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I hate it when they keep moving stuff around. When it comes to things like fish or produce, I find better quality at the local health food chain store. But the produce department here seems to like to move things around from week to week, I guess to create a more seasonally appropriate display. But I’m a pragmatic man, and I like to find things in the same place.

“Excuse me, I’m looking for dates.”

“Aren’t we all?” came the reply in a distinctly female voice.

I looked around. The person to who I’d asked was, or so I thought, a boy, maybe in high school, working his first job, sneakers, jeans, a baggy t-shirt under his apron, a ball cap, restocking the onions. But there was no one else around.

“I’m sorry?”

He turned around — rather, she turned around — to look at me. Glancing down my frame and back up to my face, she smiles and says, “I’m not doing anything Saturday night.”

Now I always like to flirt mildly with the staff because I can throw them off — too easily. It’s fun for both me and them. And sometimes, like in a restaurant, I can score a better table or an extra appetizer. But it’s rare when one, especially a young one, beats me at my own game.

Regaining my composure, I said, “No. Medjool dates.”

“Follow me.”

She leads me over to a display of berries that were in season, and pointed to the dates on the lower shelf. No signage — how could I have missed them? She smiles, and apologizes for her earlier comment, saying, “I have a habit of just speaking my mind.”

“Not an entirely bad quality.”

“But it gets me into trouble sometimes.”

She was cute. About five and a half tall. No discernible make-up, no manicured nails, a very wholesome face, with boyish clothes and personality to match. A tomboy. I don’t know why, but I’ve always had a place in my heart for tomboys.

“Well I find it a welcome change from the stale personalities I often find working in retail.”

“Thanks. I’m Tommie.” she says extending her hand. With a name like that, she really is a tomboy!

Taking her hand, “I’m Dave.” I am charmed, and I think I hold her hand just a little too long.

She breaks the pause with a,”Hope to see you again.”

On the drive home, I’m thinking about her. Crazy. I’m more than twice her age. Just a harmless flirtation. And once home with my wife, it completely leaves my mind.

Some weeks later, I’m shopping again at the same store. “Dave!” I hear, as I’m browsing the cheeses.

“I thought you worked in produce, uh, …”

“Tommie. And we get to move around. I like that; learning new things.”

“Tommie, right. And learning is always a good thing. I mentor a group of university students, and I always love to find someone hungry to learn.”

Somehow that piques her interest. “Say, I’m going on break in a sec. Wanna grab a coffee?”

Very forward, given our age difference. “Uh, sure.”

“Great. There’s a coffee roasterie half a block south. Five minutes?”

Man, what am I doing? “I’ll throw the groceries in the car and see you there.”

Walking into the roasterie, I find her already ordering. I step up and tell the cashier that I’ll cover hers and mine. “Thanks”, she says. “Really.”

She’s still cute. Maybe cuter than before. Her dark, brown hair is short. Really short. It wasn’t too many years ago that mine was longer than hers is now. And her dark brown eyes just pull me right in.

“So why the coffee date?”

“Oh, nothing really. I just liked that you take an interest in students. I’m a senior, majoring in biology. Thinking of a master’s in genetics.”


“I love it. And, I dunno, something about you struck me. You’re kinda cool. So I thought I’d like to know this guy.”

What? I’m cool? A man old enough to be her father? We talk about her studies, and her life. Parents divorced. Money problems. But she was sharp enough to get a full ride scholarship. Work at the health food store is a combination of a desire for a little spending money and to live off campus. She says she loves the outdoors. So do I. And on. And on.

She notices the time and says she has to get back to work. Standing up, she squeezes my hand, thanks me again for the coffee, and she’s gone.

Driving home, she’s on my mind again. But this time, she stays on my mind, even after having a nice dinner with my wife. I have a good life, love my wife, and I believe she loves me. But things just aren’t the same, just not as I thought they would be. OK, I’ll admit, the sex has faded. We haven’t been intimate for years. So that night, I’m still thinking of Tommie as I fall asleep.

A couple of weeks later — yes, I’m looking for her as I’m wandering the store — I find her working cashier.

“Can’t stay away from me?” She’s flirting again.

“No, I’m hooked,” I fire back.

“Say, I’m off in a few hours. Wanna grab a beer?”

“Love to.”

We’re at a dive she suggested close to the university. Typical college crowd. Yet, she’s acting like she seems out of place. Hell, I seem out of place. She’s changed out of her trademark baggie t-shirt, and is wearing a snug tank top. Nice. She’s slim at the waist, tight little butt, but her bust line is clearly her dominant measurement. Nicely shaped too, round, firm, with her nipples slightly poking out. She notices me looking and smiles. We drinking some wimpy beer; they have nothing special here.

“So, you often throw yourself at older guys? I’m sorry, that wasn’t nice.”

“Hey, you’re speaking your mind. You said it’s a good quality. No harm. Besides, I like the mental and emotional maturity of an older man. Older anyone, actually. I connect more with my professors than my own damn classmates. And guys my age? They’re so immature. They want girls to be, well, girly, with makeup, tight skirts, and stiletto heels. Screw that! Why can’t they accept us as we are? They don’t ever get all dolled up. They can be slobs.”

“So you’d rather spend time with me?”

“Damn right. You’re intelligent, but you’re not judgmental. And you give a shit about kids like me trying to get ahead of all of those losers. And you’re kinda cute.”

“The other day, you said I was ‘kinda cool’?”


“So why did you suggest this place if it’s not your crowd?”

“No car and it’s walking distance for me. You know some place better?”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-one. What’s it matter?”

“Then let’s go someplace to grab a cocktail.” She beams.

“Wait, aren’t I under dressed?” I smile and shake my head ‘no’.

We get into my car and drive downtown to a place that knows more than rum and coke. I hold the door and guide her in with my hand on the small of her back, and she give me a look of surprise.

“What’s the matter?”

“Nobody ever does that for me.”

“You disapprove?”

“No. No, keep it up.”

“You’re strong and independent, so I wondered if you’d appreciate.”

She burns her eyes into mine. “I am a woman.”

“So I’ve noticed,” glancing at her bust line again.

After we get our drinks, I inquire, “Guys don’t hold doors for you on campus?”

“I told you, they’re all so immature. And they’re intimidated by intelligence. All of ’em.”

“Whoa, slow down. Remember, that’s my gender, too. Besides, I like intelligent women.”

“And they can’t make a girl come if their lives depended on it.”

Damn near had my drink coming out of my nose with that one.

“Sorry, I’m speaking my mind again. Getting into trouble again.”

“I thought we agreed; it’s not a bad quality.”

“But you’re different.”

“How do you know?”

“Well, maybe I don’t.” Then she leans in close, pressing her leg against mine. “I haven’t been to bed with you.”

I’m glad I wasn’t taking a drink that time. “I think we should change the subject. So how’d you come by the name Tommie?”

“My real name’s Tomiko. Mom’s Japanese, Dad was American.”

“Really? I wouldn’t have thought anything but full blooded Caucasian.”

“Dad’s genes were strong. Maybe that’s why I’m so butch. Anyway, Tomiko is Japanese for beautiful girl. Look at me. Am I beautiful?”

“Well, yes, actually.”

“You’re just trying to be sweet. But I’ll let you.”

“They always say that beauty is in the eyes of the beholder,…”

“Gag me”, she interrupts.

I pull her chin so she’s facing me, and now I burn my eyes into hers. “And what I’m beholding at this moment…”

A smile slowly reveals itself. “Thank you. But I thought we’d changed the subject.”

“Your turn to pick one.”

“Okay. Outdoors. You said you like the outdoors.”

“I do.”

“You like hiking up in the mountains?”

“Love it.”

“Want to go up on Sunday?”

“Uh, sure, we could do that. The weather’s supposed to be great.”

We make our plans, and continue chatting, as we savor our drinks. She again laments about her lack of romance, which gets me talking up the problems in my marriage.

I offer to drive her home. She accepts, saying I can’t come up. She has roommates.

“Do you assume I’m going to take advantage of you?” She just smiles.

That night in bed, my wife is asleep at my side, and I can only think of Tommie. And how amazing she looked in that tank top. My hand finds my dick. It’s semi-hard, like it was back in the bar. This is crazy. I’m old enough to be her father. But now this is just a harmless fantasy. So I’m caressing my dick while thinking about Tommie. It’s her hand, not mine. Her small fingers. Making it feel good. Making it harder. Her hand. Because mine are on her breasts. Kneading them. Tickling her nipples. She leans forward and I take those nipples into my mouth, while she lowers herself onto my throbbing dick. It slides in. Oh, Tommie. You’re so good. So good to me. I quietly slip out of bed and go to the bathroom, seeking release.

On Sunday, we are hiking up a mountain trail. Tommie’s looking great in a pair of shorts. Slim, lean legs, just slightly muscular. Unfortunately, she’s back to that baggy t-shirt.

Beyond a waterfall, which is most people’s destination, the crowd thins out considerably. At one of several stream crossings, she says, “Hey Dave, come over here and look at this.” She’s squatting down with the water flowing around her boots. “What do you see?”

“A beautiful stream, some mossy rocks.”

“No, down here, in the water, right at your feet.”

I squat. “Little bugs swimming around?”

“That’s a mayfly nymph. That one’s a damselfly. Ooh, over there is a dragonfly nymph.”

“He’s ugly.”

“But he’ll be beautiful one day.”

“And that’s something beautiful about you, Tommie. You have a passion for things that interest you and love to share that with someone.”

“The boys at school would just say I’m being nerdy.”

“No, this is cool. I have an innate curiosity. But I never studied aquatic biology and wouldn’t have known who or what these little guys are. This is very enlightening.”

She stares at me in doubt, as if I’m only patronizing her. So I squeeze her shoulder and say, “Really, Tommie. I mean that.”

She gives me a kiss on the cheek, jumps to her feet, and is bounding up the trail again.

We reach a little lake high up in a glacial cirque. I suggest breaking out the lunch we packed, but Tommie says she knows a better place. She leads me up a deer path, away from the lake.

“This isn’t a marked trail on my map.”

“Social trail. Not official. More private.”

This unofficial trail is steep, and the sun is now directly overhead. I comment that it’s getting hot.

“So take your shirt off”, Tommie says.

So I drop my pack and pull it over my head only to see that Tommie’s doing the same.

“What are you doing?” I ask, incredulously.

“I’m hot, too.”

“But you’re …”, and I stammer.

“I’m a woman. Didn’t we cover that back at the bar? Besides, it’s not like you haven’t seen boobs before. Uh, you have seen boobs before, right?” She smiled slyly.

She’s beautiful. Her boobs. Her breasts. They’re beautiful. I remembered how she filled out that tank top the other day. But my, oh, my, they have that firm shape all on their own. No bra needed. Oh, to be young again.

I try not to think about this too much. Walking is getting a little uncomfortable now in my state of now semi-arousal. Fortunately, she is walking either behind me, or In front facing the other way.

We soon arrive at her intended destination, a grassy patch on a ledge high above the lake we were at earlier. The view was stunning. All around us were snow-capped peaks and snowfields with silvery threads of meltwater feeding the lake below us. Simply gorgeous. No, the real geography, not Tommie’s. We’d both already put our shirts back on.

Time to eat. “Guess what I have?” Tommie asked.


“Dates! That’s how we met.”

“You are sweet.”

“And guess what else.”

“What?” I asked again.


“You packed a bottle of wine up here.”

“No, silly, you did.” I was puzzled. “I slipped into your pack when you were tying your boots back at the car.”

“You naughty girl.”

“Oh, you have no idea.”

And so we dine — and we wine — in nature’s glory. As we progress through the bottle, we get more silly. And as we finish it, we get, well, …

I’m leaning back against a rock. Tommie crawls over to me, turns, and sits between my legs, leaning back against my chest. Her hair tickles my face as the breeze tossed it around. It smelled nice. She takes my hands and pulls my arms around her and I lock my fingers together on her stomach, her hands resting on top of mine. I’m surprised. It feels so nice, to hold her close. It doesn’t feel completely right, but it does feel nice.

After a few minutes, Tommie inquires, “Dave, have you ever been with another woman? I mean during your marriage, since you two started having problems.”


“Why not?”

“I don’t know. I suppose I’ve thought about it. But, no. Never followed through.”

“And why not?”

I took a breath to speak, but stopped. I didn’t have an answer. Maybe there wasn’t an answer.

After sitting like that for several more minutes, Tommie pulls my fingers apart, and brings my palms up to her breasts. I try to pull them away, but she’s quick and her grip strong, at least strong enough to overcome what feeble resistance I’m feigning. And so I cup them from underneath. They’re as firm as I had envisioned in the bar. They’re as firm as I had observed when she had taken off her shirt earlier. And yet they’re soft and supple, and yielding to my caresses, which made her moan softly. I slide my hands a little higher, no guidance from her this time, to where I can feel her nipples, which are already standing at attention.

Tommie then tugs at her shirt. I lift my hands slightly to allow her to pull the fabric up past her breasts, and back down with my hands now inside of her shirt. My God they are so smooth. And her nipples are dancing between my fingers.

“Tommie,” I say slowly. “I don’t know if we should be …”

But before I could finish, she’s quickly turned around and planted her lips on mine to silence me. I’m now holding her with her shoulders perpendicular to mine, one hand on her back, the other still with her breasts, both still inside of her shirt. Our tongues begin to explore each other’s lips. With my hand that remains in front, I’m slowly running my fingers up and down between her breasts as they’re pressed together. She pulls back just a little, leaving our noses touching.

“But Tommie, this isn’t…”

She doesn’t let me finish. “Dave, you keep telling me to speak my mind. Now speak yours.”

So after thinking a moment, “Tommie, you are very much a woman, a very beautiful woman, and you’ve stirred desires in me that I’ve suppressed for too long.”

“Ooh, I like that. But let’s get more to the point. What’s really on your mind? At this second. And stop beating around the bush.”

“Tommie, my dick is hard for you.”

“Now we’re getting somewhere.” And she rises to her knees and peels her shirt off again. This time, since she’s on her knees between my legs, her youthful breasts are at eye level, mere inches away. They’re near perfect spheres. Her areolae are the size of half-dollars. Dark and slightly ringed in pink, they puff out slightly from the rest of each breast. At their centers are two pink pencil eraser nipples, begging to be kissed, to be suckled. There’s no turning back now. My self-control went away with her shirt. She puts her hands on my shoulders and leans forward, so my nose presses into her cleavage and I inhale deeply.

“You like?”

“Oh Tommie, words cannot describe.”

I bring my hands up to them, deftly tracing their shape with my fingers, contemplating their color, their texture, how they yield to my gentle squeezing. Tommie takes my chin in one hand and guides my lips to one of her needy nipples, and I gently rub it between my lips. Then, while slightly opening my mouth, I suck it in, engulfing the entire areola, and swirl my tongue in circles around the nipple. Tommie is purring like a kitten. Then I repeat the process on the other one. Oh what an irony of nature that a woman has two of these delights but a man has only one mouth to suckle them.

I begin sliding my hands down her sides to her shorts. Tucking my fingers into the waistband, I slide them around to the front. I unfasten the button and pull the zipper down. Since she’s still on her knees, I’m able to slide her shorts down over her hips. Her thighs are silky smooth, and I bring one hand up between them as she shifts her legs apart to give me more access. I find her panties pleasantly moist. I cup her entire vulva in my hand, and she moans in pleasure.

Finally, she stands up, kicks her shorts aside, and pulls my shirt off over my head. Back down on her knees again, she starts unfastening my belt.

“Tommie, I didn’t plan on this. I didn’t come prepared.” She’s working on the button.

“It’s OK. I’m on the pill,” as she’s pulling the zipper down.

“But pregnancy is only one concern.”

“Dave, I’ve only been with a few guys, and I always made them wear rubbers because I had no idea where they’ve been. So I think I’ve kept myself clean. And you have been with only your wife for … how many years?”

With that, I lift my butt and she pulls my shorts and briefs off together. My dick springs free, and I’m suddenly more naked than she is.

“Wow, Dave. There’s something else that sets you apart from BOYS (her emphasis) at school”, as she takes my dick in small her hands. “They are not this big.”

Smiling at her new plaything, and the state it’s in, she dances her little fingers along its length, exploring all the nooks and crannies and bulging veins, which only makes it bigger, harder, and the head more purple. Pleased with my response to her touch, she lowers her lips to kiss the end of it, looking up at me for approval. Then she plants a trail of kisses down one side, around to the underside as she points up toward my head. She then licks back up to the tip and slides her lips over the head, engulfing it. God it feels good. She works her way down a little more than half way, then gagging a little, withdraws.

“I don’t know Dave, I think I’m gonna be too sore to hike back down. You’ll have to carry me.”

Now I need to take control. I stand up while she remains on her knees, and offer my dick once more to her wanting mouth, which she gladly accepts. She bobs her head forward and back, sucking in earnest. I’m getting close to coming and tell her to stop, to let me take over the motion.

As my orgasm subsides, I take her head in my hands, and start sliding in and out of her mouth ever so slowly. She tilts her head back a bit, looking up into my eyes, and loosens the grip with her lips. She shapes her tongue into a bed, maybe more like a hammock the way she curls the sides up, for my dick to slide on. Slowly in. Slowly out. Slowly in. Slowly out. And my orgasm is building once more, but more slowly this time. I’m getting close, but it’s too good to stop now.

As I go rock solid in her mouth, I let out a low, guttural, uncontrollable groan that increases in volume over the first phase of my orgasm. Then the first spasm of ejaculation causes me to buck my hips backward, unfortunately pulling my dick out of her mouth just as the first load blasts forth. I leave a line of semen from the corner of her mouth, up her cheek, and into her ear and her hair. Not wanting that to happen again, she quickly grabbed the base of my dick in one hand, my butt in the other, and pulls me back in before the next gusher. She goes back to bobbing her head throughout the rest of my orgasm, catching the remaining come shots and swallowing it all.

I collapse back to the grass. “Damn girl, you are good.” Evidently she’s had some experience sucking dick. “But sorry about your hair.”

“Don’t worry,” as she wipes her face with a finger and licks it off. “Money can’t buy hair conditioner like that.”

We’re both on our knees, sitting on our feet, facing each other. “I owe you big time now. Lie down in the grass.”

I begin kissing the insides of her calves, then her knees, then her thighs. I lower my face to her panties. They are damp and musky, and run my fingers around under the hems of the legs, grazing what treasures they’re hiding with my thumbs through the fabric, and she moan her approval. My tugging on the waistband signals her to lift her butt, and I pull them off as she holds her legs in the air, bringing them back down to my shoulders.

Her flower is perfect. A thin patch of hair on the mound at the top. Her entire vulva is dark like her areolae, and her pussy lips, pouting out provocatively, come together at the top to cover her little pleasure bud. Her nectar is dribbling out of her vaginal opening into the grass. I use her panties to tease, dragging them back and forth across her charms. She yanks them from my hand and tosses them aside, so I again lower my face to her crotch as she lets her legs come to rest on my back.

I slowly lick up one side of her outer labia, then the other side. I repeat this over the next few minutes, each time moving slightly inward so I am soon licking the inner lips. Finally, with gentle, broad pressure, a make a slow, deliberate lick from her vagina upward, pushing her inner lips apart, and her whole body shudders underneath me. As I reach her clitoral hood, I give it a gentle kiss, a hint of what’s yet to come.

“Tommie, you taste like heaven.”

More of these long, slow strokes and her clitoris is soon peeking out from under its covering, as if begging for its share of attention. All the time, Tommie is moaning and whimpering. I keep up a slow, steady rhythm, gradually giving more attention to her clitoris at the end of each stroke. At the same time, I’m sliding a finger in and out of her vagina. As she becomes further aroused, I feel her G-spot beginning to swell, and I massage it with circular motions.

After about ten minutes or so, I really lose track of time, Tommie is gasping. “Oh, Dave… Please… Whatever you’re doing… Please… Don’t stop… Make me… Oh, God… I’m close… Oh… Oh… I’m gonna…” As her vagina clamps down on my finger, I sucked her clitoris into my mouth and rolled it between my lips. She’s gone completely silent, her back arched up off of the grass and all of her muscles are taut. Finally, she drops her back down in the grass and screams, “GOD!” so loud that it echoes off the rocky spires on the other side of the lake. I feel the familiar contractions of her pelvic area, each one causing a high pitched squeak from her throat. At times, she’s mumbling, but I can’t make out a word.

As she returns to a more normal state of mind, she says, between gasps, “Oh my God… That’s never… happened to me… before… Please hold me.”

I crawl up beside her and cradled her as she rolls on top of me. She’s well beyond her comfort zone now, and her sassiness had given way to a newfound innocence.

“You’re saying you’ve never had an orgasm before?”

“No, I have. Many times. But only on my own. I told you that I haven’t been with that many guys. But none had ever done that to me. I’d never come with a guy. A little oral foreplay was just to get me wet enough for them to stick it in.”

“Foreplay is core play.”

“And once they did that, it’d be over in a minute. I’d have to finish myself after they went to sleep. Or went home. Good Lord, I’d have to buy a few more vibrators to hit all those spots at once.”

“Have you ever had multiple orgasms?”


“You know, a second one comes easier than the first, no pun intended. Even through intercourse.”

“You mean make me come, just with your dick? That never happens.”

“Doesn’t mean it can’t happen. Doesn’t mean we can’t make it happen for you.”

“But my friends never come that way either. Maybe they need a dick as big as yours.”

“It’s not the tool or the size of it. It’s the whole repertoire. You came once through oral alone. Now your pump is primed, and it’ll be easier to reach another, by whatever means.”

“Dave, I want that. I want that to happen with you. I want you inside of me so bad.”

I just smile that same sly smile she gave me when she took her shirt off the first time. I’m already mostly hard again. Who wouldn’t be after seeing how hard Tommie just came. So I get between her legs, and start rubbing the head of my dick up and down the lips of her pussy. She’s quickly moaning again, and I’m getting even harder. Finally, I scoop up some of what running out of her vagina and slather it over my dick. Then I slowly push into her just a little bit. She gasps and I pulled back out. I push in again, only a little further.

“Oh, my God, you’re so big!”

I pull back out and push in yet again. Each time, I go in further, and it’s also getting easier. Soon, I’m fully inside. Damn, she is tight.

“How does it feel? OK?”

“God it feels good.”

“Feels fantastic for me, too, babe.”

And so I slowly slide nearly all the way out, then slowly all the way back in.

“Oh, Dave. That’s so good.”

I keep sliding in and out at a slow, steady pace. As I do, I lay down on top of her, with my weight on my elbows and my hands under her shoulders. She grips my shoulders and locks her feet behind my back while I’m kissing her lips, her cheeks, her ears, her neck. And I keep slowly pumping, in and out, in and out.

“Dave, you’re right. I can feel it. God, I’ve never felt this way with a man inside me before.”

“So, Tommie, you wanna drive?”

“What do you mean?”

With that, I roll off of her, pulling her with me so my dick doesn’t pop out. She’s now on top and she instinctively knows just what to do. She’s riding me, grinding me. She can now control the position, and the contact, to do whatever feels best for her, to get her where she needs to go. Sometimes she remains upright, going up and down, her breasts bouncing, and I will hold them and massage them. Other times she leans way forward, dangling her nipples in my face so I can suckle on them some more. She figures out that she can grind around in circles, making sure the base of my dick rubs her clitoris each time it passes by.

“Dave, I’m getting close again. I think I’m gonna come again.”

“Good job babe. You’re gonna make me come too.”

She keeps riding. And moaning and whimpering. Suddenly, her mouth drops open and goes stiff again, just like before. She falls forward and I guide her hands to my shoulders so she can brace herself. Since she’s stopped the thrusting, I have to take over, and start hammering into her from below. As she’s convulsing, I hit the first phase of my second orgasm, but I keep pounding away. She’s screaming and gasping as my first load of semen erupts into her. Then the next spasm shoots another load into her. Again and again. Gradually, both of our orgasms subside, and she lays down on top of me, nuzzling into my neck. I wrapped my arms around her and hold her tightly.

“Dave, that was wonderful. That was amazing. How did you ever learn to do that?”


“I never had a guy make me come. I was starting to think it was a myth, or that there was something wrong with me. Or that maybe I was a lesbian but just hadn’t figured it out yet.”

“Oh Tommie, there’s nothing at all wrong with you. You are as perfect as God and nature intended.” And she’s kissing me all over my face. “Everyone gets better as they get older. Even the boys back at school. Maybe they need you to help them out. I know, because I used to be one of them. And it was an older, experienced girl that helped me. As for you doing it with girls, remember, they have the same equipment as you, so they know how to operate it.”

The sun is getting low in the sky. Time to head back down. We hike in silence, not talking, but frequently looking at each other and simply smiling. As we get further down, we start running into other people again. If only they knew what we were smiling about.

And so began a couple of wonderful years with my tomboy. After grad school, she left for a job back east. We both knew all along that it couldn’t last, but we stay in touch. She misses the mountains, our hikes, our orgasms at timberline. We even did it at night once, with the stars so bright that we could see everything about each other.

And she finally has a steady boyfriend, someone as brainy as her, who craves her intellect. She says she’s teaching him well, just as I had taught her. She says boys are not hopeless forever, and it really does get better with experience.

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