This would be spring of 1999. My second semester senior year at the University of Wisconsin I met a sophomore named Becky. I had already completed all of the coursework for my psych. major, and I was this semester completing my second major in journalism. She was just beginning in that major. It was just bad timing because it was clear to both of us that we would have been a great couple had we met earlier in our college careers. It was such a shame because, though there were no shortage of attractive females in the journalism school, oddly enough I never got any dates/hook-ups out of that major. Finally, I meet a cute, so so sweet girl who sees me as a mentor of sorts in the area she’s majoring, and I’m graduating in May.
There was just enough time before graduation for a pleasant hook-up. She and her roommates threw a party that she invited me to attend. As the evening wore on and most people left, we started making out on the couch. The lights were off so no one really saw us doing anything, and all there was to speak of was kissing, my fondling her rather round breasts over her blouse, and rubbing her vagina over her black, rayon pants (remember those relics of the mid-late ’90’s?).