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Rated: 13+ · Prose · Experience · #1279841
This is a experimental piece taken from an actual experience.
She is so beautiful...That's the best way to say it. Even to say that she has dazzling blue eyes, an elegant figure, and silken dark hair with exciting blonde streaks, and an electrifying touch is not enough to justify her splendor.

By chance we were partners in a self-defense class offered by our school district, which of course required physical contact. I was a bit uncomfortable at first because she was so young, mid twenties, early thirties at best. I didn’t want to come off as a pervert although I was looking forward to working with her.

We went over several types of restraints and defensive blocks, and took turns as the aggressor and defender to practice the moves. I preferred being the aggressor most of all; animal instinct I guess.

I approached her with my arms extended and wrapped my hands around her neck. Her skin was soft like new vellum, and the hair between her neck and my grip was smooth, light to the touch, yet full; I liked the way it felt.

Changing roles, she approached me with her arms extended and wrapped her delicate fingers around my neck. Her fingers were cool, not cold, nice. We communicated through our eyes. I wanted to stay in that position…forever… we both seemed to enjoy it rather playfully.

Throughout the course, I could not help but admire her form; half hoping she would not notice my love sick gaze, and half hoping that she would. I planned to approach her after class, but what would I say to her? How I could I keep from doing something stupid?

At the end of class we were tested and free to go once we finished. She completed her test first, and I hurried to complete mine, timing was of the essence, I wanted to catch her before she left. I anticipated meeting her at the door, but once outside I was disheartened to learn that she was gone. Maybe she left a note on my window. I walked out to my van, but there was nothing there. I badgered myself for not talking to her earlier. What’s worse, I didn’t even ask for her name. With a name I could find her. All I knew was that she drove a blue Mustang.
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