Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa, Consensual, Tear Jerker, First, School,
Desc: Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 1 - A romantic tale of a bright, over-weight girl from the wrong side of the tracks who endures bullying at school and has a bad home life. She finds a guy from another country who now lives in America. He wants to befriend and defend her. But will she accept?
Hi! My name's Gibby, Gibby McThomas and my short life has been a mixture of good times and bad. The good times seemed to have arrived in spades when my mum and dad won the British lottery and found themselves worth ten million pounds sterling, or in American terms, almost fifteen million dollars.
They decided to move to the US for an extended stay as they wanted to explore that country. That is when the bad times started.
A few months after we arrived and just shortly after my sixteenth birthday we were involved in a plane crash. Mum and dad were killed and I spent the next few weeks in hospital having various broken bones in my arms and legs pinned and plastered. There I got involved in a dispute with social services. They wanted to put me in a foster home and appoint a guardian to take over the running of my inheritance.
I fought this and the British Embassy and a good lawyer got involved. The embassy pointed out I was a British citizen and therefore did not come under their jurisdiction. It was also made clear to them that I was a Scot. The legal age of independence in Scotland is sixteen. This meant that under Scottish Law I was my own man and considered able to make my own decisions about my future and about my inheritance'
Since my father had invested the money wisely I had no real financial decisions to make. I only needed to realise some of the investments to pay the death duties and these were a lot less than they might have been. When dad had won the money he had split it three ways. A third was kept in his name, a third invested in my mother's name and the third put in trust for me. Further, quite a few of his investments were made off shore and therefore not liable to British tax. Now that I was inheriting everything the tax burden was much less than it might have been. When I got out of the hospital, I found myself an orphan and a rather wealthy young man.
Since we had set up home in a small town in California, I decided to apply for permission to stay and continue my education in the States. I was a keen golfer and a great fan of Tiger Woods and because of this I had wanted to follow his footsteps and go to Stanford University. I think it was this ambition and the fact that there was no one at home to care about me that influenced my decision. Both my parents were only children. Both of them had been born late to elderly parents and all of my grandparents were deceased.
At this point I should probably tell you something about myself. I am what was known in my country as a gifted child and soaked up languages like a sponge.
My mother was part Italian and she and my grandparents spoke the language so I learnt it at my Mothers knee. My Father had been a soldier and we had been posted abroad several times and I learned German and French from postings to these countries.
We holiday frequently in Spain and again I became fluent in this language as well. I never got anything less than an A in any of my other subjects either. In other words I was very bright but this did not cause me the angst that many brainy kids seem to experience in many of the US schools. It seemed to be more acceptable to be brainy where I came from than it is here.
I am not very tall; around five feet eight and of quite a slim build. I am very fit, however. I ran every day, lifted weights and played golf. When I left Scotland I was down to a two handicap player and had been bent on improving this. I was also into martial arts as my father had been and he had reached the level of black belt second Dan. Although I had never tested I could give him a run for his money when we sparred, so I did not have to take shit from anyone.
Fortunately part of my training and interest was on the spiritual side of the discipline. I was into practicing the meditation and self control which it advocated and practiced this as much as I did the self defence side of things. As a result I was rather laid back and preferred to try and defuse situations rather than get involved in the use of force.
Thus, at the start of the new school year I enrolled in the local high school for my junior year. The School was set in a fairly prosperous neighbourhood but had its share of mixed race and some pupils from not so prosperous backgrounds. From the first French class I had my number punched. Miss Revere, the French teacher pointed to the fact that there was a newcomer in the class then in French she asked me my name and where I had come from. By the way I answered in accent less French she must have guessed I spoke it well for we carried on a short conversation in the language before she resumed teaching, pointing out to the class that my command of the language was excellent and that my accent almost Parisian.
She must have said something in the staffroom for there was almost a repeat performance in the first Spanish class. Once the first class test in maths and science came back and my results were all 'As' I was clearly marked as a brainiac, add to this my obvious skills in the computer class and the word nerd became another epithet commonly used when referring to me.
I now lived by myself in the house my parents had bought and did not really know anyone my own age. I was feeling a bit isolated and having been singled out as brainiac and nerd was not making it easy to find friends at school either.
The house was rather large for one person it had four rooms and a kitchen and laundry room on the ground floor. Four rooms with two en suite Made up the second floor and two large attic rooms could be found on the third floor. There was a thirty three metre swimming pool off a large conservatory at the back of the house, quite extensive gardens, stables and a coach house. The upper story of the coach house had been converted into two flats, obviously meant for staff who would look after the garden and pool. The ground floor bit for housing coaches had been used as garages for several cars.
I had occupied the house several weeks before starting school in September and on one of my early morning runs through a different and less affluent part of the town I spotted a small bungalow type dwelling whose garden was an orderly mass of flowers laid out in different beds. It was obviously someone's pride and joy and I made a mental note to come back and talk to the owners and see if they knew anyone that might like some part time gardening work. It proved to be a lucky thought and one of the best decisions I had made in my life so far.
That weekend I knocked on the door of the house and it was answered by a motherly looking lady with a kind face, grey hair and it seemed to me, twinkling eyes. I explained to her that although I may look very young, I lived alone, was the owner of a very large house with a big garden that I was going to need help with. I said that having seen her when I was out running I had wondered if she or her husband would know anyone who would like some part time work helping me to keep my garden in some sort of order.
She looked at me for a moment on two, then made up her mind and asked me to come in. It transpired that her husband who had just turned sixty had been made redundant several months ago and they had been living off his redundancy payment which was running out. They were now eating into their own personal savings just to exist and keep a roof over their heads.
Because of his age it was becoming increasingly unlikely that the husband was going to find another job and they were thinking they would have to sell the house and perhaps move into rented accommodation in order to survive. While this was very unfortunate for them, I thought it may well be a godsend for me. I spoke to them for some time and offered them a job and a home at my place.
Jim, the husband, was the main gardener in the partnership though he was assisted in the endeavour by his wife.
It turned out that Mags, the wife, was an excellent cook and their house was spotless. I thought as I was talking to them that they might be a solution to several of my problems. I asked them to think about coming to work for me. Jim could work in the garden and Mags could do some cooking and cleaning for me. If it was alright with him, Jim could also do some driving for me as I was still in the process of studying for my licence.
I said I would have to talk to my lawyer and my accountant about an employment package for them and have one of the flats above the coach house redecorated and made ready for them. If they accepted, I pointed out they could sell their house or rent it out to give them extra income. They agreed to consider my proposal and come and look at the garden and the accommodation I was offering
I immediately commissioned a builder and a painter and decorator to work on both flats above the garages. They consisted of a sitting room, two double bedrooms and two small attic rooms When Jim and Mags came round and saw the work going on in the flats, the size of the garden and the house they were a bit apprehensive. I told them not to be put off and that I did not expect standards of perfection. I wanted someone just to keep the place in order and that they would be largely responsible for planning what they wanted to do and what they thought would be possible for them to achieve. I said I would also purchase as many labour saving devices as we could to make the work easier for them.
As far as the house was concerned, I pointed out to Mags that I was a pretty tidy and orderly person and all that I really needed from her was to give the place a going over say on the Friday so that everything would be in order for the weekend, and again on the Monday to tidy up after the weekend. When she was cooking for Jim and herself she could make extra for me, leaving it in the fridge for me to heat up when I came home and putting any extra in the freezer so that I would have something to fall back upon. I also said to them, if they felt fit enough when they reached retirement age and wanted to carry on I would be more than happy that they did that.
Eventually my lawyer and accountant came up with a remuneration and medical insurance package that they were more than happy to accept and they moved in just before the start of term.
The first few weeks of term were fairly uneventful. Having been marked out as a braniac and nerd I got a bit of hassle and name calling from some of the athletic crowd, mainly the American football guys. This did not bother me over much as we have a saying in Scotland, 'Sticks and stanes will break my banes, but names will never hurt me.' Translated if some don't get the gist; it says 'Sticks and stones will break my bones but names will never hurt me'.
Since I am fairly comfortable in my own skin this certainly applied in my case. If they did not like how I was, then that was their problem not mine. This was not the case with everyone, however. It was obvious that some of the pupils who got hassled in this way were upset by it. There was one particular girl who was in most of my classes. She was very bright and was going to give me a run for my money in the year as a contender for valedictorian. She was from one of the poorer neighbourhoods, tended to dress in baggy sweats and trousers and was a target for the in crowd as well as the athletes. Her name was Ginny McPherson.
She had caught my attention for several reasons. As I said she was very bright but she also needed to pay attention to her BMI (Body mass index). Though she had quite a sweet face framed by beautiful red hair, she could have done with losing about three stones. This did not show quite as much on her as it might have done because she was about the same height as me. But it was obvious to those who constantly picked on her. They add fat slob to all the other insults they threw at her.
There is one other reason why I noticed her and why it concerns me that her life is being made pretty miserable. To explain this I have to delve into a bit of Scottish history. Until the aftermath of Culloden where Bonnie Prince Charlie's forces were finally crushed, Highland Scotland was a tribal society that would compare in some aspects with the Native Americans. These different tribes or clans as they were called were based on surnames. Often these clans warred with one another and so alliances were formed. One of the biggest of these alliances was the Clan Chattan.
Under the leadership of the chief of Clan Macintosh eleven other smaller clans were in this alliance. Among those were the Clan Macpherson and the Clan Mac Thomas. So under the banner of that old alliance I felt I should show some concern about what was happening to her.
I digress here. Anyone interested in the matter I have just mentioned, go to Wikipedia, and look up Scottish Clans and then the Clan Chattan Confederation. Because of the clan system some members of some Scottish clans played a prominent part in Native American history rising to be one of the chiefs in several tribes. One such Chief fought with Sitting Bull at the battle of the Big Horn where Custer's seventh cavalry was routed.
Another, John Ross was a chief of the Cherokees and fought to keep them on their land around New Orleans when the government wanted to move them to the other side of the country. He fought this and enlisted the help of Senators they led the fight there.
Unfortunately, when the crunch came the vote went against the Cherokees. They lost the vote in the house by two votes and another tragedy unfolded for the Native Americans. They were force marched across the breadth of the country with inadequate supplies for their needs. It is an epic tale, but like much of Scotland's history a tragic one which is seldom told in the wider scheme of what passes for official history.
Back to the present, however. Things came to a head when no one wanted to work with Ginny in a two person project in science, so I stepped in and became her partner. We had a few weeks together without me gaining her trust. She communicated what needed to be communicated in class and although I tried to share with her something of my background she was totally reticent about hers.
Things changed a few weeks later. I was approaching my locker at the end of the day when I heard voices from round the corner and a girl was telling some guys to leave her alone. I looked to see what was going on and I found two hulking footballers were hassling Ginny. One was leaning against the wall she was standing against, his arms place on either side of her head with his face only about a foot from hers. I stepped round the corner and it was obvious she was terrified. I stopped a few feet away and said,
"Ok guys what's going on here?"