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.
Lyndall, was still Sitting very very close to me as she chatted away about her family and her friends in high school. I prayed to God that she wouldn't notice the erection that my jeans were barely concealing. Finally we alighted the bus and made our way toward the boat. As we stepped onto the gang plank Lyndall grabbed my hand. Holding hands was safe, but something inside of me was telling me that it wasn't. The boat was very crowded but we managed to find one seat. "You sit down first" she said with a giggle. Once I was she sat herself on my lap, holding on to me as the boat moved towards it's destination.
Actually the boat ride wasn't too bad; my mind having overloaded itself with the possibility that there may be more to life than computers and a cosy marriage in the distant future. I rubbed her back and told her about the place where I grew up; she held on to me and told me about her house in Sydney and how the waters in the ocean were so warm that she and her friends would go swimming nude in the on their way home from the pub.
Once the boat arrived, we were separated. We broke up into groups depending on our courses. Of course I was disappointed; for the rest of the day through lunch and dinner I hoped to meet Lyndall and hold her hand, but of course (my rational part told me) my purpose at Uni was to study.
After dinner there was a "campfire". With two hundred people attending it's rather hard to sit around a single fire and be cosy; and about an hour into this listening to kids talk about their HSC artworks and how they wanted to change the world with the unique insight they possessed, I quietly left.
Behind the campsite there is a flat grassy patch called "Lewis's Green." It also possessed one of the best views of the campsite and the river below. In full moonlight I made the trek to the river bank, where I found a rock and sat still, watching the water lap below me.
While contemplating the stars and my future I heard a twig snap behind me. Startled, I turned around. A dark figure worked it's way up the last 10 meters or so of grass and sat itself beside me, moon at it's back. Without a word, it started stroking my hair and face, relaxing me.
Lyndall! I was happy to see her again, as I missed her company from the morning bus trip. She stood over me, while stroking my hair, and started to work herself out of her singlet top.
