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Sensualist Ch. 13

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Chapter 13 – The Last

Posted: October 24, 2014 – 05:55:05 pm

Arriving in Athens—Meeting Dolph, my roomie–Nikita, the Realtor

Before I ventured off to Athens on my own, I met with the family lawyers along with my mother for what she called, “A counseling session.”

It may have started out that way, but wound up being a veritable list of do’s and don’ts including her version of the Ten Commandments: Thou shalt brush thy teeth twice a day; thou shalt wear clean clothing on a daily basis; changing into evening attire after exercising during the day; and so on.

Of course I tuned her out, but when the lead attorney began speaking, I perked up and paid close attention to what he was saying.

“The University’s policy is for freshmen and sophomores to live in the college dormitories. Your mother and I happen to think otherwise, if for no other reason than to spare you the tedium of living with someone beneath your means.”

“Excuse me, sir, but where do you propose I live if not the dorm?”

“You are to meet with a representative of Colby a dumpling concoction of cherry tomatoes, urfa chili, ricotta, roasted peanut, flowering basil, and parmesan cheese for my appetizer and Wild Sockeye Salmon, smothered in elliot pecans, grilled scallions, charred peppers and petite potatoes … I had no problem at all in ordering an excellent bottle of white wine as alcohol can be served in restaurants in Georgia on attaining the age of eighteen.

After dinner, I drove onto the campus, found my dorm and met my roommate, one Dolph Adleroski. To my pleasant surprise, Dolph was also going out for the swimming team, and we hit it off well. He had no problem in accepting the fact that I was to be missing most of the time; and welcomed the news that he’d receive a small allowance for covering for me if it became necessary.

I brought some gear up to the dorm, obtains the necessary papers with which to sign in and asked Dolph if he wanted to go to the movies. He did, and we saw a re-run of an old film, before stopping off at The Globe Bar on North Lumpkin Street for burgers and beer before returning to the dorm and a good night’s sleep.

The Globe had a rustic ambience perfect for the quieter crowd–erudite grad students, and corduroy professors sharing an interesting thought or story over a slow drink. Pleasantly devoid of adrenaline-fueled guzzlers and shouters, The Globe offered a much more laid back and mature atmosphere.

Within an hour, the bar filled up for the dinner rush, I was happy to see a diverse crowd. The bar is sit-as-you-come, so it’s easy for a place to fill up quickly. We sat in a small enclosed outdoor sidewalk patio which was great for people watching. I would learn that after 10pm, the restaurant begins carding and is only open to age 21 and over only. It was on our second glass of wine that I learned Dolph knew a guy who knew a guy that would provide ID for a mere $50.

I took a liking to my new home quicker than I thought I would.

The following day I called the recommended realtor, Colby adding that I had a personal preference for something along the lines of a townhouse.

The receptionist welcomed my call and told me that I would be talking with Nikita Konstanty who happened to be on another line at the moment, and would I please hold?

I would, and did, listening to the usual rendition of Vivaldi’s Four Season’s that seemed to be everywhere that year.

A minute or so later, Ms. Konstanty came on and apologized for keeping me waiting. She had a very warm voice and was clearly very knowledgeable of type properties I was interested in. But confusion set in when I provided her with some basic information about myself. She seemed troubled that an eighteen-year-old would be looking for a home without the usual parental supervision.

When I thought it appropriate, I interrupted to tell her that I had all the legal backing required purchasing a home, and that my attorney had already clear that matter with her firm.

Ms. Konstanty apologized again, and after checking her notes found the document verifying my claim. At that point I suggested we meet and as it was fairly late in the workday that perhaps the following day would be better for the both of us.

Ms. Konstanty agreed, and asked if a restaurant on East Broad Street called East-West Bistro would be satisfactory. Not knowing anything canlı bahis about it, I accepted and agreed to meet her at 11:30 the next morning.

Wanting to appear as old as possible under the circumstances, I dressed with care for the appointment with the realtor. After pulling on a pair of mocha slacks, I spent several minutes trying to chose the right shirt and ended up selecting a pale yellow pull-over that would go with my ivory colored silk sports jacket and light brown tasseled loafers; and of course, no socks.

I was seated and waiting at the appointed time. Ms. Konstanty had yet to show. A friendly waitress brought me a glass of ice tea; and from my vantage point I studied the women coming and going, trying to guess which one was Ms. Konstanty.

Several attractive women came by, but failed to enter the restaurant. Perhaps she’d been delayed by a last minute caller, or had been kept late by another prospective buyer. Certainly she wasn’t going to stand me up. That would be most unprofessional. But why didn’t she call?

Then a stunning blonde got out of a Mercedes convertible, revealing a great deal of leg and thigh. If this was Ms. Konstanty I was in for a good day of house hunting.

But no–she turned to the left and entered the building next to the restaurant.

I looked at my watch. It was 11:40–she was ten minutes late. Were realtors usually this late for appointments? Quite frankly I had no point of reference. I assumed, they were usually prompt–and the reader knows, or should know, what that means, more often than not–and so, assumption aside, where the hell was she?

A Lincoln Town Car pulled in next to Mercedes, the female driving seemed to be in her late forties, slightly heavier than she should be. Oh well, any thoughts I might have been harboring about banging the realtor in return for the full commission on the townhouse evaporated. But this woman also passed by the restaurants entrance, walking down the street until out of my sight.

Now it was 11:45 and I was faced with the waitress returning to the table for a third time. I glanced at the menu and ordered the ‘special’, meatloaf and gravy with mashed potatoes and string beans.

Suddenly a vision in pale green appeared, striding gracefully across the macadam. Despite all the time that’s passed since then, I can still relate exactly what I saw late that morning. A very attractive woman with brunette hair, cut short and wearing large framed sunglasses was walking swiftly across the lot headed for the restaurant. She had a large bag over her left shoulder and carried her car keys in that hand. In her right hand she held what appeared to be a Starbucks coffee container.

Having said that, it was the fact that her sizable nipples seemed to be trying their best to burst through the summer dress she wore. Ah, but there was more–with each and every step she took toward me, the light weighted dress, combined with the gentle breeze blowing at the moment, forced the material inward and provided me and anyone else looking in her direction, with an unparalleled sight of her camel-toed pussy.

My suddenly erect cock knew who the woman was before my brain did; although there was only a nano-second’s difference.

I stood up as she entered the restaurant. She came directly to my table and said, “Mr. Clark?”

I was surprised that the cat didn’t have my tongue, and answered, “I’m so pleased to meet you, Ms. Konstanty.”

Her eyes quickly swept over me, most certainly took in the protuberance in my mocha slacks as well as the rest of my attire, and smiled at me. It was a lovely smile, but not the one I would come to know more intimately. This was merely her usual business smile, offering nothing sensual behind it, only the perfunctory friendliness in making the acquaintance of someone for the first time.

“Please, sit down,” I said, and she did.

“I’m sorry I’m late, but there was a last second call from a buyer and…”

“I understand I only sat down a moment ago myself.’

I was struggling to keep my eyes on her face and not the nipples. I also managed to put the camel-toe out of my mind for most, but not all of our meeting.

“May I call you Donald, Mr. Clark?”

“Yes, of course, and may I call you, Nikita?”

“Certainly, I was going to tell you too, but…” she laughed, a light, pleasurable tinkling sound it seemed. “I admit bahis siteleri it; I’m surprised that you beat me to it.”

“I surprise a lot of people, Nikita. I’ve had to head the household since my father passed away and my mother was stricken with breast cancer.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” she said as our server appeared and placed a menu before her.

“I’m sorry, but I ordered a moment ago.”

“Well, I’m late,” she said, and to the waitress still standing next to the table, she said, but I’ll have the chef’s Salad and a glass of iced tea, please.”

It occurred to me that she must have disposed of the Starbucks container on entering the restaurant, but neither of us felt a need to comment about it. Nikita took a deep breath and then took a folder from her purse and opened it.

“Here are a couple of townhouses you might like,” she said and pushed some papers across the table.

Our waitress brought Nikita’s iced tea and left as I perused the basic details of the first town house.

“You’ll see,” Nikita said pointing to what to me was a seedy looking building that I immediately dismissed “that here in Athens we have few townhouses available. I doubt you’ll care for this, but it is available and I’m obligated to show it to you.”

“Why don’t we just stick to those properties that meet my criteria and that are available?” I said, backing it up with my best smile.

“Yes, of course,” she responded, pulling out a second folder. “Let’s forget about townhouses and discuss homes. I’d say you want about 2000 plus square feet…”

I nodded.

” … three or more bedrooms, a den or study, three or more baths…”

I interrupted her, saying, “Pool, lawn maintenance are musts…” Nikita nodded and kept going, making mental notes of my requirements.

The waitress brought our meals to the table and we continued talking as we ate.

“I’m surprised at the lack of townhouses here in town,” I said, and shoveled a heaping fork full of meatloaf into my mouth, giving Nikita an opportunity to answer me.

“It’s primarily a college town. People living here tend to stay, so they buy homes. Students are essentially transients, who either live in the dorms, or rent apartments. Apartments we have in abundance, especially at this time of year. I take it you have no interest in an apartment?”

I swallowed the meatloaf before answering. “That’s correct. My reasoning is that I have the comfort I want while here at the university and that I sell or rent the property on graduating.”

“Would you be thinking of renting out one or more of your bedrooms–say if you bought a four bedroom home?”

That had not occurred to me, and I simply said, “And why would I do that?”

Nikita put down her fork and looked me in the eye. “May I be frank, Mr. Clark?”

“Please do.”

“You’re a young man, young men usually, and please forgive me if I’m wrong about this, but young men such as yourself are generally horny.”

That comment lowered the level, and I must have revealed my heightened interest in her statement for Nikita went right on with her pitch. I call it a pitch for that’s exactly what it was–a ploy to interest me in buying a large home, ostensibly to house a harem. I confess to liking her idea, even before it was fully outlined.

“Such a residence would allow you to rent rooms to some of the many females attending the university who deplore dorm life, and don’t want to live in an apartment, but prefer a house with a man running it.”

“Could you please elaborate on that last part: um, about them preferring a house with a man um, living in it?”

“I said ‘running it, ‘ Mr. Clark. Surely you have that capability, you told me that since your father passed away you were the man of the house, isn’t that right?”

“It is, right, and I’m intrigued by your suggestion. Tell me, Nikita; are there many such arrangements currently underway here in Athens?”

“Not to my knowledge, Mr. Clark.”

“Please, I prefer you call me Donald, or Don.”

“Yes, of course. So Donald, are you interested in such an arrangement?”

“I am, provided it doesn’t prove a distraction to my studies.”

“That would be entirely up to you, Don.” She pronounced my name slowly as if savoring it.

I permitted myself to look at her nipples, still seemingly eager to escape their confinement from under the green summer dress she bahis şirketleri wore.

She waited until I met her eyes again; saying nothing, and not doing anything to indicate that I’d overstepped expected boundaries.

“I have another condition, Nikita.”

She wiped her mouth with a napkin and smiled at me. “Yes, Don?”

“When one or more of the renters proves … difficult, will you help me get rid of her?”

“You want me to kill her, Don?” Nikita was smiling, so I knew she was joking.

“No,” I replied, “no killing. Let’s just say, she and I no longer get along, will you help me get her out of the house?”

“I’ll do what I can, but I presume you’ll have your tenants sign a lease, and there could be a problem with that.”

“So, do you–or should I say, do you know of someone who can design a lease that works in my favor, particularly in such matters?”

“I do. But I’m divorcing him.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry…”

“Don’t be. He’s a jerk–but I’d rather not talk about it.”

Certainly, but may I ask when the two of you broke up?”

“No, you may not!” she said snappishly, and made as if to rise from the table, but apparently thought better of it and sat back down.

“I’m sorry,” I said and meant it, nervously toying with my food with a constantly moving fork.

“It’s okay,” Nikita said softly. “You don’t understand what’s going on inside my head, and I don’t know what’s going on in yours either. So let’s let a minute go by and then resume our previous discussion.”

I nodded in agreement and tried to eat some of my meal.

Nikita broke the silence to say: “The reason I broached the girls moving in with you is that I have a house that lends itself to just that. You can afford it and when you decide to sell, it will move quickly. I couldn’t in all honesty expect you or your law firm to agree to purchase that much more house than you obviously require. So I brought up the girls as potential tenants. I apologize for that. I should have stuck to your basic needs and left it at that.”

“No–no!” I blurted. “I like the idea!” I hadn’t thought of it, in fact, it was probably the furthest thing…”

“But?” Nikita added.

“I like it, now my attorney won’t, but perhaps I can convince him by saying I might consider renting to an older male, say a professor, or some such person.”

Nikita smiled at me and I damn near melted on the spot. “Perhaps we should take a look at the property then?” she purred.

“Let’s do that!” I answered no longer hungry for food.

Nikita insisted on paying for lunch and I let her, for she agreed to let me pay for our next meal together.

I had a leisurely look at the crack of her ass as she led the way to her car, a BMW, about four or five years old. I opened her door and she got in, flashing a good bit of thigh. I didn’t linger overly long looking at her, but skipped around the front of the BMW and got in on the passenger side and promptly buckled up the seat belt.

“You have very good manners, Don.”

“Thank you, Nikita, I try.”

“I meant in regard to staring at my breasts and legs as I got into the car.”

“I assure you it wasn’t easy.”

Nikita laughed at that and lightly rested a hand on my thigh. “I have a feeling that we’ll become good friends, Donald.” Then after giving my thigh a light squeeze she started the car and drove to the house she was recommending I share with a girl or two.

Arriving at the house, I quickly got out and opened her door. It was very hard not to look at her lovely legs especially as she stepped out of the car, revealing a lot more of her lovely thighs. Our eyes met and we both smiled knowingly as she smoothed her skirt to make it slide down again.

I took a deep breath as her movement accentuated the camel-toe and the vertical smile that seemed to beckon me closer. This time she saw what I was looking at and did something with the dress that eliminated the sensual clinginess and hid her sex from view. It didn’t matter; the image was burned into the dark recesses of my mind forever.

“Sorry,” she mumbled, “I didn’t realize…”

“I’m sorry too,” I said, causing her to give me a look that told me she didn’t believe a word I’d just said.

The house itself was full of ‘special’ features. The kitchen was recently updated and more modern than the one I’d spent my life in. When Nikita bent slightly to show me a lower cabinet in the kitchen the sight of her dress stretched tightly across her shapely rear had me nursing a mighty erection that I tried to hide from her by keeping my body half turned away from her.

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