Chapter 1 - friday night 1

--The Present--
The local time was 4:00pm when I boarded the British Airways flight at Osaka International, and it would be roughly the same time when I stepped off the flight at Heathrow, though 9 hours would pass in the interim. I was really hoping to get some sleep onboard: the weekend ahead would be busy.

When you work in accelerator physics, travel to collaborate with colleagues is inevitable. If you refuse a trip like that which I was returning from, there are plenty of others to jump in front of you. Especially with only a phD and a few low impact papers to your name. It's a risk you can't take at the start of your career. I'd learned a lot and felt like we'd made progress during my 3 months at the HARIMA facility, but I couldn't wait to get back home. The thought of seeing Lucy again was by far the strongest draw.

Luckily, the plane was quiet inside, and the seating was reasonably spacious. At a little over 6' 2" tall and quite heavily built, I'd often felt slightly out of place amongst many of my Japanese colleagues over the last few months, and leg room was sometimes a problem in transport seats. Shortly after launch I leaned back, got comfy and began to drift out of consciousness. My thoughts turned to past times, and pleasant memories.

--The Past--
Samantha was in the tiny kitchen of our staircase chopping cucumbers as I entered through the main doors. These rooms were known as "Gyp rooms" at the College, for reasons which almost certainly nobody still alive and in residence could remember - the situation with many traditions in ancient institutions. Those that were of no use were largely abandoned, those that were still of use were fiercely venerated, and those that had no discernable influence either way simply seemed to linger. I deposited the two bottles of Pimms No.1 in the fridge, and dumped the two large bags of bread buns she'd requested on the counter. Sam greeted me cheerily, and gestured toward the pile of food near her with the knife she was using.
"Sure you don't want to join in? It'll be fun."

"I wish I could. As soon as I leave that exam hall tomorrow, I'll be right on it."

Lawyers had quite a reputation at the College for partying, and since their second year exams finished earlier than many of the other subjects (including the scientists like me), they took the opportunity to slightly laud it over everyone with picnics, garden parties and the like for those few extra days before the rush of end of Term celebrations began. Sam wasn't quite like the other lawyers I'd met at university. We were in the same year, had met on the first day we'd arrived, and became close friends very quickly. We shared a love for british comedy, and a similar outlook on most of life. It wasn't the fashion for arts students to be seen chumming with the scientists, it was largely not "cool". Sam later admitted that she'd thought I was gay at first - most of the men acting nicely towards her were lusting after her pretty face, long silky blonde hair and slim, petite figure. I'd assured her that she simply wasn't my type, and had said "I'm afraid I only like fat girls". Perhaps at the time she took it as a joke. Whatever, Sam was refreshingly open minded, and seemed to just want to do something useful and helpful with her life.

"I'm off to the library", I said. "Perhaps I'll drop in for a quick drink later. I might need it".

As usual, I had my arse kicked that day by abstract mathematics and difficult concepts. After about 4 hours I'd had enough of partial differential equations, lagrangian dynamics and classical electromagnetism, and sloped off from the library back towards my room. By this time, I thought, Sam's party would be getting going, though they'd probably not started on the food yet, the Pimms would likely be safely gone and no danger of temptation for me. It didn't do to get sloshed the night before a 0900 exam. My intention was to try and sneak off with a couple of sandwiches and not have to get dragged into too many conversations with the undergraduate lawyers.

As I walked across the grassy court towards my room, I spotted what could only be Sam's party: three feminine figures in carefully orchestrated "effortless" fashion; two men with oversized aviator sunglasses, linen trousers and waistcoats. And then there was Lucy. I didn't know her name at that stage of course, but even from perhaps 30 metres away, the first impression of her had a profound effect on me. Like some part of the mechanism of my life had suddenly changed and adjusted. Any thoughts of skipping the whole party evaporated. Lucy was sat on the grass with her back to me, wearing a floaty knee length pastel pink dress, shoulder length chestnut hair blowing gently in the mild breeze, legs tucked to one side, bare footed. There was a delicious thickness to her calves and upper arms, an ample roundness to her behind, and somehow most noticeable of all - probably due to it being such a rare sight on a woman at Cambridge - beneath the fabric of her dress the hint of a small, chubby roll of back fat bulging over her bra strap. I couldn't stop myself imagining squeezing it between my fingers, enjoying its softness, playfully nibbling at and kissing it. I knew I'd endure hours of interminable lawyer talk if it meant I could meet her, and bugger the exams.

The sight of Lucy from behind was arresting, but was as nothing compared to the front view. Her big brown eyes and bright smile were complemented by a sexy hint of double chin whenever her head was tilted slightly. The top of her dress wasn't especially low cut but that did nothing to diminish the attraction of her large, bouncy breasts. Though she was obviously wearing control underwear, every slight breeze that caught the fabric of her loose dress highlighted the outline of her soft round belly.

The rest of the evening seemed to pass in a blur, and though the company was pleasant enough and the food and drink were excellent, I was entirely transfixed by Lucy. We shared the usual pleasantries and a few conversation topics. She must have found me rather strange and a bit awkward, as I'd never been so entirely stuck for words as I was on that day. At one point, struggling for something to say, I pointed out her empty plate.

"Sam's really done well with the spread today, hasn't she?"
Lucy was suddenly quite enthused. "Yeah, those salmon vol au vents, they were delicious! How does she make them so crisp without an oven? I couldn't get enough of them..." she broke off suddenly. Maybe she'd noticed my eyes roaming hungrily up and down her bountiful figure despite my efforts to keep my eyes in contact with hers. Perhaps I was even slightly red in the face, I was certainly feeling hot under the collar. She blushed slightly, and smiled somewhat awkwardly. My heart sank: so many beautiful women had taken my attentions like this completely the wrong way. And, it had to be said, none but the most disinterested observer could have possibly failed to notice Lucy's hearty appetite. Sam did tend to massively over-cater for things like this, but the party seemed to have made short work of the whole spread. In truth, Lucy had easily consumed several more platefuls of food than anyone else present, and even if Sam had counted her as two guests she would have made a good account of herself. It was time to extricate myself from this situation; to at worst cut my losses, and at best salvage something from this situation at a later date.
"It was, uh, really lovely to meet you Lucy, but I've gotta go. Have to be at the Old Schools at 8:30. I hope we'll meet again, maybe at Sam's birthday party or something?"
As I lay in bed that night, sleepless, I kept analysing her words. Wondering if there was some way I could have obtained her phone number without it seeming too forward.