Any university is covered in beautiful, blossoming babes, but Omnibus University was a standout. Healthy men and women on the cusp of erotic discovery, they displayed cut-offs and acres of toned skin on this first day of September.
Sunny mornings would find swarms of delectable, curvaceous cleavage, jiggling as crowds moved back and forth past rugged brick buildings, muted only by the large oaks and willows surrounding the long sidewalks. Furtive glances and blatant stares were everywhere, as ripe, sinuous curves undulated under skimpy outfits and muscle shirts.
A quiet hush of boots crushed the early fall leaves, piles rising and falling in the wake of endless swaying and rotating of hips, breasts, and thighs. Men on campus were outnumbered; women flashed sultry gazes, trying to spark interest from the males. School had just begun, all the activities for the coming year fought for prominence.
Like any other college, Omnibus had sororities and fraternities, some unique to the school. One of them, Io Alpha Hetaera, or the 'ash's' as they called themselves, was in the middle of rush week. Candidates to join had to pass unique challenges. Fear and anticipation ruled the incoming freshers.
Legend had it that some of these rushes dared on the illegal side, no one talked about that. Hetaera prided them on wildness; they threw the best parties, found the best men, and made them. It wasn't enough to have beauty; brains were part of the package. Three young candidates sat in the cafeteria, facing the front door. Something was going to happen, something wonderful.
Zara, a 'mentor', looked at the glass doors, staring at each man as he entered. She idly pushed her dark hair away from her eyes, pushing her glasses back into place. She hunched substantial breasts over the top of the table, causing a sigh of dismay from Abrielle, the blond to the next of her.
Abrielle knew something was up, but not what. They asked questions, but Zara remained silent. Abrielle stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the woman, unless she spoke. On the other side, Ellie stared at the door, lost in her own thoughts, to judge from her expression.
At 2:56 in the afternoon, the clock alone moved. The initiates had been staring at it for twenty minutes, while Zara sat sphinx like between them.
Two minutes later, the mentor spoke. "Listen, Io Alpha Hetaera was formed in 1958. We are the sorority, the best, and the most popular. To enter our halls, you must face a challenge. Here it is. I'm going to assign one of you to do the next guy that comes through the door. Two minutes after that, the second will do the next guy. Any questions?"
"Besides why?" Abrielle asked. That might not be so bad; a lot of well-hung studs are running around here.
Zara smiled. "Think of it as the charity portion of being in the sorority. You're going to give a man the ultimate gift. You bring proof back, and you're in."
Ellie frowned. "So I'm going to fuck a total stranger? To get into the house? What's up with that?" She leaned away, appalled at the suggestion.
Zara looked over, leaning an elbow on the table, causing one of her boobs to slip off the table and jiggle. "Well, you have no obligation; I mean if you want to pledge at another house, that's fine. But we've had a tradition, since back in the 50's; every one of us has done the door. Your choice."
Ellie bit her lip, and thought for a while. Resigned, she nodded. "I can't fucking believe I'm doing this. Why now?"
"It's 2:58, and that's the time set for the challenge. The door's opening." Two women came through, heading for the snack isle. Zara shook her head. "Too bad, we can't get proof from a woman, so we'll have to wait a while longer.
"Imagine my relief," Ellie said, her brows narrowed.
Abrielle watched the door, wondering which one of them would get whatever it had to offer. She stared at it as if it awaiting some monster; her insides felt uneasy. What if it was some ugly guy? A gay guy...that wouldn't get her in. She started hoping it would be some Adonis. That would be more like it.
The door opened, and in walked a member of the football team; tall, muscular, and confident. Yes! Abrielle thought. She turned to Zara, who wasn't facing in her direction.
"Ellie, that's your ticket. Take this, and bring it back with his cum in it." She handed the candidate a condom.
She smiled back at the mentor. "I can do this..." she said, surprising Abrielle. Slipping the package in her purse, she started sashaying towards her target. Abrielle sighed, and hoped his friend was behind him.
Zara looked over, and smiled, "don't worry; someone's outside arranging things. It's a loose secret as to what happens about now; guys fighting to 'accidentally' make it. But we'll give you something challenging."
"Challenging? I'm not sure I like the sound of that."
Zara laughed. "Meeting challenges is part of being in any house. We show you're capable of handling things than you think you are. We haven't lost anyone yet. Some of them even hooked up, got married, and had kids. You never know when true love is..." Her face looked dark for a second, as if she remembered some distant pain.
The door swung open, and Abrielle's head swung around. "No..." she hissed, "oh fuck no, don't even think."
Zara put her hand on Abrielle's holding her in place. "Remember what I said about challenges."
"But Zara...he's...a hundred or something! The challenge would be getting him hard!" Zara chuckled at that.
"You might be surprised. Take a look at him. No pot belly, his legs work; all right, he's missing hair, but you know what they say, that's just too much testosterone. He's got glasses, so he's fairly intelligent."
"Zara, please! My father's that old! It would be...just too creepy. What if I can't get rid of him? Do you know how embarrassing it would be to have a geezer like that following me?"
"He's not your father, Abrielle. But he's the challenge. Go get 'em, tiger," she smirked.
Abrielle stumbled back, shocked. Did she want to go through with this? What the hell would they say? The 00s? He probably didn't even have a tablet or a phone. She tried to get her legs to work, but she stood there, stiff, contemplating the awful fate in front of her.
She felt a hand on her back, and turned around to Zara standing next to her. "Besides, every old guy's fantasy is a young thing like you. It's like shooting fish in a rain barrel. This is going to be easy! How could he possibly resist you?" She looked at Abrielle, pushing her forward.
How indeed? Starting to calm down, she grinned. It's just sex, right? And she could blow him off afterwards. She was still looked young enough to pull the 'under 18' ploy, even if she wasn't. He'd be a dust cloud on the horizon by the time she got her license out.
I must be fucking out of my mind, she thought, as she started towards him.
Ronald Twixt was a lecturer, in a dry field, who taught dry students to become dry, like him. Robot design was still paying, but not like it did in the early part of the century. He'd just finished the first day of class; already saw the type that gravitated to it, mostly men, few women. Studious, shy, and scary smart. There'd be a few non-majors there, curious about how to make a robot run, or just padding their resumes for the eventual job search.
He brushed the top of his head, still missing youthful hair. All these decades after, and they still couldn't make something that would grow it back, and make it stay. He started towards the snack lane, just in to pick something up for the afternoon, finalizing the next classes' lecture. Nutrisoda, and an empty-calorie safety snack...damn, he missed junk food.
Waving his phone over the cashbot, he picked up a tray, balancing next to his backpack. He should get a briefcase; backpacks were so 'turn of the century'. Keeping the whole mess level, he started towards an empty table, not too far from that stacked woman. Why couldn't he get students like that? It would make class time a lot more interesting. The bold ones in his class looked at his shoes instead of their own, when they were talking to him.
"Excuse me, is this seat taken?" he heard. Standing in front of him was...his brain went on hold.
The young blond in front of him stood, top unbuttoned lower than the crisp air outside could warrant. She held a nutrisoda, her head tilted invitingly to the side, showing him some interest. What the fuck?
