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The orgy starts, and Jennifer finds her love...

It meant that every day going to school (I never called it work) I had overlooked the beating hearts and voluptuous forms of the most astounding creatures on the planet. I had learned from a chain email that Lions can mate over a hundred times in two days time. Right then, I felt like giving the jungle cat a run for its money...

"Nice car!"

Slowing, rolling down my window, "Yea baby, you want a ride?"

She gave me chin and her backside; I appreciated the latter and kept cruising. I couldn't believe I said that! I would never have been so brazen just a few days earlier. Suddenly, my breath caught and my cheeks flushed. I felt like someone had kidney shot me. Without knowing, my main hand had betrayed me and was nursing a hardon right there in my pants. Was this what it was always like? How did I live to graduate?

I slowed even more and panned my head, looking through the rear window. There they were, at least ten of them, in short shorts and mini-skirts, appealing to the women who wanted to be them and the men who wanted to be with them. The red and blue of their colors bright and clean on their athletic bodies. One was astride a bicycle and I could imagine she pleasured herself on the seat... One was jumping and her breasts bouncing with her... oh my god... a newcomer arrived and hugged her friends, a leg kicking up in excitement, flourishing her skirt...

I was breathing heavily again. I had to get out of there or I'd drool myself into dehydration. Was my heart as young as my face?

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Rolling into the public lot and entering admissions, a manila folder with my information in hand, my mouth opened too far for normal. More of them, like trees in a forest, and I had to move forward to get past them all. Couldn't touch; that would be weird. Pink sweater, green skirt, and shoulder length brunette hair. She smelled like flowers and I wanted to drink her in. Blue dress and a black jacket with more cleavage than it was legal (in my time) to reveal. Behind her, blonde with a too-tight blouse & skirt combination and too many papers in her hands. I had to cinch past them and chose to give the blonde the front -- seemed safest.

I clearly wasn't thinking -- the blonde dropped the papers and bent over to retrieve them just as miss black jacket bumped into me from behind. Her ass was both soft and firm and my posture didn't stand a chance: I fell forward and spooned into blondie, my flailing hands grabbing side-boob. Time seemed to stop -- I remember wanting to thrust into the blonde as my weight fell on her and we toppled together. I also recall strongly the feeling of her buoyant youth in my hands, but I couldn't say for sure if it actually happened.

I pulled her up by the waist and then crouched and helped her gather her papers. Apologies came from all directions -- no attempted mugging occurred and certainly nothing untoward. She stood up to jot a note on her papers and I... decided to stay crouched for reasons that are my own.

The blonde giggled down at me, a more embarrassing sound I couldn't imagine. I'm a young man for the first time in five decades and what a success I've been. But maybe I judged myself too soon; Miss Kerry Straus passed me her note, telling me she enjoyed the "depth" (her emphasis) of our introduction. Apparently I should see her in the Psych department faculty lounge. Holy shit. One of the professors was interested in her students and I'd managed two hardons in one day.

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Everything I said about being proud of my fidelity to my wife, I hold true. But to my shame, I felt no regret about pursuing this possible infatuation. Maybe the change had done a number on my own feelings. Maybe I was feeling younger too, and that included a cavalier attitude towards sex?

I pocketed the note and tucked myself under my waistband.

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