I didn’t go on my first legitimate date until I was 19 and in college, and the sum total of sexual experiences I had during this blissful undergraduate years wouldn’t even require the remaining fingers of a grizzled old high school Wood Shop teacher to count, so while I wasn’t completely inexprienced, I’d hardly say I had a particular set of skills, acquired over a long career.
This changed when I entered graduate school, though to be honest, I don’t know *what* specifically changed, or how I can harnass it for amazing personal gain (because if I *could* do that, I’d already be living in Atlantis and fucking my harem of mermaids – I like to dream big).Somewhere between general study at one university and applying for much higher education at another, there was a seismic shift in my ability to interact with women I find attractive and, more importantly, their overall interest in me. As a result, I now refer to my graduate school career as the Era of Man Slut, because sweet bouncing *bits*, I had a lot of sex during that time.