A Polaroid of Kristina, Part 4 - Sex Stories

A Polaroid of Kristina, Part 4

... that for a while, eating in comfort, listening to Mozart, not saying much at first. Soon we talked more freely. She asked me questions about college, and about my friends. And she listened with that attention that is so rare. The attention that makes you realize that the person is truly interested and not just waiting for their turn to talk. After ten minutes or so, the music slowed, and she asked, “Do you know this piece? I think this movement is one of the most beautiful ever written. Listen.” She was absolutely right. I listened, rapt. At one point I noticed that Kristina was listening with her eyes closed, and I thought I detected a tear at the corner of her eye. I looked away, and when I looked back again, she had composed herself, even though she still looked serious. A few minutes later, when the music sped up again, her mood lightened. Our sandwiches were gone, and she looked at me, and said, “I think I perhaps should repay your generosity in making my fantasy of many years come true. You are an intelligent, imaginative young man. Surely there are things you have imagined doing. And I would very much like to fulfill those fantasies. Is there anything in particular you would like to try?” My tongue was frozen. There were any number of things, even though I would have of course been happy just to have “normal” sex with her. I had only done that the one time after all, and the novelty had hardly worn off. But the very serious, matter-of-fact way she had asked about ...

... “anything” had set my mind spinning. Did she really mean “anything”? I opened my mouth to speak, and nothing came out. I hardly knew what to say. It seemed I had a harder time talking to her about sex when we were wearing clothes. Naked, or in the moment, it was at least somewhat easier. Now, sitting on the floor, our plates from our just-eaten lunch next to us, our nakedness covered, the situation felt much more ordinary, and so just blurting out a kinky fantasy seemed all the more difficult. Kristina took my hand in hers. “Michael, there is nothing you could say that would offend me. There may perhaps be something I would find completely unappealing, although I cannot imagine what that might be. Even though I had not made love in many years before yesterday, I was very… enthusiastic in my younger days. I promise not to judge you or make you feel that your desires are to be ashamed of.” I still could not speak. She tried again. “Have you ever watched pornography?” she asked. I nodded, still mute, my cheeks reddening at the admission. “And in those films, in the scenes in which it is just one man and one woman, do the men and women make love in a variety of positions?” “Yes,” I croaked. “And do any of them appeal to you in particular? The woman on top? The woman on her hands and knees, being taken from behind?” “Yes,” I repeated, sounding stupid to myself even as she led me through the dialogue. “Do they sometimes have anal sex?” My heart skipped a beat. Was she offering? That had ...