There are several groups of old men. There are a number of women chatting; groups of six or more. When they come in, they have their nose in the air. ...hen the spot somebody they know, they scream, hop up and down with their arms outstretched and hug each other. Most of the tables are full. I feel I am justified for my selection.There a table away from me is a man; probably forty; red tie; dark suit; pen on top of his black leather bound notepad. The interviewer is doing most of the talking. He. Well, that passionate sex had never happened. What did happened was very intense beating off. At the end of the first month twiddling his thumbs he had walked to campus one morning and sat in the library for nearly five hours. A book on his lap in which he hadn’t read a word. His eyes had been scanning every coed who walked in through the main entrance. He just sat there looking, didn’t talk to any of them, didn’t even consider talking with any of them. Just looked and undressed them with his. Trying to help his wife, he pushed her out of the way to take the hit. But he pushed too hard and ended knocking his wife into the water himself. The guys wrestled a bit, but eventually both of them ended up in the lake as well. As luck would have it, no one had a phone or wallet in their pocket, so nobody was too mad. They laughed a bit and then started telling us to come join them the water felt great. As the us three remaining by the fire walked over, we saw them removing and tossing their. " It was at first, but I got used to it. I think I'm off to bed, I have an 8 am class tomorrow." Yeah, me too", replied Leslie.We had drifted off to sleep and pretty soon we had woken up, went off to our classes. The weeks went on and we had developed our own routines. It was nice of Leslie to post her schedule on the wall, so at least I knew when I could have some masturbation time. Even though I was fooling around with a guy, it was nice to orgasm once in awhile. However, I almost walked in.