Holding her by the waist, looking closely and trying to find a freckle. Her skin, so clear and clean, smooth and slippery like a fish. Though I just met her couple of days back, she feels magnetic. I know its inappropriate, I know it will be wrong. But from what all she told and how she told, this doesn't seem wrong.
Accompanying me quietly and submissively, we enter the room. I feel confident, though I seem to be unaware of her being, her perspective, her world, but this growing urge inside me asks me to bother not.
We had talked earlier, for a little while. When I saw her for the first time, I wanted to hold her. Not the innocent romantic way, but with a motive to devour.Grab her and consume. She walked fast in front of my car's headlights and I felt sickly aroused like Brando in Last Tango in Paris. Oh god! Worse thoughts, now I am recalling that scene, girl lying on her stomach, and Brando grabs some butter to do anal. This is profane, I should not be thinking that, but while I see her walking away, such scenes oscillate in front of me.
Tightening my grip around her, I reach for the lips. Her repulsion or reluctance once occurs in my mind, but I am disappointed. Instead she reciprocates, moving her lips fast and strong, a passionate hungry kiss. My hands move away from her waist and over to her chest, kissing and exchanging bites, I grasp her dense, fluffy breasts.
Taking my mind away from her back, I look back at the steering wheel. Its hard to focus, but I remind myself of her age. She is young, very young, almost half my age. But how ripened. The stride and sway of her hips had me salivating, so I call her. She is still in my vision, I see her stopping and picking the call. Answers, starts walking again. Trembling voice, I invite her for dinner, surprisingly, an acceptance. Denial was so prominent in my mind, that I hadn't imagined my reaction after acceptance. The heat in me gets stronger and deeper.
Her bosom fits perfectly in my palm, squeezing and pinching, she allowed my playfulness. Unbuttoning her shirt, I pull my mouth away from her face and push it right between the breasts. I felt ashamed, i felt disgraced, I felt extremely aroused. The blood in my veins was pumping harder than ever, I could feel my member getting harder and preparing for a feast. "You disgust me.", I say to myself. But I continue the devouring and leave her wet all over. Her hair fall open, on her shoulders and face. She wasn't just an epitome of my lust or erotica, she was very beautiful. Somehow it made me feel guiltier. Seeing my face, she took in charge. Grabbed my hand and pulled me up, turned around and sat across my abdomen. Moving softly, higher and lower, upwards and downwards. Then slowly moving down, down to relieve my pumping blood.
I pick her up on time right outside her home. She wasn't dressed up, the usual. Walks inside, crosses her legs, and I let myself observe her careless sexuality. As we reached my place, none of us talked, maybe because we knew what the night was bringing. After plating up and finishing the necessary formalities, I reach for her hand. I wonder why doesn't she pull it away. Further and forward, I keep making moves, she keeps allowing. As soon as I get up to take her inside, she walks towards me and whispers in my ear, "If this happens, tonight will be the last you see and hear of me. Your choice." It was like wind to me, slightly tickling my ears, no heed given to what was heard, instead her closeness turned me on and intoxicated slightest bit of sanity.
As she came up, it was hard to believe her age. The pleasure was beyond anything I had ever felt. Now that she had proved herself, I get on. Trying to ignore flashes of Lolita and Last Tango in Paris going like a slideshow in my head. One of them reminded me. I hold her arms up and tear open her half-unbuttoned shirt. I feel amused but in rush again, The scene proceeds like the movie. I pin her down and fill her up with my lust. Moaning and screaming, there came a time when she asked me to stop, but I had forgotten myself and went on without resistance. I tried all I could on her, and when it was done, her mutilated beauty overwhelmed me. I stared at her for an hour and she pretended to sleep. Regaining conscious, my monstrosity sat timid in front of her. Quiet and calm, at dinner she heard all my stories. Of childhood, of older times, not once did I ask her about hers. I move forward for a kiss, her finger are placed softly on my cheeks and kisses back like a lover, a partner.
Morning comes, and I bid her goodbye. On the way back we talk and laugh like a couple,. A couple in love. She gets off at few places to wind up some errands and then I drop her home. She left a smile on my face and a guiltless heart. All throughout I was captivated, and the excitement of seeing her again left me restless. I felt like a renewed man. Picking up my phone I giver her a call, it rings and rings and falls dead. Once more. Once more. Once more. I keep trying and the call is not received. Strange worry fills me, I rush to her home, where I dropped her. But it was nothing but a long road branching out to many more. Night falls and my gut hurts. I crave her. A hunger, an insatiable thirst takes over me. And I recall. The whisper.
"What drives me insane is the twofold nature of this nymphet, of every nymphet perhaps, this mixture in my Lolita of tender, dreamy childishness and a kind of eerie vulgarity. I know it is madness to keep this journal, but it gives me a strange thrill to do so."
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