More lonely than he hoped, at first.

I underestimated the workload by half. Adjusting to a new community and independent living was enough of a change, but the added stress of trying to catch up with the other CS students nearly drove me mad. I had expected to be able to make quick weekend trips to see one of the girls, but I barely had time to sleep. It was October before I had time to call Talia, ask her things were going. It was late on a Saturday night and she was in the midst of some wild party. The call lasted less than ten minutes. I tried Amy next, but she groggily explained that she had to be up at 4 every morning for practice and hung up. It was only 10 o'clock, but I was too discouraged to try Elizabeth.

My program was male-dominated, and the few women were so driven and competent that I found it impossible to talk to them about anything other than classwork. So much for my new-found confidence. I fell in with a comfortable group of guys, and we'd get together and drink and sometimes play networked flight simulator games. Not exactly the excitement that I had hoped for when I transferred.

A few work-filled weeks after my abortive phone call attempt, Amy called and invited me to the first big cross country meet. I slaved every night before it to clear out my weekend and drove to San Fran. Amy instructed me to find a spot near the finish line and wait for her. It was a sunny, California day, and I was glad that she'd reminded me about sunscreen. Still, I had to wait a long time before I saw the first runners.

And then, there she was. Tight, red shirt, athletic shorts, bright hair streaming behind her like the Olympic torch. Her face was wet and red with exertion, and her pale shoulders were tinted from the sunshine. With an extra push, she took the lead. I started cheering her on, and she picked up pace, widened her lead. She broke the tape with a final leap, and collapsed into the grass off to one side. A trainer handed her a water bottle and she sprayed it haphazardly all over herself.

"Amazing!" was all I could say, standing over her. Red hair on the matted grass, her skin gleaming from the sweat and sunshine, she was a vision.

"You're fucking telling me!" she panted.

Amy was always horny after a race, especially when she won. She gave me her room number and key, and told me to wait for her to shower off and debrief with the coaches.

Finding her dorm wasn't difficult. The halls all looked the same, but her door had her name on it. Inside, it smelled only of her, in a way that even her bedroom back home didn't. Something about the generic space turned Amy made it special. The room had a bunk bed, but only the top bunk had sheets on it. Amy must have lucked out and landed without a roommate.

I laid down on the unmade bottom bunk and breathed deeply. It had been months since I had been so close to a woman's things, long enough that time spent in high school was like a distant memory. Across from me, the wardrobe was slightly ajar. I got up and crossed to it, opened it, and buried my face in the clothes that smelled like Amy.

Then the doorknob turned, and I jumped. In walked Amy, still in her sweaty running clothes. "Couldn't wait to shower. Kiss me, right now." I barely had time to move before she pulled me into herself. Her clothes were damp, and even her lips were salty with sweat. But the smell was intoxicating: purely Amy. I tugged at the hem of her shirt and she pulled it and her sports bra off in a single move. Her breasts dropped free and I broke the kiss to lick the sweat from her collar bone. The sweet taste led me down her chest to her nipple, which I squeezed between my lips.

She moaned, and made a request.