Full title : Educating An Old Friend's Hot Daughter
Manon was the daughter of an old friend. We had become friends during a short work related collaboration. However, when I moved from that town to my current home, we lost contact because emails, mobile telephones, and everything else we know today simply didn't exist back then.
At that time, we were in our early twenties, and my friend already had three children, and the fourth was on its way. Yes, they had started young, and I always thought, 'They will probably die young too." I mean, four kids! That's a lot of work!
The two eldest were boys, followed by two girls. Manon was the third child, the elder of the two girls, and went from 4 to 6 years old during the time I knew her father.
Twelve years later, I received a Facebook message. I was online when the message notification popped up on my screen showing a picture of a young lady's face. I was about to bin the message when I saw in the first line :
"Hey, you won't remember me, but I'm Stephane's ******'s daughter, Manon."
That sort of rang a bell, so I read the message. Basically, she said she was coming to my town in a few weeks to visit the university here, which was one of three she was applying for.
She said she was glad to have found me and was wondering if we could meet up. The visit was on a Friday afternoon, in two weeks. According to my schedule, I was off that weekend, as from lunchtime on the Friday concerned.
Mostly, I was happy to learn that the kid was going to university, something I wouldn't have imagined coming from her family, who were not at all academically inclined.
So I figured 'what the heck' and wrote back, saying I was available on that Friday from midday onwards.
She replied almost instantly with a message full of abbreviations and smilies, which took a little while for me to understand all of it, but basically, she was going to be arriving at the coach station at 12:30. She had to be at the university for 3 pm then was going to meet up with a friend who lives here and where she'll be staying until she leaves on Sunday evening.
Perfect, I replied, saying that I'll meet her off the coach, we'll eat together, then I'll put her on the right town bus for the university.
She sounded delighted in her reply and finished it with an English expression: "We'll call it a date then." Which made me laugh, albeit a little naively as it turned out.
I ended up finishing work a little early on that Friday, so I took my time getting to the coach station. Her coach pulled into its bay on time. I waved as she appeared at the door of the coach, and with a beaming smile on her face, she signalled she'd seen me and was going to get her luggage from underneath.
Dragging a smallish suitcase behind her, she literally ran across to me, let go of the case, and flung herself on me, wrapping her arms around me and hugging me quite firmly. I felt it was a little too firm, but ok, she seemed genuinely very pleased to see me.
She was a lot shorter than me, her head not quite reaching my chin. She was dressed and made up like a typical teenager of her time. She was also stunningly attractive.
She wanted a burger and wanted to go to a well-known international fast food joint. I flatly refused, telling her simply that she can go there with her friend tonight or whenever but 'we' can do better than that and took her to a restaurant that does amazing house burgers. It was really sweet when, after only two mouthfuls of her burger, she looked up at me with her big puppy eyes and said,
"Fuck me! I didn't know a burger could taste 'this' good!!!"
I replied, "Manon! Please! Mind your language; 'Fuck me' is not befitting for a beautiful young lady like you."
"Really? You think so?" She asked, laughing.
"Think what?"
"That I'm beautiful?"
"Err, well yes, you are actually, but I was referring to you using those words in this context."
"Ummm," she said, chewing her third mouthful, then continued, flashing her big eyes at me again. "Umm, context, umm god, this is SO good. In what context would it be ok to say 'fuck me'?"
Before I could answer, she swallowed, rolled her eyes as if to say, 'This is awesome,' then said, "Err, by the way, can I stay at your place tonight?"
"Uh, Manon I thought you said you were staying with a friend."
"Yeah, but she's had to go to her parents; she says she might come back tomorrow, but she doesn't know yet; I'm waiting for a message."
"Well, I guess, but you could go home if you want after the university thing?"
"Eh, no! I don't think so! I've been so looking forward to coming. I don't want to go home. That's why I'm here, you know, looking for a university. I worked my fucking ass off to get the grades. I want out of that shithole town and away from my awful parents...."
She was rambling, so I cut her off and asked,
"Yes! How are your parents doing? A question I quickly regretted asking.
"Divorced, Chris & Alex refuse to see either of them; they got their own places, so it's easy for them, lucky bastards! Whilst I have to live with mom and Charline lives with dad."
"I..."
She cut me off and continued, "Anyway, mom would not be happy if I went home; she's going to be having one of her boyfriends around!"
"One of her boyfriends?" I ventured as I tried to absorb all the news.
"Yeah, she changes boyfriends more often than her underwear!"
I couldn't help but laugh! Manon looked at me, then burst into laughter. Once we'd both stopped, she asked,
"Well, can I? Please! I so want to be here and be with you! I missed you when you left town; you were always kind to me. I remember whenever you came around, you'd play Snap with me; mom and dad never played with me, nor did my brother's, and Charline only ever wanted to play with her fucking Barbies. I fucking hate...."
It was my turn to cut her rambling off again. If I hadn't, I had the impression she could go on for hours. So I said,
"Yeah, sure, Manon, you can stay on my sofa; you're most welcome."
"Sofa?" She said, smiling a malicious-looking smile and once again batting her eyes at me.
"You can stay, Manon, ok!, but I do believe you're flirting with me, and that is not wise; you don't want to go there, so knock it off."
And that seemed to be the end of that. When we finished the meal, I sent her across the road to the bus stop, from where she could get to the university. I gave her two tickets and told her I'd wait in the bar next door with her case.
She said she'd be as quick as possible, to which I said,
"No, take your time; it's your future; it's important. Anyway, the owner is a good friend of mine, and we got some business to talk over, so go, off you go; there's a bus coming, look."
"Er, ok, if you're sure, cool, see you in a bit then" and zipped across the street. I watched her get on the bus, then went to my friend's bar.
We arrived at my place at nearly 6 p.m. I showed her around downstairs and introduced her to 'the sofa'. She laughed then asked,
"Yeah! But where's the bedroom?"
"That's up there." Pointing at the stairs. Too, which she grabbed her case then started almost running to the stairs, and then she went straight up, saying,
"Cool, look, I just need to change clothes seeing as we'll probably be going out again in a bit! No?"
