Quick HJ with Israeli “Kardashian”

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Asa Akira

Just before I got engaged, I had a quick fling with a Jewish woman I met at a college reunion party. I did not know her when we were at school (she was four years younger; it was an open party for all alumni), but we hit it off. She liked that I was successful and in shape. I liked that she was hot as hell.

Mara was a petite brunette with a gym-honed body. Even though she was in her mid-30s, she had the physique of an athlete half her age. She had a toned stomach and rock-solid thighs. Her hair was a Rachel bob and her lips were, in a word, luscious.

Her breasts were mid-sized, I suppose, but she put them to good use. She always wanted me to start with them and tell her how much I loved them. She would literally make eye contact with me, then look at her breasts, as if to say, “Um, I think you forgot something.”

I had to say, “Fuck, your tits are amazing” or something like that for her to get back into the mood.

We needed each other. I was about to marry and move overseas. She was a divorcee with no man in her life and a daughter who split time between her and her ex-husband.

When I told Mara I was going through with my marriage and moving, she asked me one last favor. Could I come with her to a graduation party. Sure, why not? We had spent a really great month or so having fun, adventurous sex. I could grab a burger if that is what she wanted.

The party was for her step-sister, Alina. Her dad had a mid-life crisis after her mom died several years before, and went with younger women. Okay, fine, he owned his own company, had a big house and real estate in the US and Israel. It was his right, I guess.

Anyway, a Sephardi Israeli woman came into his life – I think she worked for him. I cannot remember. But she instantly ankara escort became his mistress and they married within months.

Mara once said, “Whatever she’s selling; he’s buying.”

Hell, I would have bought Sana. She was a bodacious Tunisian with huge breasts, flowing black hair, an ass for days, and the complete inability to walk anywhere with spiked heels. She was an outrageous flirt, touching men as she laughed at their jokes. She wore deep scooped blouses that drew your eyes to her prize. She was, in a word, amazing.

She was an Israeli Kardashian.

Alina was a miniature Sana. Born in Israel but raised mostly in the UK and US, she had the same exact look, though a bit darker skin. It was not just her incredible body – breasts, legs, lips, and hair. It was the way she looked at you. It made you want to throw your life away just to have her smile.

This was my impression within literally 15 seconds of meeting her.

Alina was wearing a bandage-style dress that just about covered her essentials. It was green and it barely covered her remarkable ass; though it had no cleavage and it covered her shoulders.

Her mother wore an identical dress, except in light blue. She was only about 20 years older than her daughter, so seeing them together was like a sexual overload.

“I cannot handle these two,” Mara said to me, as we settled down to eat. “Seeing my father with her is just too much. I appreciate your coming with me. I get so angry when I’m around them. I think they’re cleaning him out but it’s his life and his money, so what can I do?”

I heard her speaking but it was very hard to concentrate with these two Israeli beauties, to say nothing of Alina’s friends. She only invited four girls (the rest of the party elvankent escort being family and a few Israeli friends), but each was a bombshell in her own way. I remember they were all brunette and beautiful, but I do not know any names.

At some point, Mara went to talk to her dad and I went to the bathroom (which was incredibly beautiful; like being in a high end hotel or spa). As I left, I heard a conversation. It was a man with an American accent and Sana. It was a hushed, but heated conversation. She said something in Hebrew, which I did not understand. The man said, “English, you bitch. You know I can’t speak Hebrew.”

I stopped in the corridor. I felt like I was an intruder. I was standing between the kitchen and a bedroom suite on the first floor. I simply stood there and listened to the words from the bedroom.

“You know I can’t leave now. You know that.”

It was Sana and she was pleading. I thought, does he want her to leave the party and go with him? Are they lovers?

“You lead me on and tell me you’re going to come to me, and you stay! You stay with that old fucker! You let him touch you. You let him show you off like a prized horse! I’m sick of it.”

The American’s voice sounded younger, like late twenties. I recognized it now. It was from the one American I met at the party besides Mara’s dad. It was Mike. He was some friend of the family. I think Mara said he was a cousin. He was very athletic looking and I remember thinking he must have been into sports.

“You know, you know, you know…”

She said it over and over. That was it. Just those two words. Suddenly, I heard kissing noises. They were making out! Right in the bedroom!

I was horrified and excited and bemused, otele gelen escort all at the same time. What was I supposed to do? Listen? Walk past them? The door was ajar. Would they see me?

And just like that, like out of a dream, Alina is standing in the kitchen, watching me. I could not breathe. I was about to say sorry, she pointed a finger at me and put her other finger to her lips, saying “be quiet.”

This is the craziest part. She walks right past the room, right up to me, sticks her finger into my chest, pushes me back down the hallway to the bathroom, opens the door, and pulls me by the shirt into it. Without a word – not a fucking word – she makes the quiet sign again with her finger. She pulls down the top of her dress (which I did not think was possible), sits on the toilet seat, and pulls me to her. This is all without a word!

She quickly, expertly undoes my pants and pulls out my cock. Like she is doing her nails or washing a plate. She puts it into her mouth and pulls me forward. With her tongue, she swirls around and motions for me to push forward.

All without a word.

So there I am, quietly, silently face fucking this astounding young woman. My head is swimming as I make eye contact and look at her sunkissed breasts.

Not proud to say, I do not think I lasted 90 seconds. She drank it in and swallowed. Then, she looks at me, and while pulling up her dress, motions to me with her finger in front of her mouth.

“Nothing. Not a word. Or else.”

And she walks out of the bathroom, like she just touched up her lipstick.

I awkwardly pulled myself together and went back to the party. I heard the door close as I left the bathroom. I think Alina told Sana the door was open or just closed it herself. As I walked by, I could hear Mike saying, “You fucking bitch.”

Not sure the context, at that point.

I never told Mara. I never told anyone. I was still engaged and getting married and moving overseas, which I did.

And I never saw any of them again.

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