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I was living in what would soon be a paradise lost, but of course I didn't realise this was paradise since it was the present moment, not yet adorned with the aura of past memories.Today was my birthday. My father wasn't there; my mother was even less there. My father worked at the Canadian embassy and was busy dating a glamorous opera singer I had yet to meet; my mother had died in a tragic accident two years before. We moved.Rome was a bustling place; filled with children's laughter and the shadows of a long-gone past. I didn't like children and had no spirit for laughter; I preferred to read Latin epics in the shadowy apartment I had all to myself most of the time. Books were my most reliable friends. I was learning Italian, but I preferred Latin with its shadowy grammar and odd habits. I felt lonely at times, but I quickly learned to love the freedom that went along with it.I was in the spring of my life, yet I was living with a foot in the graveyard. Whenever I read about some mysterious goddess, my mother was there, smiling under a veil, suddenly there, jumping at me in a sentence from behind the curtains of an antiquated expression that lay dead until I opened the book and the words were fresh and alive in my mind. She stood right there like a white lady with infinite love. I almost felt her hand on my shoulder. I cried at times.My days and nights were crowded with weightless dreams and high adventure, alongside centuries of past readers. I had modern cheese sandwiches, laughter and yelling from the street down below, and footsteps down the hallway; footsteps leading to the opening and closing of a door, the front door of our new neighbour.Her footsteps were light, so I assumed she was a she. Other than that, I didn't know anything about her. Something in her fascinated me, be it the rhythm of her stride, the weightlessness of her steps or something else. I was a shy lad, but I had to see who she was.She had moved in only a few days ago, and I never heard the heavier footsteps that would indicate a husband or lover. I quickly grew keen on listening to the opening of her door and the tune of her light footsteps. Loneliness stung me harder whenever I heard her. I wanted her in my life.How was I going to meet her? I didn't know her at all; no friend for making introductions.My father wasn't generous with his time in my company, but he did give me money to get by. I decided to pull out a recipe book and cook my own birthday cake. I was going to make myself a tiramisu cake, and while I was at it, I would prepare spaghetti with true Bolognese sauce, complete with chicken livers and white wine to jazz up the flavours.Thus, I put on my shirt, strapped on my necktie, and there I went with my Yankee-looking sports jacket and a fedora hat. I was relying on that hat to purchase the pinot grigio I needed for my recipe. I was in for a new cultural shock.When I nervously put forward the bottle before the store owner with the rim of my hat very low, hoping I would somehow pass for a grown-up, the man looked at me with a jovial face and laughed; then he spoke to his daughter in rapid Italian. The raven-haired girl laughed too, which vexed me a little as I found her pretty and she looked my age. Using very awkward English, she said, "Signore, no need nervous be; in Italia, age for drink, sixteen."There I went with my grocery bag filled with all my ingredients and this unimpeachable bottle of pinot grigio. Since I was a tall lad, they didn't question whether I was sixteen or not; they would have been much surprised to know that I was still too young to drink in Italy when I got to bed the night before.When I got back upstairs and put my key inside my front door, I looked at that mysterious number five. The curves in that industrially produced iron five were suddenly sexy to my eyes; perhaps a shower was running behind that closed door, and under that shower...The closest I've been to seeing a woman naked was in museums. These white marble statues looked stiff and lifeless; I preferred reading about goddesses and nymphs in my ancient texts. When the Latin words gave a generic portrayal of a virgin goddess, I filled in the blanks and visualised the free movements of her breasts under her peplum; Pallas hid her all-female pair of mounds under her warlike armour. Visualizing what she looked like when she got out of her bronze cuirass and her linen peplum to take a bath got me as hard as the spear she carried.What would it be like to see a woman? To touch her? To undress her? To kiss her? To make love with her? Such questions that meant nothing to me only a year before were now haunting my daydreams.They ran through my mind as I cut the carrots and onions to prepare the battuto, the first stage in the Bologna sauce. I took my time and went step by step; after a half hour's work, my sauce was simmering in the pot at a gentle heat, and the aromas were already filling the small apartment. Now was the time to start preparing the cake.Sugar. The old sugar routine. It wasn't original, but there was my chance to finally meet that mystery girl.After putting my teal jacket back on, I fought my paralysing shyness and made the trip to that dreaded number five. I knocked gently."Chi è?" sang an angel's voice in Italian, with a definite English accent."I'm the son of your neighbour at number seven. I... I need to... to borrow some sugar to cook my birthday cake.""Say again? Who's this?"Her English was flawless; it sounded British and cautious, meaning she was probably home alone. My heart was racing. Fighting the urge to run back to safety, I repeated my story. I was her neighbour's son and I was out of sugar to cook my own birthday cake.She opened the door ajar, leaving the chain on. Her face materialized in the narrow frame; she was an incredibly pretty brunette with her luminous skin even brighter against her dark lipstick and dark hair; her short hair looked almost boyish, but it was styled in a way that intensified her feminine allure, which she had in spades. Her face and mirthful eyes looked all the brighter against the door's dark wooden frame. She looked youthful, perhaps nineteen, but something deep in her eyes told me she could be a bit older."Well, well, did you just lose your tongue, young man? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Oooh, but you sure look nice and cute! You said something about cooking your birthday cake. Aren't your parents around?""My mom's dead and my father's almost never with me.""Sorry to hear this. My condolences for your mother; she must have been quite a gal to have such a handsome son. Well, aren't you going to come inside?"While she talked, she unhooked Malatya Escort the chain and began to playfully smile at me. When I shyly walked inside, she stood in front of me and extended her hand to bid me welcome. She was tall, very slim and incredibly graceful to look at. If she wasn't an actress, then she ought to audition and they'd give her the part. Yes, she was that wonderful a sight."I was having a quick platter of sandwiches," she said as I shyly shook hands with her, getting electrified by the daintiness of her touch. "If you don't mind, I'll sit on my rug and keep eating while you tell me about you. You got me curious! Do you want a Seven-Up? And where are you from? Your English doesn't sound American and certainly not British."I nodded and she gracefully walked down the passageway and into her kitchen to fetch me a soft drink. She was barefoot! The soft pitter-patter of her steps on the rug prompted an unimpeachable erection that grew an embarrassing bulge on my trousers. I put my hands together in front of my lap before she came back, smiling with a look of jocund amusement about her.Once I thanked her and had a full, cold glass in my hand, she sat right down on the rug, beside her sandwich platter with a green-glass bottle of Seven-Up. She looked at me and resumed eating her half-consumed sandwich while another one was waiting for her."I'm trying to put on some weight, maybe two or three pounds, just enough to be more energetic. I grew up in Holland and let's just say the war wasn't very kind to me. What about you? Where did you grow up to be such a tall, good-looking lad?" she asked while gently sipping from her Seven-Up bottle through a straw."Well, Ma'am, I...""I'm Audrey by the way.""I'm Dean. I'm Canadian, from Montreal. Rose... Rosemère, to be more precise.""Rosemère? Where's that?""It's a very small town, lost in some woods, about twelve miles north from Montreal. But there's a golf course; I used to work there, before my mother...""A golf course. Interesting. And did you play?""Yes. Monday mornings, when staff were allowed to play for free.""And what's your favourite hole? Do you like curvy hills?"As she spoke, I kept looking at her feet. They drove me crazy with lust. I felt like reaching down and touching those girly feet. She kept observing me. She was now sitting in a laid-back position with her legs out and half bent in front of her and supporting her weight on her arms behind her, with her chest out, as if making sure I noticed her boobs, which formed a pair of perky mounds under her striped turtleneck shirt; these thin white stripes followed and emphasised the shapes of her pushed-out breasts on that black shirt; they silently screamed, "Here we are! Don't you want to touch us?"I grew very curious to see them. In my daydreams, a wild animal rushed at her and ripped that turtleneck off her, and her bra too, and covered her suddenly naked boobs with flows of adoring kisses and infinite licking. Civilised me quietly drank his Seven-Up while enjoying each and every second of the encounter. She kept gently smiling at me. Something almost palpable was taking shape between us. I never felt such... such tension between me and another person. I loved it. I breathed deeply and let the present moment flood me with happiness. Being with her felt great. She had more to offer than a pair of boobs; an awful lot more."You seem to be a curious teenage boy. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Right now, I have some work to do. I'm playing a part and I must learn my lines and rehearse the scene, but in two hours, I'll be as free as a bird. Here's what we'll do! I'll give you the sugar you need, then I'll knock on your door about, say, four o'clock, and we'll bake that cake together. What do you say?"I couldn't say anything. The more she spoke, the more her voice enthralled me. Her figure was stirring new sensations inside me; seeing her sitting on that rug, while finishing her sandwich and sipping her Seven-Up gave me some waking dreams that were not entirely moral.Audrey kept playfully smiling at me as she observed me; her eyes were a world of springtime mirth. I kept looking at the slender lines of her pants, making out the well-toned legs underneath the black fabric; her feet were an erotic hot spot that I just couldn't take my eyes off. She followed my gaze and laughed, casting her head back and giving me the best pushed-out view on her breast shapes along with a show of feet as she moved and pointed them like a ballerina."Mighty pleased to meet you, Dean, and see you in a couple of hours! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!" she giggled.I shyly nodded and reluctantly took my leave. I felt all funny inside when I crossed the hallway, back into my world and wondering whether that girl was real or not.Back in my living room, my eyes fell on the chessboard my father bought from a Turkish man in a bazaar; the black knight met me with the usual stern look on his moustached face. The Blacks were styled as Ottomans, with the pawns beardless and armed with long spears as Janissaries, and the black queen looked like the most fascinating Middle Eastern figure I had ever seen, standing at the left of her Muslim king. The Whites formed a Christian army with knights in full armour, pawns wearing chainmail and carrying swords or maces or axes, or a spear, and their queen as blonde and fair as the purest lass one could think of, next to her bearded king, who looked twice her age.That set of chess was absolutely fascinating, with each piece individualized and having its own tale to tell. Each pawn or piece looked as if it was about to spring to life. This was art in good taste.Unlike the rest of the apartment, the pieces were neatly aligned and ready for yet another war. The chessboard was collecting dust, like every single object in the living room where untidiness ruled unchallenged.After stirring my simmering pot of Bolognese sauce, I got started on the cake and quickly put out the ingredients. I trusted my new acquaintance and left the flour and sugar in bowls, ready for us to make the tiramisu cake together.I took off my shirt and tie and got busy with tidying up the living room and dusting the furniture. Once freshly dusted, the white bishops on the chessboard looked more like their purple-adorned selves, perhaps looking with some envy at the pair of Turkish viziers, who were allowed not only to marry, but also to have several wives in their harem.Midway through my cleaning duties, the chessboard and the opposing queens became too much of a temptation; I began to play whites against myself. I was trying to distract myself out of my increasing nervousness. Malatya Escort Bayan As I progressed through the openings, playing a Sicilian defence for the blacks against a classic Spanish game for the whites, I kept thinking of Audrey. I pictured a beautiful maid in each of the four towers, two pale-skinned Italians on the bright side and two olive-skinned, raven-haired beauties on the Turkish, shadowy side. Whoever took the rook could have the girl!I put Audrey in the Queen-side rook. Three strokes later, I made a "mistake" and a black knight, the one with the large scimitar, took that rook. I got a sizeable erection under my trousers as I pictured that brown-faced warrior grabbing Audrey as his prize and telling her she had to surrender to the Ottoman might! She let him kiss her and begged him to rip off her striped turtleneck shirt. I imagined her just as she was in her apartment, wearing her pants, and presently moaning as the moustached knight tore the shirt off her bosom; she moaned louder as he made short work of her bra before promptly pulling the pants off her legs.Moments later, he was on top of her, and she willingly received him between her long legs, crossing her ankles on top of him and giving me the show of her feet, with earth blackening her tender soles as she kept moaning on conquered soil while the grunting knight banged her with Turkish gusto at the foot of the Leaning Tower of Pisa, until he let out a thundering cry of victory as he filled her up. My imagination was running wild!I had knelt down by the coffee table and I was gently caressing my erection as it gloriously stood out of my trousers, when the door resonated with a knock, then a couple of other knocks that sounded just loud enough to be heard. Audrey's dainty hand was behind those knocks. Oh, God!As the knocks were repeated, I hurriedly zipped my trousers again, putting my raging erection under arrest, and I stood up, waiting for that embarrassing bulge to subside a bit."Hello, Dean? It's me, Audrey! I finished rehearsing early. Are you home?" she said as she repeated her gentle knocks.Not answering would be rude. I grabbed my discarded shirt and held it against my lap as I answered the door. She must have seen the embarrassment on my face. She laughed as soon as she walked in."Hmm! You look awesome in that white tee shirt! Those arms do have some muscles!" she commented, casually feeling my upper arms.I looked at her with my jaw dropped and pure astonishment. I was petrified. I never expected she'd do this! But I loved her touch. She wasn't wearing gloves since we weren't headed out, so the contact was skin-on-skin! I shivered from head to toe with a probable case of goosebumps.She giggled, obviously noticing my embarrassment. She clearly liked this."P... Please, Ma'am... D... Do come in...""None of that Ma'am thing; call me Audrey!" she said as she walked in.Oh, God! She was still barefoot!"Looking down at my feet again, eh?" she added, casting me a playful, reassuring look that silently told me she actually enjoyed my gaze on her.She stood in front of me in such a way as to offer me a three-quarter view on her bosom. Her small boobs looked full on her slim frame and they rode high on her chest, soberly covered by the same turtleneck shirt she was wearing earlier; white stripes on a black, double-hill field. She was the thinnest and tallest girl I had ever seen from so close; her juicy figure and the life in her eyes left me speechless. Her eyes looked brown at first sight, but from up close, they looked moss green in the room's natural daylight.She whirled like a ballerina as she stepped into the living room, smiling at me like an angel as she spun on her dainty feet. There was such intense life about her! She danced about, her arms moving into theatrical poses as she kept teasing my eyes with her pointed feet."So... Aren't we going to make that cake? How many candles on that cake?""Sixteen.""That's the age I was when the war ended. I turned sixteen on the fourth of May 1945, three days before the Germans surrendered."Audrey spoke with tragic notes in her voice. I listened respectfully as she spoke while fidgeting with a toy soldier she just picked up from a wooden shelf. She then put the dark-blue Prussian soldier down and produced two cigarettes out of her front-pant pockets.She offered one and I took it, making it my first cigarette ever. She lighted it and I coughed shamefully as I took my first puff. Tears welled in my eyes."You must inhale it slowly and gently, just like you would kiss a girl. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Ooh, you're so cute with these tears in your eyes! They're green, aren't they? Green like a forest in Canada!" she said, standing near me, looking straight into my eyes, inches from me as she lighted her own cigarette.She went on with her story; I kindly invited her to on the sofa and we sat together. She sat surprisingly close, her thigh nearly touching mine."Canadian soldiers liberated my town in April. They came with chocolate and cigarettes. (She exhaled some thin bluish smoke.) To me, these two things are the taste of liberty; cigarettes and chocolate! (She exhaled another puff.) I turned sixteen at that time, and I was so thin! No boy wanted to date me! I stood five feet seven and weighed only eighty-eight pounds! I was so thin that the wind could almost pick me up like a kite!""Well, that must have been a very sexy kite!" I replied without thinking. Her jaw dropped, her eyes rounded."Now, what do you know!" she said, exhaling another thin film of bluish smoke. "The shy boy is suddenly becoming a playboy! Oh, but I like it when you call me sexy! All right, let's go to the kitchen! We have a cake to bake! Take my hand and follow me, young man! Stand up to attention! March forward! Ta-ra-ta-ta! Ta-ra-ta-ta! Ta-ra-ta-ta..."She acted so funny! What a strange girl! Yet she was insanely sexy.She led me like that to the kitchen, holding my hand like a big sister while humming some tune for military drums. Was she teasing me and reminding me that I was still the age of a drummer boy? I suddenly felt an urge, deep inside me; the urge for her! I felt like grabbing her and forcing a kiss on her. I just thought of it, and couldn't find the boldness in me to actually do this.Once in the sunlit kitchen, it didn't take her long to become familiar with the premises and start cooking. She clearly had done this sort of cake before and she bossed me around, telling me to do this, to fetch this, to put that into the mixing bowl, etc.While she cooked, I kept looking at her feet, at her boobs, at the rest of her figure. Escort Malatya Through her pants, I could make out her slender hips and butt. Like her short hair, her buttocks looked boyish, but in some fascinating way, they ended up enhancing her feminine beauty instead of detracting from it.I caught her looking at me once or twice; she noticed and giggled then, smoking another cigarette and playfully eying me as she kept on with her efficient kitchen duty. I already felt I was going to miss her when she'd be gone. She brought a much-needed feminine presence to my world.At one point, she took a small spoon from the simmering sauce and congratulated me on my success. "This was the first scent I picked when I came. This is going to be a great feast for us! Are you happy to have a date on your birthday?""Yes, very much!""Oh, that much?""Well, yes. You're... You're actually the first girl I'm dating one-on-one. I had a couple of friends back in Canada, but it was all child's play; going for a milkshake at the malt shop and that was about it. With you, it's... It's different.""Different in what? You got your girl curious, Dean!" she exclaimed with sudden excitement in her voice, exhaling yet another puff from her nearly consumed cigarette."It's, I dunno... It's sexier, much sexier!""Would you like to see the boobs of a girl?""Huh?!""Would you like to see a girl topless? Here in Italy, at least half the boys your age have seen the naked breasts of their girl! You keep looking at mine all the time. Curious, aren't we?"My jaw dropped as I realised what she was doing. After gracefully putting her cigarette butt in the ashtray, she took the hem of her turtleneck shirt and raised it all the way up! Her white bra suddenly materialised along with her slender, well-toned bust and her slim abdomen with a delicate slit for her navel, with hints of her widening hips where her black pants kept their sharply contrasting frontier."The lighting is perfect here!" she said, a bit nervously as her tucked-up shirt passed her head. The cups of her bra hypnotised my gaze as she discarded her shirt on the tiled floor. She was heavily breathing when her hands went behind her back and, like a dream come true, she dropped her bra and stood in front of me, offering me the soft paleness of her boobs under the room's natural light."Well, what do you think?" she said in her playful tone, giggling, albeit more nervously now.I stood speechless with a powerful erection pushing my pants. She was so beautiful! Gorgeous! I couldn't believe my eyes! Seeing boobs in the flesh was incredibly more intense than seeing a topless girl in some black-and-white picture. Audrey's nipples seemed to float amid small circles of rosy splendour on top of snow-white hills that looked slightly bottom-heavy and seemed to suck all the light in the room. They looked fascinatingly wide apart on either side of her pure cleavage, out to the sides of her torso and casting curvy shadows below their glorious paleness."Don't be shy, Dean. I'm not going to bite you! Come closer and touch them. I'd like this very much! Come on! I'll show you how to do it like a gentleman!"The playfulness in her voice multiplied her erotic force. My legs were like lead, but I made my advance toward paradise. I loved the way she called me by my name, treating me like an equal, although she was clearly calling the shots.The very moment my hand landed on her left breast would live in my mind forever. My erection was hard, then it got wicked hard, nearly painful as I felt her ungodly softness under my hesitating hand. Audrey's boobs! Naked. Skin on skin."Go gently. Take your time, Dean. Yes, caress the side, very softly, like this; ooh, yes! Please, Dean, kiss my nipples. Gently! Gently... Oh yes! Just like this! Ooh, it's so good! Yes, lick my nipple a bit; always go gently, but be relentless. Yess!" she purred.Without realising it, I was on my knees and sucking her breasts, gently, like she asked. Her hands were caressing my crew-cut hair as the tip of my tongue learned the delicate texture of her girl-scented nipple. The tip of her left boob was now coated with my spit; her other one felt gently full in my left hand. Paradise!"Ohh, yes! That's my gentle boy!" she purred again as I kept getting lost in her delicate geography. I had no idea a girl could be so soft to the touch and her nipples would taste so good in my mouth. I loved leaning my face on her left breast, letting her softness caress me, feeling the loving imprint of her nipple on my cheek as I contemplated the full profile of her opposite boob from close enough to enjoy the tiny recess where its shadowy underside joined the flawless beauty of her torso. Her little nipple stood so beautifully at the free-moving edge of that profile!"Do you want to know a girl's secret? This is the first time I'm doing this with a teenage boy, and I'm loving this! Please, keep kissing them! They'll feel lonely without you. Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha! Yes! Yes, ooh, so gently! Ooh, you're learning fast... Yes, this is my first time with a teenager. I dated a few men, but I've always wanted to... Ooh, yes! Always wanted to date a boy my age when I was a teenager myself."As I listened to her and kept playing with her toplessness, it dawned on me that she'd let me kiss her if I wanted. I had never kissed a girl for real. The notion of kissing an older girl filled me with wild anticipation.I stood up as she spoke about the war; she was talking about a girl called Anne Frank, a Dutch girl like her; same age as her, but she died in a concentration camp. "Anne is the girl who didn't make it. And I survived. Why?"She started to cry, tears gently rolling down her loving eyes as she looked up to me, suddenly shorter and small in my arms. "Why me? Why me and not her?" she repeated amid sudden sobs. I had no idea what to tell her.I kissed her and gently caressed her face, wiping the tears from her face. She kissed me back, her lips gently caressing mine, her fingers running delicate errands in my hair, her naked boobs gently pressed against my larger torso with my tee-shirt forming a thin curtain between us. Time stopped.There was just silence, except for the gently simmering spaghetti sauce and voices from the bustling street down below. Italy at its finest, and the finest Dutch girl in my arms. Kissing her was out of this world; her lips were wet velvet and I loved the taste of her lipstick.It didn't matter that I was clumsy and came a bit too strong with my tongue between her lips; she gently opened her mouth and received me; the taste of her cigarette and the heat in her breath engulfed my world. She felt happy in my arms. She had never dated a teenager before, so I treated her like a girl of my own age. This was no doubt what she wanted. I softly caressed her cheek with genuine care in my fingertips; I did it while feeling she was the prettiest girl ever. I was hopelessly in love. Already!