1. A Polaroid of Kristina, part 1


    Date: 11/3/2014, Categories: Seduction, Author: Oncearunner1974, Rating: 2, Source: LushStories

    once again. In high school I was not popular with girls. There were any number of reasons, but extreme shyness and being a bit overweight were certainly among the top of the list. So when graduation came, and the idea of college became increasingly real, I embarked on a physical fitness regimen. I resolved to run, swim, and lift weights every day, so that when I arrived at college I’d be as attractive as I could make myself. I saw it as an opportunity to reinvent myself and start fresh with people who did not know me. So I availed myself of the gym, also on the roof level. I ran every day on the treadmill. I swam lap after lap in the pool, and I devised a weight-room routine that I was able to stick to. I considered it my daily triathlon, and even though I never thought I had achieved my goal of looking truly good (no matter what Kristina told me), even I, low self-esteem and all, could not deny that the routine was having some positive results. My shoulders broadened and my arms and chest gained some muscle definition. I lost just about all of the the pudge around my stomach, and there was even the hint of abs. In hindsight, I’m sure I looked very good, but at the time I didn’t really think so. What did happen during my fitness craze was that I began to notice Kristina. She was an excellent swimmer, and she had always done a ridiculous amount of laps, from the time I had known her. When I started getting in better shape, I started racing her when we happened to be in the ...
    pool at the same time. I am sure she must have known, but she didn’t vary her pace, and I was eventually able to beat her, in these races that at the time I didn’t think she realized we were having. Kristine was tall and slim. Very slim. She and I were the same height, 5’11”, and her legs were considerably longer than mine. I’d say she had a dancer’s build, but with none of that stringiness that dancers often have. Everything about her was sleek. She was streamlined, slim but rounded. Fairly narrow hips, but an even narrower waist, and small breasts. Even as self-assured as she was, with so much life experience, she once expressed concern that I wouldn’t like her breasts because they were so small. She had what I would have to describe as an elegant, lithe, sleek figure. Why hadn’t I noticed it earlier than the summer I turned eighteen? Probably because I was a dumb boy who was more likely to notice big boobs in bikinis than the imperially slim older European lady in the modest, racing-style, one-piece swimsuit. She had honey-blond hair which she usually wore up, the easier to tuck it into a swim cap, and startlingly green eyes. I have seen many people with piercing blue eyes, but never anyone since with her distinctive shade of deep emerald green. These were always smiling, perpetually friendly. In fact, in my memory she is always smiling, even though I saw many different expressions on her face by the end of the summer. So even as I started to notice her in the pool, and the ...
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