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Welcome to our "smut" library. Here you will find various information articles and exciting stories dedicated to voyeurism. We welcome erotic fiction from our visitors. Notice that we add points to authors for every story we publish.

Albert and Lucinda (18 February 2011)

I would watch him for hours from my bedroom window. He was the most perfect specimen of a man I ever knew. To this day, I can't get over how absolutely beautiful he was, in every respect. He was the first man I ever took inside my body. I willingly gave him my maidenhead and have never regretted it for an instant.

His family was from Columbia. His mother and father traveled quite a bit as they owned a textile import business, leaving Albert and his younger sister Soagia, home alone a good deal of the time.

Soagia became my best friend in elementary school and as we girls grew through puberty, first boyfriends and so on, and as we shared so many of our hopes and dreams, we became more like sisters than neighbors.

Albert was fifteen years older than his sister. He doted on her and therefore, by association, he too, doted on me. We were his damsels and it was his duty to keep us from distress.

I fell in love with Albert the moment I laid eyes on him and in some respects, maybe deep inside, I knew I spent more time with Soagia than I ordinarily would have done, if it were not for Albert being ever present in her, and therefore, my life. But, over the years, Soagia forgave me when she finally figured out that I lusted after her brother. She told me that if he were not her brother, she too would have willingly given him her own virginity.

Albert did two things each day without fail. He tended the family grounds which had, without question, the most beautiful and imaginative garden in our town. The other thing he did for two hours every day, was lift weights. His physique was like a Greek God. He was also gay.

Sometimes, when his parents were home, he would take off on a business trip to some exotic location from which, upon his return, he would later show us pictures and regale us with the most amazing and amusing stories. He made a substantial living as a landscape architect, and was so well respected he would only work three or four times a year. The money was not important to Albert. The work was everything.

As I finished high school and was truly at a loss to choose a direction for my life, on a lark, I one day asked if I could apprentice with Albert. Without flinching, he agreed and I started work the first Monday after I graduated.

Albert was a taskmaster. He asked me to learn the names, both scientific and popular, of all the trees, plants and flowers on his property. When I had mastered those, he told me to bring him a different offering each day from nearby in the neighborhood. I was to explain the history of what I brought, how it came to be in our part of the world, and what environment would cause it to thrive and which soils would kill it.

Over the next two years, I took night classes in botany, but found Albert to be the best teacher of them all. He always said, to know plants and what they like, you need to put your bare hands in the soil where they live. If you leave your hands in the soil long enough, he would say, it would be like visiting the inside of a neighbor's house; you would get to see where they lived and what they needed to thrive. We also worked barefoot.

Our day's schedule had us work only in the mornings and in the late afternoons. Albert insisted we take siestas and as I lived next door, I would nap on our porch in our hammock. Albert would workout and then sit on his bench in the garden and meditate.

When we resumed work in the afternoon, if it was really hot, Albert would work without his shirt. His beautiful olive skin would glisten in the sun and soon he would be drenched in sweat with rivulets of water running down his back. I would be wet between my legs and once or twice I would have to excuse myself, using the "I need to go to the bathroom" ruse and run home and take care of my itch.

Whenever that happened, I swear Albert knew, as his nose for subtle changes in the surrounding bouquet of flowers was unparalleled. I would be embarrassed but, with a concerted effort, I would dig in, learn my lesson for the day, and work like a dog to make up for my delightful distraction. Sometimes, on nights when I didn't have class, I would be so tired; I would shower and go straight to sleep without eating. But I never complained.

Whenever Albert left town, I would tend the grounds for his parents and serve them lunch in the garden, usually consisting of salads made from garden greens and herbs with fruit from their trees as dessert. They had the best avocadoes I've ever tasted and the mangoes were divine.

His father was handsome in an aristocratic sense and his mother was so beautiful it was painful Though both were graying from the passing of years, they were still the most beautiful couple wherever they went. Sometimes Soagia, my parents, and I, would accompany them out for the evening. We always had the best time.

I think now of the way some people live their lives and shake my head in bewilderment. I have strived to emulate that easy, carefree existence where work was just as important as play. I'm getting there.

One day, Albert asked me if I'd like to accompany him to a wealthy patron's estate in Bali. I of course, jumped at the chance and spent the month getting my passport in order, making sure my parents would feed my cat, and generally chomping at the bit, like a thoroughbred about to enter its first real race.

When we finally flew onto the island, I was like a child going to a theme park for the first time. On the trip over, for the entire flight, I read aloud and discussed all of my research downloads with Albert. He never once let on that he knew anything about the island and would compliment me on my knowledge and thank me for informing him. Yeah, right. But that's how much of a gentleman he was.

For the first three days we worked. The entire estate was open to us as the owner was off doing business in some other corner of the world, so we had this enormous mansion, grounds, staff and anything else we could ask for at our beck and call. Albert never changed his manner one iota, but I watched the way the staff respected him and kept their distance from us, as if becoming too friendly would insult us. In a way, it made my time with Albert seem as if the entire paradise that is Bali was ours and ours alone.

On the fourth day, Albert said we were only going to work a half day and then we'd go into town for a bit of shopping. He also said we were taking the next day off to just,"do nothing," as he so eloquently put it.

If you have never been to Bali, you should go. The silks and cottons and the patterns which adorn their cloths are so amazing, you'll never look at a department store catalog again. Now I knew where Albert's mother got her beautiful shawls and parasols.

We finished shopping and went back to the estate for dinner. Staff had outdone themselves in preparing our evening's meal and the wine flowed like a glacier melting in Equatorial Africa.

It was during our third bottle that I told Albert that I loved him. He said, "I know you do little one, I know you do."

I passed out.

Late the next morning, I woke up to the smell of coffee. When I opened my eyes, I saw Albert fussing with a breakfast tray.

"Oh good," he said. "You're up."

He served me breakfast, cut my fruits, poured more coffee and generally and gradually helped me return to the land of the living. I told him I had felt better in my life, but thanks to him, I knew I could go on.

He told me to bathe then go back to bed. He'd wake me in the early afternoon.

I did as he suggested and fell right back asleep after my bath.

Later, as I was in the middle of a beautiful dream, I slowly realized someone was stroking my face saying my name in the quietest whisper I could ever imagine. I smiled, realized I was feeling much better and opened my eyes.

Albert was sitting on the side of the bed with a huge smile on his handsome face. I scooted over so he could sit next to me and patted the bed.

He smiled an even bigger smile, took off his sandals and got under the sheet with me.

"Do you know what day today is," he asked?

"Tuesday or, wait a minute, I think it's Wednesday," I replied.

"Do you know the date?"

"Ummm, February something," I responded.

"Well yes it is. In fact," he said, "it's February 14th and you know what that means don't you?"

Still a bit foggy from my excesses of the night before, I just shrugged my shoulders.

"Okay, then let me enlighten you by asking a question."

"Go ahead," I allowed.

"Will you be my Valentine?"

"Oh, Valentine's Day," I giggled. "Do they even celebrate that here in Bali," I asked?

"I don't know, but we're going to celebrate it. I want this day to be special for you."

"What have I done wrong," I asked, figuring I must have poisoned someone's plantation somewhere.

"Nothing, I've decided that your love should not go unrequited."

Oh my god, I thought. He remembered.

I felt so foolish that I'd declared my love to my boss, to my best friend's older brother, to my next door neighbor and to a gay man to boot. I almost felt as if he was mocking me, but something about Albert's smile told me he wasn't.

"I want to tell you a story," he said. "I've never told anyone, and I want you to promise me you'll listen without interrupting me. It won't take that long."

I nodded my agreement.

"If you listen without judging me or trying to ask too many questions, I will be in your debt."

"Okay, I won't talk, nor will I ever tell anyone," I said. "Whatever you tell me, is for me and for me only."

"Thank you."

I waited while he gathered his thoughts and then he began his story.

"When I was a young man, first starting to travel with my parents and beginning to be interested in making my living assisting the lives of plants and flowers, a client took me into his garden, and without going too much into the details of how he got his way, he took my pants down and gave me pleasure with his mouth. After I came, he asked if I'd like to do the same for him. I couldn't think of any reason not to, so I very awkwardly reciprocated."

Albert looked at me for a moment until I nodded understanding, an understanding that, at the time, meant little more for me than understanding the particulars of the encounter.

He went on with his story.

"A few years later, I met the son of another client who was as beautiful as any woman I had ever seen, anywhere. In the circles I travel in, there are many beautiful women, but none were as beautiful as this boy. And he was wild."

"One night at a party, we wound up dancing with each other, but not touching, moving to the rhythms of the music, offering and accepting one dance gesture after another."

"Later, we walked by a lake and then kissed. When the kiss ended, he bent over the trunk of a fallen tree and I took him from behind. When I was finished, he cleaned me with his mouth and smiled the most deliciously evil smile I've ever experienced. Remembering back to my first experience, I asked him if he'd like me to reciprocate. He look horrified and said no, absolutely not."

"It was the third time in a four year period, I'd met him at one place or another, when he told me that he thought at first I was straight and that for him, the thrill of having me penetrate him gave him a feeling of superiority and of conquest. After he explained why he was attracted to me, I grew bored of him and never saw him again."

"Since that time, probably ten or eleven years ago, I've never had sex with anyone, man or woman. I've stayed celibate and, to tell the truth, I thought I was always going to be that way. Oddly, that didn't bother me at all."

Albert stopped for a minute, reached to the cart by the side of the bed, poured some water, drank and looked at me.

"That is, until you told me you loved me."

My breath froze in my throat and my heart stopped beating.

"It's odd," he said. "I guess I've always known it, but as you are so much younger, I think I just chalked it up to puppy love. But the way you have blossomed over these last two years, the way you take to heart everything I say and the way you are basically always with me, it makes sense that there is more to our friendship, our relationship, then just a mentor student friendship. Yeah. I guess I knew, at some level, you in fact really did love me."

I couldn't speak. I couldn't even move. I was petrified of doing or saying the wrong thing that would cause Albert to quit speaking and I knew he had to go on, because I knew, intuitively, I knew as a woman knows, he had more to say.

"I've never made love with a woman. Come to think of it, I've never really made love, though I always thought I knew what love is."

"I'm a virgin," I blurted out.

Albert was quite for a moment or two. He seemed to be thinking about the implications of my revelation. He cleared his throat and began talking again.

"In a strange way, so am I," Albert said. "Though I am a master of all things flora, I'm really inexperienced in matters of the heart."

"It's Valentine's Day," I reminded him. "I think love is the true invisible hand and a guide that will not lead us astray."

"Goodness, you're quite the philosopher too!"

He reached behind me with his arm and pulled me up against his side. I almost started crying with happiness, but held back my emotions for fear of scaring him away. I waited.

"I'd like to kiss you," he said, "But I've never kissed anyone before. If I'm awkward, will you forgive me?"

I was petrified he wouldn't like it, but nodded once.

He turned my face toward his, brought his lips to mine and then pulled me into the kiss. Our lips mashed against each other, his rough unshaven upper lip and chin feeling so coarse against me it took my breath away.

He pulled back immediately.

"Did I do something wrong," he asked?

I rubbed my chin. "You haven't shaved."

"Oh. Of course," he said starting to move away from me. "I'll be right back."

I grabbed his arm and pulled him back to me.

"You're not going anywhere," I giggled. "If a razor burn is the price I have to pay to kiss you, then I'll pay a thousand razor burns for that pleasure."

He looked at me and as the meaning of my words sank in, I saw in his eyes what I swear was a burst of the most intense flame. He lifted my face again and we kissed. We kissed. We kissed.

We kissed for several, I don't know years, months, weeks, days, hours or maybe it was only a few minutes, but a lifetime of desire was realized in those few minutes. I knew with certainty, Albert was no longer kissing me in an effort to figure out his sexuality, but rather, he was kissing me because he loved me. The final bond between us was instant and unbreakable.

I took his hand and put it on my breast.

"So firm," he said as he began to squeeze and rub it. "So beautiful..."

I shrugged my nightshirt off and let him look at me for a minute. It was the first time I had ever been naked in front of a man. It somehow felt exactly right, as if no other gesture could possibly express my love for him at that very moment and it was that very moment I knew my love was complete. All that was left was to join physically.

"I cannot think of anything more beautiful than a woman dressed only in her glory," he said. "The breast, the hips, the face, truly god had a model in paradise to work with and I think that model was you."

I was confused. I was the one smitten with his beauty, his soul, his knowledge and love of all things that grow, and here he was professing the exact same things I thought about him.

"It is you Albert, who is the philosopher, no, the poet. Your words are too kind. Your touch too gentle. I need to find my own words but I'm at a loss for what to say."

"You don't need to say anything. I hear your words when I look in your eyes."

In retrospect, our words may have seemed a bit childish, but they were our words and I will cherish them always.

In retrospect, our circumstance may have been more common throughout the world than either of us were aware as we were, at that moment, locked in our own delirious state, but it was our circumstance.

And lastly, in retrospect, when we began our slow, delicious segue into the world of carnal pleasure, the exquisite world of physical love, that moving from one way of knowing each other to the ultimate way of knowing each other, ended with our inevitable joining. It was, and could only be, ours and ours alone.

I stripped and watched as Albert undressed. His beautiful body now completely unveiled for the first time. His penis, his manhood, was every bit as lovely as the rest of him. I couldn't wait to taste him.

I took his hand and put to my crotch. I was warm, swollen and wet. I felt his finger part my lips and he gently rubbed my clitoris with his thumb. I was near a faint and pressed him harder to my groin.

"Keep it there for a minute," I told him.

"Why?"

"Because, the best way to know a living thing is to put your hands in the soil where it lives. The same holds for a woman as holds for a rose."

"You have learned your lessons well, my sweet. You are no longer my student, you are my equal."

I swooned.

As he rubbed me down there, I watched his penis grow until it looked as if it would burst. I reached out and touched it. It was hot, and at once soft and hard as stone. I pulled his hand away, bent over and took the head into my mouth. I'm not sure how I knew what would please him, but I somehow knew.

"I want," he said, "to be everything you hoped I would be, but I'm a little unsure of what to do next."

I sat up and laid back, opening my legs and placing the heels of my feet up against my butt. He rolled over me supporting his weight with his hands at the sides of my shoulders. I felt him brush up against my vulva and closed my eyes tightly. I knew this was going to hurt. He pushed.

It hurt more than I even feared it would hurt but I pulled him deeper into me, holding my breath, trying to fight through the pain that was causing me intense nausea.

After a few moments the pain began to abate. Albert was as still in me as a statue would have been. I know now, he was afraid that if he moved I would break. So I did the only thing I could think to do; I moved first.

There are two types of climaxes a person experiences when they make love; one is of the body and the other is of the soul. When Albert came, I too came, but not within my loins. No. It was a much more profound orgasm than one that originates down there. This one had its beginning when life first appeared in the universe and I knew, it would go on for as long as I had one more breath in my lungs. I was a woman now and I knew, with certainty, Albert was my man.

After he rolled off of me, I put my hands inside of my vagina and felt the warmth of his semen and my blood. I took my hand out and in some silly, ritualistic ceremony; I smeared his face and my own with the two fluids. It was childlike as a gesture, but it meant the world to us as we looked at each other, faces smeared with blood and semen, and then we kissed again. It was the most comfortable kiss I had ever imagined. It was slow to develop and it lingered in our psyche long after our lips parted.

Later, as we showered, I was too sore for intercourse again, so I took him into my mouth and brought him to climax, swallowing all he offered with little thought for anything other than keeping every last gift he could give me on that most beautiful of days.

As I think back now, these many years later, that Valentine's Day was the second greatest day of my life. The greatest day of my life, though bittersweet, was when our daughter was born nine months later. I named her Valentina in honor of the day upon which she was conceived.

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