Frat Party Slut - Sex Stories

Frat Party Slut

... In the middle of the room, two groups of college students were in a heated game of flippy cup. If you’ve never played it, it’s a drinking game where everyone tries to flip an upside down cup, right side. There’s some drinking involved, but you’re really not missing much. It reminds me far too much of high school. When the drinking games come out, it’s usually my sign that it’s time to go someplace else. Whether that’s out to the bars or back to my dorm, that depends on my mood. However, tonight I had just gotten to the party. I didn’t want to leave, especially when I saw reason number four at the table. I had a crush on Chris, another member of the Frat hosting the party. We sat next to each other in the Physics of Sound & Music class. Sounds like a great class, but it’s not. The teacher is well past retirement age and could turn even the most interesting material into something that will put you to sleep. Luckily, I had Chris next to me. We sat in the back and he spent most of the class doing a running commentary on our professor just loud enough for the people around him to hear. On more than one occasion, I’ve laughed so hard that I had to cover my face when the professor looked at me. Did I also mention he was drop dead gorgeous, with All-American good looks and the toned body to go with it? He smiled when he saw me and when the game was over, he came around the table to talk to me. “Nice to see you outside of class.” He grinned as he looked me up and down. “Nice to see ...

... you too.” “Are you having fun yet?” I never know whether or not I should give what I’m thinking as the answer. Far too often I do and it ends up with the person I’m talking to cutting the conversation short. For once, I went with what I thought Chris might want to hear. “It’s good now that I’ve found you.” He also invited me to the party. His invitation a little more direct, but still maybe nothing more than a frat member doing his job to get the word out about the party and make sure that it wasn’t a sausage fest. After refilling our beers, we made small talk. We complained about our professor, complaining about the weather, talking about plans for spring break. We both agreed that he needed to retire. We both agreed it was far too cold and we couldn’t wait for it to warm up. Unfortunately for me, it was going to warm up much sooner for him. In a month, he would be on the beaches of the Florida panhandle for spring break. I would be heading home to Chicago to spend the week working, hanging out with my old friends from high school and trying not to get frostbite. Tina spotted me when she came down the stairs. I’m not really sure how I know Tina. I think she’s my roommate’s friend of a friend from high school. Do the math on that one. If it wasn’t for passing her once on campus, I would think that she didn’t even attend the same college. The only place I ever see her is at parties and out at the bars. Not surprising, Chris knew her too. The small-talk continued as we drank ...