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I originally met Alex at a football game. Our beloved Golden Bears were (of course) being ritually slaughtered by a vastly superior Pac-10 foe, Washington, if I recall correctly. He walked up to me midway through the fourth quarter. I'm certainly used to having guys just proposition me out of the blue: a nearly six-foot tall blonde woman with super-huge tits gets noticed by everyone, even in California. And on this particular day I was at the game with two female friends (both of whom had boyfriends on the football team); with no specific male fawning over me all day, I was like fresh meat in the shark tank.

Alex charmed me in several ways, because I otherwise wouldn't have given him a second glance. He looked like a thousand other guys on campus: he was a few inches shorter than me, about 5'8". Average build, no cut muscle definition. Short brown hair in a conservative cut. Polo shirt, jeans... virtually nothing outstanding about him, one way or the other. He was kind of cute, but he wasn't a heart-throb. But his approach was delivered so smoothly, and with such a genuine naivete that he won me over. He earned points on several fronts: he didn't try to bullshit talk me, he pretty much cut right to the chase and asked me if I would like to have lunch or dinner with him some day; his voice was soft, not necessarily insecure simply not pushy or arrogant; and, most impressively, he maintained eye contact with me throughout the entire exchange. I didn't catch his eyes flickering towards my chest even one time, all the more impressive considering that (being shorter) he had to look OVER them to see my eyes. ...

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