I suspect an apology or two are due. I never really intended to write this story as long as this, but like Topsy, it just grew. I could not seem to stop once I had started and chapter followed chapter followed-- well you get the idea. It will take a few days for the complete story to come through, probably a chapter a day. It is all written but I am still checking the spellings and grammar etc for a third time, so it could take longer. I was quite surprised myself at the final paragraph. I am really not sure that I want my hero and heroine (?) to go down that route, but as I said it tended to write itself. One last apology, there is practically no sex in chapter one as I set the scene a bit, which is more than made up for later on when it almost got in the way of the little plot that there is. All the characters are of course over 18, although I think I make that clear on the pages. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it.
*****
An Apartment with Benefits.
Chapter 1 A Subsidised Apartment.
I answered an advertisement in the evening paper.
'Wanted. Young, attractive, outgoing couple to apply for subsidised housing. Send CV's, recent photo's and letters explaining your backgrounds and desires. Box 6969A'
Let's face it. It was an intriguing advert and my girlfriend and I could not afford to buy or rent on our wages. Who knew. It might be some sort of weird philanthropist.
I felt that we had a good case to make. We had been going steady just over a year and we were both living with our parents after Uni. We were both reasonably attractive looking. Put it this way, we were never going to get thrown out of Abercrombies. Frankly they wouldn't look twice at me after seeing Susan. Long reddish hair, a beautiful face and small but firm B or C breasts. Susan that is not me. Her breasts are wonderful but personally, I thought that they are second to her bum.
I sent off a letter explaining our backgrounds, where we lived, how, although we were not actually engaged to be married, we both accepted that it was likely to happen and a couple of photos of the two of us together. One was a close-up selfie we both liked and another full length with Susan in a short cocktail dress that showed off all her best assets. I hoped that, like the staff in Abercrombie's, they would not even look at me. The CVs I printed off were our most recent ones showing a couple of minor 'Desmonds' (2.2's) at insignificant universities in almost useless subjects. I also pointed out that we both had jobs, me, an apprenticeship to a gardener and Susan working in a supermarket. We were however both still looking for work more suitable to our degrees, in History of Art, mine, and Hospitality Management, Susan's.
The letter explained that we met at Uni, while we were both serving on the Student Union social committee. I specialised in bar-work and Susan in party organising. This was the business she was actually trying to specialise in, now in the real world. Unfortunately, there seemed to be an awful lot of students who were great at partying and they all were looking for jobs in this sector.
It must have been nearly a week later that I received an email saying that we had passed the initial selection phase and they would like to talk to the pair of us on the phone later that week. Could we nominate a phone and time when we would both be available together?
Sure thing. Of course, I had to explain to Susan what I had done. She naturally pulled a small hissy-fit about the photos I had sent in. Surely there were better ones of the two of us and what was I thinking of sending the cocktail dress one where we had been mucking about. Why had I not sent the boring one that we had taken for our parents albums rather than the one where I was pulling the hem of her dress up over her hip, showing more than a bit of leg.
I countered and said that it was very much an oddball advertisement so I had chosen a couple of odd-ball photo's. And anyway, it had worked hadn't it.
She accepted that it had and agreed that the important thing was that it might speed up the time before we could live together and she gave me a peace offering of a couple of inches of tongue. And a blow-job, but that came later as we were in her mum's lounge when I explained about the ad.
They rang on Friday evening while we were at my house, in my bedroom. We were just chatting and listening to music because while Mum knew that we had slept together she was a little old-fashioned and I get the 'while you are living in my house my boy, you live under my rules'. Both my parents were the same and in fact so were Susan's. I cannot imagine how they ever had children. I guess in those days it was grit your teeth, think of England and save up every penny to buy a house which were so much cheaper then nowadays.
Consequently we did not get together for sex that often. No car meant that we were limited to times when our parents were out or occasionally a summer evening in the park.
The guy on the other end of the line seemed more interested in our health and our relationship than anything else.
Did we row often?
I guess the flat had thin walls and the neighbours may complain if we shouted.
No, we were not in the habit of arguing.
What did we wear around the house. Our regular clothes duh.
Do you ever walk around nude? We live with our parents for fucks sake.
And then we got on to the personal questions!
How often did we make love? I wish. I can hardly remember the last time it was weeks ago.
Had we ever made love in public? - well I was not going to go into too much detail but surely the park counted.
Did we like sex? Of course, we were human weren't we.
I was just about to tell him that these questions surely had little to do with accommodation when he abruptly changed the subject.
'Look, we are sort of doing a scientific survey, a sort of lifestyle portfolio seeing how changes in environment can change people's perception of moral values and the ethical considerations that they may involve.'
'Oh well,' said Susan, 'if it is about going green I am all for it. Healthy air and lifestyles you know. We would do anything to further that cause. And well especially as we will be living together for the first time we would be able to give it a lot of time.'
I began to wonder whether I had missed the point in his explanation. What had he been talking about? Susan seemed to know.
'That's perfect,' he said. 'It looks like you have got through the second part of the interview. Perhaps we could meet up in London sometime soon.'
'Yes of course,' I said, 'but where is the accommodation? We both have jobs.'
'That's true,' he said. 'But both of your jobs are highly transferable, you could work anywhere. The current accommodation is a flat in almost central London. We have a couple or three actually. A couple of one bedded and a two bedded. How would you feel about sharing?'
We looked at each other.
I put it into words. 'I guess as a first stage or perhaps temporarily we would be okay with that, well, providing we like the other couple.'