the I Phelta Thi Sorority - Part 3 - Sex Stories

the I Phelta Thi Sorority - Part 3

Sarah had a class soon, and I had some chores that were not going to wait any longer, so we exchanged emails and cell phone numbers and got dressed to leave.

“Did I pass the test?” grinned Desiree, still naked. She rubbed her clitoris absently.

“Well. . .” said Sarah, looking at me. “Given the unusual circumstances, I would have to say ‘yes.’ But I’ll need to be sure the other girls approve.”

“If you need me to provide other demonstrations of. . .” Desiree raised her eyebrows at me “. . .bringing an older guy to orgasm, I’m anxious to comply, as I wouldn’t want there to be any shadow of a doubt. In fact. . .”

“That will be enough for now,” said Sarah. We were both fully dressed. She turned to me. “Let’s go.”

The next few days were a melted jumble of work obligations and daydreams. I had no idea whether the commitment Sarah had promised for would hold for real, but either way vivid pink, brown, and curly red-haired fantasies made it difficult to concentrate on menu hierarchies and mouse clicks for my job. Working remotely I had a lot of flexibility, but I still did need to produce useful documentation.

I half expected her to freak out, and never to hear from her again. I didn’t hear anything the next day, but the day after I got a text.

From Sarah: “u free 2nite?”

That woke me up. My heart raced. Emotions were mixed between a cringe at the spelling and a feeling that the world had become lighter around me, and I along with it was now buoyant, nearly ...

... weightless.

“Yes,” I replied.

“meet w kelly?”

I blinked and shook my head. No, I wasn’t dreaming.

“Affirmative,” I typed.

“7pm meet at secret gate combo 34969” she replied, along with a set of map coordinates.

“I will be there,” I typed.

End of conversation.

It was 10:23 in the morning when I got the text. The nearly nine hours that lay ahead loomed like nine centuries. Those hours hung like an invisible oppressive barrier between myself and the world of my dreams, my heart’s desire, and ideal contentment. Were I more literary, I would convey each microscopic millisecond in detail, explaining with glacial precision how slowly each one crawled by, like a parade of slugs gradually making their way to plunder the tomato plants.

However, my literary talents are limited, so you’ll just have to imagine, and put up with my terrible metaphors.

At 6:49 sharp, I found the gate of the secret entrance. It was on a weird side street I had never heard of before, with a giant unmonitored parking lot opposite which, as far as I could tell, was always nearly empty.

Standing before the lighted keypad was a short Asian girl, who was studying it with a sheepish smile.

She looked up as I approached. “Can I help you?”

“Er, I was supposed to meet someone here.”

She stepped away from the keypad and I punched in the code. The lock clicked and I unfastened the gate, looking at her.

“I forgot my combination,” she said. “It’s all electronic. They can add them or ...