Foreword: This story is a bit of slow starter, I like to develop a bit of a plot first, even on a short story. If you want sex from the get go, you'd best move on, otherwise I hope you enjoy my horny ramblings.
Sandy_Rock
Chapter 1 β Decisions
In March 2007 I had a stroke of luck; I won 13.8 million pounds on the National Lottery.
I was already comfortable, a single (divorced) man in the prime of his life (35 at the time), an engineering consultant for an international consultancy, own house, own car and reasonably fit and healthy. I know this sounds a bit like a dating site profile, but that is basically what I had resorted to. I gave up work and went travelling for a year, first class and champagne all the way, but I was looking for something, just not exactly certain what it was.
I am not saying there was any lack of social or love life, far from it, I had no problem in that department. I was reasonably turned out at 5'9 and told I was good looking in a Bruce Willis kind of way and I kept myself in very good shape with an active lifestyle. My problem was that a lot of money seems to make a man attractive to certain kinds of people, especially women of a certain kind, and they were not the kind of women that I was attracted to.
I just did not go to the types of places that I could meet the kind of woman I was attracted to, someone who could hold a conversation that did not repeat the words shopping, fashion, holiday and shopping over and over again. In fact someone who could just hold a conversation would have been refreshing.
The dating site thing was fun at first, I met some great people, many that have become firm friends, but I discovered that the women that I found attractive and stimulating were, understandably I suppose, driven and successful; they were at the top of their game or ran their own business and had no real free time. I am up for a dirty weekend in Paris as much as the next man, but just having rushed weekends a couple of times a month are not for me. I needed something else, less rushed and frenetic.
I weighed up my options and decided I would have to do something that had a purpose, something I could immerse myself in. That way things could just take their natural course, que sera sera and all that. I decided to expand my mind and go back to university and do a degree in a non-engineering discipline. My other loves were history and literature, so I got some prospectuses (prospectii?) and decided to do Medieval History at the University of Reading. It was very easy to get a place, as soon as I mentioned cash up front, that I would have my own accommodation and would not be any kind of strain on the system, entry was a breeze.
House hunting was enjoyable and I almost decided to go into property development but then the recession loomed and I decided that was possibly not the best time. I got somewhere five miles away from the campus and spent the summer refurbishing and modifying it to my satisfaction. It was a large five bedroom place in half an acre or so, so in went the pool, the gym, the hot tub, home cinema, kitchen and en-suite bathrooms, out went the drab decoration and furnishings. I also made the house ultra efficient with new windows, solar heating and ground source heat pumps. I even invested in some new art that had increased in value before it was even on the wall. By the time October arrived I was all set and had read all the books that had been recommended by the History department.
Chapter 2 β University
The first day at university I had some slight misgivings. I did not realise quite how old 37 was until I was standing in a class of 18 and 19 year olds. A couple of them thought I was the tutor. I did not think I had not dressed particularly 'old', I was in faded black denim jeans, a trendy faded tee shirt and casual zip top, but I stuck out like an un-ironed shirt at Saville Row tailor's. For a start my jeans were round my waist, not half way down my backside and I did not have at least one earphone in my ear.
Do not get me wrong, I was far from the oldest person on campus, not even the oldest student, there were plenty of older people around, lecturers, cleaners and maintenance people, adult students, but there were none of them in the Medieval History class.
The lecturer in charge of the pastoral welfare of the class came in and he encouraged everyone to introduce themselves. Everyone was very forthcoming with their aims and ambitions but I was the polar opposite, giving almost no information as to why I had decided to do that particular course or what my final goal was, mainly because there was no final goal. Someone asked if I was going into teaching so I just said 'I am thinking of something along those lines' and left it at that.
The course was interesting and stimulating and I threw myself into it. The curriculum was arranged so that there was a minimum amount of work you had to do, but almost no maximum, so I spent a lot of my time doing research, digging into obscure sources for information and detail. I found that I had become a bit of a font of all knowledge to many and several of the students were coming to me for advice and to discuss ideas. I got into some deep meaningful discussions with several of the lecturers and by the second term I was even asked to give a couple of lectures myself on subjects that I had researched.
One afternoon in the second term, after lectures had finished, I had stayed behind to discuss something with the lecturer and left about fifteen minutes later than everyone else. As I walked my bike round to the front of the building I heard a girl's shouts coming from around the corner ahead of me. I rounded the corner and one of the girls from my class, Mel, was shouting into her mobile 'Well fuck you, I wouldn't share a house with you if YOU paid ME you BASTARD!'
She reached her arm back to throw her mobile across the road and I said 'You don't really want to do that do you?'
She stopped mid swing and turned and glared at me. She recognised me and replied 'I am just so angry! Argghhh!' Then she just deflated and her face crumpled, all her anger burned away.
She turned away from me, starting to sob. 'I'm sorry', she said in a choked voice.
'Sorry for what? You haven't done anything to me.' I replied, trying to keep my tone light.
'I don't know. My life is just shit and getting worse...'
I said 'Woah Mel! It can't be that bad can it? I never see you without a smile or a laugh, and you are doing okay with the course aren't you?'
'Yeah, that's all that is going okay though. I haven't got a job, my boyfriend just dumped me, that was him on the phone, and he has just ripped me off for two hundred quid.' She said with an air of finality.
'That is not a good situation to be in, why can't you get it back off him?' I said with concern in my voice.
'because...oh it's too long a story' she sighed.
I saw how depressed she was, I had never seen her like that. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it.
'Not really...maybe...I don't know. What good will talking about it do?' She asked, looking at me with her sad red lined eyes.
'Sometimes it just helps...' I replied. I could see she was considering the idea 'Come on, let me put my bike back on the rack, there is a decent coffee shop on the parade.'
I locked up my bike and as we walked over to the cafe, she started telling me her predicament.
'My now ex-boyfriend runs a music and DVD shop in town, he is cashing in on the students, they buy DVDs, CDs, computer games, books and then when they get bored with them they sell them on. Well he is like a middle man, he buys them for a fixed price and then sells them from his shop. He used to run a market stall, but now he has taken one of the vacant shops in the Broad Street Centre. I was working for him on his stall, not great money but it helped spread my loan. I leant him the money from my loan to help get into the shop , he was going to pay me back over the next couple of months and I'd work more regularly in his shop for more money. And I was going to move in with him...' She started crying again.
We got to the coffee shop and she ran her fingers under her eyes and lifted her head as I opened the door for her. We sat at a table and the waitress came over for our order. I ordered a flat white coffee and she ordered a small skinny latte.
When the waitress left I asked Mel if she wanted anything to eat.
She replied 'I can't afford to eat out for the next few months...if ever.'
I smiled and said 'I'll stand you a bit of tea, I really don't want it being paid back. I'm just righting the balance, something good for something bad.'
She smiled sadly and said 'Thanks, I am very hungry, I've had two cigarettes since I had a slice of toast this morning.'
When the waitress brought our coffees we ordered jacket potatoes, hers with coleslaw and cheese, and mine with Tuna.