I was back on the campus of my alma mater, for a business conference of all things. I had been back for my ten-year reunion a few years back, but other than that I hadn't otherwise had a reason to drive the four hundred miles from the city in which I now lived and worked.

Flying would hardly have been a picnic, either, since both my city and the small college town were mere tributaries of the nation's aviation network. Given the choice, I'll spend eight hours on the road rather than seven hours on three separate flights and waiting around the airports in between.

I had driven up on a Thursday, spent all day Friday in the conference, and planned to depart the next morning, spending most of my Saturday getting home. As I walked across the campus Friday afternoon, I couldn't help but enjoy the scenery –no really, the scenery. The university is situated in the most beautiful surroundings. I regretted, for a minute or two, that I hadn't brought my wife along to see it. She had never been here, having attended college elsewhere.

But then I started noticing the rest of the scenery – yes, the young female sort. Ah, youth is wasted on the young, just as they say. I no longer regretted being a temporary geographic bachelor – without my wife along, I could enjoy this kind of scenery without recrimination.

One thing that struck me was the high proportion of Asians among the students. That sure brought back memories. The same had been true when I was a student - Asian students were vastly over-represented at elite colleges like this one. I had almost forgotten, being that in my town they are few and far between.

The reason this brought back memories was that another phenomenon of an elite university is that a lot of the girls are unattractive. Sorry, it's true. Maybe all the hot white chicks get diverted to cheerleading and playing dumb in high school or something. But, to the greater glory of their race, most Asian families encourage all their children, attractive or not, to pursue nothing but academics in their teens. Tiger moms don't care how hot their daughters are, it's violin and mathematics, and that's that.

So I don't know whether Asian girls are, on average, prettier than white girls. What I do know is that on a campus like this one, they certainly are. I remembered fondly that some of the hottest chicks I managed to bed at school had been Chinese or Korean. Some of the hottest chicks to have turned me down had also been Asian, I recalled with a chuckle.

Without thinking about it, I found myself making my way toward Hanson's, one of my old college haunts. I guess I was about to drink some beer, just like old times. Muscle memory doesn't fade. A few doors down from Hanson's, I noticed that someone had scrawled a "Gay Power" slogan on the sidewalk. I reflected back on my attitude and that of my friends when we were students. Homophobic is the word to best describe us then, I think. As I continued on, I reflected upon the maturation of my opinion on the subject.

Now, like most of the educated, adult, heterosexual male populace, I felt that male homosexuals should be tolerated, especially if they were discrete, while lesbians should be applauded, especially in live sex shows. Hey, I didn't say the maturation process was complete!

Hanson's was packed full of the standard Friday afternoon happy hour crowd such places attract. I wedged myself into a place at the bar and ordered a beer.

As I enjoyed it and my ambience-inspired reminisces, my senses were busy cataloging new memories. There was certainly a bevy of beautiful young girls squirming and squeezing their lithe young bodies through the press.

After a couple of beers and about an hour, the crowd began to thin out as the students headed home to get ready for the serious Friday night partying that in my day, at least, would go into the wee hours of the morning.

I wasn't left alone in the place, however. Several clusters of happy-hour revelers remained, including one just down the bar from me, on the corner. The group included three guys, two of whom might have been gay, a rather dykish looking gal, and an absolute heartstopper of a sweet little Asian girl. Naturally, it was on her that my attention was focused.

She was very slim, and generally small, with a tight waspish waist. The eye was drawn to this exquisite feature by the bare, tan skin of her lower back, exposed by her tight white crop top, and by the low-slung black spandex shorts that lifted, separated, and accentuated the delicious buns of her sweet little bottom. Occasionally she turned her head and swept her long, straight, silky hair back far enough for me to see that her face was beautiful. I felt my cock react to the view.

I could have spent the rest of the evening admiring this gem from afar, but my obsessive stare soon caught the notice of one of her friends. One of the gay-looking guys looked me in the eye, smiled, and leaned into the huddle, whereupon they all five turned with drill team precision to all look at me, with a variety of smiles, chuckles, and grins across their faces. My little China Doll smiled gently, and provided me with my first full-frontal view of her face. It was indeed quite delectable. However, I was thinking more about the acute embarrassment of being caught so publicly in an inappropriate stare. All I could do was to play it cool, raise my glass to the group, and smile back.

That might have been an end to it, but it wasn't. A few minutes later I felt a tap on my shoulder and found myself looking down into the cute Asian girl's big brown almond-shaped eyes.

"Uh, hi."

"Hi, yourself. Wanna buy me a beer?' No accent. Born here or came here young.

"Yeah, sure ... Bartender, get the lady a beer."

"I'm Tobi. With an 'I'."

"Hi Tobi. I'm Jack. With a 'C' and a 'K'." Weak, but she smiled. Perfect white teeth. "What do you study, Tobi?"

"Mostly having a good time. I'm a senior this year, so I'll need to find a job soon, but not right now." Nice, perky upturned breasts, impudently thrusting out through her tight white top. B-cups, I'd say, but they looked rather large on her petite frame.

"Well, enjoy it while you can. So, what brings you down to my end of the bar?"

"A bet with my friends." Such a soft, delicate voice. I was not merely feeling her presence in my groin; I was reacting to it there. Stiffly.

"Oh? What sort of bet?" Here it comes; I'm the butt of some joke, "go tease the 'old' guy."

"They bet me that I can't get you to fuck me." I about choked on the swallow of beer I was taking. Well, I was either being mocked or my dreams were coming true. Either case called for a similar response: don't act like a gullible ass.

"So, what makes you think you can get me to?"

"A few things. And the absence of a few things."

"Such as..."

"Such as the fact that I wasn't born with breasts like these, I paid for them. Actually, my dad's credit card paid for them, he doesn't know. And since I only buy the best, I promise you that they are perfect."

"Sounds good so far. Go on."

"As far as absences go, you should know that below my neck there is not a single hair on my body. I never had much, the rest I shave, wax or pluck. Hairless. How does that sound?"

"Outstanding. Anything else?"

"I love to suck cock. I want to suck your cock. Oh, and I am a little kinky. Probably not what you get at home with your wife."

I self-consciously glanced at my wedding ring. She took my left hand in both of hers, and examined the gold band closely.

"Nope, I am one-hundred percent certain that you would experience things with me your wife would never give you. I'd even say she COULD never give you."

Still not knowing whether I was simply the object of a sophomoric joke, I decided to play devil's advocate. "So why do your friends think you can't get me to fuck you. Is it because I'm obviously married, and too old for you?"

"Yeah, right. On one thing we all agree from one look at you: philosophically, at least, you are ready to fuck any halfway decent looking girl on this campus. Are we right?"

"Philosophically, perhaps. So what, pray tell, is the basis of their contrary position, then?"

"Well, they have some stipulations. Requirements for the bet, so to speak."

"Like what?"

"For one thing, you have to go down on me. Will that be a problem? Don't forget I'm completely bald down there."

"If we were to fuck, going down on you would not be a problem."

"Actually, you have to orally satisfy me. Before you fuck me. I have to come while you're eating me."

"I see no problem there -- is it usually difficult for you to climax that way or something?"

"Nope. You get your mouth to work on me, Jack, and I'll be coming in no time. Say, it won't freak you out if I call you 'Daddy' while I come, will it?"

"Hardly. In fact, I imagine having you call me 'Daddy' while we fuck would be great, too."

"Sounds like I might just win this bet, huh? Oh, there is one other thing. I haven't succeeded until you ejaculate inside of me. No rubbers. Don't worry, I'm totally clean, just got checked out at the clinic a few days ago. Problem?"

"Birth control?"

"Not a problem. I've got it covered. Besides, wouldn't you love to plant a baby inside this tight little body, Jack?"

"Jesus, the thought is erotic. And since we're still talking 'philosophically', god yes I would. However, my marriage would not view it the same way, I fear."