My Sir: A Girl's Confession

By Luna Theobroma

My Sir: A Girl’s Confession
A recently graduated bright, young, simple man begins his career taking up his debut English teaching position at a girls’ high school. Falling in love at first sight, one of his students makes various advances to win his heart.
When they decide to marry, her parents interfere and bar their marriage for their devotional differences. Not having a diplomatic solution, finally they decide to tie the knot secretly against her parents’ wish. When wed, they live happily in their own romantic nest away from the parents.
Now happy, the young husband establishes to a comfortable married life. In addition to his regular job of teaching, he focuses on writing books, publishing, and presenting papers. His teenage wife begins associating her adolescent girl-friends.
Obsessed with grappling games, she enriches her serene life furtively in the company of invited girls. Doing so, practically she indulges her repressed desires with rough-and-tumble, erotic wrestling games. Doing so,she develops a strong sexual relationship culminating in true sapphism.
After few years of marriage, his beloved wife becomes a mother of a baby boy. The young teacher’s hard work, publications and honesty take him up the ladder to become an administrator of the same school where he began his debut career and their romance.
Twenty years after their marriage, they go back in time to find their career success, happy marriage, child’s growth, and his secondary education. Ultimately, despite her parents’ objection, both having committed to an eternal romance, they reach their goals conveniently.
She confesses her own experience, so, the narrative is written from the female perspective—basically seeing sexual experience from a woman’s point of view. Occasional foreign flair(Italian) included with English translation.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Luna Theobroma
• Release date: May 27, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463103265

Luna Theobroma

Luna completed her catholic schooling in Bosa and then she graduated from University of Sassari, Sardinia. Even in her school days she had the passion for writing. Once moved from Sardinia to Italy, she established herself working in education and writing seriously. She works in a private school and has established in Milan.

Book preview

My Sir: A Girl’s Confession

by

Luna Theobroma

Published by Luna Theobroma at Smashwords

Copyright 2019 Luna Theobroma

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to your favorite ebook retailer and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Dedication

Dedicated to my beloved husband and to my wonderful child who gave me endless contentment sharing everything while wandering in this beautiful world of ours

Table of Contents

Introduction

Chapter 1 Love at First Sight

Chapter 2 The Way It All Began

Chapter 3 The Fake Field Trip

Chapter 4 Invitations and Visitations

Chapter 5 End of Studies and Marriage

Chapter 6 Settling to Matrimony

Chapter 7 Exciting Times

Chapter 8 Fun-filled School Holidays

Chapter 9 Major Family Changes

Chapter 10 Happy Motherhood

Chapter 11 Twenty Years On

Epilogue

Introduction

As part of the Roman Empire, over many centuries, we’ve preserved our ancient traditions and cultural instincts. But today, we are independent from the modern-day Italy and a sparsely-populated neighborhood island, Sardinia. Yet, we still practice what we have gained from the Romans then. Having such ancestry, those ancient customs have handed down to the present day society too. So following them strictly, at a prominent location of the house, we have a shrine room. In front of a row of graven figures we pray many times a day. That is our faith.

In the early 1970s, ending my parent’s lengthy infertility frustration, Lord blessed them with a gorgeous little infant. Now enthralled, seen their miracle baby as captivating as the moon, they named her, Luna. Entrapped in their inherited background, they brought me up with their taboos, inhibitions, and religious practices of the old school. With that, practically I grew up wearing a religious ‘chastity belt’ around my waist.

Our house in Bosa is a paradise for everyone: my mother, my father, and of course, the only child, Luna Ridolfi. The minions living with us took care of me giving the great company that I needed desperately.

I made up fairy tales and deeply indulged in an imaginary world of my own; a wonderland with my vivid imagination. Not having siblings to associate with, very especially in my puberty years, I developed very many obsessions that I pamper in my own dream-world.

Since my parents met at the church in their young years, they are still attracted romantically. But recently when my father acquired a farm at a distant location, having no choice, he moved to live and manage it free of managers’ foul play and corruption. It also brings a lucrative income to our family. That led my mother and I to be home most of the time.

From my first memory, we lived in my mother’s inherited house. It’s a true piece of Italian architecture: a two-story house snuggled among giant oaks, junipers, and other native trees. Also, well-manicured garden filled with oleanders, roses and colorful flower beds beautified our dwelling and the surrounds. Living in luxury, I matured to be a blossoming young teenage girl. Now, I am in my active, late teen years looking forward to leaving my high school by sitting the final exams.

My lover, Antony, originated from an affluent family in the hilly area of the island, Monti. He is a sober, health fanatic, and a bright scholar with an honors degree and post-graduate qualifications. Yet, with his simplicity and humbleness, rather than employed in a high-tech profession, he decided to take up a simple teaching position. He is more interested in teaching, writing and presenting papers, giving a service to the community. Unfortunately, his religious background became a barrier to his romance with his scholar, the prude, lonesome girl, Luna.

****

Chapter One

Love at First Sight

Matrimoni celebrati in cielo.

Marriages are made in heaven, they say. But disparate to the universal acceptance, my affair was a nightmare from the very beginning. Having gone through severe strain in my relationship, I still wonder mine was made in heaven or hell. No matter what I think, my parents believed that it wouldn’t be a suitable match. They made it utterly complicated by disapproving and barring the connection with my teacher-lover. As a result, since I began my romance, I had an incredible struggle all through to the very end. Finally, having no choice, I decided to leave my parents and our natural home to live with my lovely teacher.

To escape from them, I intended to transfer the entire lot of my belongings to the new home. Unable to handle it myself, I sought invaluable help and company from my trustworthy school friend, Kara. Whispering to each other of my problematic romance, nervously, we began juggling with bags and boxes in my cluttered room upstairs. Amidst it, suddenly my father called me loud to the lounge. Expecting trouble, my heart began hammering in my throat.

Jesus Christ! In big trouble, highly excited, I hissed to Kara, looking to her dark-brown eyes, hey, come…save me, in case.

Okay, no worries. She leapt to her feet from the bed.

So, taking Kara for my protection, together we hurried down the long flight of steps; my summer skirt flapping in the air and our long-black hair flying disorderly.

He was slumped comfortably in his habitual recliner in a corner of the enormous lounge.The folded newspaper sat on his lap and a reading lamp illuminated brightly behind him. His face dark with emotions and his smoldering pipe clenched between his teeth. With his fury, he was puffing more briskly than his regular. Together we stood humbly in front of him, but in fright of his aggression, we kept a distant from his chair. He fixed me with piercing gaze nastily. Seeing his angry facial expression and the hard eyes, my fear worsened.

He puffed out a smoke and began his emotional conversation.

Listen, we can’t let you marry him…stop it at this stage. Never forget your background…your faith…your future…. perhaps one day it will affect your children. I warn you now, think before you leap, hmm. The force of his words spoken was with such power, instantly I began to shiver with a mixed feeling of fear and anger. Yet, I wanted to verbally rebuke him for my common rights.

"No papa. No way. Amore a prima vista. It’s love at first sight. I have all the rights to select my life partner, and I am in the right age." I disputed, gesturing rapidly.

"Nonsense! Amore a prima vista! Nonsense."

Papa, no soul can stop our romance…I strongly believe in true love.

True love? For how long? He protested sarcastically, exhaling a heavy puff.

Until death of one of us…or could be even after…

Don’t do things to regret one day, he ranted, looking to my tear-brimmed eyes.

Furious, my shivering worsened for his words against my romance. My face now turned crimson, arms began moving rapidly, and my lips trembled from emotions, yet, I asked, Why should I regret? Papa, you will regret one day for your own decisions.

Listen you silly girl…trying to guide you in the right direction. With his rage, he expressed in his deep voice, with greatest dignity and looking directly into my excited eyes.

Papa, I am going in the right direction, I retorted fuming. See, you have one and only daughter… this unhappy girl, Luna. You will regret one day to hear your child happily married and enjoys caring your playful grandchildren.

By marrying him, you will disgrace us…give us shame…in our eyes you are dead, he boomed, sitting up from his relaxed position. Seeing his hostility, realizing my danger, in case of his physical abuse, Kara now alert, held onto my body protecting me.

No matter what you think—or what you feel, I am happy to take his hand to continue my life. I began weeping noisily. Yet through my tears, I went on, Papa, I am telling you now, it’s the final…and the final, definitely I’ll marry him. Remember papa, no doubt, our All Mighty Lord will bless this innocent girl, Luna. I pray Him day and night with all my faith.

Oh, I see. He admitted it reluctantly, possibly for my crying and for my strong faith in the Lord.

A different expression darted over his face. He relaxed back in the chair and turned his head down, as if he lost the verbal wrestling. Seeing his calmness, tears rolling down my blushed cheeks, I relaxed myself too. We both stayed silent for a moment. Kara, expecting his flaring up, still clung onto me cautiously.

Then I pleaded in my low and calm voice, dabbing at my eyes, looking to his grim face, Papa, please let me pack my things peacefully to leave home.

Leaving home? Are you crazy? he bawled, turning his head up and looking fiercely into me again. Practically, his calmness disappeared altogether.

Yes, he is waiting for me with his open arms.

We can’t let you go and live together like that…stop it…stop it.

Why not? Why not, Papa? I am madly in love. Papa, if my mother could do in 1960s, why can’t I in 1990s? Have mercy on your daughter. My stabbing words on his own romance truly escalated the simmering situation.

"VA’ VIA!, VATTENE!," finally, showing me his grimaced face, he roared at me to get lost, to go away. His thundering words echoed through the vast lounge and in my heart for years to come. I felt relieved to a degree that we ended our firework-like verbal battle.

Still trembling in fear, Kara and I drifted back silently to the jungle of jumble upstairs to continue our packing.

Yes, my romance I began feeling love at first sight—truly, love at first sight, as it occurred when going through the final lap of my studies in high school. The beginning of my relationship was a sensational turning point in my young life, and it would’ve been a lot better without my parents’ objection. Unbelievably, now they oppose my relationship, but quarter-century ago they followed the same, which I heard from my aunt, Isabella.

According to Isabella, my mother was the prettiest girl at the church—in the whole town of Bosa. She participated actively in church services regularly. Young men swarmed to the cathedral to listen to her angelic voice of singing while admiring her stunning body. My father was an equally handsome youth too. Their dark-brown eyes greeted romantically, when he served at the altar. They met often during the Sunday services for a word or two, and finally fell in love. Out of all young men, my father became the luckiest person. After few years, they ended up marrying at the same church where they launched their romance. That was a generation ago.

Similarly, in the next generation, there began a wonderful relationship between Tony and Luna. My great memories of it still linger, as if watching a movie. Yes, the way I instigated our romance. Simply, the way it all began.

****

Chapter Two

The Way It All Began

The vivid little town, Bosa, stands in pride in a corner of the scenic little Mediterranean island, Sardinia. Enhancing its beauty, Temo River traverses serenely through the settlement, sustaining it a heavenly place. Our girls’ school in such lively location had been a paradise for us students. Establishing the ancient Roman religious adherence of the collage, the ornamentation of our classroom gave the impression of a cathedral. The antique holy figures displayed on the surrounding walls deepened the divine appearance. Even the bookshelf next to my desk, laden with leather-bound and gold-lettered, elderly books added godly atmosphere.

We spent many cheerful years in learning, laughing, playing, praying, singing, and regular confessing. But sadly, very soon, we’ll have to say goodbye to our school.

I distinctly remember, it was a glorious summer’s day morning. Boring me to the core, our lady-teacher took the lesson on my odd subject, history. However, when the bell rang, giving us a respite, she left the classroom. Now happy, I breathed a sigh of relief and slipped out of the classroom to take a brief break. I stretched my legs, respired fresh air, sipped my drink, and now refreshed, returned readily to begin the next session. Passing few rows of oaken tables, I settled myself promptly to my regular seat in the very last row.

The next session was going to be my favorite subject, English. We girls were eager to have a teacher after missing our lessons for a couple of weeks. So looking forward to it, we sat calmly taking our regular positions. Expecting the new educator, pin-drop silence reigned. After a few minutes, suddenly the heavy wooden door swung open, so the entire class of thirty girls turned their heads towards it. In contrast to all our current female staff members, surprising us, instantly in front of our curious eyes there appeared a smartly-dressed handsome youth! Seeing a good-looking young man in great attire, instantly adrenaline rushed to me. No doubt, it occurred to rest of the girls too. Impressed with his slim, tall figure and the gleaming, short jet-black hair, he should go on the catwalk in Milan, I thought.

Keeping the heavy, leather briefcase on the floor, he settled himself briskly to stand in front of the head table. Was he promoting Emporio Armani exclusive designed suites, I wondered, having presented himself in a pair of navy pants, striped long-sleeved shirt, and a colorful matching tie. Scanning his dark-brown eyes across the room carefully, he introduced himself, Good morning girls! I am Antony Theobroma.

Good morning, sir! There arose a mighty chorus from the entire class.

Now leant against the heavy table, he began glancing further across the classroom. Impressing him, we all were dressed in our neat school uniforms: snow-white tops, jade skirts, and bottle-green neckties dangling down the multitude of shapes and sizes of our busts. Our hair combed to a luster in various styles: plaited, let loose, shoulder length or short-haired. In addition to those, unsure of the others, but I was wearing my religious ‘chastity belt’ around my waist too.

Thus, he commenced his debut teaching career at this great girls’ school. So, soon everything settled and he began his very first lesson.

Like watching a magic show, from the last row, my excited eyes followed all his movements. Facing the white-board he wrote few sentences swiftly, and then turned around and glanced across us. His tie-pin glistened under the natural light. He paused, rearranged his tie and continued with his writing, again. Honestly, throughout the lesson, my eyes innocently trailed on his narrow face, thick eyebrows, fully shaven face and so on. He went on teaching us taking every effort, but despite my interest in the subject, I focused more on the teacher than what he was teaching.

Towards the end of the session, to familiarize with our names, he asked us to introduce every girl individually. I was already thrilled with my inner desires. My face blushed, my heart raced, my breathing grew more pronounced, and my entire body began to tremble. Yet, when it came to my turn, like any other girl, standing calmly and smiling sweetly, I announced, I am Luna.

At the end of an hour of teaching, I learned nothing! Further, I developed the vision of his aura for his manner of speech, movements, and the charming looks. My innocence of upbringing under strict male-free atmosphere was such, unbelievably, I was already emotionally attracted!

Okay…interesting bunch of girls…see you tomorrow. With a light smile, he concluded his teaching for the day. Then, grabbing the briefcase, he filed out of the room.

When he left us, a hubbub broke out among all the girls. Shrill voices and stamping shoes began to fill the classroom when the students gathered freely for a break. Some girls lolled lazily atop the tables, or perched; others standing or darting here and there. Amidst their continuous chattering, laughing, cooing and giggling, they discussed about the new teacher.

Oh God! What a name… Antony Theobroma! one talkative girl opened up the chattering, telling his name loud.

Yes, A-n-t-o-n-y T-h-e-o-b-r-o-m-a! another girl proclaimed loud to the entire class in a simulated deep authoritative voice, bowing in front of all the girls.

Ha-ha, Theobroma is god’s food, my friend Kara added.

Yes, yes…you are right…Theo is god, Maria supported Kara’s view.

No…no…no. Listen girls, Theobroma is cocoa. Chocolate comes from cocoa, exclaimed loud a knowledgeable girl in the class, triumphantly clenching her fist in the air and opposing others’ view.

Oh! Ho-ho, now we know, a funny student said with laughter, he is so sweet…yes, sweet like a chocolate bar.

Instantly the entire bunch of students erupted into a loud laughter.

Silently listening to their discussion, I kept low profile as in my dream world, unbelievably, I was already in love with him! Leaving them to have fun and hilarity of his name, having high hopes, I determined that one day I might carry the same name—Missus Theobroma. Nevertheless, the humor ended abruptly when the next teacher entered the class. All scattered girls returned to their seats silently.

Yes, sitting mutely at my desk, a whirl of thoughts came to my young mind. I began to think—thinking of a plot for attracting his direct attention on this calm, quiet, and prude girl, Luna. I knew that I am not the prettiest out of all the girls. Yet, for what I have heard from others, I knew I have some attractive features to draw his attention.

A couple of months ago, I celebrated my wonderful eighteenth birthday by inviting some of my school friends. On this occasion, against my regular school uniforms, they saw me in a Dolce and Gabbana violet crepe dress. Getting mesmerized with my pretty nubile features, everyone commented of my wonderful appearance.

Ta-da. Oh! Luna…you a true replica of Monica Bellucci…slim body…long, black, straight hair…might be a model soon, when we met at the party, my faithful friend, Kara, said hugging me warmly.

How could that be? No way. Forget it. You know how my parents are like…. they might chop my body and dump in the sea, I responded, thinking of my parents’ strictness, religious values, taboos, and hence lack of such opportunity.

Eh, if Monica could, why can’t Luna? she asked, looking to my dark-brown eyes.

Confused, but with pride, I shrugged. I had heard so much about the rising star, Bellucci and how this young model gaining rapid popularity in Italy and beyond.

It still rings in my ears what my mother commented on me in my mid-teen years. I was dressed to go out to our neighbor’s birthday party. My little angel Luna, you look gorgeous…reminds me our Pieta marble statue, mother, so excited of her teen daughter, praised me brushing a kiss on my face. I remember seeing the Pieta statue at Vatican City and was of Virgin Mary by Michael Angelo.

According to them, basically, I had all the appealing insignia of womanhood. On top of it, I am still a fresh, demure teenager brought up under strict cultural and religious inhibitions, and taboos of the 1970s and 1980s. Further, of course, I am still a high school virgin, untouched my masculine fingers—the most valuable asset a girl could possess to attract a gentleman.

So, I developed confidence that I could draw his interest before any other girl does. For that, I thought for a long while, what the best approach to win his heart. Being a young graduate, he might still be entrapped in a university romance, or with his own high school sweetheart. Yet, I could achieve what I am desperate for, I determined. Looking to the portraits on the walls, with all my faith, I prayed silently over and over to the Almighty Lord to make my dream come