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College social life officially began for new students with a dance called an orientation hop. When I was a fresher, most freshers went, and for every new local student, there were ten or twelve outsiders in the packed hall. Most chattered nervously, peering around to spot the talent; there were the usual loud lads, made bold by a few beers beforehand; the music was too loud, or we’d say it was now.I was with my mate Mort, who unlike me, never lacked confidence around girls. I stood around watching (cynically) while Mort flashed his Colgate smile at dance partners. His patter was soon working for him, too; he disappeared into the crowd assertively leading a giggly blonde. Then I realised the blonde had a friend, standing just Ankara escort a few paces from me on her own. I moved closer and introduced myself. She looked up at me, with a smile that signalled warmth but also curiosity that someone was actually talking to her. Her name was Delwyn, first-year medicine, staying in a nearby hall of residence. From a farming family, fresh out of five years at boarding school. Delwyn might not have been the next Marilyn Monroe but she had social skills far more advanced than most of our age – she actually listened, she asked questions that showed interest in my stammered mumblings, she kept eye contact. And she smiled and laughed, often.It didn’t take long for me Ankara escort bayan to realise I was falling for her. And she wasn’t even trying to catch me.We quickly discovered we both preferred real dancing, not just gyrating; I silently thanked my sister for the dance lessons which had prepared me for the Leavers Ball not so many months before. We danced, lots. We talked. We sang along with the hit songs of the day. And yes, I walked her back to her new Hall of Residence. She snuggled in for a kiss, which turned into several, but I kept my hands on the outside of her clothes. Grandma would have been proud of me. Delwyn agreed to come to my home for lunch the next day, Sunday. Snort with Escort Ankara derision if you will, but we even went to church together that evening, had coffee at a student haunt, and then I drove her to a quiet park.Yep, it was steamier than the night before. When I undid the buttons on her blouse, and slipped a hand onto her breast, she whispered in my ear that no male hand had been there before. (Journey slowly and enjoy it!) When my hand crept tentatively up her skirt, and fumbled inexpertly with the elastic of her panties, she sat up and said ‘We just met yesterday, Tommy! You’re really sweet, and I love you touching and kissing me, but I can’t get serious. Nothing can get in the way of my medical training!” In my teenage churchgoer heart, I thought she was giving me the push. Almost in tears, I kissed her goodnight in the foyer of her Hall. She turned at the bottom of the stairs and called out “Ring me up!” but I didn’t. I’d climbed to the top of the world one night and fallen into deep despair the next.
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