*** I love feedback. If you like the story, please let me know. - This is a work of fiction, any resemblance with real people or names is purely a coincidence. - One last thing: I'm not an English native speaker. I think my English is pretty good, but I can make little mistakes here and there, so please bear with me. ***
We shared the same lift two or three times a week, sometimes only the two of us, sometimes together with other people: Amyway, I confess I didn't pay much attention to her at first, as she looked way too young and was clearly very shy, always wearing her headphones and answering my "good evening" with a barely audible voice.
When I say she appeared to be very young, I mean it: she was thin, with barely any breasts, and her head was about the same height of my chest, with her shoulder-length brown hair and complete absence of any make-up completing the looks of what I thought was a teenage girl...
After some time, however, I started to notice that every time we were alone in the lift, she glanced at me when I wasn't paying attention, looking away as soon as I turned my head in her direction. I thought initially that she was just curious, but for two or three times I was able to look back at her before she could look away and, judging by the way she blushed and tried to disguise her discomfort for being caught, I could say she was in fact checking me out. OK, I know I'm somewhat handsome, especially in a suit like I go to work every day, but even so it surprised me that a girl apparently so young and somewhat pretty could be paying attention to a 40-something guy like me.
Until this point, however, I was only amused by the apparent teenage infatuation I was causing, never giving her any reason to think I was interested in her. In fact, I really wasn't, as she seemed too young. But everything changed purely by chance.
About six months after I met her for the first time, I was getting home and, as in so many times before, she was waiting for the lift. This time, though, she looked completely different: she was wearing business-like clothing and had her face very well made-up, looking not only older than before but much, much prettier, even with her thin, teenage-looking body. The very small breasts were poking gently through the white blouse she was wearing, albeit partially covered under a sober brown jacket, and her thin legs were now clearly visible inside the thighs and knee-height business skirt that completed her look. To make the picture whole, she was standing over high-heels shoes that made her not only taller but really, really sexy.
As soon as I entered the hall, trying to not check her out too ostensibly, I said my usual good evening and her face turned instantly red. What surprised me the most was that there were another person woman waiting for the lift, a woman in her late thirties, and judging by her appearance It was surely her mother. She answered me politely and then said to the girl:
"What happened, Julie?"
"Nothing, mom!"
She was clearly bothered by her mother's question, and the lady replied:
"Well, then answer my question, lady. I asked you how the interview for the internship went!"
"It went well... I guess."
The girl glanced at me as if she was bothered that I was listening to their conversation, but her mother ignored her and said:
"I hope they will call you back. It's important that you start to get some work experience as soon as possible, even with you being still in your first year of college! Companies today always ask for previous experience, even for an eighteen-year-old like you, as crazy as it seems."
Julie (now I knew her name) remained silent, and when seconds after that the lift opened its doors she got inside in a hurry, always looking down. Her mother sighed, amused by her manners, and followed her, with myself, as the gentleman I always try to be, being the last one to enter.
The short trip to my floor was completely silent, with everyone behaving like the norm dictates in a small enclosed space with unknown people: being quiet and not looking around. When the lift stopped, however, I made a point of looking directly to the girl before saying "goodbye", and as her mother replied she kept quiet, her cheeks so red I could see its color despite the make-up she was wearing.
***
From that day on, everything changed for me. Seeing the mix of woman and girl I saw on the lift, the shyness and girly behavior blended with the sexy clothes she was wearing, and now knowing she was eighteen, had an effect on me, an effect so strong that on that same night I had sex with my wife in a way I hadn't for a long time, to the point that she asked, laughing and after having a strong orgasm, what had happened with me. As I couldn't say I was thinking about our eighteen-year-old neighbor, I just kissed her and changed the subject...
Now being very interested on her, the next day I was anxious to get home and meet her again. Unfortunately, she wasn't in the hall, as she weren't the next three or four days after that. For the first time, an entire week passed and, to my disappointment, I didn't meet her even once.
The weekend came and was gone, Monday returned, work took my mind away from everything else and I forgot completely about her. At the end of that same Monday, as I was going towards the lift hall, I was completely absorbed answering a text on my phone when with the corner of my eyes I could see someone. As my eyes were looking down on my phone, I just glanced to the side and saw two small, pretty feet with perfectly red-painted nails inside high-heels shoes. I stopped writing immediately and, looking up, found Julie, this time in a pretty business-type dress and again with her face nicely made up, even prettier than the last time. As always, as soon as she saw me, however, she looked down, her face completely red, waiting for my good evening to mumble something back as she always did.
I was, however, not only surprised for finally finding her but liking very much what I was seeing, and even as I knew I was probably making a huge mistake, I couldn't help but lust after her. Trying to start a conversation, I asked:
"Hello there! It's Julie, isn't it?"
She waved her head up and down, clearly surprised by my question, but didn't say anything.
"So, you got the job? Well done!"
Her face became instantly of the same color of her nails, but she managed to say in a faint voice:
"Thank you..."
The lift's doors opened and making an exaggerated gesture I bowed and invited her to enter. Julie giggled, still looking down, entered the lift, with myself following her. As soon as we were inside, I asked her:
"Ninth floor, isn't it?"
"Y... Yes..."
Her shyness was driving me crazy and I wasn't thinking straight anymore, and as soon as I got out of the lift on my floor I turned back to her and said softly:
"I hope I see you tomorrow again, Julie. Have a good night."
My scale of reds couldn't describe the color of her face at this point, but before the doors closed I could see her beautiful smile.
***
That same day I knew I was fucked. I had never, ever cheated on my wife until then, but I knew that I was going to try to, as I needed to have Julie and her shyness to myself. It was crazy, I knew, and the number of things that could go wrong and fuck my life was enormous, but at that point my cock was speaking louder than my brain, and there was no way this would change until I had her.
From that day on, each day I could find her alone in the hall I tried to make conversation, but her shyness didn't change a bit. She barely answered me, but at least started to smile more and to even openly laugh with some jokes I made. On the other hand, when there were other people around, she always kept to herself, making me sure that she, too, knew not only what was happening, but that we needed to be discreet.
***
My efforts finally payed out after five or six weeks of patience, careful work and continuous flattering to get closer to her without spooking the little thing. It was a Friday, I remember, and I didn't expect to find her as I had left work later than usual, but to my surprise she was there, waiting for the lift, when I entered.
"Hey! Hello! Getting home late today, honey?"
I called her "honey", "sweet" and other names like that every time we were alone, and I knew she liked it. That day, however, she smiled and, for the first time, looked directly into the eyes before answering, her face as red as always:
"Hi, Mr. Mark..."
She immediately looked down again but hearing her say my name with her faint voice, name that I wasn't even aware that she knew as she never asked and I never told her, made me shiver with excitement. I took a deep breath and, trying to control myself and to not screw up this opportunity, said to her, looking around to be sure that no one else could hear me:
"Can I say something, Julie? You should look into people's eyes more. Your eyes are so, so beautiful..."
She put her hands together, clearly nervous, and giggled, thanking me shyly. I continued:
"Where do you work?"
She told me, her eyes down to the floor as always, and I gambled a little more: