Mirabella - English Version

WARNING: English is NOT my first language - I have learned it in school and practiced it a lot in trading, but this is (even though pornographic) supposed to be literature.

So please bear with me, or, if not, just read something else.

I also need to mention that the story is true, depicting my personal memory.

All the names and/or places may have been changed, due to privacy reasons.

*****

I'm eighteen, going home from the high school, dressed in the uniform - dark blue coat and trousers, white shirt and tie, carrying a briefcase...

My looks and the fact that my uniform is not made of the "classical" fabric, plus the quite expensive Samsonite briefcase, do not let people guess that I'm only a high school eighteen years old guy...

I really cannot tell what happens to me, since, all of a sudden, I decide to deviate my journey towards the grocery market, which so happens to be, somewhat, close to my way home.

Honestly, I'm amazed of myself, since, normally, even if my parents would have asked me, I wouldn't have gone there...

Furthermore, being a guy, I cannot be pregnant, but, still, I feel the urge to have some pickles, near a portion of five poached eggs...

This involves that, if she sees me, I shall also have to face my mother's concern, since she's always jumping, desperate, when she sees me eating more than three eggs:

"Come on, child! Why don't you want to listen to reason and to what the doctors say?!?"

"But, mother, I won't be eating eggs until the next week! Satisfied?"

"This is you! Stubborn and your own body's enemy!"...

When we have this kind of conversations, I always remind her of the doctor who used to eat twenty poached eggs, all by himself, and who has lived until almost eighty...

Then, she has a problem, since she was the one who has told me this, some loooong time ago...

"That man was an exception, not the rule!"...

Anyway, usually, the conversation ends with my mother rushing towards the medicine cabinet, and bringing two pills of Essentiale and leaving them beside my plate:

"Make sure you take these"...

So, reaching the grocery market, I go towards the area where I know, from my mother, that the sellers are real peasants, not some merchants, buying the cheapest possible stuff, to make a better profit...

In fact, you can easily make the difference, since, when you look at the merchandise exposed by the merchants, they simply let you look, explaining that their merchandise is being the best that money can buy, while the real peasants are much less talkative, but, instead, they invite you to try it, at no charge...

Wearing a suit and a tie, plus a briefcase there, at the market, isn't the smartest thing to do...

Looking towards you like vultures, all the merchants start inviting you to come and buy their merchandise, insisting to find out what you are interested in, offering you various vegetables and fruits, and, finally, when they see that your steps are leading you towards the area of the real producers, the peasants, they start making comments, like that you are "cheap", that "you don't know what's good for you", that "you don't know that those peasants don't even wash their merchandise, when preparing it", and other sweet things that I cannot even bother to remember...

While I'm stoically receiving the "treat", reaching the targeted area, I can see two girls giggling, laughing, whispering at each other, and insistingly looking at me.

They are dressed in their high school uniforms, so that I can easily guess that we are the same age, with the difference that their uniforms show it...

One of them has something in her looks, provoking, I may say...

What the heck?!? I smile at them, then start looking for my pickles.

When I find the ones of the right dimensions, not longer than ten centimeters and not thicker than three, as my parents have taught me, ever since I have concluded that I looooove pickles, I ask if I can taste.

The old man offers me one in the peak of a fork, but I just grab it with my hand, and put it all in my mouth - not very elegant gestures - then start chewing it, with my lips sealed, not to waste any juice on my chin...

I probably have a funny face and attitude, since the two young sluts start laughing again...

I stop chewing, turn towards them, look them in the eye, then make a step towards them, as if I intend to run after them, and start chewing very fast and exaggerated, then just turn back in front of the old man, smiling, with my lips fully sealed, yet, but nodding...

I can clearly see the light of joy in the old man's eyes. He asks me:

"How much? A kilo?"...

Honestly, I was thinking to buy only a half of a kilo, but, looking at the deformed hands of the old man, thinking about how much he has been working all his life, enduring deprivations and stuff, I just nod.

The old man weighs my merchandise, tells me the price, I hand him a bank note, he gives me the change, meaning some bank notes and a few coins...

I take the bank notes, but leave the coins in his palm...

He takes a look towards the two chicks, then at me, and simply tells me:

"You are very young, sir, I can see...

Don't pay attention to those two! They may be wearing school uniforms, but they are whores...

I know it for a fact!"

I don't know why, but I'm not surprised, so that I just look in the old man's eyes, wink at him, then thank him for both, merchandise and info...

It seems that while I was awaiting for my merchandise to be weighed and to pay for it, the two chicks have probably finished shopping, so that now they are gone...

I forget the whole thing and get going home.

To my surprise, right in front of me, at less than thirty meters, there they are, undulating their tails - to be read asses - while they are walking in the same direction.

I continue walking, being decided to keep my distance - finally, whores or no whores, they are just two young girls, good looking, even in their uniforms, and... I simply cannot afford to start kicking girls asses...

What the heck? Let them be!

I'm sure that one of them has already observed that I am somewhat following them, and, from their gestures, I realize that they are making some comments, giggling, laughing...

At the first corner of the street, I'm supposed to go to the left, but, to my surprise, they turn towards the same direction.

When I reach the corner of the street, I can see them again, this time much, much closer, only about ten meters, speaking to a guy.

Shit! It's Jim!

Jim and I are neighbors, kind of, and we know each other ever since we were using the same swings in the park...

He's only one year younger than me, and, so it seems, he is always happy to see me, say hi, and just some small talk.

What can I do? I keep on walking!

Suddenly, Jim sees me, and, of course, salutes me, coming to me to shake hands.

I excuse myself cause we cannot shake hands, since one of my hands is carrying the briefcase, while the other is carrying the plastic bag with the pickles, at which, after weighing them, the old man has added some salted juice, to make sure that the pickles will stay juicy...

I'm very attentive with the plastic bag, since it's somewhat wet, and I don't want to ruin my trousers...

The girls are... Mirabella and Andrada, and they are studying at the same high school as Jim.

They are simply stunned, bewildered, overwhelmed.

They just stand there, on the sidewalk, like two geese, with their mouths literally opened...

I smile at all the three of them, than excuse myself, since I need to reach at home in a hurry, with the pickles.

This time I'm the one who has all the fun, remembering their faces when Jim has briefly introduced me as a neighbor and a friend, and being only one year older than him...

I enter the apartment, finding, of course, my mother in the kitchen, kiss her on her cheeks, telling her to stop smiling, since shortly afterwards she'll get mad at me...

"You know, the problem of the five eggs, instead of only three"...

This time, she simply refuses to make a fuss of it, but goes and brings the pills of Essentiale, plus my father, who has been informed about the pickles, so that he wants to taste them...

His "tasting" means around a quarter of a kilo, just as it also happens in my case...

I simply congratulate myself, in my mind, for not buying only a half of a kilo...

He congratulates me for my initiative, then, since he has to make a phone call, leaves the kitchen, while my mother is making sure that I have everything I need to prepare the eggs.

It's been years, by now, since I pretend to prepare the eggs all by myself, with nobody else's help...

At about half past six in the afternoon, I hear the door bell ringing, but, since I'm not expecting anybody, I sit, letting my parents deal with the matter.

Suddenly, I hear a knock at my rooms door - it's my mother, informing me that Jim is at the door, expecting me...

Obviously surprised, I go to the door.

This time I shake hands with Jim, but I don't invite him in, since, as I've mentioned, we aren't that close.

In very few words, he informs me that the girls are sorry, for real, for their behavior at the grocery market, and that they would like to apologize and get to know me better, inviting me at the nearby cafeteria - a place where, in spite of the communist regime, you can have a chocolate ice cream tasting even better than the one that you can get in Paris...

Their treat!

"Come on, man! You won't regret it!"

Remembering the old man's advice, plus my mood, since I don't really feel like going out, I try to find a solution to avoid all this...

"Jim, after all, they haven't really done, I don't know what fuss - and furthermore, they might have had fun, but it was only their fun, since, as I've clearly noticed, the rest of the people who have witnessed the whole thing, from their attitudes and faces, haven't had fun at all"...

Jim is literally desperate:

"Man! They are two chicks! We are two guys! I know for a fact that they are not nuns! Why waste such an opportunity?!?"

Then, hoping to be more convincing:

"I can tell you from the beginning - Mirabella has set her eyes on you! She's a one night stand available a hundred percent! And, who knows? You can even get some more!"

Honestly, I'm not impressed, and Jim senses it.

He adopts another strategy:

"Look, if you accept, and come with me, I may get the chance to reach into Andrada's pants.

If you refuse, I'm fucked!"...

"Well, man, if that is the case, I cannot leave you alone, like this, but... I want to make sure that you don't give them my address, and if, due to who knows what reason, I decide to leave, you don't start insisting that I should stay"...

Jim is enthusiast:

"Sure, man! Absolutely! No problem!"

I tell him to go to the cafeteria, let me grab some jeans and something, and, in a few minutes, I'll be there...

He leaves, I get dressed, then, exiting my block of flats, I see Jim, expecting me...

He briefly explains that he couldn't have told me, in front of my door, things that could be overheard, eventually by some neighbors, or my parents...

He tells me that the girls are exquisite cock suckers, professionals, and that weekly, or whenever they wish, they go to the church in the neighborhood, and suck the priests dicks, for money.

They always have money and they always are nicely dressed, a little bit whorish, of course...

Mirabella is highly trained at Karate, and, as long as she's taking her medication, she's OK.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"Well, she's... somewhat crazy... She even has a certificate that lets her have as many abortions as it takes - in fact, she's not aloud to have children"...

Well, people, at that moment, any normal man would have turned around and left.

I just stop walking, turn towards Jim, and ask him:

"Jim, do you realize what date you've arranged for me?!? A sicko?!?"

He probably realizes that he's spoken too much...

"It isn't as bas as it sounds! Really! We go at the same high school, and she's never got herself in any sick trouble - she's only kicked some boys asses! That's all! And not without a reason!"...

I cannot help, but start laughing:

"OK, Jim, let's go get my ass kicked!"

We enter the cafeteria, Jim shows me at their table, while the two of them, not like some real ladies, raise from the table to shake hands with us...

First, I shake hands with Andrada, but not business style - I bend a little and take her arm and kiss the back of her hand, French style - she blushes, flattered, and probably a few drops of urine have already spotted her panties.

Then, I apply the same procedure to Mirabella, but this one, after I'm kissing her hand, comes towards me and kisses me on both my cheeks, then brings her mouth close to my ear, and whispers:

"I'm really sorry! Please forgive me!"

We take our seats, then Andrada tells me, with a very soft voice, that they are both sorry for the incident, and that they would looove to make friends with me...

I simply say that, in fact, I am not upset at all, and, since they are the girls and we are the boys, and this clearly looks like a date, us, the boys, will pay for the treat...

I can read a sudden panic on Jim's face, but, after I hit his leg under the table, he somewhat recovers his smiling face...

Mirabella senses the situation regarding Jim - I can bet my life on it - and, smiling, says:

"OK, so be it, but... under the condition that after we finish here, we go to my place, and you let us, girls, serve you with some brandy"...

I look at Jim - he doesn't seem to have anything against it, so that I accept, but at the back of my mind, I'm quite alert - if this girl is crazy, under permanent treatment, how come she can afford to drink alcohol?!?

Then, I just say to myself: one step at a time, man, one step at a time...

We leave the cafeteria and I have the surprise to see that Mirabella is living real close.

The brandy, I don't really remember what, is for real, not a fake, and Mirabella, before sipping from her glass, first goes and takes a pill, than engorges it, sipping from the brandy...

Andrada starts explaining, in spite of the fact that nobody asked anything, that Mirabella has a certain condition, and that, if she drinks alcohol, she needs to double the dose of some medication.

Her comment makes us all become silent, but, very soon, Mirabella explains:

"If you call me crazy, I don't have the right to pretend that I'm insulted"...

She's smiling, while I ask if she's seeing some doctors, on a somewhat permanent basis, and she confirms, explaining that if the dosage isn't appropriate, she may get some excruciating headaches, and not only...

She then starts some music:

"Let's dance, shall we?"

She comes in front of the couch where I sit, takes my hands, guiding them, firmly, first on her boobs, letting me feel them, and only afterwards on her hips...

I cannot tell if she's trying to shock me, or what...

Occasionally, I look at Jim, who's almost drooling on Andrada, who is expertly moving her ass, hips, boobs, rubbing the front of Jim's body.

I cannot help, but get my mouth close to Mirabella's ear, and whisper:

" If she keeps on doing that to him, the poor guy will very soon have wet shorts"...

She looks into my eyes, with her dark brown eyes, smiles, then gets close to me, whispering:

"Unfortunately for Jim, Andrada's parents are at home, so that it seems that, apart from some eventual blow job in my bathroom, here, he simply has bad luck"...

I giggle:

"Why only a blow job?"

"Because Andrada simply hates to have sex in the bathroom - don't ask me why!"

Who knows what skeleton hides in Andrada's closet...

I keep my mouth shut.

Mirabella continues:

"Anyway, I shall have to tell Andrada to hurry, since I want to have you, and only you here"...

Now, imagine yourself at my age, full of energy, courage, lack of responsibility, maybe...

"Mirabella, what if we save the situation, both of us, together?"

"How come?"

"My parents are at home, also, but their policy is to give me complete independence.

We can leave these kids here, and go to my place. All night long!"

She's silent, a minute or so... then asks:

"Are you sure?"

I bend, kiss her neck, then whisper:

"Yes"

Mirabella simply stops dancing, stops the music, then goes towards the startled pair:

"Here, children, if I let you use my apartment, will you behave?

I mean, I don't want to find all this bottle of brandy emptied, when I come back, in the morning, I don't want stains on my carpet, or wherever else, and, generally, I want the place to look the same as I leave it.

Do we have a deal?"

Jim nods his head repeatedly, in a real stupid manner, at least from my point of view, while Andrada jumps and kisses her friend on her cheek.

On the way to my place, Mirabella explains to me how her father has run away from Romania a few years ago, how he has managed to make lots of money abroad, and how he has sent her money from there, to help her buy a small apartment, only for her.

She also tells me that, after she shall finish the faculty in Romania, she shall get started with the formalities to leave, officially, Romania, for good, and go to her father.

She has also explained to me that the financial compensation for the studies, that she'll have to pay if she leaves, is only ten thousand dollars, while abroad, this may not cover, as expenses, not even a single year of studies...

Well, folks, crazy she may be, but not THAT crazy!...

After we reach my place, I ask her if she can afford to drink some whiskey, without risking any complications.

She agrees, so that I bring a bottle, glasses, and start some ambient music, then sit...

I haven't mentioned that she's got a beautiful, very dark hair, contrasting with her white skin, especially in the dim lights that I have arranged in my room.

After she finishes her glass, she comes in front of my chair, takes me by the arms, making me stand, then, smiling at me, starts unbuttoning my shirt.

I try to do the same thing to her blouse, but she refuses:

"No, please, just bare with me, let me be in total control"...

Well, at least, I manage to unbutton my sleeves, fact that doesn't seem to bother her.

She takes off my shirt, with a very little help from my side, then she kneels, and takes off my shoes.

Her following move, is to unbuckle my belt, then works at the button of my jeans, then the zipper...

She drags them down to my ankles, so that all I have to do is raise a little my feet, one at a time, and let her take off my jeans.

With my shorts, we follow the same procedure, and, here I am, with my throbbing dick pointing at her.

She looks at it, gives it a kiss, then, gently, pushes me back on the arm chair.

"Don't move, please, and... don't stroke it. Don't even touch it! Please!"

She then moves towards her arm chair, and starts taking off her clothes - it's not strip tease, or something, she's just getting undressed, as if she is at home, alone.

She piles her things, neatly, then she approaches, and takes mine, doing the same...

All she has done, from the moment she has kissed my dick, until now, didn't take her more than two minutes.

She is now back in front of me, knelt between my legs, leaning her arms on my knees, while she bends and starts licking my dick a little, then starts engulfing it.

My brain is focused on a single idea, to ask her how satisfied is the priest, or the priests of her ministrations, but, even if I may be young and stupid, I'm not THAT stupid...

After the head of my dick reaches her throat, she presses a little there, then slowly, but really slowly, starts taking my dick out of her mouth.