DISCLAIMER: This is the first chapter of a series, about a hot, but dark story. I’m planning to do something very particular, something that will turn darker and more “disturbing”. So, if you’re just looking for a quick story to masturbate, this is not the right place for you.
LOLITA, QU'EST-CE QUE TU FAIS?
I am not proud of what I did and how I let things taking over.
Please, wait to read all my story, before judging: my name is Corey and yeah, I look much older, but I’m just 30.
My life has always been around the most famous gym of my city: it’s where I work as a fitness instructor and where I train as a wrestler.
Gym is also where I met Manny, my boyfriend, 7 years ago. I remember I had an instant crush on him, the new crossfit instructor, but I also thought he was straight. Cute thing is, he had the same thoughts on me!
Our relationship got real the night I won my first heavyweight title: since I was a villainous character (because of my monster size), I was supposed to keep dismantling my opponent.
As the referee counted 1-2-3 for the victory, I noticed Manny in the crowd. I didn’t know he was there, I was surprised and happy!
The title, that title, was in my hands: I was so happy, tears were coming out of my eyes. Following my heart, I got off the ring and celebrated giving a kiss, I mean a real kiss, to my boyfriend.
Right in front of my colleagues and the attendance.
It took 10 seconds to realize that I didn’t respect the original booking and most importantly, I came out to everyone there!
With much surprise, people started clapping and cheering for us. And I became a fan favourite, who still smashes skulls, tears bodies apart and breaks guys in a half.
Later that night, Manny and I made the sweetest and most passionated love ever. And we’ve always been together, since then.
Everything started in a rainy afternoon of september: I was just getting out of home, ready to go to work.
I’ve noticed a man, staring at the house next to mine. He approached me: “Excuse me, do you know the owner of this house? I’ve seen it was on rent, yesterday with my wife, but there was no number so we couldn’t contact the owner”
“Well, I pay the rent for my house at the same person. I can give you his phone number, if you want”
“That would be awesome! Thank you very much. I’m Russ.”
“Corey, nice to meet you.” I answered with a smile as I gave him my owner’s business card: “So, we’re gonna be neighbours, hopefully”
“It’s not for me, actually. My daughter, Lucrèce… for her 21st birthday, she asked to leave her life in Marseille, France, where she was born, to come to study in her parents’ hometown, all by herself.“
“Oh, that’s a good choice. We have a lot of valuable colleges here in Columbus”
“Yeah, well…”, the man sobbed; he had a sad and pretty tired smile on his face: “Lucrèce still goes to school. She keeps losing years. She… She gets bored easily.”
In a second, I could see on that face his sense of failure, his frustration: it’s actually close to impossible, to disappoint your parents, but when you “succeed” to do that, it means they completely lost any hope on you.
My mind immediately ran to my family: I never knew my mother and my father died in his work as a firefighter when I was a child.
Among my few memories of him, he was a bodybuilder: his second wife, my stepmother, used to show me his pictures around the time they met.
So, I decided I would have followed his steps: and whenever I flex in the mirror , I try to seek those same facial expressions of him, those same body details, the same progress.
I wish I had the chance to ask my dad if he was proud of the man I become.
Pretty safe to say I wasn’t the biggest fan of a girl who was wasting that chance I would die to take.
Anyway, Russ got the house and within 3 weeks, Lucrèce has arrived.
As I said, I would lie if I told you I was happy to meet someone like this girl: yet, everyone needs a chance in their life.
Russ texted me cause he wanted to introduce his daughter to me, but I was at work.
I came back home late at night: lights were on, in the house next to mine.
The new girl was still awake.
I literally dived on my couch, exhausted. I’ve checked my feeds on Twitter: among the many interactions, there was a direct message from a guy, a fan of mine. A very nice person, who saw me at some events in Buffalo, but was too shy to come and say hi.
Despite I was tired as fuck, my stinking feet urged me to take a shower.
Water was falling down, the bathroom was steamy, so I opened the window and I noticed I had a full view on Lucrèce’s bedroom… And on Lucrèce herself, as she was in the room.
Long brunette hair, paired with zaffire eyes on a quite tall and thin girl, white t-shirt and white pajama pants.
Trying to not looking a like a perv, I’ve switched my attention to the temperature of the shower.
She was talking to a close friend of hers, I could understand most of what she said, despite my acknowledge of French wasn’t properly French, but a francophone idiome like Canadian.
My shower was still waiting for me, so I took off my clothes and got inside.
I so needed a good shower, but I needed more a good sleep, so it didn’t last that long; I grabbed my towel and quickly dried myself, then went to close the window: I couldn’t believe what I saw.
Lucrèce was on her bed, still talking at the phone, but her pants were off and there were no panties: she was masturbating!
My first thought was to immediately close the window and hide behind the glass.
I felt so embarassed, so guilty: I was breaking in the private moment of a young girl.
But, I don’t know if it was because of her being european, or her being…
The elegant way her hand was touching her most sensible part, those sofisticated fingers moving to satisfy herself.
Her closed eyes, her mouth breathing harder, her pleasure expanding as whispers in the silent air.
Feminine masturbation is so delicate, compared to the vulgar way we men beat our meat, stroking till the cumshot.
And speaking of beating meat, I surprised myself when my hand swiped under the towel and grabbed my hard cock, to jerk it off.
Close to edge, I suddenly felt like the power in my brain was restored and I realized it was just wrong, so I immediately stopped.
But I kept looking at my penis, so erected, so fierce, so willing to eiaculate: most of times, wrong is what makes you feel so right…
I’m sorry, but I’m not ready to tell you everyhting, not now.
2087
prguitarman
turnnoffyourmind
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dailybridgerton
