Shaking It Off

I glanced at Nicole, who grimaced furiously as she pulled her shirt down. If looks could kill, Leah would have flown out the window in a mist of blood. "I was just going," I stuttered. I'd fucked in public before, but now wasn't the time. Even if Nicole had been into an audience, there'd be no chance I'd do something like that in front of a student. I sat up straight and tried, with what remained of my evaporating dignity, to stow my penis and zip up.

Nicole glared at the world, her hair mussed from my hands, her chin still coated in my drying spit. "Sure," she said in a brittle voice. "I'll walk you out then, Keith."

"Byee!" Leah sang from behind us as she shut the door, the two of us scowling in the hallway. On impulse, I laid a hand gently on her shoulder; she melted into me, her arms finding themselves in the small of my back.

"I'm sorry."

"Come to my apartment," I urged. She was shaking her head even before I got the sentence out.

"I wasn't planning to fuck you," she told me slowly, leaning back to look me in the eye. "I was just wanting to get to know you." She smiled, feeling my dick still pressed against her as we embraced, and so she reached down and massaged it slowly upward. I groaned. "Quit being such a baby."

"Goddamn." She wasn't in a hurry to let go once she'd gotten me put back together. "You sure? My bed doesn't even have any clothes on it."

"I'm sure." She hesitated. "Anyway. The party is tomorrow night. I suppose you'll need all the cum you can get, Keith." I was shaking my head, but she slapped my chest lightly. "Seriously. It's an all-nighter." She bit her lip and looked down a moment, then sighed. "You'll be wanting to have fun. Trust me."

I opened my mouth to say something, but clamped it shut again; I'd been about to say something stupid, something sappy. Something true. Nicole was instantly on guard. "What?"

"Nothing." I sighed, ruffling her hair. "I'm glad I came over."

"I'm not," she snapped. "I should have texted you a couple hours earlier."

"I was in class," I pointed out.

"You'd have left early," she replied at once, and I figured she just might be right.

* * *

I tried to remember, as I stood in the formal entryway of the Chi Kappa house, why I'd never been there before; certainly my undergraduate self had never been one to shy away from parties, and the C-Kups were well known for their skills in that area. But I felt sure I'd have remembered a sorority house with quite this much opulence, not to mention quite so many pictures on the walls.

They coated every vertical surface, mostly in black-and-white, tracing a long history of sisters and their various achievements. Along one wall was a series of group shots of the sorority sisters in what looked like the same back garden, starting in 1926 and going through last year, a solid grid of black frames whose images traced the fashions of nearly a century: the hemlines rose until the '70s, then slowly sank once more before slinking up again, but almost every face in every shot advertised health, beauty, and upper-middle-class privilege.

"Good evening!" There was a pretty big group of us "Sweethearts" gathered in the hall by then, shown there by a nervous pledge called Steph and her short friend Nicole, of the frizzy hair in The Alibi mens' room. The two of them were dressed at the height of their powers, clearly trying to impress; they looked like beauty queens. "Welcome to Chi Kappa!" We all turned to see a radiantly beautiful woman enter, proud as any duchess, tall and shapely and with a nose long and sharp enough to spear an olive in a martini glass. Behind her was Nicole Rye, looking severe and composed in a green silk dress worn sexy-tight. I felt my mouth go dry just looking at her, but she didn't even try to make eye contact with me.

"I'm Bella Parkes, president of this year's pledge class. This is my secretary, Nicole Rye. On behalf of all the sisters, we'd like to welcome you to the annual Valentines Ball!" She paused, clearly expecting applause, and as the last of the Sweethearts filtered in she got a smattering. Steph and the other Nicole scurried around with a few other pledges, making last-minute tweaks to the numerous hearts and strands of crepe paper scattered everywhere. We'd all been told to put our bags by the door, in a forlorn-looking pile of dirty backpacks that looked very foreign compared to the jackets and ties most of us wore.

"I'd like to start by acknowledging the efforts of our Special Valentines Coordinators, Genevieve Warner and Rachel Schnitzer." We applauded again, a little more enthusiastically; the two wasted girls from the Alibi bathroom were transformed now, looking like confections with their hair piled high. Every man in the room had had his dick evaluated by these two, and as I looked around at the gloating grins on a few of my fellow sweethearts' faces I realized suddenly that a couple of us had done more with those two than simply pissing. Some evaluations had apparently been more thorough than others.

It made me wonder what Nicole had told any of the others when she called them. Or whether she'd met with any of them later...

No. I shook that off. This wasn't about her and me. I'd accepted the invitation and now the night would play out however it played out. But it was hard to look away from her, her sleek body outlined in the tight dress, without a twinge from behind my balls.

Fuck. Was I getting smitten?

"Now then. You'll be given a formal dinner, then there'll be a dance, then whatever you and your date want to do." Bella smiled, pausing, letting everyone realize she knew everyone in the room would soon get laid, but that she was far too polite to say so. "You're obviously free to leave at any time, but while you're here, we'd ask you to behave yourselves."

A wave of chuckled grins spread through the crowd, accompanied by a pretty blush from Bella and, for the first time, a glance toward me from Nicole. She risked a tiny smile, and my cock lurched again.

"My pledge sisters and I will be available to answer questions and help out, but please remember that tonight is about you and your dates, in a Valentines spirit of... well, of true love." Her mask broke then, her lip curling in a cynical grin, and in a flash I saw exactly what this girl would be like next year, around now, when she'd be behind the double doors at the end of the hall, waiting to see what tasty morsel the pledge class had delivered to her.

My eyes strayed over to a big easel, with a very old, very blurry photograph propped on it: our predecessor Sweethearts, dated before the Second World War. All the people in that scratchy black-and-white photo were dead now. And idly I wondered to myself whether the Class of 1937 had spent its evening in a state of inebriated naked debauchery.

Because from the start it was pretty clear that's what we were expected to do.

All I saw when the doors opened were tits and legs beneath hair piled high, the C-Kup sisters dressed in the most revealing fashions they could manage without flat-out wearing lingerie. We Sweethearts surged in, some more eagerly than others, and as I passed through the broad doorway I traded one more quick glance with Nicole, who just stared back impassively.

Yes. Deinitely, some more eagerly than others.

* * *

I didn't know Alexandra Stepanovich, the chapter's social coordinator, fundraiser extraordinaire, mistress of parties, lady of the manor as far as outreach to fraternities was concerned. She was beautiful, poised, perceptive, wise, witty, and extremely sociable. She was a vision in a lacy burgundy gown that set off her blue eyes to good advantage. And she was, as Nicole had implied to me over coffee, the proud possessor of the finest pair of breasts in the entire sorority.

They were amazing: massive, yes, but also firm and superbly shaped, balanced with gravity-defying perfection above where the tight burgundy lace encased her subtly tapered ribcage. She knew exactly how to present them too, selecting a combination of bra and dress that left her exposed, coquettish, without being even slightly slutty.

I was not surprised that she was the one the chapter sent when it wanted to woo fraternities. It would be a strong young man, I reflected, who could refuse her anything.

"Hello," she said, striding boldly up to me, her eyes big and gorgeous as she held out her hand. "My name is Alex. I'm excited to meet you."

"No more than I am." I glued on my best smile, summoning maximum mojo; it was not difficult to want to talk to this woman. Not at all. I took her hand as she came to me, pulling it closer into a warm embrace. I wanted to feel how she'd fit, and I wanted her to feel it too. Her hair drifting along my cheek smelled of watermelon, her body supple and perfect against mine. "I'm Keith."

She held me close. Dimly, the corner of my eye showed me another guy, lacrosse-strong, already plunging his tongue into the mouth of a woman who was practically humping his leg. Some, definitely, eager. I felt her relax in my arms. "Let me know what I can do for you tonight, Alex. I'm happy to be your Sweetheart."

Her fingertips swept my cheek, the thumb trailing along my lips. "I think I'm happy about it too, Keith. I think I am." She arched a plucked eyebrow at where Lacrosse Boy was already groping his date. "Some of them probably won't make it to dinner, but I'm hungry." She took my hand and guided me between the various couples, some shy, most not, all grinning. "I hope you are, too."

I decided she'd enjoy innuendo. She was easy to read, so far. "I usually find, at parties like this, that it's not dinner I enjoy. It's usually dessert."

She laughed, a high-pitched yip that a lot of guys probably found charming. "We're serving lemon tortes tonight." She was looking up at me now with a big smile, hoping I'd be able to find a punchline. Hoping I'd make her laugh again.

"Perfect." I winked broadly at her. "I love a tangy dessert."

She accompanied her next laugh with a pull on my hand, bringing me closer, sharing her space. "I prefer a creamy one."

I gave her a laugh of my own. I knew she wouldn't mind my staring at her chest, so I did; she was walking ramrod-straight, on display. "So one of us is going to be disappointed, I guess."

"As long as it's not you." She leaned her head toward me. "You're my guest, after all. I value my duties as hostess very, very highly." She squeezed my fingers. "You'll value them too, I think."

"I'm sure. Oh," I added, swinging smoothly into Prince Charming mode, stopping short in the middle of the hall and steering her to face me. She looked up, head cocked, attentive; lord, she was a fine-looking woman. I was relieved when my cock twinged. "Happy Valentines Day, Alex." I stooped then and kissed her on the cheek, letting it linger, reminding her that I was a gentleman, but that this wasn't a friendly kiss.

It was foreplay.

She understood, her lip disappearing for a moment between even white teeth, and then without a word she took me into the dining room.

* * *

I saw Nicole twice more at Chi-Kap that evening. She and her fellow pledges came out to be thanked and congratulated after the meal, and after we all got up from the table she glided toward me as Alex left me in favor of the restroom, drifting off with two of her sisters and her hand trailing across my ass. I turned into a familiar smell of vanilla.

Nicole held herself carefully; I was keenly aware that she was pledging one of the most exclusive sororities at the university, that she was being watched and judged, that there were things she couldn't do and say. I nodded politely. "Thank you again," I said in the buzz of conversation, "for inviting me. I appreciate it."

"Don't mention it." And then she moved in for one of those stilted hugs you get from acquaintances after everyone's been drinking a bit, her hands on my shoulders. But she rose up on tiptoe, her face cool alongside mine. "I'll be leaving before too long," she whispered in my ear. "Stay the night. Have fun. Then I'll come over to your place and I'll clean her off you." Her tongue speared harshly into my ear one time, and then she was drifting off, gliding straight-backed through the crowd, leaving me blinking and hard in her wake.

That wasn't the last time I saw her, though.

* * *

Alex was an officer of the sorority, the third-ranked in fact, meaning she lived in her own room with, importantly, a queen-sized bed. "It's really unusual," she whispered as we sat listening to Bella Parkes serve as DJ.

"I'm sure it is." We were side-by-side at the head table on a little elevated dais, and I didn't care that the whole place could look up under the table and see my hand curving around the inside of Alex' thigh, just beneath where her hem ended.

"It comes in handy," she went on calmly, "when my fiance comes to visit."

There was no added tension from the leg under my hand, and I was careful not to show any either. "There's no way he likes the idea of this party," I replied diplomatically, but Alex just laughed.

"Oh, honey. He has no idea about this party." She leaned quickly over and laid a cool, dry kiss on my lips. I had no time to respond, but smiled afterward. "He's not going to hear about it from me, either." She glanced down into her lap, where I'd begun running my thumb up and down the skin of her thigh. "That feels nice."

"Good."

"You?" She sipped at her after-dinner coffee. I knew what she meant, but I had no idea what the answer was. So I paused, looking off to the side with what I thought of as a manly expression.

"You know that time," I began cautiously, "where you've met someone? And you're both attracted? But nothing's official yet, and you might jinx it if you say anything?" She was grinning, nodding. "That's sort of where I am."

"Don't I know it, friend." She sighed. "She's a lucky girl, whoever she is. But... well, you're not exclusive, right?"

I smiled. "I'm here." I met her gaze, held it, letting her see in my face how gorgeous I thought she was. Alex blushed scarlet. "I have a girlfriend. Tonight." I squeezed her leg. "Right here."

"Ah." She cleared her throat. "Then I guess the lucky girl is me?"

I gave her my warmest grin. Her skin was smooth and very warm under my palm, and she certainly didn't mind my being there. I ducked back into the watermelon cloud to murmur in her ear. "Where is everybody?" The sisters and their Sweethearts had started disappearing about midway through dinner, which had been a very nice steak served by the pledges.

Mine had come courtesy of tall, blonde Veev from the Alibi mens' room, who had allowed her tit to brush my shoulder as she leaned in with my food. But I noticed she was doing the same thing to all the other Sweethearts too, so I didn't think much of it. Now Alex chuckled softly back at me, then waited until I turned to face her ecstatic grin. "Why, they're fucking, Keith," she explained as though it was obvious. She smiled. "Apparently, some of my sisters are better at seduction than I am."

"Oh, I doubt that." I'd been lightheaded most of the evening, knowing I was going to get to have her. I leaned in for another kiss, light on her ear. "It's just that I'm still waiting for dessert."

"That's all you're waiting for?" Her eyes glittered, and under the table I felt her lay her hand on mine, pulling it up her lean thigh and under her hem. "Shoulda said something." She didn't stop, her dress bunching, until my palm clamped comfortably atop her humid mound. My dick spasmed as I felt hair and moisture. "Remember," she went on, her whisper thickening along with my penis, "my duties as your hostess are very important to me."

More important than underwear, obviously, I reflected. I groped her briefly, getting acquainted with her vaginal geography, then let my middle finger slip just inside her slit. She gasped, her hand making a fist on the table. "I'd hate to distract you from your responsibilities." Alex was a pro; she recovered at once, straightening her glorious body in the spindly little chair we'd been using, and her chin rose with her usual air of cool grace.

"Let me see what I can arrange for you, Keith." Out of the corner of my eye I could see a familiar face out there on the floor, the piled curls of a girl from last year's departmental proseminar, now watching my hand while her Sweetheart ran his tongue across her throat. "If you'll come with me?" She winked and squeezed her legs together, trapping me for a moment before she spread them to let me go. "I think I can arrange dessert in my room."

"Really." Bella didn't even notice as the two of us scraped our chairs back and moved calmly toward a side door. "After you." The sleek curve of her hips and ass tempted me as she walked; I knew my boner preceded me, but I didn't much care. After all, a red-faced girl we passed in the hall was getting taken from behind over one of the settees, her Sweetheart working his hips with efficient strokes as his trousers slithered down toward his knees. I doubted a hard-on in my pants would even be noticed at this point.

Alex took my hand, and lifted it quickly to her mouth. A pink tongue slipped out to curl around my finger, the one that had been inside her. "Tangy," she giggled. "Like you prefer your desserts."

"You're right," I told her, and then I dragged her hand down to my crotch. Her fingers tightened reflexively through my pants. "And I could probably find something creamy for you." We stopped, in unspoken synch, and she leaned hard into me against the wall between a group photo of last year's sisters and an ornamental sconce. Her tongue was wet and vibrant in my mouth, stabbing aggressively in along my teeth, her lips pressed selflessly to mine while her hand groped for my balls. "Where's this amazing bed of yours?" I muttered into her ear.

"Just down the hall," she slurred, wiping spit off her lips. "This way." We made it, but only barely, crashing through her door in a lusty pink haze even as my fumbling hand got her zipper halfway down her back, her bra-strap crossing pale flesh beyond. The room was shadowed and small, the bed filling most of it, which was fortunate: we didn't have far to go. The back of her knees hit her mattress and she sat heavily, her dress unraveling at her shoulders.

"Nice place," I managed, staring down at her emerging tits in the gloom, her hands already tearing into my shirt. Alex was desperate to get at my skin, leaning in to kiss my stomach as soon as she got me unbuttoned. A button went pinging off the floor. I felt the trembly passion in her body as my fingers traced along her shoulders, then down, pushing at the lacy satin top of her dress, the flesh of those incredible breasts yielding to my hands.

"Thanks." She trailed her tongue out of my belly button, her fingers working at my fly with well-practiced motions. "Stand there, Keith. I'm going to undress you and then I want my dessert." I towered over her, watching her hands as they worked, my own hands balled at my hips. She wanted to serve me? I was fine with that, feeling the cold air on my butt as she fought my boxers over my erection, now pointing at her like an accusing finger. Alex smiled at it, but she didn't touch it yet. "Lift your feet." I rested my hand on her piled hair for balance while she slid off my shoes.

Alex got to her feet after that, carefully folding my trousers, winking at me as she smelled my boxers. "Just stand there," she reminded me huskily, laying my things on a shadowy desk and then coming up behind me with her dying dress finally giving up as it slipped down past her tits. I licked my lips when I saw how her nipples pushed out on her bra. "You're very handsome," she whispered, taking off my jacket and then my shirt, folding them on top of my pants.