A subtle scent fills my senses. “Are you wearing perfume?” I ask. “Yes”. “It smells nice” I reply rapidly leaving the living room to hide my embarrassment¬† . “Thanks” I hear you say as I exit my lounge.
I am twice your age and some more and yet I am drawn to you. Just sixteen you sit on my sofa wearing your school uniform. Conscience struggles with lust within me. You could be my daughter but does that matter? The law says that you are mature enough to have sex. You are not a child but not quite a woman, perhaps that is your attraction to me.
What would you do if I asked “may I touch your face?” Would you¬†¬† allow my hands to gently explore your face with it’s soft black skin. Would you enjure my touch or, perhaps derive pleasure from my caresses? Where you to respond to my touch with pleasure what then? Would I dive in, take you and make you mine for the moment? If I did what then, after the love making, what then?
You are sweet, can I destroy that youthful inocence? No I can not and yet if you show that you want me what then? Can I hold back and, if not what about the “wee small voice of conscience” afterwards?