I’ve got a little story for you.
See, I’m not the prettiest chick you have ever seen, I’d give a five-foot ruler a run for its money and over the years, I’ve let myself go a bit. I’ve got broad shoulders and the arse to match and biggish round tits that gravity has been trying to take down for a while.
Anyway, I teach apprentices. One day, I got this kid in my class that stood out a little from the rest. He’s what many would call an Adonis. I looked at this kid and thought, ‘Shit, he certainly reminds me of an old boyfriend I’d had when I was an apprentice’.
I’d had to go away to Brisbane for some of my training and on one trip I had gone out with a group of other apprentices and I met this bloke. It was probably the five hottest weeks of my life.
I was a lot fitter and lighter in those days and I had been told, I scrubbed up okay. Anyway, I bumped into this bloke at the bar and damn near spilt my Rum and Coke on him. We got talking and I invited him back to the table.
He told me he was between jobs and occasionally did gigs as a gigolo. I could well believe it, as he was hot.
I laughed and told him, “Well, that was me out of the picture. As a poor apprentice, I barely had enough to pay for my own drinks.”
Nonetheless, we got on famously and he invited me back to his place. We couldn’t go to mine because I was staying in a boarding house and we were not allowed to have guests in our rooms.
The body was as hot as the face. The guy had the thickest cock I’d ever seen by then or since and he certainly knew how to use it. I was buggered more ways than one by the next day.
He would pick me up from the residences after work and drop me back in the morning or that evening. On the weekends, he took me to places in Fortitude Valley, Brisbane, I doubt many local’s especially back in the eighties, would have known about.
As much sex as we had, we generally just liked being together. He had a wicked sense of humour and a quick brain and liked to debate many different topics with me. He loved holding my hand when we were out or have me sit beside him so he could hold my hand.
So after five wonderful weeks, I had to go home and I kissed him goodbye. He had been a cool boyfriend and I missed him when I left.
Since then, I’ve had a couple of kids and then I married. Almost two years ago, my husband died in a plane crash and now it is just the cat and me. My boys have their own homes and families to take care of.
Back to this kid, we got talking and the kid says, “Woman are the ban of my life, just like for my dad.”
He was on a real downer. When I looked at him, I noticed this funny little kink in his ear lobe and I knew I had seen that formation before. I asked him to turn around so I could see the other side of his face. Confused he complied.
Yep, he had the same damn diamond birthmark just under his left jaw near his ear. I asked him to hold up his hand palm out. His pointer finger was longer than his ring finger and the tip of his little finger kinked out.
I smiled and shook my head. “Did you dad live in Brisbane back in the eighties?” I asked.
Now he really looked at me strangely. “Yes he did,” he told me. Then he frowned hard.
An expression I had seen on his dad’s face when he was thinking about an argument to come back at me with when we had one of our marathon debates. The expression I remembered well, as this Kid was a spitting image and about the same age as his dad had been when I met him.
“Shit! Your not her, are you?” he asked me.
Not sure what he meant, I said, “Sorry, I have no idea what you’re on about.”
“Where were you living when you think you meet my dad?”
“Maryborough,” I told him.
He looked a little in awe at me. Then said sheepishly, “My dad said she did something to him on his back that no one else has ever done since.”
I grinned at him remembering Arian’s sensitive spot. I asked him, “Can I touch you?”
He agreed, so I stood and went behind him and touched him in the same spot. A shiver ran down the kid’s spine. I went as sat back down and lit up another smoke.
“Fuck!” he said and then shook himself all over. “Did you know that my dad says that you were the only one whoever remembered to look at his face and not just at his cock?”
I laughed out loud. Having frank conversations with my apprentices was common as they soon worked out I was no shrinking violet. I would give it to them straight if the subjects wondered that way. As they often did with blokes, who were either in their late teens or early twenties, as the ones I taught were.
“That wouldn’t surprise me,” I said. “He had a nice bod. Actually, I vaguely remember him saying he had met up with a couple of his exes at parties and they had come on to him. And it wasn’t until he said their names that they realised they in fact already knew him. I knew it pissed him off.”
Joe nodded. “Yep, I have the same problem,” he said. “I broke up with my last girlfriend several weeks ago. We had been going out together for two months. I met her at a friend’s party on the weekend and she did the same thing. I was so disgusted I went home,” he told me.
Obviously, the reason for the downer he was feeling. I could feel his pain. To distract him and satisfy my own curiosity I asked, “So what’s your dad doing these days?”
He smiled. “He got an apprenticeship after he met you, same trade, now he owns his own business,” he told me proudly.
“Cool, he was a smart cookie. We used to have some awesome debates,” I told him.
“He is single again,” he told me with a sly grin.
Joe knew I was too, so I had to laugh. It wasn’t very often I had a kid trying to fix me up with his dad. I asked, “So how many times has he been married?”
He gave me a sobering look. Sadly, Joe said, “He told me once that he only married my mum because he knew I was his. They split up when I was four and I’ve always lived with dad. I haven’t seen my mum for years. I don’t even know which state she lives in.”
I touched the back of his hand and said, “Sometimes thing don’t work out how we think they should, huh!”
I had finished my durrie so we went back to class.
Later as we were walking out at the end of the lesson, he walked with me.
“Hey Miss, would you like to meet up with my dad again?” he asked tentatively.
“Damn! You don’t want to shock the bloke. I’m not the girl I used to be when he knew me,” I told him.
He looked me up and down and grinned. “Oh, I think as far as my dad would be concerned, you are.”
I looked at him trying to work out what he meant, but he didn’t say anything else. The kid worked on me for the next two weeks, whenever I saw him.
I only work three days a week out of choice. When I had him in class, he would tell us things his dad had taught or told him, in relation to the topic I was teaching. I knew what he was doing. I was even more curious as to why the kid was trying to sell me so hard on his dad.
Finally, on a Friday as we were walking out he said to me, “I told dad you were my teacher.”
I said to him with a grin, “Did you tell him I was still just as short but now old and fat to boot?”
“Yep,” he said.
So I punched him in the arm gently, you have to be careful touching you students, even as a Lady Teacher. He laughed and then on a more serious note he said, “He would still like to see you. How about you meet us for coffee in the mall. You pick the time and café?”
I was dubious. I haven’t dated since my husband died and wasn’t sure I was ready. I’d been with him for a long time and you don’t just forget someone you loved for years in a minute. “Just coffee,” I said.
“Cool, where and when?” He was striking while the iron was hot.
He had a lot of his dad in him I decided. I laughed. “The one across from the bookstore, at ten thirty,” I said wondering what the hell I was getting into.
He gave me the biggest grin and I could see he had all his dads’ charm. He rushed off, saying over his shoulder, “We will be there tomorrow Miss, see ya.”
So I get home. I was wondering what the hell I was going to wear. I one of these weird chicks that don’t actually give a shit about clothes. I’d worn industrial work clothes most of my life and at home these days I lived in a cotton nightie and wore shorts and a T-shirts if I went out.
My lack of care for clothes or fashion drives my mum nuts. I think I own a couple of dresses but I couldn’t remember when I last put one on. In reality, they probably didn’t fit anymore and I couldn’t remember if I threw them out or not.
So throwing caution to the wind, I dressed in my denim shorts and a nice fat girl type T-shirt. The same clothes as I wore every other day. I don’t wear make-up but do wear glasses.
With trepidation, I headed to the mall to meet my old beau. I saw Joe sitting with a bloke, who had the exact same height and build. He was a bit thicker with age, but still in good nick.
He had his back to me. I could see he had the same haircut, short back and sides, and the long dark blond curls on top. I had never actually gotten into blondes but on Arian and Joe, it looked good.
I ordered a coffee and taking a deep breath went over to the table and got a better look at, ‘the blast from my past’. There are some blokes you meet who just make you wet looking at them. Arian was one of these men.
.... There is more of this story ...