Well, that explained his sudden confidence boost. And it explained the way the girls were reacting to him. That last girl, the one in the military uniform, had backed off immediately when he said no.
If she approached him out of respect, reverence, awe, then it would make sense for her to back off if he told her no. If she had approached because she was crazy or obsessive, then her backing off so quickly would not have made sense.
The anger and fear Jeeves mentioned might be a problem. Only time would tell. Still, overall, this seemed like a plus. Increased confidence, natural respect from others, but with a small risk that some might respond negatively to him.
When his physical self got back to his hotel room, he found Miranda sitting in an armchair. Her were legs spread wide and draped over the chair arms, and she had a text book propped up on her prodigious tits.
With her legs spread, he could tell from her glistening folds that she was wet and ready for him. Unfortunately, he didn’t have time to entertain her.
Ignoring her not-so-subtle provocation, he went into the bedroom of their hotel suite and quickly changed. When he came out of the bedroom, he saw she had discarded her textbook and was touching herself.
He walked over, gave her a quick kiss, and squeezed one of her tits, then turned and walked towards the door saying, "Sorry, gotta run."
As he left, he heard her growl in amused frustration.
While he drove, his parallel self explained what he had discovered to Madison and Miranda.
After sharing what he had discovered, Miranda said, "You need calling cards. At least two kinds. One for people you want to contact you directly, and one for people you want to be pre-screened. Then, when these girls approach you and ask for your number, you can give them one of the cards. So, for that military chick, you’d give her the card with the answering service number. Then if they left info, I could interview them and arrange hook-ups if I think they meet your standards."
"What do you mean by hook-ups?" He was pretty sure he know what she meant, but asked just to be sure.
"You know, you meet, you fuck, then you say goodbye and move on the to next girl."
Even given what she’d told him about her and her mother’s philosophy towards relationships, this seemed a bit much. It also felt a bit like she wanted to planning to pimp him out.
"One, I am not a stud bull to be passed around. And two, you’re a woman. Why would you even advocate me treating these women as disposable fuck toys?"
"But, isn’t that what all guys want, lots of casual sex?"
Yes, most guys did want that. But most of them wanted more, or at least he did.
Before he met and started fucking Miranda, yes, he probably would have thought that was a great idea. Lots of girls wanting to fuck, no strings attached. As a fantasy, it was great.
But if even a fraction of the girls reacted to him the way Miranda did, he’d have a line of girls trailing him wherever he went, begging him to fuck them again, and again, and again.
Part of him still liked the idea. But he also found he craved something deeper. He wanted to combine the kind of friendship he thought he’d had with Madison, with the passion from Miranda, but maybe dialed back from a 12 to an 8 or a 9.
Still, the general idea wasn’t bad. If he was going to average two girls a day approaching him, then an answering and screening service might be useful. Though is he was going to let Miranda run it, he needed to give her some concrete guidance.
"Look Miranda, I appreciate your enthusiasm and desire to help me with my sex life. And, yes, I’ll admit, a little variety might be nice. But I don’t want to be treated like a stud bull, and I don’t want to treat girls like disposable sex dolls."
She made a ’what about me?’ gesture.
"You’re not disposable and you’re not a doll. Even calling you a fuck toy is understating things."
He looked at Madison. "I liked the friendship I thought we had, and maybe still do have. And I like the physical intimacy we’ve shared and look forward to more."
Then he looked at Miranda, "And I enjoy your passion and hunger for me, though it can be a bit much at times. I want that kind of friendship and passion with other girls. But there’s only so much of me to go around, so I need to be picky with who I get close to. So, while I agree that calling cards and a screening service are a good idea. I have to question the wisdom of putting you in charge if all you’re gonna think about is sex."
"Oh." she said, looking down. "I...I think I understand. I’ve been pushing for sex so much because I thought that’s what you wanted, a nymphomaniac."
"Just how much of that was real?!"
"Oh! Don’t get me wrong, I do love having sex with you. It’s amazing! But I’ve been maybe pushing things a bit harder than I would have naturally. morning, I really enjoyed those first two times and that would have been enough for me, but I thought you wanted me to keep begging for more, so I pushed. You seemed to enjoy the attention, so I didn’t think there was anything wrong."
"I’ll admit, having a girl act uncontrollably attracted to me can be a huge turn on, but it can also be disconcerting. I really don’t want you putting on an act for me. I’d rather you just be you."
"Okay. I think I understand. I’ll dial it back a bit. But, just so you know, I really do like it when you shove your cock down my throat. The felling of being dominated like that is a real turn on for me."
"Okay," he chuckled. He liked dominating her, so that was good.
While they talked, his physical self arrived at the restaurant and found Professor Berkheimer standing