Love Found, Love Lost. A Wonderful Winter Affair

by allyn

Copyright© 2006 by allyn

Erotica Sex Story: I met a wonderful girl from Belarus at a bus stop near my condo. We became friends, then lovers. Then I lost her and my heart was broken.

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft   Teenagers   Consensual   Romantic   Tear Jerker   First   Oral Sex   .

I usually take the bus to work because it's only a ten-minute ride and is easier than trying to park downtown. Parking downtown really sucks. We call the city meter-readers the "Parking Nazis" for a good reason. It was while waiting for the bus. It was a cold Wwinter morning a few days before Christmasthat I first really noticed Mariya. She was carrying a black instrument case. I knew her, vaguely, like I knew most people at the busstop, a stranger, but a strangeLove Found, Love Lostr that I saw more often than I saw my own relatives. Dressed in a billowing yellow vinyl rain coat, she looked like the picture on a box of Morton salt.

I saw her again the following week. I was in a pretty good mood, and had even put on my favorite gray suit and a new tie. She was sitting on the bench, holding the instrument case in her lap. I smiled at her as I approached." I," I said as her eyes glanced up. I barely heard her say "Good morning" as she quickly looked down again. We were the only people at the stop, and there was an awkward silence.

I continued to look at her from where I stood beside the bench, and remembered how I had caught her instrument when she almost dropped it the previous week. "She's not exactly an beautiful girl, girl" I thought, but she was very attractive. Her profile showed that her skin was clear, not a hint of teen age acne, she appeared to be wearing no make-up at all. Her pale hands, stretched over thin, bird-like bones and she looked as if she didn't get out in the sun much. I saw that her thick mane of hair was pulled back into a fabric and elastic band, but some big strands had escaped the elastic and hung randomly beside her face. She was either in Junior High or High School; I'm really bad at guessing ages. She was about ten inches shorter than me.

I remembered how hard it was for me when I was a kid like that, with no real friends except for books and my dog. I guess I was lucky, finally developing into a thirty year-old guy with a respectable income and decent appearance. I didn't seem to have trouble getting girlfriends now, but had really struggled when I was as young as this girl on the bench. I heard the approaching diesel of the bus, and Mariya stood up. She boarded first as I fumbled through my overcoat, trying to find my bus pass. I finally climbed aboard, flashed my pass to the driver, and gave Mariya a friendly smile as I took my seat. With some embarrassment she returned a brief smile through pursed lips, then looked away.

After some more questioning, she told me that she lived with her mom and spent a lot of time practicing her instrument. I told her that I lived alone, and worked for a large computer company as a communications consultant. Her sentences had a strange grammatical construction, because she was not completely fluent, but I could understand what she meant despite her heavy accent. I found her conversation to be mildly entertaining. She seemed to be a pleasant person, without a hint of the scheming or posturing that you found in most Americans. It seemed as if Americans learn to play head games at about the same time they learned to walk.

Mariya did not have a hint of game-playing about her. The next day I was running late, but on the following day Mariya was at the stop when I showed up. She smiled a little, we talked about her school, and I sat in the seat behind her. I asked her about her music and her family. She responded to my questions in a low voice, and I could see that she was still embarrassed. Over the next month and a half, I saw Mariya at the stop about twice a week. I noticed that she always left for school at a certain time, while I just walked out the door of my office whenever I was ready. Mariya and I started to develop a hesitant friendship. If there were a completely empty seat, I occasionally sat beside her, although sometimes she still seemed embarrassed by the attention.

One Wednesday I gave her a muffin from the two that I had bought that morning. She seemed very appreciative. I told her that I would have to drive to work for the rest of the week, since I would be working at another office for a short time, and I would not be taking the bus. "You go to the Classic Arts School, right?" I asked. She nodded her head." That's only a few blocks from Boston street. I'll be taking Boston straight to the other office. Would you like a ride?" This time, she did not nod her head. I continued anyway." Besides, this weather has been really crummy. I'd hate for you to wait in this stuff."

She blushed, looked down, and said "I don't know." We found an empty seat on the bus and sat together. The weather really had been unpleasant, and it was still dark outside due to the low clouds. "I'll pick you up tomorrow at the same time. You'll get to school a few minutes earlier, though" I said." Perhaps. I am not sure" she said blankly. She looked outside. There was a long silence before she said anything." But I do not like this weather at all." She said in her weird English.

I pulled away from the curb. I told her that we're having some trouble with a system which we recently installed, and I have to troubleshoot it. It'll probably take a week or less, depending, so I will be using my car to get to work, until I've handled the problem. I'd prefer to be downtown, though." She wrinkled her forehead. "My mother does not go to downtown. She says it is too much dangerous." That's weird," I thought. Downtown is actually a pretty safe place, compared to most other cities. Mariya didn't seem familiar with any areas of the city other than our particular neighborhood and a building on the East side where her mom worked. She said that she and her mom had lived in the same apartment building since they moved here. I mentioned that next week will be Presidents' Day, and the schools will be closed. I asked her what she was going to be doing.

"I will probably watch television and practice music" she said in a resigned voice. "my mother will work." "Well", I said, "If you'd like to have lunch, I'm off of work." I had lots of holidays off in my particular division. "Perhaps we could have a sandwich for lunch or something?" I asked. She seemed startled; she looked around the car, as if embarrassed. "Yes" she said in an unsure voice, and finally met my gaze. I gave her my business card and wrote my home number on the back. "Call me around eleven on Monday," I said as she dragged her instrument from the car. "OK", she whispered, blushing as she turned to walk towards the school yard. On Monday she called at exactly eleven o'clock as planned. I picked her up five minutes later at the bus stop. She said that she didn't want to be picked up near her apartment, as her neighbors were a bunch of old ladies who (presumably) gossiped.

We went to Mike L. d'Angelo's, "The Great Italian Place With The Stupid Name" on the North end of town. She seemed unsure what to order, and so we both had vegetable calzones and a Coke. She liked the calzones and the parmesan cheese topping, and she smiled happily throughout most of the meal. As I watched her eat, I noticed how beautiful her teeth were. Each one was opaque, like a flat pearl, and her lips framed them perfectly. "Would you like some gelato?" I asked after we had finished." I do not know what this is?" she said, her inflection turning the statement into a question.

"It's like ice cream. The flavors are up there." I pointed to a chalkboard that showed the available flavors. She chose mint, and I had chocolate. We ate the gelato at the counter, sitting next to each other on stools. The taste of the ice cream was a perfect finish to the lunch. Watching her tongue lick the small plastic spoon, her face just inches from mine, was heartbreakingly cute. I asked if she would like to see my place. It's a condominium, by the way, with a really great view. She shrugged, as if she weren't sure of the correct response. "My mother would want that I practice my instrument while she is working." she said. "She would not let me to leave the house, so I must be home before four or she will know I am not practicing."

It was only two o'clock, so we drove back to my place while she aimlessly fidgeted with the clasp on her purse. I was having some difficulty navigating through the ice that was forming on the streets, so I could not pay as much attention to her as I would have liked. Once in my home, we looked out of the glass door to the balcony and the street below. The condensation circles caused by our breath on the cold glass slowly expanded. Standing close, I could smell the mint from her gelato. I began to doodle in the condensation with my finger. With an amused smile, she moved away from the glass and walked along the wall of my book case, bending to the side to read the title on each volume.

I like to keep the heat up in the Winter, so she took off her knit sweater as she looked at the books, then neatly folded it over a chair. It was then that I noticed how thin she really was. She wasn't anorexic, or so skinny as to have the 'waif' look, but she certainly didn't have any excess muscle or fat. Black flat shoes highlighted her thin ankles, which came up to skinny but smooth calves, visible through the gray hose that she wore. Her dark knit dress hid the outline of the rest of her legs. As she bent to the side to look at a book, I could see the panty line on her thigh. She sat down on the sofa next to me, her elbow touching mine.

She seemed startled, then looked at me with a smile as she pulled her elbow away. A few minutes later her elbow was back, and stayed resting against me for the next half hour. I could feel my heart pounding, and knew that she felt something, too. It was getting close to three-thirty, and Mariya seemed anxious go home. I helped her with her sweater, noticing the smooth line of her neck and the clean, unpolished nails on her hands that came up to straighten the collar.

"I will walk home" she said nervously. "The neighbors, they will maybe see your car." I offered to give her a ride, but she was determined. We only lived a couple of blocks apart, anyway." Thank you very much for taking me to lunch today" she said at the door. I clasped her hand and told her that she was welcome. I watched her walk away, and realized that I was starting to become attracted to a girl that was a baby when I graduated from high school.

I didn't even know how old she actually was. All through that evening, I kept replaying the events of the day in my mind. I recounted her facial expressions, the phrases she used, and most of all I remembered her standing by the bookcase. The weird thing, I thought, was that she is not what most guys would consider to be attractive. Even her personality was subdued. We don't have very much in common, I thought, other than the fact that we just seem to enjoy being together. As I thought about her, I felt the same sense of arousal and subsequent embarrassment that she had inspired in me all of that day. I laughed to myself. It would probably not be a good career move to go to company parties with someone that looked too young to drive, right?

I couldn't help it, though. I was falling for her. She was at the bus stop on Tuesday, and so was I. I was going back to my office downtown. We both grinned when we saw the other. She spoke first. "Thank you again for taking me to eat. I enjoyed it very much." Me too," I said. "I hope that we can do it again sometime." She smiled. "My mother is working every Saturday." Then Saturday would be a good day to spend some time together" I replied, already looking forward to the weekend. We began to show up at the bus stop at the same time everyday.

For Saturday, we had made plans to go to a lunch, then a matinee. She really wanted to see a new comedy romance movie that had just launched a huge advertising campaign. The film wasn't very good, but there were some steamy scenes. I'm not sure that Mariya had ever seen anything like that before. As we were leaving the theater, some girls that looked a little bit older than Mariya stared at us and whispered as we walked by. I think that they were trying to figure out the nature of our relationship, since we really didn't look like brother and sister. After we were in the car, waiting to leave the parking garage, Mariya looked back at the girls, then at me.

She didn't say much on the way back. Once back at my place, we sat in the living room on the sofa. Mariya took off her cheap quilted nylon snow boots, and revealed her long, thin feet covered by navy blue socks. She stared at them, stretched out in front of her." Why with me?" she said, still looking at her feet. With a confused look, I asked her what she was talking about. "I see the way that the many other girls look at you. Why do you wish to be with me?" she said again. "Well," I said, and paused to collect my thoughts, "I really enjoy being with you. I look forward to our time together."

She blushed, still not meeting my eyes. "No, that is not," she said. "That is not. Those other girls are much prettier than me, and are wearing very prettier clothes. They look at you. You should go to the movies with them." She paused, for what seemed a long time. "I see how those other girls look at you," she sadly repeated. I touched her cheek, and her face looked up to meet mine. I bent slowly over, and as her mouth opened slightly, she began to tremble. I gave her a long, light kiss on her thin lips. Her eyes closed. I gave her another, with slightly more pressure, holding her cheek against my palm. I stared at her face, and her eyes opened. She was still trembling.

We sat silently on the sofa for ten minutes. She leaned against my chest while I caressed her head. I played with a single small braid she had made on the right side of her hair, something that seems popular with the girls now. A few minutes later I turned her head and kissed her again. We began to kiss strongly, and my tongue touched hers, gently probing her mouth. She began to hesitatingly explore my mouth with her tongue, and soon we were kissing slowly and deeply. I moved my mouth to her chin, her neck, then her ear. Encircling her ear with my open mouth caused her to lean back against the sofa, stretching her face away from mine, and she began to breathe heavily.

I knew that I was becoming more aroused than I should. I moved my lips back to hers, softly biting her chin and lower lip on my way. We softly kissed again, then I slowly pulled back. "Are you all right?" I asked. "Yes." Perhaps we should get you home," I said as I looked at my watch. She nodded her head. I was not sure how much she knew about male anatomy, but I shifted uncomfortably as I tried to hide the bulge in the front of my pants. I was actually aroused after kissing her, and was desperately trying to remain in control of my physical desires. She got up. Taking her hairbrush from her purse, she went to the bathroom.

"You mentioned that other girls wear prettier clothes than you" while still trying to arrange my pants. "Would you like to go shopping some time?" I didn't hear a response. Getting up, I looked around the corner into the open bathroom where she stood in front of the mirror. I could see the reflection of her face and noticed again the attractiveness of her waist and hips. "I do not buy many clothes," she said, looking at me in the mirror. "My mother does not have a lot of money to spend clothes." I sighed in exasperation. "No, that's not what I mean. I want to take you shopping, and I'll pay for everything. I'd really like to." She looked at me as if I were some sort of hallucination. I didn't wait for an answer.

"Next weekend, if it's OK with you, we'll have lunch and go shopping. I insist. OK?" She nodded and soon followed me back into the living room. As she stood placing the brush back into her purse, I kissed the back of her neck from behind. She froze, leaning slightly back against me. I stayed there, kissing her neck and ear, and heard her breathe deeply. I moved my hands to her stomach, pulling her body close to mine. I allowed myself the brief pleasure of pulling her lightly back against the erection still trying to burst my zipper. After drinking in the barely perceptible talcum-powder scent of her neck, I slowly unclasped my hands and she began to buckle her purse with confused look. After one last long kiss, I opened the door and watched her walk towards the elevator.

That night I went out and drank beer with some guys from work. I didn't tell them about Mariya--what could I say?--but it was good to get out and socialize. Most of the women that I saw, though, seemed like counterfeits compared to the simple honesty of Mariya. I thought about her the whole time. At the bus stop the next morning we stood very close, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder. A brief glance from a lady also waiting at the stop was enough for Mariya to move away in embarrassment. We talked for awhile, mainly about her music instructor and the pieces she had to practice for an upcoming competition. On Thursday I asked her, "Are we still on for Saturday?" and I took her embarrassed shrug, as she bit her lower lip, for a "yes." She called me Friday after work. I told her that I would pick her up the following day as soon as she was ready. On Saturday we had lunch at a Japanese fast-food place, then drove to the mall.

After walking out of the second department store without any purchases, I finally had to tell Mariya to not look at the price tags. She did not want to buy anything as it was all "very much expensive." We went to the last department store in the mall. I bluntly told her to buy several things or I would not be happy. Her taste in clothing turned out to be very traditional. She finally chose a pair of dark green pleated twill pants with a full cut, a natural cotton blouse with embroidery around the collar and cuffs, and a pair of burnished brown woven leather shoes.

I had to go away when she tried items in the dressing room, since she was embarrassed to have me stand outside. Her clothing size tended to be somewhat small, but she was in that awkward adolescent stage, so many items did not fit well. I absolutely insisted that she also buy a coat, as the cheap plastic raincoat that she wore was not very attractive. She had stared several times at the women's trench coats with zip-out linings, so I finally made her try them on right there until she found the right size.

When the cashier rang up the merchandise total, I thought that Mariya was going to faint. Her lovely brown eyes became huge, and she practically shouted "No, it is very much too expensive!" as she tugged on my arm. I told the startled cashier that it was Mariya's birthday, which of course it wasn't, and the clerk smiled at us both. "What the heck," I thought. There were times when I had spent this much money in a single night out, and wasn't nearly as happy as Mariya appeared to be. We walked to the car, and the chill air made us walk faster. As we were driving home she opened each bag and looked. She did seem extremely happy, and I guessed that she had never had this many new clothes before.

"I am very happy to wear these to school," she said as she looked at the new pants. "You are very kind to buy this for me. I still think that other girls are very much prettier and you should be buying for them. But it is so very expensive, I cannot believe." I looked over to her. That was about the most that she had ever said in one sentence. "That's okay," I said. "I'm glad to spend money on something that you really like." She reached over to hold my hand, and her fingers intertwined with mine. She smiled for the rest of the ride home, still peeking into her bags.

When we arrived at my place, we were still a little cold, as the car had not completely warmed up on the drive home. I told her that she was welcome to try on her new clothes while I made some tea. Most women that I knew had always tried on new clothes immediately after buying them, and Mariya was no different. I heard her close the bathroom door and fumble around with her packages.

About ten minutes later she stepped out and sheepishly asked me what I thought. She looked very nice. Her hair was pulled back using one of her new barrettes. Her hair exploded like a wide fishtail behind one shoulder, the dark brown color going well with her blouse. Her fashion instincts, it seems, were very good. I sat down the tea and approached her as she stood in the hallway. She was indeed quite attractive. I looked into her face, held her by the waist, and slowly kissed her. Her arms went around my neck. Still locked in an embrace, I moved against her and her back went up against the closet door. I felt my hips press against hers. I was afraid of scaring her, but our kissing just became rougher, with gasps of air as I began to grind against her. I couldn't help myself, and knew that it was the wrong thing to do, but continued to press against her as we embraced for several minutes.

 
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