It’s hard to find an apartment to rent in London. Especially if you’re a student.

I was lucky to have friends who had set me up with a place that was within my budget.

It was a small one bedroom apartment, and it had barely enough space to store everything I needed for my studies.

I’m a graphics design student, who was currently balancing a masters degree as well as side modules as a photographer and also currently working as a all-round gopher at a Design firm.

Then there’s the weekend freelance work digitally touching up photos.

Why am I doing all this?

Networking, for my career, all sorts of reasons really. The big bad world now has evolved and if I wanted to make it in my industry, I needed the foresight to know what skills I needed. That made me busy as fuck. But it will pay off… I hoped.

The downside of living in a cramped apartment was that I had very little space to store all my equipment. Luckily Mom and Dad lived a couple of hours away in Reading. I barely had time to see them lately but I try to whenever I can.

The upside of living in London on my own, was the sheer privacy. Namely, privacy with women. I always had a high libido. I liked to fuck and women seemed to enjoy fucking me. I work out hard and made no compromises with my diet. I like to have the muscles to do the sort of things I loved doing with women. And I liked the stamina to go all night. I was blessed with a big dick too, so I had confidence in spades.

I laugh when I think about the girls I used to scare off back in the day. Some couldn’t handle a dick my size.

Anyways, I was in the middle of a photography job for my company when a client asked me for my portfolio. The timing sucked. He was impressed with my current projects but he wanted to see a range of skills I had up my sleeve. I could’ve sent him an email with my shit, but he was a big deal in the industry and he was eager to have a one to one meal with me and liked to see something in real life.

My problem was that my portfolio was at home back in Reading.

No problem, I told him. I’ll simply rush home after work was done, grab my shit and arrange a dinner with the client a few days later.

Sometimes, you can just taste opportunity and that was when you pull your finger out of your arse and go above and beyond.

It was a late Wednesday night and my parents wouldn’t be expecting me. I didn’t bother calling ahead because Mom would just fuss and make a big meal and a flying visit will turn into an entire evening. I still had other projects to manage back in my apartment before I can go to sleep.

It was a trail getting home. Traffic was a bitch and it was late by the time I parked my car on the drive.

I didn’t see dad’s car, but then again he was always busy at work. He’s a manager at a exporting firm and a lot of the time, he was away from home too. My poor mother was alone a lot, especially now that I was away from home too.

I shoved my key to the front door, and was about to call out when I noticed how suspiciously dark the downstairs was. I was about to call out for Mom when I heard giggles upstairs. It seemed like my parent’s room light was on.

I didn’t like the twisting feeling in my gut- I knew something was wrong. A part of me wanted to drive off and forget about it, but then I remembered that I need my portfolio. If I really wanted to be honest, I was curious. There’s suspicions, and then there’s finding out for myself.

Like a cat burglar, I snuck up the stairs. I knew the house inside out so I knew where to avoid to set off the creaky floorboards. As I got closer the stairs, I heard the giggles growing in volume. It was feminine. So it was either Mom or it wasn’t and I didn’t know which I preferred.

The fact that Dad’s car wasn’t here either niggled at me.

I passed my bedroom once I reached the top.