How to solve a problem like Elena? [FF] [Part 1]

In reality the reason that I started posting on GWS is to write about her, but was building up to it. Now fair warning this is going to be a long one broken into a few parts, some of this might be biased because I was, and probably still am in love with this girl. Apologies in advance but this doesn’t have much in the way of sexiness, though that will come. I felt the need to set the scene more than I usually would.

People often say that someone is the love of their life, I’m 26 I don’t know if she’s the love of my life or soulmate or any other thing that I’m not convinced I believe in. What I do know is she’s one of the great loves of my life. This takes place about two years ago, slightly longer as she began working at the hotel I’d been at for a couple of years in the late spring of that year.

I always switch names for people in my story, finding one that fit her was an ordeal in itself. I landed on Elena. The day I first saw her I was hunched over a chopping board prepping some vegetables, they were bringing a bunch of new hires from Romania who’d be working for a few months on a kind of work placement. I looked up briefly at the movement and the noise. I met her gaze and nearly chopped off my finger. She’s got these eyes. Any attempt to even describe them will fall so short, it’s crazy. Shockingly pale blue, so piercing that they cut right through you and make your breath catch in your throat. Slightly darker around the edge of the iris, and constantly catching the light like some bullshit snapchat filter. Always alive with joy and laughter.

As they walked through the kitchen I took in the rest of her. Straight silken hair falling down her back, so light brown it’s almost auburn. As often loose as it was braided and draped over her shoulder. Her nose lightly upturned and a mouth with full lips so often smiling and grinning. Her face was full, unlike the pointed look many of her friends had with lightly pink cheeks and dimples that made her seem far more innocent than she was. A little taller than me and with a little smaller but still impressive bust. She wore the shirt, tie and waistcoat of her uniform well, it showing off her narrow waist. Her work trousers however were scandalously tight, her ass huge on such a small frame, I remember that they were the only length that fit and after the first few days she had new ones, however they are still etched on my mind as I’m sure they are for any customers that saw her too.

I don’t believe in love at first sight. I think that love is far too complex to be based entirely on appearance. What I do believe is that sometimes you see someone that strikes you. That heart pounding, breath catching ache that someone can cause you. Their gaze turns you into an idiot and dries your mouth. She did this for me.

They were all introduced to the kitchen team and honestly at that point I couldn’t tell you a single one of their names or what they looked like. Only hers. She seemed so nervous and shy despite her perfect English. However watching her talk to her friends in her own language she was confident, animated and apparently funny. At only 21 she looked younger and acted older. They all rented a house that was far too small for any of them and in the middle of nowhere, much like my cottage. Feeling sorry for them I offered to be their taxi when they needed it.

Due to this I became friends with most of them, though a few of them didn’t like me too much. However Elena was one of the ones I got on well with, some people may understand this others won’t. Sometimes you find someone that you connect with easily, you understand that person, can make them laugh easily and it seems like you’ve known them forever. That was how we were, it was just effortless and easy. At first there was nothing sexual there. I found her attractive but I was sure she was straight, and innocent to all of that side of things. I mean she was no virgin but unlike me she had only relationships. To a degree even if she was gay or bi I didn’t think she’d be interested in me.

One day when it was her turn to shop for her group she asked me for a lift, this was early on in their stay a few weeks after we’d met. I’d done some of my own shopping too and we were shoving the bags into the back of my small car giggling as we struggled. She was wearing a yellow sundress that fell to her knees and unlike my usual scruffy self she looked like a real beauty, effortlessly. After I forced the boot closed and we lent against the car catching our breath it was then I saw her properly. The sunshine softly reflecting off and through her hair, her eyes crinkled with laughter. You have those moments in life that are just with you forever. In that moment everything was right. I stepped close to her and smelt her flowery perfume, lavender and wildflowers, mixed her own indescribable scent. My hand touches her waist and the ever so slightly course cotton under my fingers is warmed by her body and the sun. My other hand moved unbidden to her neck, finally feeling her unbelievably soft hair as I hold it gently against her neck pulling her closer. I press my lips to hers. In that moment the soft, wetness of her lips against my own is one of the singular most erotic experiences of my life.

A moment passes and her mouth opens kissing me back and my heart leaps in my chest both her hands reach up and rest just above my breasts almost on my collarbone and she must feel how my heart is thundering in my chest. Her tongue meets mine and I pull her tighter to me tasting her and wondering if my heart might explode. Then her hands gently push me away and I open my eyes to her flushed face and puffy lips, she steps back and catches her breath “Natasha.” She says softly possibly for the first time using my whole name “I am not gay.” She doesn’t say it unkindly or with disgust about what happened but still my stomach fell out my arse and I stammered and choked out an apology before driving her home.

I helped her unpack her shopping before driving back to mine, tossing what I needed to in the fridge and curling up embarrassed on my bed. It wasn’t that I hadn’t been rejected before but somehow this hurt more. It shouldn’t have, there’s no logical reason it should have. It fucking hurt though.

Tash.

P.S. I realise that this isn’t like my previous stories, it will get less depressing. Apologies.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/93es8q/how_to_solve_a_problem_like_elena_ff_part_1