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I barely had any sleep that night, as my brain and my heart couldn’t get to a conclusion between guilt, excitement, fear, doubts and a few other ghosts that were circling my bed. Looking at my wife of so many years lying by my side, I couldn’t avoid feeling bad for having cheated on her, but if I closed my eyes and thought of Julie, my heart and my cock reacted almost instantly, telling me to push ahead.
The next day I scarcely did any work, waiting anxiously for the time to get Julie after college. I knew it was a risky thing to do, but after what I had done the day before it looked less scary and I tried to calm myself and not to think on everything that could go wrong, from some of her friends wanting to know who I was to someone I knew recognizing my car. Anyway, during the day I had already sent her a text confirming our “date” and she had answered me a single, laconic “yes”, and now it was too late to back down.
My heart was pumping hard when I stopped my car in front of her college at 6PM sharp, and its rhythm only increased during the ten minutes or so I had to wait while wondering if she had backed up. I was almost sending her a new text when I finally spotted her leaving the campus, this time wearing her “normal”, everyday clothing: jeans, a t-shirt with a big cat on the front and sneakers. Less than thirty seconds after that she was opening the passenger door by herself, as I didn’t risk leaving the car somewhere so public.
When I got a closer look at her, everything, every fear, guilt and doubt left me instantly. She looked so fragile, so small and so young on those clothes that I wanted to pick her up in my arms, to hold her and to take care of her. At the same time, the make-up she was using, adequate for her clothing but lots more than she used to wear when I first met her on the lift, made her so pretty, so sexy and so provocative that I could feel my body react, wanting to do things far more lascivious than hold her close. Anyway, I barely had time to process my feelings, for as soon as she got inside the car she said, with a sense of urgency:
“Let’s go before my friends leave the campus.”
Waking up and instantly realizing she was right, I started the car and drove while saying:
“I missed you very, very much, my sweet thing…”
She didn’t answer and kept looking to her lap as before. Not knowing what to do, I drove in silence for a minute or two until she finally spoke, this time looking at me:
“I… We need to talk.”
“Not here… I… Can we go somewhere we can stop the car?”
She sounded different, mature, and It got me worried. Maybe she had in fact told her mother? Oh, I would be so fucked… I tried to push the bad feelings away and, after thinking for some time, said:
“We could stop on the beach. At this time of the year and at this hour it will be almost deserted, and we can talk.”
“Can… Can you tell me what’s happening, my pearl?”
“Not here, please…”
By the way she said that last phrase I could see that she was nervous and anxious, too. In fact, it was as the young girl was instantly back, the maturity she expressed before already gone. A minute later, as we stopped on a traffic light, I looked at her, seeing that she was crying softly, making my heart sank. I almost tried to ask what was happening again, but controlled myself and kept driving to the beach.
Ten minutes later we arrived, and I drove all the way to the end of the beach to find an isolated spot where nobody would pass by. As soon as I stopped the car, I put some easy listening MP3s to play and, turning to her, said softly and lovingly:
“We’re here, my little thing. What is it? Why are you sad?”
She looked at me, her eyes full of tears, but didn’t speak. I couldn’t help anymore and, taking off the seatbelt, got closer to her, holding her tight while she started to cry harder with her head on my shoulder. I was very confused and very scared, but I knew that I needed to wait for her to speak, that rushing things would not work, so I did my best to put myself together and waited for what appeared to be an eternity but was probably only a minute or two until she finally stopped crying and, getting back to her seat, said with her eyes down and in a girly voice:
“I… I want to know what you want.”
“What I want? What… What do you mean?”
“You… What we did yesterday… It was not like I dreamed. I always thought my first time would be special, with someone special, something I would remember dearly forever.”
The guilt I felt at that moment was so powerful, so hard, I almost cried myself. She continued:
“It was with someone special.”, she said, turning her head up and looking into my eyes before continuing: “At least for me. But… But I felt so bad after that, I cried so much when I got to my bed.”
“Why?”, I asked, already knowing the answer.
She was again looking at the floor when she replied:
“Because it was so… carnal, so sexual. It was not about love, but about… lust. And…”
I was feeling so, so bad that I needed some more time to think, and so I asked:
“And kartal escort bayan I know it was with someone special for me, but I really, really don’t know if I’m special to you or if I’m only a young girl you wanted to…”
She stopped talking, and this time I didn’t have the courage to ask her to continue. Looking back now, years and years after that, I think it was at that moment that I started to realize that I, too, was feeling much more than lust. Her fragility, her childish behavior had an effect on me too, an effect that I wasn’t able to control anymore.
“Julie, I… I don’t know what to say…”
She was crying again, her arms folded, when she replied:
“Because I am, I am only a girl you… You wanted to do things with…”
“No, no, no…! I… Oh, fuck it! Yes, at first it was. You looked always so pretty, so innocent, but at the same time so… sexy in your working clothes, that I couldn’t help but want you. But now… Fuck, now I don’t know anything anymore. I’m feeling like an idiot, a fucking teenager!”
I was angry with myself and hit the wheel with my fist, not in a violent way but as a way of letting some of the steam out. We were silent for some time, her crying subsiding little by little while hundreds of thoughts passed by my head at the same time. Eventually, it was her that spoke again:
“What… What are you feeling for me, Mark?”
I looked at her and found two pleading, beautiful eyes looking back at me. I couldn’t help but to want to protect her, to get her into my arms forever, and unable to control myself I got closer to her and kissed her, a lovingly, passionate kiss that she returned instantly.
I couldn’t say how long the kiss lasted, but when we finally parted our lips I was lost, completely and utterly lost. I couldn’t say I loved her yet, but I surely wasn’t thinking about fucking her as my sole goal anymore.
“Julie… I… Let me propose something for you. I don’t want to make you feel bad again, never in my life. I know that yesterday I pushed you, and I’m sorry, I really am. I was fucking selfish and didn’t have any regards to your feelings.”
I said that looking into her eyes, and I meant it. After a pause to think, I continued:
“I’m married, as you know. And I can’t ask you anything now, as I can’t give almost nothing back. But I really, really don’t want to lose you. I don’t know what to do…”
I lowered my head, genuinely lost, and she was silent for some time until she eventually said in a barely audible voice:
“I don’t want to lose you too…”
After another pause, she continued:
“We could… We could see each other. Like today… And see what happens.”
That was a very, very bad idea. How would that work? I was married and in my 40s, she was eighteen and my neighbor, and I had just promised her I would not make her feel bad again – or, in other words, I would not try anything sexual with hear again until she wanted it, what would be a very difficult task if I kept seeing her in secluded places like that. But what’s the fucking irresponsibility for?
“We can. But only if you want it.”
“I do. I… I love you…”
To hear her say that, in the way she said that, made me feel like a teenager again. I held her delicate hands, looking into her eyes, and replied:
“Julie… I don’t know what to say… I like you so much, you are so beautiful, so sweet, I want to be with you so much… But I can’t tell you that I love you, not now, while my brain hurts and my heart asks for help. I’m not saying I don’t, I’m just so fucking confused that…”
“It’s ok… If you had told me that you loved me, I would know it could not be true. You… You are married…”
She said that with sadness before continuing:
“All I want from you is that you don’t lie to me. Please, don’t do that. I’m… I’m so in love that I would be lost if you did…”
“I’ll not. But… But if we’re going to see each other, we need to be careful. If my wife finds out…”
“If my mom finds out…”
“Yes, well, if anyone finds out we will be in a very bad place.”
We stayed there for some time, kissing and talking, but had to leave soon after as it was late, and her mother and my wife were waiting. In the coming weeks, we tried to see each other as much as possible, having lunches or going back home together, exchanging texts all day long and even with her coming at my apartment twice while her mother and my wife were out. During all this time, as hard as it was for me, I never tried anything with her again besides kissing, sometimes passionately. I was starting to realize I was in fact in love with her, and it scared me a lot…
On the other hand, it’s obvious that my marriage wasn’t doing well. I’m not a good liar, and with my wife asking more and more frequently why I was so distant, it was harder and harder for me to avoid the truth. The only part of the relationship that was doing well was the sex, as I was always aroused by my encounters with Julie and used my wife, as bad as it sounds, to get some relief.
Julie, for its part, was more escort maltepe and more demanding each day. She was starting to realize that being the “other” meant having no control of our time together, and always depending on my wife being out or working to be with me. But the worst day was when I was getting home from a party with my wife and found Julie waiting for the lift. I didn’t know what to do and Julie reacted so bad that my wife commented, after we left the lift, that she looked “very sad”.
Things couldn’t be like that forever, and we knew it. She was being fantastically mature for her age, but I knew that away from my eyes she was sadder and sadder each day. I, for my part, was more and more jealous of her, and seeing her go out with her friends, from my window, on the weekends was a torture. I started to think about all the boys of her age she would meet, and how she would kiss them and fall in love with them and tell me to go fuck myself…
But she didn’t.
We were on the same spot on the beach as the other day, kissing and talking, when she said:
“Mark… I… I want to ask you something.”
“Yes, my little thing?”
“Do you… Do you love me now?”
Her question took me by surprise. She looked at me with those pleading eyes I was so accustomed to, waiting for my answer, and before replying I asked my heart.
“Yes! Yes, fuck, I love you. I love you so much, fuck the society, fuck my marriage, fuck everyone that will look at us on the streets, fuck, fuck!”, I exploded, the truth being revealed not only for her, but for me, at that exact moment. Yes, I loved her, and if I didn’t act on that love until now it was because I was a fucking coward, afraid of the world’s judgment.
She laughed and cried at the same time with my reaction, taking my hands into hers and saying:
“I… I felt it. I know you’re telling the truth. After all this time you never tried anything again, and you treat me so… So well, I feel so special…”
She kissed me, and I kissed her back like the world had ended. All I wanted was to stay with her, to get her home and take care of her, to…
“Now I want it.”, she said, her head down, her face red again as I haven’t seen in a long time.
“What? You want what?”
“I… I want to be yours… Now that I know that you love me. But… But I want a special place, and time, and not worrying if someone will see us.”
I was speechless for a long time, looking at that small, young, sweet girl. After I finally recovered, I asked her, hoping for a yes:
“Are you sure?”
“Yes… Yes, I am. I told you that I wanted my first time to be in a special place, with a special person that I loved and that loved me, a memory I would hold forever. Apart from the special place, that I’m sure you will find, I already have everything else…”
She looked at me as soon as she finished to say that, and her eyes were filled with tears, This time, however, they weren’t tears of sadness, but of happiness. I could feel my eyes burning too, and holding together the best I could I said:
“A month from now we have a holiday on a Friday… Can you find a way to leave with me for four days, leaving on Thursday’s night and returning on Sundays night?”
“Yes… I can ask a friend of mine to cover for me. I did that for her lots of time…”
“Ok, then. It’s a date!”, I said, smiling.
“Where… Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise. But you will like it…”
That month took years to pass, each minute seeming like hours. We did see each other as always, but with the perspective of being free for three days, alone and away from the prying eyes of everyone else, we were naturally anxious.
When the day finally came, I was feeling like a teenager on his first trip alone with a girlfriend. To avoid any suspicions, she left for her friend’s house with her small suitcase and I got her there. I could see her friend’s head on the window, trying to see inside the car without success, when Julie entered and gave me a kiss. She was stunning, dressed smartly and with well-applied make-up, and If I had any doubts about what I was doing they were out of the window at that moment. I kissed her lovingly and said:
I regret not having filmed her when we got the airport and she found out we were going to Paris. She was immediately back to the girl I knew, laughing and jumping on my neck while kissing my entire face like a child. What I’m glad I didn’t film was the looks I got from some older ladies around, probably thinking I was some sort of “sugar daddy”. Well, fuck them!
We arrived in Paris at the end of Friday’s morning and after checking-in on the five-stars I booked explored the city a little. Anyone that looked at us would think I was her father, not only because of our ages but because of the way she was behaving like a curious girl all the time, asking me things about the city. We kissed a lot, but apart from that I was feeling like she was my responsibility, a girl that I cared for and that I gifted with this trip. She, on the other hand, was comfortable pendik escort on this role, clearly liking to be cared for.
The night came fast, and after an excellent meal we got back to the hotel. I took a bath first and came out of the bathroom in a robe, finding her still fully dressed and clearly nervous.
“Julie… I want you to know that nothing needs to happen if you don’t want it to…”
She looked at me, her eyes overflowing with love, and said:
“It’s all I want. I know… I know I look nervous, because I am… You’re so experienced, and I never… I don’t want to disappoint you…”
She was looking to the floor, clearly upset. I opened a bottle of champagne I had ordered, poured two glasses, and before giving hers I said:
“You can’t disappoint me. I don’t want expertise, I want you. I love you, I look at you and I’m already losing it. And I can… I can teach you if you want…”
I trembled when I said that, the sound of the words making me realize the lucky man I was. She looked a bit less tense, took the glass from my hand and downed it in a single movement, giving me a peck on the lips and going to the bathroom.
At least thirty minutes had passed when the bathroom door finally opened. I was lying on the bed in my robe with the lights out, looking at the Eiffel Tower in the distance, and when I turned all I could see was her silhouette against the bright light of the bathroom.
“Honey… Please turn on the lights, I want to see you…”
She hesitated, but eventually walked to the light switch and turned the light on, staying still after that her eyes on the floor and her hands together, clearly embarrassed.
“What… What do you think?”
Oh, fuck, how could I answer that question? What could I think of a petite, thin, almost titless eighteen-year-old in white garters, panties and bra standing inside my room? I almost came immediately and replied:
“You… Oh, my god… You are so, so, so beautiful I think I died and I’m in heaven…”
She smiled, the most beautiful smile in the world, and said:
“It was difficult to find it… They didn’t have my size…”
Not being able to wait anymore, I got up from the bed and walked to her, taking her easily into my arms. She looked into my eyes and whispered, in the most melodious voice:
“I love you so much…”
“I love you too, my little thing…”
I kissed her and started to walk towards the bed, putting her on the mattress delicately. Taking off my robe, I started to go down with my mouth, passing by her neck and getting to her tits, pushing her bra up gently before starting to lick and suck on her sweet nipples. She was already moaning, her hands caressing my hair, and soon I descended a little more, passing by her stomach only to find that her panties were open in the front. That made me crazier, and after smelling her sweet juices for the second time in my life I started to work on her, trying to give her all the pleasure I could. She moaned and moved around, completely mine, and in less than a minute started cumming in my mouth, her fluids flowing and getting my cheeks all wet while she screamed so loud that I’m sure the other guest heard.
For a second my instincts got the best of me and I almost mounted her immediately, but I remembered she was not only small, but a virgin, and stopped myself. But I needed relief, and as she was languidly lying in the bed I lay down on her side and, kissing her cheeks and face, said:
“I don’t want to hurt you… I need some… relief before… before we can be really together. The way I am now, I’ll not be able to go slow and it will probably hurt.”
She looked at me with gratitude in her eyes and without saying a word got up from the bed, pushing my hand gently to make me sit on the edge of the mattress. Then, she hesitantly knelt down in front of me and, without looking into my eyes, said:
“I… I don’t know exactly how to do it… I saw… Oh, god, you will think I’m a child… I saw some instructional videos – it was not pornography – but…”
“You’ll be wonderful, my love. I can… I can help you, but I’m sure I’ll not last long now…”
She seemed satisfied with my answer and looked at my cock with curiosity, extending her arm and touching it carefully as it could break. She then started to masturbate me, but as I could not wait anymore, I put my hand behind her head and pushed her gently, making her open her mouth and engulf the head of my cock.
“Ohhh… Ohhh, my God, yes… Like this…”
She really had studied how to do it, as although she was obviously not an expert as my wife she was doing a good job. Anyway, I was so aroused at that point that it took me maybe one minute to feel the cum building inside me, and trying to not scare her I said:
“My love, I’ll… I’ll cum…”
To my surprise, she just kept sucking, even increasing her pace, and as I started to cum and looked at her I could see how hard she was fighting not to take my cock out of her mouth, continuing to masturbate and suck during my entire orgasm. When I finally stopped cumming, I collapsed on the bed and heard she running to the bathroom and turning on the tap, spiting and washing her mouth the best she could before returning and laying by my side. Putting her small head over my chest, her feet barely touching my ankles, she nested herself and said, uncertainty on her voice:
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