It started off as a stupid joke, one of those things sororities want entering freshmen to do during rush week. All the older sisters in the house I was most interested in voted that all the new freshman pledges would have to try anal sex before the end of the semester. If we wanted to join up, we'd have to take it up -- up the ass, that is.
"Hey Lindsay, how's it going?" I asked.
The brunette student sat on the floor outside my office. She was studying a page of class scribblings that had been transcribed into a dog-eared, spiral-ringed notebook. Even in the dim half-light of the hallway I could make out her lush and curvy form. Whoa! This girl knocked the wind out of my lungs. I had spent several sweaty nights recreating her image in myriad naughty ways.
First off, it's not as bad as it sounds, really. I'm her step-father, and not her real dad. But in the end it's just an excuse. I mean, I raised her through her teen years and saw her off to college, so I guess, unless she really thought her deadbeat dad was a father to her, I was it.
The Halloween party was really kicking into overdrive. My friend Kyle was off making out with his girlfriend, and my other friends Nathan and Rob were over by the kegs, trying to finish one off between them, leaving me alone on the dance floor; well, not really alone, it was packed. People were pressed together, trying to dance, as the band played off in the corner.
My dear sisters:
I have been asked to give a history of my experience with Priapus, and my part in the revival of his ceremony. I trust that this account will not leave the walls of this sorority house. Here, as best I can recall and recount it, is the story.
When I was in college in the early seventies, it was a very different environment than it is today. We were all so much more innocent than girls are now.
"Hey red, got four quarters for a dollar?"
Melodie Taylor looked up quickly from her book of poetry at the sound of the loud contralto voice. Startled, she thought she would be alone here in the Westside Laundromat. It was after eleven PM and she didn't like being off campus this late, but it was necessary. Studying for her finals had put her way behind in her washing and her sorority sisters in Gamma House were using all the machines in their basement.
My beautiful daughter Katie and her best friend Mindy had spent the night at my house. I am forty-four and have been divorced from Katie's mom for nine years. I have dated quite a few other women but have not found any that I wanted to settle down with. Katie is twenty years old and my pride and joy. She and Mindy have been best friends since sixth grade and were now in the same sorority together at college.
Sophomore year in college, I started dating a sorority girl. Molly was nice, good looks but a pretty boring personality, but I had been without a steady girlfriend since I had gotten to school, so she fit the bill I was looking for.
Her sorority was the one on campus with the worst reputation. Her sisters were always drunk at the bars and going home with guys whose names they didn't even know. I had even hooked up with one of them when we were both freshmen.
I was spending another Friday night behind the video store counter. My good for nothing co-worker Jason was passing the time text messaging his girlfriend, basically the only thing he did at work. I once asked him how many text messages that day while working and he told me around hundred as if it was nothing.
Linda Fleury was already a legend at the University of Delaware. A petite cheerleader for the football team with golden blonde hair down to her pert little bubble butt, Linda was pretty much universally acclaimed as the "Best Cocksucker on Campus."
The great irony was that no guy on campus could honestly claim to be the fortunate recipient of her talents.