As you may have noticed from previous posts, I’m old school when we talk about your “first time” age. Because of my personal experience, and because I find it good, you won’t hear me advocate that it doesn’t matter what you do and how young you are if you’re in love. No way! It does matter as much as making or breaking your entire life! Because there’s a maturity age before which the person can’t even explain what love means. You definitely have to “articulate” about love, to have read classic literature, to have heard classic music, to acquire a minimum of cultural baggage (yes, I’m talking about the Christian European-centered culture) before you may go wild past holding hands.
In high school, I was in tongue after Alain Delon, “La tulipe noire,” you know (“The Black Tulip” in English).
This made me pay attention to a couple boys that remotely resembled Alain Delon. In a recall from today, they had nothing like the actor and his heroic characters of action movies de cape et d’épée. But to my schoolgirl mind, they had “the eyes” of Alain Delon. I gazed at one of them long enough to stir his attention. He offered to walk me home from school. We hold hands and chatted about magnificent plans and perspectives. I did most of the talking, he proved to be a listener. We didn’t kiss and didn’t date. We were just good friends. Charming eyes and movie fantasy proved too superficial for me to motivate a romantic relationship.
The other “black tulip” high school colleague was nagging me too much to even consider returning his advances. It was clear as spring water that he wanted me in bed. Not in the cards for me. I had to learn like mad for the terrible admission exam at Law (twenty-seven candidates for each seat!), no time to waste on frugal high school love affairs.
Years later, in a college summer camp, I put my gaze on another target. The eye attraction worked as always (you magnetize them with your humble and desirable stare). He approached and talked to me. And talked, and kept talking. Not about football or basketball, but about German philosophers, about physics and science-fiction, about classics from the nineteenth century literature, and about aircraft. Yes, the last subject (aircraft) was not on my plate. But he charmed me enough with all the others and made me genuinely believe his words when saying that the stars are just a jump away from touching them. So I fell in love, fast!
Less than a year later, I gave my maidenhood to him. Eight years later, I helped him film our first time (ever!) home porn (he erased the VHS tape three times in the same night, after we watched it couple times together).
And twenty years later I started nude modelling for him and for his dreams. He took me to mydangspace.com (moved here, note Aug. 2014) where he shares images of my naked body with the bots sent out by Google, and with whomever comes to watch. I feel good about posing nude and about my sexuality as a “domestic cougar bunny” — as he likes to say about me. Age is not a factor if you keep the romance up.
The morals of my little story: don’t haste to burn out your love in high school; allow time and space for the romance to work around you; gaze at those Alain Delon look-alike eyes as much as you want — they call this “flirt.” But once you’ve trapped your loved one with your stare, don’t forget to flirt with him every morning, every day and evening, like you did the first time. Flirting tells you (and him) that your soul is still young.
All the above pictures were taken by my hubby in the late spring of 2007, when I agreed to model for him in my birthday suit. They’re not at all perfect because no one meant to publish them and the camera was a run-of-the-mill thirty Euros worth soap box. It turned out that he eventually managed to make them public — something that didn’t cross my mind at that time!