The Wolf

He thought he was the wolf of campus, the guy who was irresistible to women. But he was nothing but a user – an abuser. Late one night in the basement of the dorm, 8 of the women he’d chased after sat down to make a plan. What they came up with was pure genius. It would begin with . . .

Please leave a comment with your first 50 words on the topic “the wolf.”


Author: Virginia DeBolt

Writer and teacher who writes blogs about web education, writing practice, and pop culture.

8 thoughts on “The Wolf”

  1. They all fell for his charm, the pretty, the rich, the smart, whoever they were, he was marriad with a wife and children and a woman he slept with and had been apart of his life for a long time, he used and abused all women but they never noticed.

  2. The Singles class at church was happy hunting ground for the wolves.
    Women outnumbered the men eight to one. Each time a new wolf visited, all eyes took notice. They could not always be easily detected, especially those who wore sheep’s clothing.
    This was not the purpose of the study-fellowship gathering, but those on the prowl disregarded that. They had something else up their sleeve entirely, to put it mildly.
    Only the savviest ladies could spot the wolves, and detach from them mentally if they came near to sniff. There was no such thing as an automatic immunity. Smart females put themselves on the alert, able to recognize the common strategies of the wolf
    First there was the foreplay, smiles and innocent conversation. Next came sitting nearby or right next to them.
    Before long, compliments were bestowed and interest shown in personal questions. Then likely, Inquiries about whether they were going to such and such an activity that week or the next. At those, more proximity, enough to foster a gentility that bred a forthcoming invitation to do something together. Whether or not they entered one or the other’s den was private information.
    Some wolves even wooed their prey concurrently. I knew of one who was dating two women at the same time. They figured they were fair game, a sort of harmless play.

  3. Yes, he had chased 8 pretty girls but not all at once. His admiration bounced innocently and optimistically for over 2 years. Whoever said he was a user and abuser is a down right liar. He is not the wolf he had imagined and he may never be optimistic again.

  4. He WAS the wolf of campus. A second-generation legacy (that meant his granddaddy and his daddy were both wealthy alumni who donated generously), and a big mucky muck at the frat house (president, pledge master,etc), he boasted of his many bedroom, basement floor, and couch conquests. No matter tha several of his “conquests” were passed the fuck out (because he’d put the date rape drug in their drinks) at the time he conquered them and they didn’t actually consent, his frat rat brothers all high-fived him the morning after. One girl had cried rape, AFTER THE FACT, and he’d been called into the dean’s office, and the dean, a good ol’ boy, had said, “I get it, you’re not the type to send flowers the next day, and some girls don’t like that.” and sent him on his merry way.

    The girls who’d already been used by him talked among themselves about how he was scum. Those who didn’t yet find out about his devious ways knew the rumors, and some believed, but others didn’t.

    This term, the wolf of campus set his sights on the university’s pretty young adjunct lecturer of romance languages. She wasn’t much older than he, and he LOVED that thing she did with her tongue when she rolled her R’s while speaking Spanish. One day after class, he went up to her and asked, “I know this is unorthodox, but would you maybe join me for dinner sometime?”

    “Dinner?” her eyebrows went up.

    “At a Spanish restaurant,” he said, “see my family will be vacationing in Spain this summer, and I’ll need to know how to order dinner correctly, how to pronounce things just right so I don’t embarrass myself in front of my relatives. It’d be more like a private tutoring session than a date.”

    “Well,” she said, “do you know which region of Spain you’ll be vacationing in?”

    “The Basque region,” he said, seeing she was going for it.

    “I know a Basque restaurant near here,” she said, “and they pronounce some things a bit differently in that region. I’m happy to see you taking such an interest in the food and culture of the region. I’d be happy to tutor you privately.” She wrote down the address of the restaurant and said, “Meet me there at 8:30 Thursday evening, and dress for dinner.”

  5. One beautiful autumn afternoon I visited a nature center in Connecticut which I loved. It rehabilitated wildlife creatures and released them back into the forest when possible. There was a lovely winding path which took me through the woods and across a rickety wooden ramp over a boggy area. The air had that sensual aroma of fall. The leaves crunched under my boots as I walked. It was peaceful. It was quiet except for the gentle drop of a leaf here or there onto the ground. Suddenly I heard someone approaching from the opposite direction. I could not believe what I saw. I had read about a wolf the center was trying to help. How lucky I was that day to come face to face with the handsome creature. He was on a leash with his caretaker. As we came closer and closer to one another, I looked into his beautiful golden eyes and felt there was sadness reflected in them. He was calm and majestic looking. A silvery gray creature of the forest. I felt no fear. I’ll always remember that special meeting.

  6. The wolf in American English; la lobo in Spanish; el lupo in Italian. All conjure up images of wilderness animals whose survival depend on pack living & hunting. In some parts of Italy and the USA “el lupo” also connotes the Mafia, terrorists before there were “The Terrorists” to strike fear in our bones. .

  7. Mick’s trip from Miami to Bimini had been short and now he was on his way to his bungalow for a good night’s rest. The instructions from his boss had been clear: “Here’s his picture. Get the job done and leave no trace.” He knew exactly what to do; that’s why he had been summoned.

    It had been many years since he had been a Navy Seal and a dishonorable discharge made him go to the dark side where he utilized his skills working as an elite hitman. No one knew his real name. In the underworld, he was only known by his code name: “The Wolf.”

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