easier to ignore when Keiji was nearby. I shrugged and kissed him back, feeling a hot sensation begin to stir deep in the pit of my stomach and travel downward. When the kiss was over I kept still, dazed, and didn't open my eyes for several seconds. When I did he was looking back over his shoulder.


"No, no. Not there yet," he said, a little out of breath. "Cara." He sounded like he was trying out the flavor of my name. I wanted to taste him again. He pulled me on top of him, pushing the lever to move his seat back at the same time. I sat in his lap, continued our kiss and felt entirely too clothed for my own good. He ran his hands up and under my sweatshirt, touching my ribs and sliding around to the cups of my bra. My nipples felt like they were going to rip through the padding as he lightly squeezed my breasts. I felt his erection rubbing me through the thin material of my leggings; I didn't refrain from grinding my own unmistakably erect clit against it. Beneath my shirt he dragged my bra cups down and didn't tease me for long before gripping my nipples in his fingers and giving them a gentle twist. I let out a loud, desperate moan. I was surprised again by the immediate force of my arousal -- I had been with men before, I was no simpering virgin, I didn't consider myself particularly inhibited -- but being with Keiji changed the flavor of sex from vanilla (sweet enough, but you don't really remember it later) to double espresso chocolate fudge with caramel swirl (mind and pussy blown). I had dry-humped Adam the Auditor, too, but that was a perfunctory fondle through our business casual suit pants compared to how I felt now -- clobbered by my need to have him, to be had by him. I was light years away from dry. I was about to come in my laundry-day leggings, to be quite fucking honest.

Keiji, ever perceptive, released one nipple so that he could reach down between us and apply pressure in an exact place with the exact circular motion I needed.

There was no time to think of something poetic to say. "Oh, fuck. Oh fuck!" was all I managed before he brought me to a shuddering climax, taking his score up to three. I was incapable of doing simple arithmetic for the next several seconds, but after I came down I was pretty sure I owed him at least one. He gave me a light hug, sharing my orgasmic afterglow, but then I remembered where we were (In public! AGAIN!) and hastened to unzip his pants.

"How much time do we have left?" I asked, reaching under his waistband to grip a hot, jumpy cock.

"Umm," he said, unhelpful for the moment.

"Nevermind. You'll be as quick as I was. Right?"


I moved back into my own seat, and leaned over his hips. You know, I feel like this goes without saying but just in case there are some of you out there wondering: no, he wasn't sporting a 12 incher but it was a healthy length and his girth impressed me -- overall a damned fine example of peniskind. He was uncircumcised and the skin on his glans was smooth and velvety against my tongue. I made a mental note to take better care of him later (Oh, please let there be a later!), but this wasn't the time for subtlety. This was the time to suck him dry as fast as possible. I gripped his shaft in my right hand and began to pump up and down while swirling my tongue around the sensitive head of his cock. I gave his frenulum plenty of attention for good measure. Soon I was noting the tell-tale tightening of his balls and little jolts of what I like to call "dick lightning" racing from the base of his cock to the tip. Only a soft moan escaped his lips, but I received a forceful jet of cum to the back of the throat and was busy swallowing the rest of his load for the next few seconds.

I sat up, wiping my swollen lips with the back of my hand. Now it was his turn to bask. I watched his erection fade for a moment but then poked him gently in the stomach. His eyelids parted halfway.

"Keiji, I'm going. I'll call you as soon as I hear back from the MD." He nodded and closed his eyes again. "Sachi?" I prompted. He sat straight up, one knee bumping the wheel. The Toyota let out an abbreviated yelp. When he looked toward the school doors and didn't see his sister he groaned and lay back down on his side.

"Also, you might want to open the windows a little bit." They were covered in steam, at least in the front. I slipped out of his car without waiting for a reply and hurried across the lot to my own vehicle. I laughed as I remembered how uptight I had been at the beginning of our meeting, worried about being seen with him in the parking lot -- it turned out that there was quite a bit I would do with him in a parking lot. In spite of my lingering concerns I had a feeling I'd be waking up to some excellent dreams tomorrow morning.

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