Help Wanted fliers

The next morning, I am ready on the bench outside the Student Services building where the Crisis Center was located. A little after 11:00 I see Riya arrive. She is wearing a simple white tee-shirt and a pair of faded jeans with holes that gave me little peeps at her smooth legs beneath. Little if any make-up and simple studs in her ears. It is hardly the high fashion look I was expecting from the spoiled daughter of a wealthy family, but it certainly got my interest.

She is pretty flat, maybe even just an A-cup, but I can feel my cock getting tight in my pants as I check out her slender body and long legs. It's hard to believe this beauty is really twenty years old, and I really like the young and innocent vibe she's giving off. As I wait for her to leave her meeting with Ja'mal, I check out the other coeds going in and out of the Student Services building. Some are pretty nice looking, but none of them look anywhere as hot as this Indian beauty.

The latest refinement to my plan is a neck brace, a pair of crutches and an inflatable leg cast. No-one gives a second look at the harmless old man sitting on the bench trying to catch his breath after limping along on his bad leg. When I see Riya coming down the steps noticeably upset by the bad news she got from Ja'mal, I climb to my feet and wobble towards the sidewalk. Riya clearly has other worries on her mind because she doesn't notice me until it is too late. The long-legged beauty bumps me hard enough to make me stumble and drop the colored fliers I had clenched in my hand, so they flutter all over the sidewalk.

“Oh Sir! Pardon me.” I wasn't expecting the posh British accent; I should have realized that coming from an upper-class family, she'd have the best schooling, but it is still a pleasant surprise. Just as I expect her to, Riya is scrambling around on her hands and knees grabbing at the fliers before they all blow away in the breeze. She manages to gather almost all of them clutched in a loose bundle. “I'm so sorry, Sir. I wasn't watching where I was going, are you alright?”

I take Riya's warm hand in mine and give it a gentle squeeze as I lift her to her feet. Her skin is every bit as soft as it looks, and each delicate finger is crowned with a perfectly polished nail. In spite of her plain clothes, I very much doubt this desi princess has ever done a day of physical work in her life.

“No worries, my Dear,” I try to sound as charming and harmless as possible, “After my accident, bumping into a pretty little thing like you is almost a pleasure.”

The compliment makes Riya blush prettily and her eyes drop to the large "HELP WANTED" fliers in her hands. The job description is for light chores around the house, three hours a day for $20 an hour. It's a pretty good deal for any college student, especially one **** for a job and I can see her eyes narrow as she plans her next move.

“You're looking to engage someone?” She asks hopefully and smiles up at me sweetly. “Maybe I can help you out? What would you need me to do?”

“Well, it's mostly light cooking and cleaning, and I need help bathing.” I nod towards the other end of the quad where the Health Sciences building was located. “I thought maybe one of the nursing students might be interested ... ”