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Chapter 1 – Fish For Dinner?
With a sigh Philip tossed the cigarette butt over the safety rail, sending it crashing into the waves below. It had been about two and a half years since his last vacation, and now here he was, beachside, without the foggiest of ideas about what he should do for fun.
Were he younger it would’ve been a simple. The clubs would’ve appealed to him, there were the beach events, maybe he would’ve even competed in one or two. Now at forty-nine, it was sheer luck if he even stayed up until three a.m. anymore.
That or he had the same recurring nightmare that haunted and roused him like clockwork in the middle of every single week. In the nightmare he died alone, on the silk sheets of a king-sized bed in his townhouse, Vivaldi floating through the speakers of the docking station that he’d bought on a whim one day while browsing amazing, and the bottle of twenty year scotch he kept on the side table, laid on floor cracked and spilling out onto the hardwood finish.
“Well, at least in the nightmare I’m a little greyer around the edges.” He mused to himself, thankful that most of the hair on his head was still black, with the only grey that dared to show, residing mostly in his beard.
With a chuckle he bent to pick up the parcel of fish that he’d rested on the boardwalk when he stopped for his smoke, and upon righting himself, the muscles in his lower back tightened, causing a hiss to escape as he stretched it out, then when he caught himself began his walk down the boardwalk, eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses as he took in all the sights as he moved between the sea of people.
Younger men walked by with tanned skin, perfect teeth, and wearing the same designer shades, and the smug, preppy; my father is rich, grin. Girls in bikini tops on their arms, fawning over them, and they certainly weren’t there for the money, because between the straw blonde hair, perfect teeth, and jewelry that seemed, in his humble opinion a little too obnoxious to be worn to the beach, it was evident that their parents weren’t exactly short of nickels to rub together.
Still, maybe it was just his bitterness. After all, love in the air always carried a slight air of sadness for him. Most of his friends had already settled down that or they were saddled with child support payments that totaled well in the thousands annually. He on the other hand had continued to party, living through his, ‘glory days’, he called them. Content to binge drink and blow through his trust fund until his father passed away.
It was then that his mother sat him down and with the sternest of tones told him to make something of himself, be a man that he could be proud of when he looked back. Now, looking down at the fish in his hand, flip-flops on his feet, proud wasn’t exactly the first word that came to mind.
“Professor Howard?” A voice called and he looked up in search of it, “Professor?” Tissue in hand and waving at him, he recognized the face sitting on the bench a little ways off.
“Vicky Larson?” He mouthed and she grinned as he made his way towards her, and noticed that she was three fourths of her way through a hotdog, and seemingly pretty content with life at the moment, wearing a pair of shorts and a halter top, ankles locked together as she swung her feet back and forth.
“Fancy seeing you here sir.” She took another bite of her hotdog and he nodded in response.
“I, ah, wanted to get some fish.” The parcel was held up as part of the response, the newspaper now a bit soggier that the ice had melted a bit more.
“Oh.” She replied seemingly disheartened, “I wanted some myself, but I forgot. Still, I meant, here, the beach. But good on you for fish.” She replied cheekily and he laughed.
“Right. Well, vacation. Still, how does one forget fish?”
“Well, I was walking by, and I smelt the hotdogs, and they smelled absolutely fantastic, so I thought, Vicky, you should get a hotdog, so, I got a hotdog. Then I realized that the market was closed, so, there was no fish.” She added somberly and he nodded.
“Sorry to hear.” He said, quite unsure of what to say next.
Vicky was one of his past students, and one of his brightest if he did say so, but he couldn’t recall ever having such a long conversation with her, or with any of his students for that matter. malatya escort Now here he was, on vacation, with melting fish and slippers and having a conversation with one.
Not that it hurt any, he’d never really noticed before, but Vicky was actually kind of attractive. With her slender figure and fair skin. Gentle brown eyes and a lovely smile, and her auburn hair was styled in a bob cut, really she was quite cute. Definitely pleasant on the eyes, a bit more than he could say for himself, he thought.
“Ah, what can you do right?” She shrugged and finished the hotdog, “So, just vacation for you? Not moving out here, like all you teachers do after some point?”
He laughed, “Vacation, not prepared to move out to the beach just yet. And I still lecture at the university.” She tilted her head in response.
“Really? I haven’t seen you around at all since my first year.” She seemed genuinely surprised.
“I actually thought the same thing to myself, it’s been what, two years since I’ve had you in my class?”
With a nod she replied, “Yep. Two whole years.”
“Time flies.” A drop of water from the fish landed on his foot, the cold drop causing him to jump, while Vicky found it amusing, “Right, so you’re on vacation?”
“Yep. I was supposed to be with my brother, but he bailed on me, took the money instead. So… he’s a dick, but, I’m at the beach, so there’s that.” She added a nod for good measure and he offered a polite smile.
“Well, I’m sorry to hear about your brother bailing on you. But I hope you enjoy yourself, you know? It’s my third time out here, and I mean, there’s still quite I haven’t done, so I’m pretty sure you’ll get up to something. Me on the other hand, I’m going to head back and fry this up for dinner.” He began to close up the conversation, eager to get the fish out of his hand, and replace it with a glass of something strong.
“And now, I’m thinking about fish again.”
Before he could warn his brain the words flew out of his mouth, “Well, there’s enough for two.” He wanted to slap himself.
“Really? Well in that case, I shall be joining you for dinner.” She laughed and tossed her tissue at the bin across from them, “Score” She whispered, the tissue landing in the bin, and he raised an eyebrow at her, “Played a bit of basketball.” She stood and pulled the bag onto her shoulder, “To dinner then?”
“Oh, you’re serious?” He laughed and scratched his beard with his free hand.
“Yes, I really do want some fish. I mean, I’ve been thinking about it for days, literally, craving it, for days.” She said with a giant sigh.
With a nervous smile he let the words pass his lips, “Well to dinner then.” Vicky almost seemed to bounce on the spot, and with that they proceeded back to his villa, Vicky prattling on every step of the way.
By the time they got back, he found out that over the past two years, Vicky’s GPA had remained impressive, she switched majors and that’s why she didn’t appear in anymore of his classes. She had a boyfriend named Joshua, but he turned out to be a cunt, so now she was avoiding him like the plague, and from the amount of times that she ended up tripping or bumping into people or things, he noted to himself that she was just a tad bit clumsy.
“Wow, this place is… Nice.” Vicky said once they were inside the villa and he nodded before heading into the kitchen.
“Yeah, initially the people were trying to sell me a timeshare, but I thought that I’d rather not have something I had to share. So I bought one of the villas at the resort, and funny enough, I ended up renting it out like 90 percent of the year so. Still sharing.” He laughed and placed the fish in the sink, Vicky still seemingly in shock as she rounded the corner and came into the kitchen.
“Wow… you bought this on a teacher’s salary, professor?”
“You don’t have to call me professor Vicky, it’s fine. I haven’t taught you in a while, and we’re far away from the campus, so you know. Let’s drop the professor title.” She gave a nervous laugh, “And no, not a teacher’s salary. Family money.” He shrugged.
“Family money? Well off?” She asked, peeping around him at the fish as he unfurled it from the soggy paper.
“Comfortable.” She nodded.
“Need any help, profes – right, Mr…”
“Just malatya escort bayan Philip is fine, Vicky. Call me professor on campus, and I think I got this, you can use the internet if you want. I wrote the password on the fridge. So, you can, twitter, or facebook or something.” She practically cackled at his statement.
“Add in a bit more callousness, and a jab at the youth and you’d sound just like one of those miserable old guys always complaining about the youth.” Even though he knew it was said in jest, the ‘old’ part stung a bit. Obviously he was old, but this was the first time he’d heard anyone say it to him, after all, his friends were as old as he was, and they certainly didn’t like to think about how much closer to death they were marching. Now in his own kitchen, he had a girl practically thirty years his junior saying it, playfully or not, it was still a stinging reminder for him.
“Well, whatever you young people do, go do it.” He shot the words at her, an attempt at being harsh, but her laugh signaled that she took it as a joke before she turned and left the kitchen, leaving him to take out his bit of silly frustration on the fish.
After the cutting and cleaning was over, he found himself wondering how best to prepare it, and after a moment of standing in the kitchen and rolling the thoughts through his head, he decided to pan-sear it and serve with some brown rice. So after a bit of clattering around looking for a frying pan that he never had to use, he soon had all the food on the stove and with a sigh he leaned against the marble counter, finally snapping himself back to reality.
“What the fuck are you doing, Philip?” He questioned himself, probing for answers but getting none. There was a twenty year old student in his living room, waiting on the meal he was preparing for her. In another world, he might not have been bothered, but now, he was responsible, and if this ever got back to the Dean, he could potentially lose his job, even if he said nothing happened, the circumstance itself was unacceptable, but then he couldn’t just kick her out.
Plus, it’s not like anything happened, and Vicky had been good company so far. Even though it was just a chat on the walk back. Anyway, she wouldn’t be interested in an old guy like him. The all too recent memory nettled him a little as he remembered her saying it, yet he found himself smiling as his mind wandered a bit.
“You really should watch the stove, Philip.” Vicky peeked around the corner into the kitchen, and he jumped before looking at the fish.
“Shit.” He hissed and tried to turn the fish, only to find out that it had already begun to stick to the pan.
“Well…” Vicky said before stepping in and turning down the flame, “Seems like you weren’t paying attention.”
“Thinking, you tend to do it a lot when you’re older.’ He sighed and finally flipped the fish, the raw side crackling against the oil in the pan as the two met.
“I tend to do it a lot now, and I’m still young. So, I think there’s a flaw in your logic.” She replied with a proud grin and he rubbed his thumb and forefinger over the bridge of his nose.
“Okay, you’re the exception, Vicky. From your days in my class, you never paid attention to much of anything that anyone else was doing, always on time with your assignments, and always ahead of everyone else.” She laughed.
“Please continue, I never tire of adulations.” She said and now it was his turn to laugh, a little louder than he expected, “You were pretty different yourself through Profes – I mean, Philip. Not like a lot of the other male professors, offering extra credit assignments, or helping classes.” She made air quotes for the last bit, “You seemed to just do what you had to do and go home.”
“I like to think, I made a difference, shaped a few young minds along the way.” He chuckled.
“Well, you did. People enjoyed your class. At least, I did, and it wasn’t for the eye candy either…” She paused, her face turning red as she hung her head in embarrassment.
“Uh…”
“Yeah.”
“That’s… Should I say thank you?” She laughed.
“It wasn’t so much a compliment, as it was a terrible screw up.” They laughed together.
“Well, it could’ve been both.” He flipped the fish again, “But you know, escort malatya you’re practically young enough to be my daughter. She nodded in agreement.
“That’s true. Very true… So, no kids?” He shook his head, “Really? No Mrs. Howard?”
“Nah, never found myself the right lady, or time to find the right lady, or interest I guess.” She laughed again.
“Too busy playing the field?”
“Yeah. Years caught up, still can’t believe I’m this old.” He scoffed and she smiled gently at him.
“Well… You know you don’t look bad for an old guy.” This time it didn’t bother him so much.
“Well, thanks Vicky.” He replied, finding himself unwilling to move and she stepped closer to him, “I’m still old though.”
“I know.” She stood directly in front of him, their eyes locked for a moment.
“And you’re very close.”
“And you haven’t moved.”
“No I have not.” He replied, his neck beginning to crane downward, moving his face closer to hers.
“You’re not too old are you?” She whispers slyly, their lips brushing and his hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer to him as all semblance of logic went through the window.
“I might be.” He replied softly before kissing her, his tongue brushing lightly against hers as she pressed closer, pushing him back against the counter and forgetting entirely about the heat emitting from the stove as they got lost in a flame of their own.
Wrong or right no longer held any meaning. Instead his thoughts were filled with savoring the tenderness of her lips, how her tongue flicked against his before she playfully pulled away, teasing him and making the split seconds apart feel like far too much until she returned her touch to him, but now he wanted more.
Squeezing her ass he pulled her up onto her toes, a slight moan escaping her lips as he did, his member stiffening against her, a sign that she figured meant it was time to move her hands to his zipper, undoing it and reaching into his shorts to grip him, squeezing him lightly as he continued to stiffen in her hand.
“Definitely not so old then.” She whispered onto his lips, and in response he grabbed a handful of her hair, and tugging her head back, moved his kisses to her neck, while his free hand undid the strap of her blouse so he could tug it down to reveal eager nipples that he decided were become long overdue for his attention, and quickly he covered one with his mouth, swirling his tongue around the stiffening nub, coaxing it to ripeness, before tugging on it lightly with his teeth, and feeling her grip tighten on his cock before she slipped into a stroking motion, and his focus shifted to the second eager little nub, fully stiffened and anticipating his touch, “Definitely.” She whispered, pulling his head closer to her breasts.
‘She’s enjoying this.’ He thought and reached out to steady himself against the counter, but was instead greeted by a stinging pain that caused him to pull back and cease everything that was happening.
“Shit!” He hissed as Vicky untangled herself from him and eagerly he shoved his hand under the faucet and turned it on.
“Are you okay?” She asked and he nodded in response.
“Yeah, it’s just a little sting.” He sighed, “You know things just got a little too hot.” With a laugh she slipped around him and turned off the stove, the smell of burning fish beginning to waft into the air, “You know, Vicky, I think this was a bad idea.”
“What?” She stepped back.
“Just, you’re a student, I’m a professor, with tenure. It’s like asking for a shit storm. You know?
“Well, I’m adult, on vacation. And what, you’ve never had a summer fling?”
“Usually summer flings are just people you meet, not the ones that you can potentially run into on a campus, or that people could lose their jobs over.” He replied and switched off the faucet, the burn still stinging.
“Right… Well… Thanks for dinner. Then.” She seemed confused as she fixed herself before giving him a polite smile, “I hope your hand feels better.” She said before leaving the kitchen, and moments later he heard the door open and close.
With a sigh he leaned against the counter and examined his hand a bit more, “Nothing that’ll kill me.” He thought, then proceeded to look for a glass and the bottle of vodka that he bought upon arrival at the resort, and after pouring himself the first glass, he moved to the balcony and took a seat. His mind wandering to Vicky’s lips, but then he began to count in fives to occupy his mind as he poured himself two more glasses, and dozing off somewhere around six hundred and seventy five, under the setting sun.
Chapter 2 – Redeemed
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