It was now two weeks since the night that changed how Adam looked at Gisela, her father’s new girlfriend (Read: Gisela, My fathers new girlfriend)
Adam sneaked up when he heard the door close and came up to find a note, meant more for his father, who was out shopping and coming home soon.
Adam left quickly; he did not really know how to handle the situation. But for the last weeks, nothing else had been on his mind. Her words, “We can figure things out as we go along,” had made him hop, even if he knew it was not right. But…
Adam’s dad sent him a message yesterday and asked if he wanted to come over for some food and stay over. “Gisela said it was so nice to share a little wine and only talk,” were the words Gisela used to talk to his father.
Adam’s heart raced as he read his father’s text message. His fingers hovered over the phone screen, uncertain how to respond. Every rational thought told him to make an excuse, to avoid the situation entirely. Yet something deeper, something primal, urged him to accept.
“Sure, sounds nice. What time?” he finally typed, his thumb pressing send before he could reconsider.
The drive to his father’s house that evening felt too long and too short. Adam’s mind repeatedly replayed that night with Gisela – her touch, taste, and whispered words. He’d tried to distract himself these past two weeks, throwing himself into work and going out with friends, but nothing could erase the memory of her silk lingerie and knowing smile.
“Adam,” she said warmly, as if nothing had happened between them. “Come in. Your father’s just getting changed for work.”
Their eyes met briefly, and Adam detected something there – a flicker of recognition, of shared secrecy. But her manner remained perfectly appropriate, offering a quick hug that any stepmother-to-be might give.
“How have you been?” she asked, leading him into the kitchen where the smell of roasting meat filled the air. Adam struggled to keep his voice steady. “Good… busy with work and stuff.”
Gisela nodded, her back to him as she checked something in the oven. “That’s nice,” she said casually. “I’ve been busy too. Your father mentioned you might stay over tonight?”
Before Adam could answer, his father appeared in the doorway. “Adam! Good to see you, son.” They embraced briefly, and Adam felt a stab of guilt in his chest.
Throughout dinner, Adam struggled to maintain normal conversation. His father talked about work while Gisela served the food, occasionally brushing against Adam’s shoulder as she reached across the table. Each touch felt deliberate, electric.
“Well, I’d better head off,” his father announced, glancing at his watch. “Night shift again. You two enjoy your wine and chat.” He kissed Gisela goodbye, and Adam felt his stomach twist with guilt. His father clapped him on the shoulder. “Good to have you over, son. Don’t let her drink all the wine!”
An awkward silence filled the room after the door closed behind his father. Adam stared at his plate, suddenly finding the remnants of his dinner fascinating.
“I’ll clear these,” Gisela said finally, standing to gather the dishes.
Adam jumped up. “Let me help.”
They worked silently, the clink of plates and silverware the only sound between them. Their hands brushed as Adam passed her a glass, and he jerked back as if burned.
Gisela sighed, placing the dish towel on the counter. “Adam, we should talk about what happened.”
He leaned against the counter, crossing his arms defensively. “I’ve been thinking about it. A lot, actually.”
“Me too,” she admitted, her voice soft. She moved closer, stopping just short of touching him. “I tried to put it out of my mind, but I couldn’t.”
Adam swallowed hard. “This is wrong. He’s my father.”
“I know.” Gisela reached up, adjusting her glasses in that way he now found endearing. “And I care for your father, I truly do. But there’s something between us, Adam. Something I can’t ignore.”
The kitchen suddenly felt too small, too warm. Adam could smell her perfume, the same intoxicating scent from that night.
“Maybe I should go,” he said, but made no move toward the door.
Gisela stepped closer, her eyes never leaving his. “Is that what you really want?”
His resolve crumbled as she placed a hand on his chest. He could feel his heartbeat beneath her palm. Without thinking, he reached up and covered her hand with his own.
“No,” he admitted, his voice barely audible. “It’s not what I want.”
The tension between them snapped like a taut wire. His mouth found hers, hungry and desperate. Her hands tangled in his hair as he lifted her onto the kitchen counter, stepping between her parted legs. The dishes lay forgotten as they clung to each other, weeks of pent-up desire flowing through their touches.
“Not here,” Gisela gasped, breaking away.
She took his hand and led him upstairs, not to the guest room where he’d stayed before, but to the master bedroom. Adam hesitated at the threshold.
“Are you sure?” he asked, eyeing the bed his father shared with her.
Gisela’s expression softened, understanding his hesitation. “You’re right,” she said, turning away from the master bedroom. “Let’s go to your room instead.”
The guest room felt safer somehow, neutral territory. As soon as the door closed behind them, Gisela pressed Adam against it, her lips finding his with renewed urgency. Her glasses fogged slightly from their shared heat, and she removed them, placing them carefully on the nightstand.
“I’ve thought about you every day,” she whispered against his neck. “Every night when your father sleeps beside me.”
The confession should have bothered him more than it did. Instead, it sent a thrill through Adam’s body. His hands found the hem of her blouse, slowly lifting it over her head. Underneath, she wore a lacy black bra contrasting beautifully with her pale skin.
“You’re so beautiful,” Adam whispered, his voice thick with desire. Gisela smiled, a hint of vulnerability crossing her face as she reached for his shirt buttons.
“I wasn’t sure you’d come back,” she admitted, her fingers working deftly down his chest. “After you left so quickly that morning…”
“I was confused,” Adam said, helping her slide the shirt from his shoulders. “Guilty. But I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Their clothes fell away piece by piece, until they stood before each other naked, the moonlight casting silver shadows across their bodies. Adam took in the sight of her—the curve of her breasts, the softness of her stomach, the delicate lines of her hips. Without her glasses, Gisela looked somehow more vulnerable, her eyes wide and searching.
“We shouldn’t do this,” he said, even as he pulled her closer.
“I know,” she replied, her voice barely above a whisper. “But I need this. I need you.”
Those words broke something inside me. I lifted her onto the bed, our bodies entwining as we fell against the sheets. This time was different from before—less tentative, more desperate. My hands explored every inch of her body, committing each curve and contour to memory.
Gisela arched beneath me as I trailed kisses down her neck, across her collarbone, and between her breasts. Her fingers dug into my shoulders, urging me on. When my mouth found her nipple, she gasped, her back lifting off the mattress.
“Adam,” she breathed, her voice catching as I swirled my tongue around the hardened peak. The sound of my name on her lips sent a surge of desire through me, erasing any lingering doubts.
I continued my journey downward, kissing a path across her stomach, feeling her muscles tense beneath my lips. Her hands tangled in my hair as I settled between her thighs, looking up to meet her gaze. The vulnerability and need I saw there nearly undid me.
Unlike our first encounter, there was no hesitation now. I tasted her deeply, savouring her response as she writhed against me. Her thighs trembled on either side of my head, her breathing growing more ragged with each stroke of my tongue.
I found the spot and almost immediately started shaking. “Right there,” she gasped, her fingers tightening in my hair. “Don’t stop.”
I maintained my rhythm, circling her most sensitive spot with increasing pressure. Gisela’s hips began to move in counterpoint to my ministrations, seeking more contact. I slipped one finger inside her, then another, curling them upward as my tongue continued its relentless pace.
Her breathing became erratic, punctuated by soft moans she tried to muffle with her hand. The thought that we were alone in the house, that my father was miles away at work, made everything feel both forbidden and inevitable.
“I’m close,” she whispered, her voice strained. “Please stop, not yet, let me first taste you.”
Adam stopped and started to crawl beside her. But Gisela took his hand and gently pulled him, so he straddled her chest so his cock was now only inches from Gisela’s mouth.
I gazed down at Gisela, her hair splayed across the pillow, her eyes heavy with desire as she looked up at me. Without breaking eye contact, she wrapped her fingers around my shaft, guiding me toward her waiting lips. The first touch of her warm, wet mouth around me nearly made my knees buckle.
“God,” I groaned, bracing myself with one hand against the headboard.
Gisela hummed in satisfaction as she took me deeper, her tongue working expertly along the underside of my cock. Her free hand caressed my thigh, then moved to cup and massage my balls. The dual sensation was overwhelming, and I had to fight to maintain control.
She released me with a soft pop, a string of saliva connecting us momentarily. “I’ve been thinking about this for two weeks,” she whispered, placing delicate kisses along my length. “Wondering if I would ever feel you like this again.”
Her confession sent a fresh wave of desire through me. I gently pulled back, not wanting to finish too soon. Gisela understood without words, shifting beneath me as I moved down her body again. Our lips met in a passionate kiss, and I could taste myself on her tongue.
“I want you inside me,” she whispered against my mouth. “Please, Adam.”
I positioned myself between her thighs, the tip of my cock brushing against her wetness. Despite our urgency, I paused, searching her eyes for any sign of hesitation. What I found instead was pure need, mirroring my own.
Slowly, I pushed forward, watching her face as I entered her. Gisela’s lips parted in a silent gasp, her eyes fluttering closed as I filled her completely. For a moment, we remained perfectly still, connected in the most intimate way possible, savouring the feeling of our bodies joined together.
Then I began to move, slowly at first, drawing almost entirely out before pushing back in. Gisela’s hands roamed across my back, her nails occasionally digging into my skin when I hit particularly sensitive spots inside her.
“You feel amazing,” I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. The guilt that had plagued me for two weeks seemed distant now, overwhelmed by the intensity of our connection.
Gisela wrapped her legs around my waist, changing the angle and allowing me to penetrate even deeper. She moaned softly, her head tilting back to expose the elegant line of her throat. I couldn’t resist leaning down to place kisses there, tasting the salt of her skin.
“Harder,” she urged, her voice barely audible. “Please, Adam.”
I complied, increasing my pace and driving into her with newfound intensity. The bed creaked beneath us, a rhythmic accompaniment to our laboured breathing and muffled moans. Gisela’s fingers tangled in my hair, pulling me down for a desperate kiss that swallowed her cry of pleasure as I thrust deeper.
“Yes,” she gasped against my lips. “Just like that.”
Her body responded to my every movement, arching and tensing as I found the perfect rhythm. I could feel her inner walls beginning to tighten around me, her breathing becoming more erratic with each thrust. That I bring her such pleasure was intoxicating.
“I’m close,” she whispered, her voice strained. “So close…”
Gisela put her hand between us and started massaging herself, while I fucked her more and more frantically.
I felt Gisela’s body tense beneath me as her fingers worked in circular motions. Her inner walls clenched around me rhythmically as she approached her climax. The knowing of her pleasuring herself while I continued to thrust deeply inside her pushed me closer to the edge.
“Adam,” she moaned, her voice breaking as waves of pleasure began to wash over her, then she screamed, “I’m coming!”
Her back arched dramatically off the bed as her orgasm hit. Her free hand clutched at the sheets, knuckles white with tension. I maintained my pace, driving into her as she shuddered and gasped beneath me. The feeling of her pulsing around me was exquisite torture, bringing me right to the brink.
“Gisela,” I panted, feeling my control slipping. “I can’t hold back much longer.” And started to pull me out of her.
Her eyes, still hazy with pleasure, locked onto mine. “Don’t,” she whispered. “I want you to come inside me.”
Those words broke my last thread of restraint. With a few final, desperate thrusts, I surrendered to my release, burying myself deep inside her as waves of pleasure crashed through my body. Gisela held me tightly, her legs wrapped around my waist, keeping me inside her as I pulsed and shuddered.
For several long moments, we remained entwined, our breathing gradually slowing. I could feel her heart beating against my chest, our bodies slick with sweat. When I finally rolled to the side, Gisela curled against me, her head resting on my shoulder.
The silence between us was comfortable now, nothing like the awkward tension of earlier. Gisela traced lazy patterns on my chest with her fingertip, occasionally pressing soft kisses to my shoulder. The guilt I’d expected to feel was strangely absent, replaced by a contentment radiating from every pore.
“What are we doing?” I finally asked, my voice gentle in the darkness.
Gisela sighed, her breath warm against my skin. “Something we probably shouldn’t be,” she admitted. “But something I can’t bring myself to regret.”
I turned to face her, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Without her glasses, she looked younger, more vulnerable. “Me neither. But where does this leave us? Where does it leave him?”
She was quiet for a long moment, her eyes searching mine in the moonlight. “I don’t know,” she said honestly.
This was the last time i spooked to Gisela direct. Two days after I got I message from my father “Me and Gisela have broke up, and she have moved out” I was shocked, did my father know, and answer his message “sorry to hear that, I liked Gisela”. The short response was only “It was not meant to be” My father and I have never talked about it, and sometimes I get the feeling that he knows, which was the reason for the breakup.
I tried to call Gisela for days without success, and on the fourth day, I got an answer machine saying, “This number is disconnected.”
Till today I still dont know where she is, and I often think about her.
