*Author's Note: Any and all persons engaging in any sexual activity are at least eighteen years of age.
**Disclaimers: This story has been edited by myself, using Microsoft Spell-Check. You have Ben forewarned; expect to find mistakes.
**..**..**
Faith Decker pursed her lips in annoyance as Patricia not Pat or Patty or Trish Childress wobbled drunkenly up the stairs with one of the ULD Storm football players. This left Faith solely in charge of the Cinco de Mayo celebration.
Faith knew it was truly an honor, to be the youngest Vice-Chair of the Alpha Zeta Rho Sorority, The oldest and most prestigious sorority of the University of Louisiana at DeGarde. But having a chronically drunk or hungover Chair meant that the eighteen year old college junior was constantly in charge of activities, or council meetings, or just the day to day operations of AZR.
In honor of Cinco de Mayo, the finger foods was all Mexican style foods. The beverages had been selected to represent Mexico as well.
"As the university's oldest sorority, we do have a reputation to preserve," Patricia had sneered that morning as the sorority members scurried about, getting everything ready.
But the moment Trenton Smith set up the bar, Patricia had been hammering them down. The young man was working on a Master's in Education so needed every penny he could earn.
"Okay, got the tequila, got the Mark's Cinnamon Liqueur, the Lime," Trenton said as he set up the bottles on the bar.
"Good. Give me a Chihuahua Martini," Patricia demanded.
"A what?" Trenton had asked.
"There is no such thing," Faith had smiled at the young man's confusion. "We made it up."
"Take two jiggers of Artigas tequila and one jigger of Mark's Cinnamon Liqueur," Patricia giggled.
"Shaken, not stirred," Trenton said, adopting a 'James Bond' English accent.
"And an Acapulco is two jiggers of tequila and one jigger of Mark's Lime Cream Liqueur," Faith continued. "But Trenton? If they're not twenty one? Point them to the table right here."
Trenton looked at the table where a few two liter bottles of Picking's Cinnamon Soda and some regular and diet sodas were sitting. One of the sorority sisters was busily preparing a bright green limeade in his large punch bowl.
"Yes ma'am," Trenton agreed.
The Mariachi band was a very good band; they were all students of the university, three were music majors. Faith sipped her glass of limeade as she monitored the party.
"Hey, Faith, want to dance?" a ULD Storm football player asked.
Faith put the glass down after draining it. The band was playing and singing a slow song and Faith melted into the young man's embrace.
Faith Angela Decker was the daughter of Duane and Angela Decker. Duane was currently doing twenty five to life in Mumphrey; his last conviction was for aggravated armed robbery. The victim was in a wheelchair and would never walk again, all for two hundred dollars. Faith's mother was a full time stripper, not exotic dancer or entertainer, she was a stripper down at the Dead End. Angela was also a part time prostitute. Angela and Faith had the same round, cherubic face, Cupid's bow mouth, small smattering of freckles across their button noses. Angela kept her mousy brown hair in a short bob, kept applying coloring to beat back the strands of gray. Faith wore her limp brown hair down to her thighs.
Faith also had the same small breasts and slightly large ass and somewhat thick thighs as her mother. Diet, exercise, and dressing to detract attention from her chubby legs, Faith did enjoy her fair share of admirers.
The band swung into another lively and loud song. Faith laughed as her companion spun her around; she knew his intent was to make her short skirt flare up, revealing her blood red panties.
"Jackson, Jackson, hold on," Faith giggled, stepping away as Trenton was waving almost frantically to get her attention.
Trenton pointed toward a cute, chubby girl and Frankie Robertson. The girl, Faith did not know her, was stumbling drunk, even though she did not look old enough to drink. And Frankie Robertson was not one of Faith's favorite ULD athletes.
"Jackson, get Marv and whoever else you can," Faith ordered, quickly scurrying toward the nearly comatose girl and the smirking Frankie.
"Hey, hey, I, she had a bit too much to drink; I'm just taking her outside for some fresh air," Frankie smirked when Faith blocked his exit.
"That right?" Faith asked. "Sweetie, hi, can you tell me your name?"
The girl looked blankly at Faith. She tried to speak but nothing came out. Her eyes were not the eyes of a drunk, they were the glazed over eyes of someone under the influence of something much stronger than alcohol.
"Look, I been working on this stupid cunt since I got here," Frankie now snarled at Faith, moving to shove her out of his way.
Faith put a whistle to her lips and gave a piercing blast. Frankie swatted at the offending whistle and was jerked back by Marv Alton, forward for the ULD Storm Basketball team.
"Yes ma'am?" Officer Kenya Hebert asked, marching over.
"Yes, Officer, this young lady is under the influence of something; I stopped Mr. Frank Robertson from removing her from the premises," Faith said to the DeGarde police officer.
"Hi Sweetie; you tell me your name?" Kenya asked the incoherent girl.
"You. Hands behind your head, lace the fingers," the police officer barked at the now sweating Frankie Robertson.
"The cops? You got the fucking cops at this lame ass party?" Frankie barked at Faith. "Fucking bitch! The cops?"
The girl was indeed under the influence of a nasty cocktail. A small vial was found in Frank's pocket. The girl was the fifteen year old sister of one of the sorority pledges who had brought her sister to the party, then promptly abandoned the girl when she managed to hook up with a cute little Latina that had come with the trumpet player of the Mariachi band.
The arrival of the ambulance and the ULD campus police brought an end to the Cinco de Mayo party. Faith organized the cleanup and unlocked the cash box to pay the band and Trenton for their services.
"I uh, Miss? This, this is for the whole five hours," Trenton verified, holding up his cash. "But I haven't even been here for two hours."
"Trenton, you hadn't alerted me? We'd lost a whole lot more than those bucks," Faith wearily said as Patricia finally decided to stagger downstairs and see why the party had stopped.
"Well, she'd come up earlier, trying to get a drink," Trenton admitted. "Then I watched Asswipe Robertson giving her his Acapulco Martini. Next thing I know, she is just falling all over the place."
"Bar's closed, Patricia," Faith said tightly.
Patricia listened as Faith relayed the information. Patricia looked around for Tatianna Sneed, sorority member and older sister to Candy Sneed, the intended victim. Faith informed Patricia that Tatianna was at the hospital with her sister and Mr. and Mrs. Sneed had already been alerted.
"And why wasn't I summoned immediately?" Patricia shrilled, manufacturing outrage.
"Uh, sent Gail up there," Faith said. "Sent you not one, but three text messages when your phone went right to voice mail. Not sure what else I could have done."
"Oh. I, that's why Gail was knocking?" Patricia meekly asked.
"Ms. Decker, Ms. Childress, thank you," Trenton said, preparing to leave.
"One minute, Trenton," Faith begged, placing a hand on his arm.
Even though she was only eighteen, Trenton had not bothered to check Faith's ID. After all, she was in charge. Faith had consumed two Chihuahua Martini before switching to the limeade. And rubbing against Jackson Fuller's taut, well-muscled body had started Faith's motor. But Jackson and the other ULD Storm athletes had left; there were at least three other Cinco de Mayo parties in full swing.
Trenton Smith was no Jackson Fuller. He was not six three, was not two hundred and seventeen pounds of pile-driving muscle. But Trenton Smith was a handsome young man with shaggy brown hair, shy smile and soulful brown eyes. At five nine, he probably weighed one fifty five. But he possessed a keen eye, a soft poetic style and mannerism. And Faith was horny.
Faith made sure she and Patricia had concluded their business. Leaving Patricia to supervise the cleanup, Faith pulled Trenton into a small alcove.
"I'm not usually like this," Faith lied and pressed her body against a stunned Trenton.
She kissed him hotly, grinding her hips against him. She smiled up into his warm eyes and giggled at his adorable blush.
"Remember, I paid you for the full five hours," Faith husked, pulling the mute young man to the stairs.
"I uh, yes ma'am," Trenton said, his brain finally kicking in. "You sure did."
His first year of college, Trenton David Smith had endured the same affliction of many of his peers, horrible acne. He'd also been bullied horribly in high school by the poplular clique and shunned by the female population. His mother did love him, but Lisa Smith just didn't have the time to devote to her little man; she was working two and sometimes three jobs just to pay the rent and utilities.
Dave Trenton, Trenton's father was of no help. The bitter man resented Lisa Smith, resented paying child support for a child he had not wanted.
"Know the difference between a mosquito and a whore? The mosquito will stop sucking the blood out of you when you slap it," Dave snarled on one of his few visits with his son.
"A condom," Dave had said to Trenton. "Only thing between you and a lifetime of paying over and over for one night of pussy."
Trenton's father had been an absentee father, disappearing when Trenton was twelve years old. Trenton's mother was too busy, and Trenton's two older sisters resented him and his one younger sister was too self-involved to notice him.
His second year in college, Candy Thibodeaux, a somewhat chubby girl with innocent smile latched onto Trenton. The cute brunette easily coerced Trenton into doing her class assignments for her and helping her study for her classes. In exchange, she allowed Trenton to service her pussy with his tongue and fingers. To a young man with no guidance, no tools in dealing with members of the opposite sex, this seemed like a good arrangement.
"Oh, no, no, Trenton, I, I'm saving myself for marriage," Candy would declare whenever Trenton tried to go a little further.
Her oral skills left a lot to be desired and her hand jobs were clumsy and not very fulfilling. Usually, Trenton serviced her, then masturbated into a handkerchief.
