Perspective
- 4 years ago
- 22
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My second year was as different from my first as night and day. First of all, I knew what to expect and what was expected of me. Secondly, I was beginning to get a sense of what my career path might be. My exposure to political life was, if nothing else, exciting. I was part of a machine dedicated to getting a man elected to office. Whether or not he was fit for that office never entered my thoughts.
I had chosen to take Political Science, along with European History as two of my main courses. Journalism was also included, naturally and, in a moment of inspiration, I chose Psychology as another course. It seemed like a strange mix at first but, as Steve Walters predicted, I was surprised how each of them melded together. I was confident I would do well in these courses since I had an abiding interest in them to begin with. By Christmas, I knew I had made some really good choices. I was at the top of my class in almost every one.
They say that success opens doors and that was the case for me in the most unlikely way.
"Excuse me, are you Hal Berglund?" the soft voice came over my shoulder.
I was having lunch in the Student Union Building and at the time, reading a chapter of the history of the Napoleonic Wars. The voice startled me.
"Uhhm, yes." I answered before turning to see who was asking. I didn't recognize her immediately but she did look somewhat familiar. A dark-haired beauty with a lovely body, she was an eyeful to any guy with half a brain and a reasonable supply of hormones.
"May I join you," she asked sweetly, clearly shy in her approach.
"Yes. Of course. Please do," I stumbled clumsily rising to pull back a chair for her.
"Thank you," she smiled and it was a brilliant, thousand watt smile too.
She put her tray down, showing an almost typical female student lunch, salad and tea.
"How do you stay alive with just that little bit?" I asked with a grin.
"I sneak an energy bar during the afternoon break when no one's watching," she said with a cheeky smirk.
"Ah, that explains it. Otherwise you'd have one of those anorexic model bodies. By the way, I'm Hal Berglund."
"Yes, I know. I'm Renata Di Gravio. Nice to meet you, Hal."
"Nice to meet you too," I replied, thinking for a moment. "I get the impression you aren't sitting here because there isn't anywhere else so you must have a reason." I was being more forward that I would usually be, but it didn't seem to bother her.
"Yes. Steve Walters suggested I talk to you. I need some help in my history class. I'm struggling with some of it and Steve said you were the best person to talk to since you're at the top of the class. Would you be willing to help me?"
Now that was a surprise. I'd helped Ginny back in high school but this was something entirely different. On the other hand, she was a very attractive young lady; a solid eight-plus in my book so I was tempted.
"What kind of help do you think you need?" I tried.
"I'm having trouble with dates and places and I can't seem to get them straight. I'm usually a pretty good student but right now I'm worried that I'm not going to do well on the mid-terms and might even fail. I can't afford that," she said with a very concerned look.
"Okay ... I think I can help you with History all right. It's a matter of trying to put the pieces of a puzzle together so that you can understand how one thing led to another. Once you catch onto the concept, you'll do a lot better."
"So ... you are going to help?" she said, seemingly not believing I would.
"If I can. No guarantees, Renata. I'm not a teacher, just a student like you."
"Yeah but you are top of the top, and besides, Steve said you were a real gentleman and would always help a lady in distress," she grinned.
"He did, did he? Well, lucky for you that you caught me in a weak moment, so let's talk about when we can meet. I don't live on campus and I commute home each day. What about you?"
"I have a dorm room with a roommate. What do you suggest?"
"Let's meet in the library after class today. I'll try and get an idea of where you need help. Then we can make some plans for getting together."
"Thank you, Hal. I really appreciate this. I just know you can help me. Thank you," she said, putting her hand over mine.
We finished our lunch and agreed to meet at four o'clock at the library entrance after her last class. I would be finished my classes at two but could spend some time on my studies while waiting for her. I admit I was looking forward to spending some time with her. You never know how these things can work out.
She arrived promptly at four and we proceeded to the study area, already fairly empty of students. I motioned to her where I thought we could sit without disturbing anyone and she followed.
"Thanks again, Hal. I really appreciate this," she smiled as she sat.
"Don't thank me yet. We haven't started," I grinned, hoping it would relax her.
For the next hour we went over the outline of the European history we were expected to have read and understood by midterm. It began with the Greek and Roman origins in the fourth and fifth century BC and went as far as the early 16th century and Martin Luther. I had a great reference book at home and I planned to bring it for our next session as it not only spelled out what happened when but showed maps of the changes in influence of Rome, the so-called Barbarians, the Italian Principalities, France and Great Britain, etc. Many of the pages were dog-eared now as I had referred to it so often.
Renata had attended a public school in the Ottawa suburb of Orleans and had pretty much been expected to learn by rote. Pick a date, memorize an event or vice versa. It held no context that would make her able to connect one event to another. It was just a collection of facts. My teachers had tried to get us to understand how one thing led to another and why they took place. The dates were simply reference points and most of us found it much easier to remember them using this method. Even so, the date was seldom the most important feature. It was the event and what led up to it or followed it.
The next day, Renata and I discussed her history class and specifically where she thought she was having trouble. This was going to be a greater challenge because just using the Cole's Notes version wasn't going to cut it on exams.
I loaned her my well-worn reference book that afternoon and within a few days I could see the light go on when it came to understanding just how Europe had evolved over the nearly twenty centuries that she had to study. It was actually fun to watch her light up when she could see how the flow of history in one part of the continent could affect the flow in another. The maps in my reference book, a large "coffee table" style book, were excellent at showing the power bases of various kingdoms and just how they developed over the centuries.
Renata had a boyfriend, who I didn't know about until the third study session. We were taking a brief break and exchanging some small talk when I asked her about her personal life.
"I have a boyfriend, Bruno. That's not really his name, but he hates his real one, so when one of his coaches called him a Bruno, it kind of stuck," she laughed.
"Coaches?"
"Yeah. He's a linebacker on the football team."
"Oh, shit," I thought. "I wonder what he thinks of me spending time with his girlfriend."
"Uhhm, does he know about our study sessions?"
"Sure. He's okay with it. Besides, when we meet, he's always at practice, so it's not like he's going to show up here."
We were meeting twice a week now, Tuesdays and Thursdays. As it turned out, Bruno had practices on both those days. Lucky me, I thought. The last thing I needed was a jealous psycho linebacker on the hunt for me.
By the time midterms rolled around, I was confident that Renata would be okay with History. She was working hard on the subject and, to tell the truth, I was enjoying my time with her. I was also enjoying watching her do well. I began to identify with the pull of teaching for some people; that ability to help students understand a subject and achieve satisfaction as they succeeded.
At the end of the term, I was waiting to hear how Renata did in her mid-terms. It was no surprise when she passed European History with ease but it wasn't a foregone conclusion to her.
"I did it! I did it!" Renata cried loudly as she raced up to me in the hallway.
"Okay ... but you did what?" I smiled, fairly certain what she was referring to.
"I passed History," she gasped, almost out of breath. "Thanks to you, I did it!"
"Congratulations, Renata. I'm really pleased for you. You worked very hard for that and I'm delighted you were rewarded."
"We've got to celebrate," she said excitedly. "Let me and Bruno take you and your girlfriend out to dinner this weekend."
"Uhhm, that's very kind of you but you don't have to do that. Besides, I don't have a girlfriend," I admitted.
"No problem. I'll bring my roommate along. She's really nice and very pretty too." She wasn't going to be deterred easily.
"Look, Renata, I'm really happy for you but you don't have to do anything for me. It's enough that you passed. That makes me feel like it was worth the effort."
"Nope. I won't take no for an answer. I'll let you know where and when. See you," she said, skipping off to who knows where.
Great! Now I've got a date with a girl I've never met. A double date with a guy named Bruno who I've never met. How'd I get myself into this mess? Oh well, it's only for one dinner. I imagine on our skimpy funds, it'll be pizza and colas. It can't be that bad.
I suppose I should have had more confidence in Renata. I'd heard enough horror stories about blind dates that I guess that coloured my thinking. When I arrived at La Trattoria at six o'clock on Saturday evening I was pleasantly surprised that it was a nice, almost upscale restaurant. I walked into the reception area and a young lady asked if I had a reservation. I could see the room was almost full.
"Uhhm, I'm Hal Berglund and I'm meeting a Miss Di Gravio and her guests."
"Of course. Come with me," she said, picking up a menu. "They've already arrived."
I followed her, almost immediately feeling hunger pangs as I caught the wonderful aroma of cheese, garlic, tomato sauce, and any number of other scents. If nothing else, it put my concerns about the evening to rest and helped raise my expectations.
"Hi, Hal," Renata said, popping up from her seat as she spotted me. A big, dark-haired, good-looking guy rose slowly beside her and extended his hand.
"Hi, I'm Bruno Polipo." I took his hand, thankful that he didn't try and crush it. It was at that point that I looked over at the third person at our table and almost had to catch my breath.
She hadn't risen but then she didn't need to. I could see everything I needed to see as she sat there, nervously smiling as the introductions were made. She was as lovely as Renata but blonde and blue-eyed. Very easy on the eyes indeed.
"Hal, this is Jean Howcroft, my roommate. Jean, meet Hal Berglund, my rescuer in European History."
"Nice to meet you, Hal," she said, clearly nervous.
"Nice to meet you too," I responded. I pulled back my chair and sat.
"You've surprised me, Renata. I expected something a bit less elegant than this. It's really very nice and the smells are driving me crazy."
"Good, glad to hear it," she grinned. "Bruno insisted on it and I was hoping you'd be pleased too. Have you been here before?"
"Ah, no. It's a bit beyond my budget I'm afraid."
"We try to keep the prices reasonable," Bruno said, "but running a restaurant isn't easy these days. So much depends on the economy and loyal customers."
"We?" I asked.
"My parents own this restaurant. Once in a while, on a special occasion, I take advantage of that. This is definitely a special occasion. Renata was very worried about getting though her first six months and you really helped her. We're both very grateful, as are our parents."
The rest of the evening was filled with talk and outstanding food. Bruno did the ordering and I couldn't fault his choices. By the end of the evening I couldn't have eaten more if my life depended upon it. In the meantime I learned a lot more about my two hosts but little about my "date."
Bruno had no intention of getting involved with the family business. He was aiming for a law degree. Like me, he was second year and was having no problems with his studies. He wasn't the stereotypical linebacker in any way other than his physique. He was also quite witty and a very fine dinner companion. I wondered if we might become friends rather than just acquaintances.
Renata had already confessed she was looking for no more than an arts degree. Both she and Bruno would be the first in their families with a college degree and that was a badge of honour for her. The only thing I didn't learn that evening was Bruno's proper first name.
Jean Howcroft was quiet but not silent. She listened, she smiled, she added some comments now and then but otherwise was a happy passenger at the table. I tried a couple of times to engage her in conversation but either I chose the wrong topics or she was reluctant to talk. I did learn that she was taking the required courses for first year but planning on Poli-Sci for her major beginning next year. I tried to get her to tell me a little bit about why but I didn't get very far.
Just the same, she was intriguing. Very attractive, clearly quite bright based on Renata's compliments about her grades, and yet strangely reticent among the three of us. I didn't get any clue as to why until the meal was finished and we prepared to leave. As Jean rose, I saw her use both the chair and the table to support herself. She took a few steps and it was then obvious that she had difficulty walking. I quickly moved to her side and offered my arm. She smiled and took it as we moved slowly out of the restaurant.
Dedication: To the people who read my first effort of a published story and their words of encouragement. I hope this is to the same standard I have set myself. To the FM staff of editors and readers thank you for this site. This story may be posted to free archive sites or anywhere that does not charge for the usage of their archive. If you have any comments about my stories please don't hesitate to contact me via my email address: [email protected]. Perspective By allie...
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Group SexLate night - centre of town. I'd moved into my Halls that afternoon - fixed up a dodgy jacket potato and walked into the Student's Union - Freshers Party was probably winding down by now - but I could still hopefully hook up with some people. First stop was the bar - of course. "Pint of Carling please." I called out - my order duly arrived - I'd come to the place completely solo - having made no contacts whatsoever beforehand and sharing my flat with no one - welcome to Uni...
==================I know from a female perspective how the first raw insertion of a mans hard thick cock feels between the swollen drenched wet lips of my pussy. At the same time I'm curious... how does it feel to you guys out there, when you feel the throbbing head of your cock enter her aching opening for the first time?Any and all replies are appreciated.I refer to each and every time you enter a woman, not just a virgin. I am seeking to comprehend if men anticipate it as much as we do. I...
by Alex Greene writing as ‘Fiat Knox’ Copyright © Alex Greene. All rights reserved. The sound of a chainsaw jolted Julia Markham out of her dream. She opened her eyes suddenly and gasped. For a moment she could not register where she was. Gradually, awareness came to her. She was in her bedroom, back in her house. It was the morning, with early sunlight filtering through the curtains. She was naked and hungry. And the chainsaw started again, outside. Cursing under her breath, Julia slowly...
Perfect… just perfect! Liz ran up the steps to the second floor bathroom with a plunger in hand. What else can go wrong? At least the darn thing wasn’t actually overflowing, thank heavens for small favors. Liz had been planning today’s family reunion for the past year. She thought she’d planned everything so well that it would run like clockwork but Murphy’s Law had prevailed. ‘Why did I ever get the idea of a family reunion?’ she wondered aloud. It had started four years before when Liz had...
However, moments later, without so much as a sound and before I could open my eyes, hands gripped my head. A blindfold was roughly forced over my face. Then I was then hauled from the warm sleeping bag and tent which I had blissfully entered only a few hours previously. Any previous sensations were brutally replaced with adrenaline, panic and the sound of my heart beating rapidly in my ears. Blind and confused, I was dragged out of the tent, and on to my knees. Instantly, my breath was taken...
Her name was Natalie, she moved in next door about three months prior. Remembering that on it's own got me hard, I mean how could it not? the perky tits under her tight pink crop top just teasing all who look? Or how about the short..Oh how I loved the shorts, short tight denim daisies that gripped her ass in all the right spots, and when she pulled them up high enough her bare ass peeked out the bottom. But, the outfit she wore wasn't my favorite part of her moving in, it was the placement...
I'd have the whore naked if office etiquetted allowed which it sadly did not. My father had said he had expected me to treat her with more respect than I was, I laughed and said why would I treat a whore with respect. She carries your children you should be more respectful than you are. Not that I want the whore in that way or her children for that matter. They would go to an orphange if I had any say in the matter. Though I suspect my mother the bitch will have something to say about that....
I had left my apartment that morning and headed for the studio; I was an average looking 35-year-old man, alone after an early night of casual sex with two women from yesterday’s movie. I relished having no family to account to on a daily basis since my divorce. My parents were deceased and my younger half brother Greg didn’t approve of my occupation. Greg was an uptight professional on Wall Street and thought that what I did was sleazy. I, on the other hand, thought I had the best...
We are on a train at the end of a long job it’s dark and we are sitting across from each other. There is a table between us. You have a skirt on we have been exchanging pleasantries when I start to rub my foot against your legs. You open them and I start to get braver rubbing your thighs with my foot. Surprisingly you suddenly get up and head for the toilets… A few minutes later you return to the seat with a certain look on your face. You sit back down I look around and see that the only...
"You're sure this device will work?" John asked. He fidgeted his wrist as Billy tightened a watch-like machine on him. "Yeah, you should have been there, I was having a conversation with her, but it was like we were talking past each other." "But, where did you find this watch and the rest of these junk?" Looking at his watch, John could see it looked like a dead smartwatch except for a bright red button. Billy laughed as he shook his head. "This isn't junk, we're sitting on a fucking gold mine...
Mind ControlYour relationship had never been what one might call ‘fiery’. It probably couldn’t even really be called exciting, now you think about it, which you do while you walk home from the train station. But God knows you’re dependable and you’re sure she likes that about you. You had prospects and you’ve pretty much achieved them in the ten years you’ve been married, you think with a smile. The father in law really approves of that!She was very pretty and people said she was vivacious but you’ve never...
CuckoldI'm opting to put this under Mind Control because it encompasses so many fetishes on CHYOA, and at its heart, mind control is the inspiration for this idea. This story is not expressly limited to Mind Control, but it is the focus. What follows are stories told from the point-of-view of the victim. Expect inner monologues, bizarre justifications for actions and perhaps even a little comedy. They are organized by fetish and gender; writers are instructed to note introduction of a primary fetish...
Mind ControlA spreading infection that turns people into insatiable lactating sluts? Sounds unlikely, but that's exactly what this story is about, while most stories in this universe focus on the men, we will focus on the women. There are different types of women that have been infected, here's a list for your benefit: Normal Infected: These are transformed women or men that didn't use a "cure," these women are insatiable sluts as usual, and will do anything for sex, their breasts are massive and always...
FantasyThis is a true story circa 2012. One morning im walking back from my exes sisters house who was my bff at the time and we hung out all the time drinking wine and such. She stayed about 5 blocks from me so i was walking home to shower n change clothes and return. I was walking home in just a white tee and grey short shorts. I got to the end of her block and this blue nissan that drives around the neighborhood was pulling to a stop by me. The driver had his window down and offered me a ride I was...
NOTE: This is a companion piece to 'Alone in the dark', which I recommend reading first.*You're alone in the dark until I enter.I open the door as little as possible, so there's not enough light to see you, and I close it quickly.I stand there silently, giving my eyes time to adjust until I can see the discreet glowing stickers placed on the frame you are strapped to. There are just enough of them that I can orient myself and find you, but you have no idea they are there.My feet bare, I softly...
BDSMI absolutely love all the submissive married guys you can find on popular gay hookup apps/websites these days and I have been seeking them out for years. I’m not sure if it is just my city but there seems to be an endless supply that all fit the same mold. They are all 30-50 years old, sometimes a little chubby, and have a poor quality ass/body shot as their profile picture. They’ll refuse to share a face pic (discreet) but inevitably when they show up they are wanting to be used like a...
[A cuckold husband talks about his experience as a cuckold, and other related issues pertaining to his experiences. Inspired by my good friends A, and her husband T.]Q. Doesn't it ever bother you, even a little, that Mara's carrying another guys baby, instead of yours?A. No, it doesn't. I've been asked that question a lot. It seems difficult for a lot of people to understand that.Q. Is it true that you and your wife are planning on her having another baby, and by another guy?A. Yes, that's...
[Once again, this is for A & T, who's real-life adventure in Africa has inspired this narrative. Names and other details regarding who they are have been changed and altered to protect their true identities. Once again, thank you A & T! As before, I will use the structure of an 'interview' to explore the cuckold lifestyle.]Q. I'd like to thank you for agreeing to set down and talk with me about what can only be regarded as a very personal and intimate subject.A. I want to try and...
It was a hot summer day as Jack accompanied his mother on the country outing her office had arranged. After a ride of forty-five minutes into the hills west of the city, they had reached a park built around an old ranch. Any number of activities could be done, all of them boring to a young man like Jack back from his first year of grad school, but his mother had insisted he come. Finding the thought of yet another day reading more tedious than he could bear, he agreed readily enough, and the...
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