Helping the Foreign Students

Following a tragic road accident, I was left widowed at the relatively early age of 52. My wife had worked as a Senior Executive in a major pharmaceutical company, and I suddenly found myself alone but very wealthy. I really didn't have to work so I took the opportunity. I retired early and sat back to a lazy life.

About six months later and I realised just how lonely life could get. Yes, I still had many friends who I regularly entertained, but without my wife it wasn't the same. And I especially missed the sex.

My wife and I had had a very active sex life, and we had both kept ourselves fit and healthy. I thought about going on the dating scene, but my main concern was that when partners found out just how wealthy I was, it would be the money that interested them, not me.

I was also not that keen on the idea of visiting prostitutes or getting in escorts to satisfy my needs.

Then, a couple of months later a small story in the newspapers piqued my interest. It told the tale of young foreign students who were coming over to the UK to learn the language. They were working in coffee shops, hotels, B and B's etc. during their holidays.

However, many were given board and lodgings by there employers and therefore they weren't paid very much more, so these hard-working students were not able to save much money for when they returned home. It was being described as modern-day slavery.

Having read the article, I was initially appalled, but also saw a possible way for me to help them and satisfy some of my needs to. I decided that I would like to help them and would pay them large amount of money (£1000 or €1200, whichever they would prefer) if they would spend a couple of hours having sex with me. I know it sounds like prostitution; however, they would be free to walk away.

I wasn't going to advertise for potential sexual partners but also thought I would take the opportunity of travelling the country, my own country, much of which I had never seen, and if I found a young student that I could help, then I could put my plan into action.

I decided that my first trip should be to visit the Dumfries and Galloway region of Scotland, an area I had never visited before. It has a tremendous history, being so close to the border with England, the home of Robert the Bruce and so close to Ireland. As a result, the region is full of quaint little villages and towns, not to mention stunning scenery.

Setting off for my trip in mid-June, I hoped that the area would be still relatively quiet before the holidays started the following month. With nowhere planned to stop, I was just driving through the area when I came across signs advertising 'The Wigtown Book Festival'. I had never heard of it but was very intrigued so decided to follow the signs.

About half an hour later, I pulled into the main square of the quaint little village. The centre of the square contained a large garden, but the shops and houses surrounding it were gaily decorated and to my surprise, almost every second shop was a Bookshop.

Parking my car, I began to wander round and discovered that all the signs I had seen were actually for the festival, which was starting the following weekend. Oh well, I thought, I'd get to see the place when it was a little less busy.

As I walked round, I came across a bookshop that also operated a B and B and a coffee shop, so going in I managed to book a room for a couple of nights, so I could use this as a base to explore area.

Once I was settled in my room, I went back downstairs for a cup of coffee and something to eat as I was beginning to feel a little peckish. While I was sitting perusing the menu, I suddenly realised that one of the waitresses was an Italian student.

Listening to her conversation, I heard her explaining to another couple in the coffee shop that she was over to learn English while she was on holiday from university. My ears pricked up.

The young woman, was maybe just in her early twenties, was very attractive, petite with long wavy black hair tied back in a ponytail, and that typical pale olive skin. Although dressed in a pair of jeans and a lose t-shirt, it is obvious that she had a very slim and shapely body as well.

Another waitress, equally attractive, but taller and blonde, came and took my order and soon my coffee and tuna sandwich arrived, and as I ate and drank, I continued to watch the young Italian woman. She had a very bubbly personality, and was happy to chat to the other customers, whether struggling over the language or not. And when she smiled, think Julia Roberts.

I had to try to speak to her and find out just what her situation was like over here. Did it match up to the newspaper report? I waited in the coffee shop until it quietened down and then as if perfectly orchestrated, the young woman came across to remove my dirty cup and plate. It was too much of an opportunity, so I started talking to her.

"That's not a Scottish accent?" I quizzed.

"No, I'm from Italy," she replied, smiling broadly.

"Really, which part?" I enquired enthusiastically.

"Near Florence" she answered eagerly.

"Ah, The Duomo, Ponte Vecchio, The Uffizi and Dan Brown's Inferno!" I started to rattle off, and at the mention of the Dan Brown novel, the young woman began to giggle.

"Yes, I visited Florence several years ago" I continued, "So, what are you doing over in Scotland?"

"I am here to learn the language a bit better, before I go back to University in September," she explained.

"Your English is very good, better than my Italian anyway!" I praised her, "So how does this work? Are you paid, accommodation?" I queried.

Her face dropped.

"It is more like slave labour. I have a room I share with two other girls and get my food, but because of that I get very little other money, just a little tips" she explained dejectedly.

"That doesn't seem very fair" I pondered, "So you won't be able to save up any money to go off touring around, or anything like that?" I suggested.

She shook her head, looking rather dejected.

"No, and I was hoping to earn enough to help me back with my studies next year or get my boyfriend to come and visit" she explained.

Again, I nodded in an understanding manner. But then, I smiled briefly and indicated that the young woman should take a seat.

"My name is David Jackson" I began to explain; "I am rather wealthy and had heard that students like you were in this situation. I would like to help you and provide you with some money."

I let this little statement sink in, as the young woman looked a little unsure.

"What is your name?" I queried, I wanted to be able to say her name as it might help make our conversation a little friendlier.

"Maria?" she replied a little hesitantly.

"Thank you, Maria" I said gently.

"If you were to get one thousand pounds, or twelve hundred euros would that help?" I queried.

Maria's face instantly lit up, then concern and bewilderment took over.

"How? Why?" she asked suspiciously.

I nodded.

"I would give you the money, to do with as you please, and I would ask just one thing in return." I paused briefly, but not for added effect, as I knew my next statement would be surprising in the least.

"That you would spend a couple of hours with me having sex."

I expected a slap on the face, or that she would get up and leave, but the shock seemed to be too great that she never moved.

Slowly, I reached into the inside pocket of my jacket and extracted my wallet, opened it and extracted a pile of notes. Counting out €600, I leant over and placed them in her hands, which she took instinctively.

"There is half the money, so that you can see that I am serious about this proposition. And I apologise if I have shocked you, Maria." I left it at that to allow what I had said and done to sink in.

Eventually I had to break the silence.

"So, Maria, what do you think of my proposition?" I asked the somewhat bewildered young woman, as she stared at the €600 in her hand.

"You are saying that you will give me €1200 if I let you have sex with me?" she asked haltingly.

"Yes" I replied plainly.

"I do not want to do anything you are not happy with" I clarified, "I don't want to hurt you or do anything weird, just some oral and penetrative sex."

It sounded so simple, but I could clearly understand the dilemma the young woman faced.

"But Mr. Jackson, I have a boyfriend back in Italy" she added.

"I understand, and this money would allow him to come over and see you, no?" I queried.

"Well, yes" she agreed, "but he would not like it!"

I nodded in agreement.

"That, I also understand. But what if he knew what you, we, were doing?" I queried.

Maria looked at me puzzled.

"What if you were to discuss it with him, and if you both agree that it happens, then we skype call him and he can watch."

I let that sink in for a few seconds then added.

"I believe that some men enjoy watching their girlfriends or wives with other men, he might like it?"

Maria looked shocked, but I could almost see the little cogs going round in her head, as she again looked at the pile of notes in her hands.

After a considerable pause she replied.

"OK, I will ask him. When do you need a reply?" she asked.

I was elated.

"What if we say eight o'clock, whether it is yes or no. If it is no, you keep this €600, and there is no more said. If it is yes, then we call your boyfriend, I give you the rest of the money, and we have some nice sex."

She nodded, but still looked very pensive.

"I will come to your room at eight and tell you what we have decided."

I nodded in agreement, but not too energetically.

I waited, sitting at the table as Maria left, mainly because I didn't want to stand up as I had a raging hardon, and my heart rate was sky high.

I now had a couple of hours to kill so went for a walk around the town visiting a few of the many bookshops that surround the Main Square. I also managed to pick up a few items that I hoped we might need later that evening.

Then I went for a light meal before returning to my room to prepare. A nice long shower also helped to calm me down, and meant I was nice and fresh for my young visitor. I also dressed in a clean polo shirt and some slacks, as I didn't want to open my door to Maria at eight o'clock in my boxers, only to be told that the whole thing was off.

At seven thirty, I decided it might be a good idea to crank up my laptop to make sure that I could get a good Wi-Fi signal for our skype call if needed. I actually preferred this idea, as it meant that our session could be recorded for me to replay later and could be held as evidence should anything untoward happen.

All was looking good, and I began to relax as I realised that Maria could still turn up at my door and say no.

I had lost track of time and was suddenly surprised when there was a light tap at my door.

Now the nerves kicked in and quickly glancing round the room to check all was OK, I went to open it.

Maria was standing there, and as soon as I saw her, I knew we were on, and my heart began racing.

I had assumed that if she were going to hand my money back then she would still be in her jeans and t-shirt. But the Maria that stood outside my room looked fabulous.

She was dressed in a sheer cream silk blouse, through which a lacy white half cup bra was plainly obvious, I was relieved as I sometimes feel that black underwear is a little too much and certainly would not have fitted with Maria's skin tone.

She had also kept the top three buttons open, so a considerable amount of upper chest and cleavage was already on display. On her lower half, she wore a very short, tight, black mini skirt, with sheer black stockings or tights on her legs, and a pair of three-inch patent heels.

She looked amazing. She also wore hardly any make-up, just a little bright red lipstick on her lips, and had her long black hair brushed out and flowing over her shoulders.

"Maria, Good Evening. You look stunning" I gushed, but still desperately awaiting an affirmative.

"Hello Mr. Jackson. I spoke to Pietro, and he thinks I should do it," she said quietly, lowering her head.

Gently, I reached over and lifted her chin so I could look into her eyes.

"I'm not interested if Pietro wants you to do it. Do you want to do it?" I queried.

A look of passion sparked in her eyes as if to say, 'yes, fuck Pietro, I'm going to fuck this guy, and I'm going to enjoy it.'

"Yes Mr. Jackson, I do," she said defiantly.

"Then please come in" as I stood aside and allowed her to pass.

Again, on entering the room I complimented her again.

"If you don't mind me saying again. You look ravishing. Pietro is a very lucky man to have you as a girlfriend."

Maria blushed slightly as she glanced around the room, spotting the computer, with Skype already loaded, and also the bottle of red wine and two glasses. I also saw her notice the small pile of notes on the Dressing table as she turned back to face me.

"Yes, the money is there, and you can take it now if you wish. I don't want it to feel like some sordid transaction" I tried to explain.

She smiled briefly.

"But don't you want to wait until after, to see if I have satisfied you?" Maria sort of taunted.

"Maria my whole plan for tonight is that I satisfy you. I hope that I can exceed your expectations." I indicated.

I gestured towards the computer.

"Shall we call up Pietro, he may be wondering where we have got to, and if we have started without him" I joked.

"I am tempted," Maria replied, as she began to enter Pietro's details, and I began to think that things might not be completely rosy in their relationship. As she entered the necessary information, I went and poured two glasses of wine and returned to hand one to Maria.

It took about thirty seconds for Pietro to come on-line, and a typical swarthy, olive-skinned and dark-haired young man appeared on the screen.

Maria and Pietro said their 'Hello's' in Italian then Maria introduced me to the young man.

"Ciao, buona serà, Pietro" I flourished, waving my glass in Pietro's direction, only to be met by a barrage of Italian.

I replied quickly, but in English.

"Sorry Pietro, but that is the only Italian I know."

Pietro looked dismayed, but I wasn't sure if it was with me, or due to the sharp retort Maria had given him in Italian.

"I apologise Mr. Jackson, Maria did not tell me you spoke no Italian, my English is not as good as Maria's, but I will try."

I quickly replied.

"As I said earlier to Maria, her English is a lot better than my Italian as well."

"Why do you want to have sex with Maria?" he asked bluntly.

"Why do you have to ask Pietro?" I replied, "It must be obvious, Maria is a very beautiful woman."

"Yes, yes, I know!" he stammered, as Maria looked like she would have killed him if she could have got hold of him.

"I was also widowed last year and miss female company but would like to use my wealth to help people, like Maria, if I can" I explained, letting the cat out of the bag, something that I had not wanted to do in case the women then decided to take pity on me.

There was silence on the other side of the screen, and also Maria had turned to look at me, but not with the pity I expected, but there was real passion in her eyes.

Quickly she turned back to Pietro.

"See, there is nothing to worry about, he is just a lonely old man" she argued, in a defensive sort of way. I wasn't too sure of being called lonely and old, but it looked as if we were on.

There was a little nod from Pietro, and Maria again turned to face me with a wide smile on her face.

Standing before me in her three-inch heels, she was still somewhat shorter, but she went up on her tippy-toes and gave me a brief kiss on the cheek.

Then, taking a long drink of her wine, she placed her glass down on the bedside table where I had the computer perched and then shifted the computer slightly.

"Pietro, can you see the bed, OK?" Maria asked, and Pietro responded with another slightly more enthusiastic nod this time.

"Good" she replied as she again turned to me. "OK Mr. Jackson, shall we begin!" and she made to start to unbutton her blouse.

"Just a second Maria!" I interrupted. "Please call me David, and I have a few suggestions for how tonight might proceed. If that's OK?"

Maria seems a little taken aback but nodded in agreement.

"OK, Mr...... sorry David. What do you want to do?" she asked inquisitively.

"Have you ever masturbated..., played with yourself....., in front of anyone?" I questioned.

Maria looked a little surprised but grinned cheekily.

"No, but I could" she replied.

I smiled back broadly.

"This is what I would like to happen first. I will sit in this chair here," pointing to the chair beside the dressing table, "And I would like you to do a slow striptease to remove your blouse and skirt but keep your underwear and heels on. Then you could lie down on the bed and pleasure yourself until you orgasm. Would that be, OK?"

"Mmmmm, David. That is a very sexy thought. I think I would like to try that very much. Do you mind if I put some music on?" she replied, picking up her phone as I took my seat on the chair.

"Not at all, feel free!" I replied, and within seconds, some slow Jazz was playing on her phone.

Maria stood at the side of the bed in plain sight of both Pietro and me, but from where I sat, Pietro and I could not see each other. It would be like Maria give each of us a personal show.

Maria stood there, her eyes closed, and then slowly she started to sway with the beat of the music. As she got more into the rhythm, she began to move her arms and legs more, her head rolling slowly as well, allowing her hair to cascade about her shoulders.

Raising her arms she began running her fingers through her silky hair, fanning it out around her head.

Moving to her face, she held and stroked it, as if it was someone else doing it to her.

It was incredibly sensual, and I was already beginning to get aroused.

Then, sliding her hands down over her neck and shoulders, she began to move them around her breasts. As she did, her movements pulled the sheer material taut over her lacy covered globes making the material almost transparent. So transparent that the pattern of the lacy material was more than obvious, as was the dark half circle of areolae that was visible above the half cup.

Maria began to stroke her breasts, gliding over the silky material, her nipples becoming more prominent. Then she started squeezing her flesh, pushing the globes together, and capturing her nipples between her finger and thumb. This caused Maria to start moaning quietly as she teased her own body.

Maria continued to toy with her nipples with one hand as she started to unbutton her blouse, her lacy bra becoming clearly visible. Pulling the material from the top of her mini skirt she then allowed the blouse to fall from her shoulders as her hands covered her breasts. With the material caught at her elbows, she continued to sway to the music, squeezing and moulding her flesh.

One at a time, she then lowered an arm to allow the blouse to slip off her arms and end in a pool at her feet. Now, free of the thin silky material, the contrast of the pure white lacy material of the bra against Maria's olive skin was beautiful; she had chosen her underwear for best effect.

However, her lack of material also revealed another surprise to me. Maria had a fabulously sculptured abdomen, and in fact, her whole upper torso was very lean but yet showed beautiful muscle definition. This woman worked out.

Her hands again began gliding over her skin, her abdomen, her arms, her shoulders and her breasts. Maria was moaning and whimpering now as she teased her breasts and nipples, her breathing much more rapid and a flush spreading over her face, neck and upper chest, she was becoming very aroused herself.