All I wanted was to go to university.
As you can imagine, in high school I was a simple guy, a bit different from the rest of the people where I grew up. I had always got along with every one in my class but I had a grand plan I wanted to go to uni & study business. Perhaps become an accountant or financial planner while my mates were interested in going to parties and getting drunk.
Of course I had a reason for this plan. You know poor country boy attempting to make something of himself; the kid with glasses , in the middle of the class room who's parents couldn't afford for him to attend the school excursions. Who always wore second hand uniform?
My Dad was a farm hand & my Mum worked in the supermarket, but they did give me one piece of advice; my parents told me that in order to get along in this life you need to dress well and look good. Now for me this was not a huge problem. You see I'm almost 6 feet tall and fairly well built; I stay in pretty good shape because I play basketball.
After year twelve I was admitted into the local university, I was elated. All the hard study and good grades had paid off. I could see my golden future laid out before me. Step one was uni then, as soon as I graduated I'd find a great job and then I would go about finding that nice woman who I could marry and live happily ever after with. My life was progressing quite nicely, thank you.
One of the first things that happens at Uni is "O-Week", which is short for orientation week. It's a time when first year students become familiar with university life and meet the various clubs etc. It's generally a four day affair which takes place on campus. However there is a town tour which ends with a little camping.
On day two we all gathered for our camp-out and tour of the town. Even though I had lived here my whole life I guessed it might be a nice way to get to know some people in my course. We all gathered in front of the library to meet the busses. There were about 200 students. Looking around I saw a collection of big buff footy players, scruffy surfie guys & a couple of Emo's thrown in for good measure. I was glad for my parent's advice to take care of myself and my appearance; I didn't stand out from the crowd, but I looked better than some kids!
The busses arrived, and the great mass proceeded to stuff themselves in. Not in any particular hurry I moved to the back of the second bus, and made myself comfortable. As the bus packed, a rather pretty girl started to make her way to the back to join me.
She wore a rather tight denim skirt, a singlet top, and black leather jacket; the exception to the rule of t-shirts and messed up hair. From this vantage I saw a rather shapely arse which made something inside of me stir.
It wasn't like I hadn't ever seen a girl before. I had dated some in high school. It just was, well, not in my immediate plan. But something about the way she moved was impressive. Her shape, her long flaming red hair, the smell of her perfume; I couldn't move, couldn't think. Something more primitive was trying to rest the controls of my life away from me, and I wasn't too certain I should give in. When she asked if she could join me, I stammered "yeah, sure", and she giggled as she sat down. "Hi" she said. My name is Lyndall
I couldn't stop myself from thinking about what it would be like to rub her thighs, or letting my hand run itself up to the hair between her legs. Would there be any hair? I knew a lot of girls got Brazilian waxes. Perhaps she was one of them?
After driving around town with the bus driver pointing out some of the pubs and cafes that the town had to offer we eventually reached the dock where our boat would be taking the first years out to the island.
