Campus Complexes
By Fanta_Story
Chapter 1: Beta House
There was big game was on tap this Saturday, not THE big game but big enough. Both teams were nationally ranked. Spirits on campus were high. Anticipation was peaking. And so was the sexual tension. There was a party at the Beta house on Friday night as usual. Franklin could hear the music from a block away. There was music blaring from some of the other houses but Tim had the biggest amplifier on the row and he wanted everyone to know that the Betas ruled. Franklin had just taken another psychology 201 final and the thought crossed his mind: "The amp was just a substitute for something that Tim wished was bigger...." Anyway, Guns N'Roses always set the mood and the chicks got hot when shaking their bodies, craving the attention that the Betas and their guests would provide.
The girls craved attention. They would trade almost anything to get it. Bumping their fabulous asses against each other, check. Bouncing their boobs, check. Brushing up against the hot guys on the dance floor, check. Teasing and teasing and teasing. That was the best part, and the worst.
Most of the guys would stumble back to their rooms with the fantasies of the girls dancing in their cloudy minds and beat off thinking about one (or more) of them. A few lucky ones would sneak one into his room and lock the door. The deadbolt was always locked but if one of the guys needed privacy with a girl, the door lock was locked. It was a far better system than the ones their father used, that of leaving a tie wrapped to the outer door handle. Too many pranks involved other guys removing ties as a gag and hanging down the hall for the second roommate to show up and hear the inevitable, "Get the f--- out." Laugher all around.
The party was in high gear as Franklin arrived after walking the half mile or so from his apartment. His roommates were still hanging around when he left. They were both geeks, straight "A" students, engineering majors. They would likely not find a party, drool over a chick or find a mouth for their dicks that night. Franklin was a sophomore and could not finagle a place in the house likely until his junior year. If not then, his senior year. He lived off campus in a nice apartment with two bedrooms. He had a twin bed and desk in one of the rooms. The geeks shared the second room. It cost more for Franklin but it was worth it to Franklin because had many opportunities to bring girls back with him after a party or after an exchange.
Whenever he did, the geeks would inevitably gawk at him the next day. They usually did not see the girl but they heard the pounding, the springs of the mattress, the female groans and Franklin's final grunt. Franklin figured that they either beat off in the shower afterward or under the covers.
There were a bunch of kids loitering on the walkway between the street and the front door. He knew some and recognized others. He didn't care too which guys were there, although if they were Betas he flashed them a grin. He was interested getting a beer and watching the chicks.
He should not be drinking. Coach Thomas told the guys to maintain their bodies in prime workout condition. But this was baseball, a sport known for hard drinking and smoking (in previous generations) in the bigs. The fall was for conditioning according to the coaching staff. The baseball season for the team started the day after New Years, when they had to report to the clubhouse. Fall was football season, a time for fun and conquests.
He found his way to the keg and poured a red plastic cup full. Daniel, the house manager (a position of leadership in the house, akin to "all around gopher") handed him the tapper. They made small talk and commented on, what else, the trim. The Beta house attracted the best. There was the tall brunette with the tight stone washed light blue jeans. Willowy is how the two boys described her. Long slim arms, great smile and great jeans, boy oh boy. Neither knew her name but Daniel saw that she had a DG lavaliere hanging from her neck. She was wearing a tight top, black and tan horizontal stripes draped off her shoulders accentuate he figure and awesome 32 or 34 cups. Besides the music and the beer, this kind of evaluation session was the entertainment for the evening. That entertainment was what caused so many guys to get back to their rooms with their heads exploding and pounding from the sexual tension. They shared a glance that they both understood. What kind of lucky guy would get a taste of that? Neither of them, for sure.
The party went on. The music got louder and the people had to shout to hear each other or filter onto the street for a conversation. That is where Franklin found himself when Patrick, another active who was a star quarterback in high school and now the captain of the Beta "A" flag football team. "We pulled the Lamb Chops (Lamba Chi Alpha) in the draw in the first round of the playoffs. We will need you on Monday, man. Four pm on the north field."
Patrick played quarterback and threw darts. He was one of the best quarterbacks in the intramurals. The Betas were in the first tier, got a bye and were paired with Lamba Chi in the second round. Franklin was barrel-chested from years of fastballs. At 6' 5" and 200 lbs. he was intimidating on the offensive line. Patrick needed the protection.
Just as Patrick was reviewing the details for the intramural game, three girls came down the walk to the street from the front door of the house. Girls always travelled in packs. That was in order to provide protection against the wolves on the row and whomever else might howl night. Franklin knew one of the girls, Erika from the Theta house. The Betas and the Thetas have a lot of exchanges. "Hi...Erika, right?" "Franklin, how is the curve breaking?" The girls laughed, although one of them did not know why.
At the last exchange, Franklin was bragging to the girls that he now had been scouted by three major league teams. At nineteen years old, his fastball had reached 92 miles per hour in a game against Vanderbilt last year when he was a freshman. One of the other Betas stuck his head into that conversation. "Girls, when his fastball reaches ninety five, his potential contract in the bigs gets to $20 million...per year." That got a big reaction at the exchange from the girls. One of the girls askedβinnocently but somewhat in jestβis that all it takes to make $20 million per year? The other guy jumped inβin order to take control of the conversation as well as to keep up the levity, "It required a massive curve ball as well, girls." It was not his intention but that broke up that group. Two girls remained rapt. Some of them were defiantly in school for the MRS degree. Erika remembered the curve ball comment.