I started my first year at the university studying bachelor of fine arts. It was then when I first saw him, he was perfect.
He looked at me with gentleness and warmth as if he's willing to push himself in front of the train to protect me,
He understood me and looked through my soul. All the girls fancied him yet he only saw me.
For the next 11 months we became very close seeing that he was my arts teacher where he praised my paintings, worshipped each brush stroke I created. I adored him, he was perfect.
He had the same honey eyes I did, same brown hair. It's like he's my soulmate except he's 40 and I'm 18. He's gorgeous.
I touch myself every night and think about him, it's almost like he's inside me. I touch myself using the paintbrush his hand touched and it's amazing,
On the 12th month he wanted to meet me, he wanted to tell me something, I dressed up in a seductive outfit hoping we make sweet love at the end of the night. There I saw him.
He sat across me and showed me a photograph with that crashed my world. "I took that art teacher job to get close to you.
Your mother took you away and all I want is to get close to my long lost daughter."
Edit: guys thanks for all the nice feedback, also please check my other stories. Thank you so much.