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  • — Women Only —
    Straight Female / 53

    I went away to college never having been in a romantic relationship. All through college I never dated. Towards the end I met this girl, she is French. We got along great. She told me that she was going to do her master's degree in Paris at the Sorbonne. I thought what a great idea, I got my parent's blessing, applied and I got accepted. I moved to Paris and our friendship took off from there.

    We found out that we liked being together, in the bedroom sense. We had a great year, we went from pure novices to quite experienced, and although the times were different we were able to get around quite easily. We finished our degrees and I didn't have a work visa so I had to return home. Separation was hard, a goodbye kiss was not enough. Then the second blast, she sent me a letter letting me know that her family had persuaded her to marry a Psychiatrist friend of their family and she would always love me.

    Loneliness set in and I went into a deep depression. I had a broken heart, but I really couldn't tell anyone that my heart was broken by another girl. Not then. In my loneliness I met a man at work, divorced with children, but quite able to support me well and I married him and had my family.

    I am a widow now, and I went to Paris with a couple of friends of mine and while I was there I had to look up my college era friend. We had not communicated since that letter letting me know she was getting married. We met at this bistro for coffee. All these years, all this life, her sitting in front of me brought out all my feelings from so long ago. I broke down and cried. She moved over and held my hand kissed my cheek. Her husband is quite old now, he is 89. She has three kids of her own, all grown up like mine.

    We spent a couple of hours together, we went for a walk and tried to talk about small things. But in the end, when it was time for her to leave she tiptoed up to me and let me kiss her lips again. Mon cherie and we had to let go.

    I have a couple of pictures of those days in Paris so long ago, we weren't grandmothers then. I'm glad I saw her, we write now, what with all the easy communications. Her husband is not doing very well and he has mobility issues. She needs to spend her time with him now. I tell myself that we are just a couple of old grandmas with a past.

    #40384 — Comments (2) — Jun 4, 2018 at 8:44 AM — That's Juicy! (3) Remove This.
  • 1
    I know that feeling I'm 56 female named Kassandra text me 6013411649
    18 days ago
  • 2
    Nice story. I'm reminded of the old 1942 novel by Cornelia Otis Skinner,
    "Our Hearts Were Young and Gay."
    18 days ago




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