a lunatic, blubbering
incoherently each time I spoke. I found myself mesmerized by every word, every
syllable from his mouth about dorm policy and how the toilets tend to clog.
Actually, I wasn’t paying much
attention to what he was saying.
And so it hit me like a ton of
bricks when he asked me, “Are you doing anything tonight?”
I think my throat hit the floor
when he said it.
Was he asking me out? Like,
on a date ? My cheeks went flush—I forgot how to breathe.
“Because I’m supposed to tell girls
in the West building about joining Triple Pi.” Oh , I guess not. I
exhaled a long disappointed sigh and he sort of looked at me funny, then
continued. “They like to meet freshmen to find out if they’d be a good fit for
their sorority.”
I can’t believe I even let myself
think for a moment that he was interested in me. I felt like such an idiot.
But then my eyes lit up at what he
said next.
“I’ll be there.”
I think my head would have fallen
off if I nodded any faster. I made an affirmative squeak that sounded like my
lungs had given out. My face was glowing neon red by that point.
“Okay then. Tonight at eight.” His
arm came out halfway for a handshake then paused. He studied me for a brief
second, then brought the hand back to his side. “Well… see you then.”
Then he turned opposite from me and
went on down the hallway. I just stood there, frozen in place for a good minute
or two. My knees were all jittery and barely supported my weight. The heat
between my legs was slick with desire for Brent. My pussy throbbed and ached
with a new kind of passion.
I don’t know what the heck a male
would be doing at sorority house, but I sure as hell know that I don’t care.
All that matters is that Brent is going to be there.
******
I crane my neck to read the Greek
letters above the big white sorority house, whispering them aloud. “Triple Pi.”
It sounds exactly like the kind of club I swore I’d never belong to when I went
to college.
But none of that matters now,
because Brent is inside.
I gather my courage and step along
the narrow brick pathway lined on either side with purple poppies. It’s obvious
they had the money to pay for a professional landscaper.
My black heels click on the brick
tiles leading up to the steps of the porch, and I can’t help feeling
self-conscious.
I had on my favorite white blouse
and a black skirt that I thought made my ass look pretty hot. Thankfully my
hair was cooperative after about an hour of curling and primping, and fell
elegantly over my shoulders. I was feeling pretty confident in front of the
mirror before I left, but my self-esteem has completely betrayed me at this
point.
The truth is I really don’t care so
much about making an impression on the sorority girls as I do Brent.
As I approach the double doors of
the house, one of the ornate brass handles turns on its own.
The door cracks open and a petite
head comes out of it. She’s got pigtails tied with red and white polka dot
ribbons and thick-framed glasses. A lot more bookish than I was expecting.
Certainly not the fashionista I thought would greet me.
“Oh—it’s you ,” she
says, looking me up and down. Her eyes are dismissive, her expression
standoffish. She glares at my blouse like I’ve committed some sort of fashion
sin. “Come on, Madeline is waiting for you.” Her attention remains fixed on my
cleavage as her head retreats back through the crack. I don’t think she looked
at my face even once. What a bitch.
She leaves the door cracked so I
have to open it the rest of the way to enter.
Immediately I’m hit with a waft of
heavy perfume. The air is dense with an intoxicating mix of floral scents worse
than my grandmother’s retirement home. It’s enough to make my eyes water.
As I step inside, trying my best
not to gag, I notice the boisterous sounds I heard from outside
incoherently each time I spoke. I found myself mesmerized by every word, every
syllable from his mouth about dorm policy and how the toilets tend to clog.
Actually, I wasn’t paying much
attention to what he was saying.
And so it hit me like a ton of
bricks when he asked me, “Are you doing anything tonight?”
I think my throat hit the floor
when he said it.
Was he asking me out? Like,
on a date ? My cheeks went flush—I forgot how to breathe.
“Because I’m supposed to tell girls
in the West building about joining Triple Pi.” Oh , I guess not. I
exhaled a long disappointed sigh and he sort of looked at me funny, then
continued. “They like to meet freshmen to find out if they’d be a good fit for
their sorority.”
I can’t believe I even let myself
think for a moment that he was interested in me. I felt like such an idiot.
But then my eyes lit up at what he
said next.
“I’ll be there.”
I think my head would have fallen
off if I nodded any faster. I made an affirmative squeak that sounded like my
lungs had given out. My face was glowing neon red by that point.
“Okay then. Tonight at eight.” His
arm came out halfway for a handshake then paused. He studied me for a brief
second, then brought the hand back to his side. “Well… see you then.”
Then he turned opposite from me and
went on down the hallway. I just stood there, frozen in place for a good minute
or two. My knees were all jittery and barely supported my weight. The heat
between my legs was slick with desire for Brent. My pussy throbbed and ached
with a new kind of passion.
I don’t know what the heck a male
would be doing at sorority house, but I sure as hell know that I don’t care.
All that matters is that Brent is going to be there.
******
I crane my neck to read the Greek
letters above the big white sorority house, whispering them aloud. “Triple Pi.”
It sounds exactly like the kind of club I swore I’d never belong to when I went
to college.
But none of that matters now,
because Brent is inside.
I gather my courage and step along
the narrow brick pathway lined on either side with purple poppies. It’s obvious
they had the money to pay for a professional landscaper.
My black heels click on the brick
tiles leading up to the steps of the porch, and I can’t help feeling
self-conscious.
I had on my favorite white blouse
and a black skirt that I thought made my ass look pretty hot. Thankfully my
hair was cooperative after about an hour of curling and primping, and fell
elegantly over my shoulders. I was feeling pretty confident in front of the
mirror before I left, but my self-esteem has completely betrayed me at this
point.
The truth is I really don’t care so
much about making an impression on the sorority girls as I do Brent.
As I approach the double doors of
the house, one of the ornate brass handles turns on its own.
The door cracks open and a petite
head comes out of it. She’s got pigtails tied with red and white polka dot
ribbons and thick-framed glasses. A lot more bookish than I was expecting.
Certainly not the fashionista I thought would greet me.
“Oh—it’s you ,” she
says, looking me up and down. Her eyes are dismissive, her expression
standoffish. She glares at my blouse like I’ve committed some sort of fashion
sin. “Come on, Madeline is waiting for you.” Her attention remains fixed on my
cleavage as her head retreats back through the crack. I don’t think she looked
at my face even once. What a bitch.
She leaves the door cracked so I
have to open it the rest of the way to enter.
Immediately I’m hit with a waft of
heavy perfume. The air is dense with an intoxicating mix of floral scents worse
than my grandmother’s retirement home. It’s enough to make my eyes water.
As I step inside, trying my best
not to gag, I notice the boisterous sounds I heard from outside
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