1. A Polaroid of Kristina, part 1


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

    changed, and took the elevator down to 26D, my heart hammering pleasantly in my chest as I rang the bell. “I’m coming!” I heard her call. A moment later, the city person’s inevitable “Who is it?” “It’s Mike,” I answered. The door opened, and Kristina let me in. At first I almost didn’t recognize her, and it dawned on me that I had not once in all these years ever seen her other than in her one-piece swimsuit. I don’t think I’d even encountered her in the lobby or on in the street, which wasn’t that unusual for a building the size of ours. She looked stunning. She was wearing a long skirt, sandals, and a white blouse, which I would in later years find out was called a peasant blouse. To this day I find that combination of clothes particularly alluring, all because of what happened that afternoon. Before I could think about what was coming out of my mouth, I said, “You look really different in clothes! I mean, not in your swimsuit. I mean--” Her smiling eyes danced, and she interrupted me with an amused arch of her eyebrow. “I will take that as a compliment, Michael.” My face reddened, and I didn’t know what to say. At this point I still thought that she had no idea of my infatuation and even lust for her, and the idea that I had complimented her on her appearance (though I wasn’t sure I had) was intensely embarrassing, because it might give away my feelings. “So where’s your TV?” I segued as smoothly as I could, looking around her one-bedroom apartment. I was surprised not ...
    to see a TV in the living room, because at our apartment and that of most of my friends, the TV was an important fixture in the living room. Her apartment was different. The furniture for one, was lighter, less heavy than what I was used to, mostly of Scandinavian design. There were books everywhere on the backless shelves, and a serious stereo system, along with hundreds of LPs and dozens of CDs, dominated one end of her living room. The apartment, on such a higher floor than ours, was flooded with light. “Back this way, in the bedroom. I don’t like having a television in the living room.” The bedroom! My breath caught for a moment. I would actually be in Kristina’s bedroom! I didn’t fool myself that anything would happen there, but there was something about the prospect of being in the room itself that was enthralling for me. But then she dashed my hopes briefly, before raising them again. “But there is not a need to fix the VCR in there,” she continued, “because there is nothing wrong with it.” The disappointment I wouldn’t be seeing her bedroom was the only thing that registered for a split second, before my mind registered confusion. “Then why did you ask me to come and--” She interrupted me with, “Because,” and at that moment she paused, as if she couldn’t quite find the words she wanted, and she looked for a moment embarrassed herself. “Because,” she started over, “I wanted to ask you something in a more private place than the pool.” “Sure, anything,” I answered, still ...
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