I was not planning to tell this story of my past, because itยดs not the nicest one and I banned the memories into a remote corner of my brain, but it came back to me when I read the local newspaper a week ago and saw a certain death announcement and remembered the name and what was my connection to that now late man...
Chapter 1
It was in the late eighties while I was at the university when I somehow had a streak of bad luck. I just lost my part time job as a waitress in a students pub when the owner got bankrupt and wasn't even able to pay the staff last month's salary. I spent too much money on a holiday with my boyfriend in an attempt to keep our relationship, but in vain; we quarrelled most of the time and in the end we split and not wanting to drive home with him from Southern France I took a train which ate up even more of my small savings. Finally it was time to present my old BMW 60/6 motorbike to the state security inspection and I knew without a new set of tires I would never pass it, as my tires had almost no more profile and looked more like racing slicks. To make things even worse was the fact that I always fancied nice clothing and shoes and went through a kind of "shopping orgy" to overcome my grief and anger of the split up with my boyfriend.
So at the beginning of the month I had to decide to either starve or "forget" about paying the rent for my small two rooms flat. I did that sometimes before, knowing the landlord; an elderly widowed man running a greengrocer shop did accept a later payment. But things did not turn to the better side; though I tried hard I could not get another job that allowed me to go on with my studies as well, the bike insurance was due and after a while I owed three months rent to the landlord. So I was not too astonished when he intercepted me on the staircase on late afternoon when I was coming some from university, asking me politely to have a word with him in his office. I followed him to his flat on the first floor of his house and sat down in the small room he called his office. I had been there before and somehow admired how the man was trying to keep the place tidy and in shape. His furniture was old and sure out-fashion, but I think he did not care. But this time all looked a bit deranged, papers piled up and dust covered and a saw a battery of empty bottles on the floor. He himself looked a bit worn out, he had not shaved, the collar of his shirt was a bit dirty and I knew that from time to time he was drinking a lot.
He lowered hi overweight body on a chair behind his desk, sighed and told me his sad story of times being hard and so on and on. Eventually he grabbed at a bottle of Jaegermeister, a strong alcohol made from herbs, took two glasses of a shelf behind him, poured an ample shot into them, put one in front of me and said that my rent was more than overdue and we have to discuss matters. He then lifted his glass, toasted to me and swallowed the alcohol down. I personally hate that special drink, but trying to be polite, I nibbled at it. Then I explained my situation, ensuring that I will pay as soon as possible. He sighed, granted himself another glass, refilled mine without asking me and went on talking. Yes, he can understand me and he always has a heart for students; he himself wanted to study when he was young, but never had the money and then married too young. He said he would like to give me a job in his shop but he can only afford two part time helpers, students like me and he cannot fire them just to help me to get that job.
I then offered to help him in the house, cleaning up the place and taking care of it or do other work. He was at his third glass by that time, looking a little gloomily at me.
"Well," he said, "that an be a start, but you know how much you owe me and even if I pay you a bit more than the usual money for a cleaning woman, it is not going to pay it up. And you know, I like you, but times are hard and I really donยดt want to kick you out of the flat"
A bit shocked by this immanent threat I stammered that I have no idea what else to do, but would hate to lose the room. He stared at me, swallowed another drink, opened the file on his desk and looking through it stated that by now I owe him about 1200 D-mark. Then in a low sad voice he told me that he is a widower now since 3 years and that he sometimes long for company and maybe, if I am nice, we can find a solution to the problem.
My back stiffened at these words and I hoped I misunderstood. But he repeated it, adding again that he would hate to expel me from my flat. He stood up; refilling the glasses again and taking it in his hand he came round the desk.
"What do you think, do we have a deal?" he asked, "if yes, let's drink on it!"
My mind was racing, pondering on the consequences; the flat was ok and close to the university. I was at the moment unable to find a new decent paid job and I hated the idea to sell my motorbike, which anyway would not help me that much, as it was old and as it was autumn, selling it now would not bring me much more then the money for my debts plus the rent for next month and a bit for living. I knew about some other girls at the university in a similar situation who were working in an escort service, but always denied that way for myself. I never was prude or shy, but thought that would really turn me into becoming a whore. And now this...!!!
But on the other side it would solve my imminent financial problems and I told myself it will only be for a while till I find another job and earn money again. And besides, what could this old man at about his sixties do? I had some experience with elder men who sometimes late at night came to the pub, looking for a student girl to pick up and knowing the psychology of tip and looking quite good I sometimes played the game when serving them drinks, flirting and allowing them little freedoms like eventually touching me when I passed by; though I never went much farther than that. With these thoughts I tried to sooth myself, telling me it will not going to be too bad. So I took the glass raised it up in a toast, looked him into his eyes and nodded.
"Very good,"
the expression of his face changed to a big smile as the swallowed his drink and put his plump hand on my shoulder.
"I knew that you will be sensible and we will find an arrangement. And, please, I know that you have some nice clothing, I sometimes saw and admired your look when I saw you going out, so please wear some like that in future when you come here. I love to see a woman dressed up like a woman and not like this."
His fingers gripped at the cloth of my thick sweater I wore together with jeans that day. His hand travelled deeper down my shoulder and along my side, feeling up the sides of my breast.
"Ok, I will," I said, rising up, "but right now I have to leave, I have some urgent work to do for my lecture tomorrow."
"Oh, yes, itยดs important that you do not miss your studies," he answered," you know I always wanted to become a lawyer or a doctor, but - alas - fate had else in store for me."
He was drunk by now and swayed a bit, as I stepped aside and thus got rid of his hand on my body.
"I see you off." In an almost funny looking gesture he showed me the way out of his office and to his front door. He opened it and let me pass onto the staircase, but as I stepped past him, he pinched my ass and said
"I see you tomorrow evening then."
I suppressed a sigh, just nodded and went up to my room. I closed my door behind me, poured down a big glass of mineral water to get over the bad taste of that alcohol and though not really in a hurry to do it, I started to read, trying to distract my mind from what happened a moment ago.
The next day went by quite eventless and I came home by five o'clock in the afternoon. When I opened my mailbox I found a piece of paper which in a bit clumsy handwriting said >Meet me for a dinner at 8 in my flat. -G. - < I silently sighed, being not too sure I would like the idea, as I donยดt believe that man is a chef. Or does he want me to cook for him? Remembering his words I showered and when it was time I put on normal underwear, a white bra and matching hip panties and a nice medium-long brown skirt and a matching blouse. I put on a little make-up and did my shoulder long brunette hair and stepped into dark brown pumps. I checked my appearance in my mirror and was content with my look; feminine but not provoking or too hot. I stepped down the stairs to the flat of my landlord and rang the bell.