Friends Become Lovers

Be forewarned, this entry contains words of a sexually explicit nature. If such things offend you, I advise against reading it.

I worked with Karen Schnell as a gate agent for America West Airlines. We became friends through spending a lot of time together at work. I cannot remember how our friendship transitioned into something more, but it somehow did. If memory serves me correctly, Karen pursued me more than I pursued her.

Karen was much older than me, about 12 years older. Still, notwithstanding a few facial wrinkles, she had the body of someone my same age, or even younger. Furthermore, Karen was very open-minded about things of a sexual nature. That was something I felt was highly enticing about her. I found myself wanting to go to bed with Karen. The problem was that I was still involved with Kristene Wilson, who lived in Texas.

There was a great distance that separated Kristene and I, so great that it was nearly impossible to continue a relationship unless one of us moved closer to the other. Neither of us was willing to do that, so we agreed to date other people and see what happened. Dating others led to the end of our relationship. Still, I had strong feelings for Kristene and didn’t want to sleep with anyone else, particularly Karen; until I was certain things were over with Kristene.

I told Kristene about Karen and she told me about another guy she was seeing. When I finally felt there would be no future for Kristene and I, I had a long conversation with her. In that conversation, we agreed that it was in both our best interests to break it off and just remain friends. I only have fond memories of Kristene. If the distance between us had not been so great, things might have turned out different.

After having made an official breakup with Kristene, I was free to date Karen without guilt, and to take the relationship to the next level (i.e., sex).

Karen and I made an easy transition from friends to lovers. She was a very passionate girlfriend, enjoying sex as much as I. She felt that she had missed out on some sexual experiences when she was younger, partly due to an early marriage. Now, several years after her divorce, she was desirous to experience some of those things she missed out on.

It became common for Karen and I to go out after work to the airport Hilton bar. Both Karen and I were smokers at that time and enjoyed the feeling of being in a place where we could do that freely. Also, we socialized with others who were there from America West. Up until that time, I had not drunk alcohol since high school. That changed, as I followed the crowd and began drinking again. It was light social drinking at first. Then, I drank to get drunk. It was the same with Karen. We seemed to be in unison with everything, even our bad habits.

We drank so much at the Hilton that we ended up staying in a room there on numerous occasions. This allowed us to continue another bad habit, sex. We got into all kinds of perversities, pushing the envelope of how depraved two people could get in a hotel room. It was thoroughly enjoyable.

As time went on, Karen and I ventured to stay at other hotels. The reason for this was twofold. First, we had enjoyed our experiences at the Hilton so much, experimenting with each other’s body, that we felt it might be exciting to do this in other locales, away from our domiciles. Second, Karen lived about 30 minutes from the airport in one direction and I lived that same distance away from the airport in the opposite direction. Not wanting to take an hour commute on a regular basis to get together, we settled on going to an airport hotel. We had sex in many of them, from the Ramada to the Motel 6. A note about the airport Motel 6, it was like Planes, Trains, and Automobiles. There was the airport on one side, a train track on another, and a car-rental agency on another.

About this same time, Karen became a flight attendant. That helped our arrangement, because she always had clothes and toiletries packed and ready to go, so she could go to a hotel with me and then return to work without ever having to go home. I began taking extra clothes with me so that I could do the same.

The most embarrassing moment of my life occurred when I was with Karen, though I was too drunk at the time to have known it. It came about due to a fantasy that Karen had about getting with her best friend, Melissa, sexually. The opportunity arose on Melissa’s birthday, as we had a private get-together with her and her boyfriend.

Melissa was a free-spirited girl and it was a strange situation she was in. She actually had two boyfriends at that time. One was a pilot and the other one worked in ground operations. On this particular birthday, she was with her ground maintenance boyfriend in the house of her pilot boyfriend. Go figure! Anyway, Karen and I joined her for some heavy drinking and partying.

Normally, I didn’t drink to the point of oblivion. However, that night was different. Melissa had gotten a hold of some marijuana somehow. I hadn’t smoked it since high school, but somehow find myself doing so for the sake of making everything go smoothly. I was pushing for Karen to fulfill her fantasy with Melissa. In fact, my birthday present to Melissa was a double-sided dong.

The effects of the pot somehow impaired my judgment of how much alcohol I should consume. After Melissa opened up my present to her, she began dirty dancing with Karen. During the dancing, I pounded down hard alcohol shots like they were going out of style. Then, Karen and Melissa began caressing each other and kissing. I felt that it was going to happen. Melissa suggested the four of us go skinny dipping in the pool and quickly removed her clothes and walked outside. What a perfect body she had!

Then the alcohol hit me hard. I guess that’s why it’s called “hard alcohol”. It was a total blackout for me, something I hadn’t experienced since (again) high school. The last thing I remember was watching Melissa walk down the steps of the pool, buck naked, her thoroughbred-like legs disappearing into the water.

I woke up a few hours later, in a bed at the house. Karen was kissing me and telling me to go back to sleep, which I did. The next morning, my head felt like it was going to explode. I hadn’t had my sure-fire hangover killer. (Normally, I would drink a full glass of water and take 1,000 mg of Ibuprofen after a night of heavy drinking. Doing that, I never had a big hangover.) The entire next day was a major drag.

A few days later, Karen and I were playing a board game. I don’t remember the name of the game, but part of it had to do with asking and answering questions about each other. I asked Karen what her most embarrassing moment was. She responded, “I kissed a guy right after I blew another guy.” I laughed. She said, “Don’t laugh, it was you.” I asked her if she kissed a guy after she blew me and she responded, “No, I kissed you after I blew a guy.” I quit laughing. “It was at Melissa’s party. She and I went down on her boyfriend. After we finished him off, I went in to check on you. That’s when you woke up and I kissed you.”

I immediately ran to the bathroom and brushed my teeth, although the incident had happened several days before. As I brushed my teeth, I was mad. I wasn’t at all mad at Karen. I was mad at myself. I could have been a part of all that fun, perhaps another blowjob recipient, if I hadn’t had drank so much. When I returned to Karen, I asked her what happened after that, if she hooked up with Melissa. “No,” She responded, “After that, we all just crashed.” So, my present of the double dildo was all for naught and Karen’s most embarrassing moment was, in reality, mine.

I don’t want to say that it was all about sex between Karen and me, because we were good friends too, but that seemed to be the focal point of our relationship. Realizing this, we both knew that we weren’t going anywhere. So, we had an amicable breakup.

Several months after Karen and I broke up, she stopped me in the airport at work. She was between flights. She told me that she was getting married to a pilot and moving to San Diego to live with him (on his yacht, if memory serves me correctly). I was happy for her and feel that that pilot is a lucky guy. I wish her all the best.

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