The Utterly Exhausting, Beguiling Cassie
Copyright© 2013 Renpet. All rights reserved
Chapter 6: Friday, One Week Later
Erotic Sex Story: Chapter 6: Friday, One Week Later - Fifteen-year-old Cassie proves to be almost more than I can handle, emotionally and physically - an overwhelming experience.
Caution: This Erotic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/ft Consensual Heterosexual Fiction Oral Sex Anal Sex Petting
SITTING ON A HARD wooden bench and shifting uncomfortably as my butt slowly turned numb, I watched Cassie rehearse a modern ballet, Roland Petit's "Pink Floyd Ballet."
I admired the movement of Cassie's slender body clad in what looked to me like skin-tight light-gray yoga pants, yellow leg warmers and a loose yellow cotton top.
I was quite immobile as she treated me to body swoops, bends, arms forming waves, toes pointed, fingers talking. The incredible Pink Floyd's Dark Side of The Moon cascaded over me. Combining beautiful music with beautiful movement performed by a young angel sent shivers up my spine. But, as Cassie bent, her slender legs straight and together, a succulent little ass curving sensuously, and slowly raised one leg into the air, a standing leg split position, her remarkable ass forming sexy shapes, I suddenly had a vision of her on my bed spreading her legs wide, panties stretching and forming tight to her pussy, and a camel toe emerging in a seductive little invitation for me to explore. My cock thickened, responding to an overactive imagination.
As if she knew what I was thinking, Cassie glanced my way and smiled knowingly.
I chastised myself. I was glad to be back. I was glad to have helped Jerry and was quite pleased with the payment swelling my bank account. But it had been an agonising, soul-searching week away.
I felt bipolar, my mood swinging from pure unadulterated pleasure at the sexual side of Cassie's and my relationship, to deep depression and even shame for succumbing to her and betraying her mother, Mary, a wonderful woman I'd known for fifteen years.
Work had helped take my mind off the problem, but it hung like low, heavy clouds over my head. The only solution I could come up with was to stop. Somehow I had to stop our sexual relationship and wait until she turned eighteen. And, as deeply depressing as that thought was, watching her practice, seeing her move so gracefully, my heart racing just from observing her, I knew, if she loved me, she'd wait. That only made it harder.
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