More From A Confession


I wrote a confession about my father's friend Antoine, who works still as an artist and sculptor, and used to run a small gallery here in Elne. He was thirty-nine when I was fourteen and he seduced me.

Antoine knew my father from the Castel, a semi-religious semi-philosophical society (secret society), and they became friends despite the differences in social background. My father is a farmer, essential of goats, we make Pyrenean Tomme cheese, and Antoine is an artist, trained at the Beaux Arts.

When you say fourteen and thirty-nine it sounds quite bad, but now I am twenty-one and he is only forty-six! It is quite relative, really. I am sure there are societies who frown on such occurrances, but life doesn't always reflect social acceptances.

I mentioned how I wore a short blue cotton skirt, over white panties, with a white tee, no bra, and just sandals on my feet, and how physical he was with me in describing a piece of art, the inspiration for his sculpture. He stroked my arm, and then my hip, and when he was talking about the piece's 'derriere' he stroked mine, and patted it!

I didn't realise how my reaction pleased him, because I didn't challenge his patting my seat, he next pushed the edge of his index finger under the fabric of my panties. He was touching my buttock, tenderly, before he actually pushed his hand under my panties to stroke me fully on my rump.

It was a few moments later I felt him touch my *****, just a finger on my labial lips, a slight push on them, a push through them into my vagina a little.
CEBarthez CEBarthez
18-21, F
2 Responses May 5, 2012

Thanks for sharing!

and ? you have to finish the story