A Polaroid of Kristina, part 1 - Sex Stories

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A Polaroid of Kristina, part 1

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

confused. “Is it possible, Michael, that you have perhaps developed an infatuation for me?” I wanted the ground to swallow me up. My face burned crimson, and I was paralyzed with embarrassment. I wasn’t kidding when I said I was painfully shy, and I was literally powerless to speak. My reaction answered the question. She smiled at me warmly and made me feel better, as she so often did. “Because you see, it is very flattering, at my age, to have attracted the attentions and admiration of such a handsome and well-built young man.” And it seemed to me that she emphasized the word “man,” and it reminded me of her words in the weight room a few weeks earlier. I was staring at the floor, unable to look up, but amazed at what she was saying. “And as can sometimes happen with a silly woman like me,” she went on, “thinking that a young man finds me attractive has made me feel beautiful in a way I have not really felt in several years, and it has made me also notice him all the more. Even more than I already had. And I have noticed how broad his shoulders are, and how trim his waist, and how powerful his legs. And I have also seen that he is polite with the old men who play cards, and patient with the horrible women and their precious hair, and he is kind to his brothers, and loving with his parents. And perhaps I have also developed a bit of an infatuation myself.” Despite my embarrassment, her words made me look up in shock. Was this possible? This had to be a dream, but no, it was ... happening. Kristina was looking at me with an odd expression. Her face was still smiling, but there was a bit of sadness there that I would not understand until much later. And I flatter myself that she was a little nervous herself, despite her European aplomb. She went on, even as I continued to have a hard time meeting her gaze. “But of course I felt guilt at this. After all, I said to myself, ‘Kristina, you are well more than twice this young man’s age. Such things are not right. You are closer to the age of his mother than to his’.” (My mother was in her mid-fifties at this point, having had me and my brothers quite late, and she looked nothing at all like Kristina, and so the idea of any connection between them seemed absurd to me). “But then I realized that the young man is eighteen now, and these are different times. And--” Here she paused again, but I didn’t realize the importance of what she would say next. “--life is short, and it is best to enjoy it. And so, Michael, I have invited you to my apartment to tell you all of this, and to ask you to let me kiss you.” At this I looked up. She was still looking at me, and her expression had returned to normal. Her eyes twinkled, and she looked younger than she had any right to. She took a step towards me, and I could smell her perfume, light and intoxicating. I was entranced by her eyes: green, hypnotizing. An eternity passed, and nothing happened. I felt a duty to kiss her, rather than to have her kiss me, to be the “man” ...