Karen Ch. 01

We spoke awhile longer. Eileen told me although she enjoyed my story; ("Hell, I came like a cheap slut."), her brand of sex was more aggressive and controlling—with her being in control. She inquired if a woman in charge bothered me? When I told her it would be refreshing, she laughed and commented she would ask me again in a couple of months.

As it was getting late, we made a date for dinner and 'whatever' the next evening. 'Whatever' was basically an evening of sex if things went well; or a kiss on the cheek and a promise to stay in touch if things did not. Dinner went well. Eileen was 100% class! We went back to her apartment.

True to her word, Eileen's sexual style was very aggressive and dominant. She wanted what she wanted when she wanted it; period end. The first order of business was a body inspection. I was told to strip and stand naked in her living room while she got us a glass of wine. When she returned, Eileen was also naked. Her body was delicious.

Her first comment was about my body hair. "It simply has to go!"

Her inspection was a bit slave auction-ish, but with an erotic flair. She told me she liked what she saw, gliding her hands all over my body. Standing in front of me she stared me into my eyes and told me she loved cock. Her hands were working my balls and shaft as she spoke.

Without warning she squatted in front of me and engulfed my whole rod with her mouth. Working her tongue around it, Eileen gave it five or six strong sucking pulls as her head bobbed over my pole. Standing back up, she returned her gaze to my eyes. Using both hands to massage my now soaked cock she spoke.

"I'm going to love using you. I can't wait to milk the cum from your cock. I love cum and you're going to love it too."

On those words, she squeezed a bit of pre-cum from my shaft onto the end of her painted fingernail. She brought it to her mouth; extending her tongue, she placed the drops of fluid upon its tip. Moving her mouth towards mine, Eileen frenched me, ensuring I shared in the delights of my pre-cum. I was so aroused at this point, I returned her kiss with passion.

Once we broke from the kiss, Eileen began speaking again.

"Good boy, Tim" she said with a smile. "Now let's see how you like this."

Eileen's hands went to her pussy. She used one hand to spread her lips while she slid two of her painted fingers in. She pumped her twat a couple of times before removing her fingers. From the squishing sounds, I knew her fingers were soaked.

Not a second went by before Eileen had those fingers in my mouth. It wasn't so much an offering to taste; as it was more of a wiping her fingers clean; first using my mouth and then my lips and face. Her hand was moving fluids all over my face. I tried to follow her movements with my tongue, but Eileen was too aggressive.

"You like pussy juice, Tim. Then get down on your knees and suck it from my cunt."

Eileen pushed down on my shoulders and I moved with out hesitation. She parted her legs and grabbed the hair on the back as she shoved my face into her snatch. I lapped at her twat with fury. Her power was making me extremely horny. Being controlled was an experience I was finding intoxicating.

"Suck my cunt. Shove your tongue in my hole. Yes....that's it. Eat me. Now suck my clit. Pull it into your mouth. Use the clit rod. Oh my god, that's it. Suck it. Suck it."

Eileen's body shook as her pussy juice soaked my face. This was just the first of numerous orgasms for Eileen that night. For me, the rest of the night was a blur.

I went home shaved and sore. My balls hurt from cumming so often. My derriere was a bit tender too as I had the first ass fucking of my life. Eileen told me to get used to it.

Over the next year, Eileen turned me into her play toy. She did things to me I never dreamt of; many of which I never even heard about. The interesting thing about our relationship was it wasn't progressing beyond sex. I wondered why she needed an educated man. All she really needed was a horse!

Eileen kept saying when her schedule eased up, we would take the time to do more couple-like things. She did work a lot; too many hours and too many days at a time. There were periods of a week or two when I wouldn't see her. Then we would fuck, or should I say Eileen would violate me for two or three days and then she'd go back to work.

On the plus side of not having a 'commitment' type relationship was being able to stay active in the bar scene. Eileen's solid sex sessions kept me satisfied which in turn allowed me to meet other women without the need for immediate sex. Ironically, I was meeting some wonderful women: women who were great cooks; great conversationalists; funny; women who loved to travel and do things.

Sex on the other hand was a different story. I am not saying all the women were lousy in bed; but Eileen and her kinky ways had raised the bar on what was 'normal' sex for me. Believe it or not, my hairless anatomy caused more than one woman to back off instantly. For those who could handle my smoothness, they faced the anal hurdle!

Anal had become a passion for me. The feel of a woman's anus responding to my tongue drove me wild. The whole concept of anal play is so erotic. I enjoyed giving as well as receiving. Being fucked in the ass is incredible; but it is such a taboo for so many.

There were a few women with the potential to be truly kinky. However, unlike the stories, not all move quickly into kink. The process is slow and steady. One needs to understand what turns them on and build from there. On the negative side, most of these women were looking for a monogamous, long-term relationship.

Anyway, back to Eileen. The whole relationship fell apart one Saturday morning. I was having a cup of coffee, reading the paper when my door bell rang. Answering the door I was greeted by an officially dressed couple. They introduced themselves as Detectives Malloy (male) and Henderson (female) while presenting badges. Henderson looked familiar, but the impact of two cops at my door pushed aside any inquisitiveness.

They asked me if I was Timothy Miller and I confirmed I was. Producing a picture of Eileen, they asked me if I knew the lady in the picture. Stunned I stammered out her name, Eileen O'Donnell. The shot each other a quick glance and asked if they could come in. They didn't wait for my reply. They went into my kitchen and sat down at the table.

They began to ask me questions about Eileen: How long did I know her? What did she do for a living? Did I know where she was at the moment? What did I do for a living? It was all very strange. I answered everything truthfully. I explained how we met about a year ago and our relationship was physical. I needed to know why they were there.

The two detectives stared at each other for a moment before Henderson gave Malloy the nod. Malloy began, and his story was mesmerizing. Eileen was actually Abby Parkins, Patricia Heath, Corrine Glen and a few others. Her real name was Elizabeth O'Toole. Her training was truly nursing, but her occupation was "the inside person" for drug shipment heists to hospitals.

She and her husband, Dr. Phillip O'Toole, worked as a team to divert medical grade narcotics to the mob. The O'Tooles got started in the business after amassing huge gambling debts. Dr. O'Toole was into the mob for hundreds of thousands of dollars. His only way out was to divert the narcotics in lieu of cash. As most things go, once in, you're always in.

His wife, Elizabeth, shared in the debt and was forced into working with her husband. Although they were still technically married, they had not shared the same residence for years. Elizabeth hated what her husband had done to their lives and wanted out. She felt betrayed, but realized she needed to right this wrong. She vowed to do what she had to and then split.

It wasn't as easy as she thought. Once they pulled one diversion, the mob wanted more. They were in deep. They were facing federal charges and significant prison time.

About two years ago, warrants went out for their arrest. Dr. O'Toole was apprehended quickly because he remained in their home. Elizabeth went on the run and has been running ever since.

Malloy told me it was our relationship which helped track Eileen down.

Detective Henderson picked it up from here. She lives directly below O'Toole's apartment. Every time we would get together the noise of the bed, the moans, the vulgarity of O'Toole's commands could be heard clearly through the thin floors of the apartment. What surprised Henderson was the duration of things. She would hear us for days and then nothing.

Finally curiosity got the best of her. One day while her ceiling was bouncing, Henderson decided she was going to find out who these people were. Being a detective she was trained in listening and that weekend, while reading in her living room, she heard the upstairs door open and multiple footsteps going down the hall. Henderson said she ran out of her apartment and down her hall. She went to her mailbox in the lobby and watched as we walked down the stairs, one flight behind her.

I realized then where I saw her. I must say I was a bit embarrassed. How much of our 'sessions' did she really hear? Did she hear Eileen command me to lick her asshole? Did she hear me beg to be fucked? As I studied Henderson, the thought of sucking her cunt entered my mind. Eileen did turn me into a first-class pig.

Henderson went on. She was assigned to a narcotics case where shipments were being diverted from hospitals. All the hospitals were local and the pattern was exactly the same. This logically led to the job being pulled by the same group. All indications were an inside job. Henderson did a check of the databases for any common personnel. None showed up.

Still puzzled, Henderson did a look up on each of the hospitals web sites for personnel. Ironically, the first hospital had Eileen's picture. But the listed name was Patricia Heath. This caught her attention as she was sure the name on the apartment mail box was E. O'Donnell. When another hospital had Eileen's picture and the name was Corrine Glen, she knew she was on to something.

It took a couple of weeks to connect Eileen with Elizabeth and the federal warrant. The problem now became me. Who was this guy and what was his connection to all of this? It took nearly two months before they realized I was just some guy having some kinky sex with a felon. Still, did I know anything?

This visit was a follow-up to confirm what they believed. I was nothing more than a 'john' being used for the felon's pleasure. Our Q&A session confirmed this.

Eileen was arrested and went to trial. I followed the whole thing with great interest. Thank god my name never came up in proceedings. I learned a great deal from the tabloids and was able to piece much together. Eileen worked at five different hospitals all under different names. She had complete documentation for all of her credentials along with bogus social security numbers. Amazing what the mob can do.

The trial painted a picture of a young woman, Eileen/Elizabeth, totally controlled by her husband, a doctor. She put complete trust in him and he broke it. She admitted she knew of some financial difficulties but was unaware of their magnitude. Still thinking they could pull out of their troubles, she agreed to his scheme; unaware of his involvement with the mob. Her testimony centered on betrayal by the man she loved.

She also agreed to work with the feds and the names and structure of the mob organization, as she knew it, were exposed. I felt it was a dangerous move on her part. However, I wasn't giving the advice.

On her side were the ten women and 2 gay male jurors, along with a female judge. Her attorney must have cost a bundle. In the end, Eileen/Elizabeth was sentenced to 4 years in prison. With good behavior she could be out in two and a half.

Wow!

A couple of months later I received a letter from the Federal Prison Camp in Alderson, West Virginia.

"Dear Tim,

I am sure you now understand why our relationship could not progress beyond the physical. In a strange way I am happy to have this over with. Was it fate to be living over the detective who arrested me?

As we had no official commitment, I cannot ask anything of you. I will ask you to read this letter completely.

My marriage to Phillip is dissolved. In two and a half years or so I expect to be released. What will I do with my life is still uncertain. My crimes have truly fucked up my options. I do have some time to figure it out.

Please believe me when I say our time together was special to me. I did use you solely for my pleasure and as a release. I thank you and I apologize.

When I told you we would do more couple-like things when things eased up, I meant it. You are a great person; a greater person than I deserve. I do have feelings for you; feelings deeper than what I displayed. My ad for a stable, well educated person lacking sexual limits and be willing to explore all aspects and avenues of kink was real. You met my criteria.

What I didn't realize was my life on the run would prevent me from exploring the stable, well educated portion. Our dinners out were always times of great angst for me. I knew it was only a matter of time before I would be arrested.

Another positive about my arrest is my life with the mob is over. I am no longer of value to them so I should be a free woman when I get out. At least I hope I am no longer of value to them.

If you choose to write to me, I will cherish each word. If not, I will understand. This will be my only letter to you. The ball is in your court.

In closing, I wish you the best.

Love,

Elizabeth"

The letter sat on my kitchen table for a week. Each night I read it. I knew from the start I would write back, but I needed to formulate what I was going to say and how it was going to be said.

We maintained correspondence over the next two years. I was always honest and I told Elizabeth about my relationships; none of which were serious. I told her I was 'mad at her' for turning me into such a pig and how she 'owed me' when she got out of the big house. In essence, I told her I was waiting for her.

Elizabeth agreed she 'owed me' and was looking forward to paybacks. She told me she learned quite a bit from a few of her new friends. God she could make me horny.

The two years went by quickly. Our letters were very warm and affectionate. I felt like we were actually getting closer.

When I learned of Liz's pending parole, I had decisions to make. Neither of the women I was 'bringing along' knew of each other, or about Liz. It was time to set things straight.

The first baring of my soul was with Kathy, a forty-three year old divorced school teacher, mother of four. Of the two she had the most baggage. She was burnt by her ex and it took years for her to begin to trust men again. Now, after eight months and some decent sex, I was about to drop a bomb on her.

I decided to tell her over dinner in a public place, just in case things didn't go well. Things didn't go well at all.

Her exact words were, "AFTER EIGHT FUCKING MONTHS YOU'RE TELLING ME YOU'RE BANGING SOME WHORE ON THE SIDE? AND YOU'RE INVOLVED WITH SOME FUCKING DYKE IN PRISON WHO PROBABLY WANTS TO SHOVE HER COCK UP YOUR FUCKING ASSHOLE!"

I've never seen fury like this in a person before. For some ironic reason I was glad to see her flip out. It gave me a glimpse of her 'fight' mode. (All relationships have a 'fight' mode.)

I studied her for a moment then responded calmly but truthfully. I figured 'what the hell' and decided to go for broke. I said, "Yes, No, Yes, Maybe and For Sure."

Kathy looked at me with an irritated, pissed, confused look on her face. "WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT? WHAT THE FUCK DOES 'YES, NO, YES, NO, YES, NO, MAYBE, MAYBE, SURE, SURE' MEAN? I'M PISSED AND YOU'RE PLAYING GAME SHOW HOST WITH ME?!!"

As calmly as possible, I told her those were my responses to her questions and comments about my other relationships. She still didn't get it. Kathy's anger made her spew forth knee jerk remarks she didn't even remember saying. I explained.

"Yes; I am involved with another woman. No; she is not a whore. Yes; I am involved with a woman in prison. Maybe; she probably has enjoyed other women while incarcerated. For sure; she is going to fuck me in the ass."

Kathy's mouth dropped. She stammered and became flush. Her voice was a bit lower when she asked, "You're telling me, you are going to allow this woman to fuck you in the ass?"

I couldn't tell where she was going with her question, so I stayed the course.

"Kathy, I love anal sex. The woman in prison was the one who turned me on to it in the first place. The thought of it drives me wild with lust. Using your tongue, fingers, toys and cock on someone is an unbelievable feeling. It's something I hoped we would get to in our relationship."

She just sat there mesmerized by my words. I continued.

"I'm interested in a long term relationship, but only with a woman open to the kinkier side of sex. I'm not sure who the woman will be. If you are willing to continue as we are; knowing about the other two women; and if you are willing to open your world to other sexual pleasures, then our relationship has a chance."

I could see Kathy's wits returning as her face began to turn crimson. I didn't think this was a good sign, she exploded!

"FUCK YOU," she screamed throwing her wine at me; glass and all. "WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK THIS IS; SOME KIND OF FUCKING EXPERIMENT? YOU WANT KINKY SEX? I'LL GIVE YOU KINKY SEX! GO FUCK YOURSELF!"

By this time she was standing and still screaming. Her attention was now turned to the patrons, waiters, waitresses and everyone else watching. Her tirade continued, but now she was talking to the crowd.

"TIMMY BOY HERE WANTS KINKY SEX EVERYBODY!"

At this point I just wanted to crawl under the table and die! Kathy was pointing at me.

"HE WANTS ME TO FUCK HIM IN THE ASS; PROBABLY WANTS ME TO PISS AND SHIT ON HIM TOO. PREVETED FUCKING COCKSUCKER!"

With those final words, Kathy flipped the table over onto my lap and stormed out of the restaurant.

I sat there adorned with water, wine, sauces, vegetables, fish, rice, plates, napkins and silverware. Two waiters and a waitress rushed to my aid. Slowly I stood as the contents of the table were removed from my body. Wiping myself off, I glanced around the room to see every eye trained on me.

Thinking quickly I spoke in a calm voice. "Please accept my apology for my date's behavior. I'm not sure, but for some reason I don't think things went too well tonight."

The place broke out with laughter. It was the right comment to break the tension. As people settled down, they went back to their meals and conversations. A few people made humorous replies as a sign of support. When I was as clean as I could be under the circumstances, I thanked the waiters and waitresses for their help and went to settle the bill. The 'meal' was on the house.

On the ride home I thought about what happened. Realizing I did the right thing by clearing the air, my next realization was my error in selecting a public location as well as my direct 'getting to the point' approach. Knowing I still needed to clear the air with Chloe, the other woman I was dating, I decided to tell her in a more private environment; just in case. Wanting to get this over with as soon as possible, I called her on my cell while driving home.

The second part follows....Chloe's chapter