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For the rest of the year, I played the field. I went to social events, the local college bars that didn't check I.D., even picked up girls at the library. Some of the time, I just wasn't interested. Usually, if I was interested, I got laid. And the frequency with which I was able to meet new women was quickly earning me a reputation at the school.I was the Ultimate Playboy. I was the quirky freshman who at first glance didn't look like a stud. But women were physically attracted to me for some unknown reason, and I never left a girl sexually unsatisfied. But I never had a long-term relationship. I was the idiot savant, a talented sex machine but incapable of getting a girl to romance.***Despite my string of hookups and one-night stands, I always had the girls of Brown 106 to come back to. Many times I passed over a girl throwing herself at me because I just wasn't that into her, and I would rather go back to the dorm and find at least one of my harem waiting for me. But we had a. I took my scoop and tossed the full pan in a flailing motion so that the corn scattered. I put about another cup of corn in the scoop and walked Julie to the rail. She tried to do the same as I did, but being so small, and not yet totally coordinated most of the corn went straight to the ground.I picked Julie up and sat down on the chair and put her on my lap. I whispered that the deer will come in a couple of minutes, but the squirrels would be here quicker.After less than a minute, two black squirrels and a chipmunk came and grabbed some corn. Julie was mesmerized and covered her mouth with both hands to keep quiet.The deck door quietly opened and her mother softly moved out and sat in the other chair. Just over the top of the hill, I saw the matriarch doe looking down on my yard. I pointed her out to Julie. She snorted once and five or six more does with almost as many fawns came over the hill and walked into the yard. Julie was squealing behind her hands. The deer heard her, but.
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But aside from those occasions – EVERY NIGHT. Sometimes we find times during the day, too. Or at random spots in the schedule.Never. No man has the right to be this lucky.Aftermath. Simple, loving ennui.“Gonna be sticky.” She wiggled against me. “Wanna?”“Always.”Sixty-nine. Another for her. Back to cuddling, her face inches from mine, green eyes bright. “Always an angel,” I said.“Your angel.”“What’s on tap for tomorrow?” I asked. I already knew the weather was less than ideal, a warm, moist backflow off the Gulf of Mexico was running in to meet the next cold front. No rain until very late in the day, but overcast and damp and windy. Not a good day for recreational flying. Music, maybe, but that’s later in the day.Giggle. (a sign of interesting things. Not necessarily good nor bad, but certainly interesting.) “We’re doing the run-in for the new motor on the single-seater.”“Oh,” I said. “Munchkin stuff.”“She’s chomping at the bit, baby. My very first student. All three of ‘em,.

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