Note: The descriptions and accounts in these stories are fictional and do not portray any actual people or events. The delay in posting this chapter and perhaps the next few may be ascribed to some unexpected turbulence and travel in the author's schedule.
*****
Orinda looked so fantastic standing by the door that I couldn't believe it, and her Suzie sounded crystal clear, pure and relaxed, too. She must have done something special in the 30 minutes since dinner, because she looked scary good. I couldn't figure out exactly what it was, though. She had changed her clothes, but they weren't that different from what I had seen her wear before. Was it her hair? Maybe it was the way she was tilting her face slightly or the light in her eyes or the enigmatic smile she wore.
It was a miracle there weren't ten guys standing in a line trying to hit on her. Her skin was so black it was sort of a dark purple/blue, and by contrast her teeth were blazing white, the whites of her eyes a creamy white and her pupils just were a little lighter than her skin, with some multi-faceted highlights that were more than just slightly different colors. Her face was perfectly balanced and symmetrical, and I realized I was staring at her. This amazing woman was willing to give herself to me? She had a spectacular figure, she always had, but her face was riveting. I almost lost my edge.
Almost. I walked over to her and put my hand on the small of her back, which was warm and firm and wonderful and seemed to fit my hand perfectly. "Are you ready?" When she looked up at me, her Suzie answered my question all by itself. She was ready: she was open, willing and wanton. She was terrific. She leaned over and kissed me lightly on the cheek, and I felt a lightning bolt go straight to my cock. Wow.
She had on a simple white blouse with some blue highlights, and it was thin enough that her nipples still looked crinkly and delicious though it. A simple blue skirt picked up the blue color in the blouse but did nothing to spoil the line of her generous and fabulous hips, her legs were accentuated by some dark blue high heels, and I noticed a little touch of blue makeup on her eyelids. Nice. I remembered she had no panties on, either. Nicer still.
With our contact came a fast Suzie channel connection and I sought out her 'black box' sexual event recorder and also looked for her modulated fantasy images. Both were big surprises.
The fantasy box was full; the event recorder was almost empty. There was a young black guy pictured, maybe one or two years younger than Orinda, in some early explorations while playing doctor, and a few backyard petting sessions in late June when the days were long and the nights were warm, and some very brief, very protected intercourse on prom night, but not much else until she came to ESU. Then there was a steady stream of frustration and of her fighting off the 'smooth' APA frat rat boyfriend who seemed to have no concept of whether she was actually receptive or not, and just plunged ahead clumsily until she literally slapped him away.
Her fantasies were another matter altogether - some of them would have made Millie blush! She seemed to have two kinds: the ones that got her hot but that she knew she would never actually try, and the ones that she wanted to try but hadn't been able to arrange yet. The central problem was a profound distrust of men, and fear of their sperm - instilled by her maternal grandmother who mostly raised her to not get pregnant before she finished school, like she and Orinda's mother both unfortunately had - and ably reinforced by her recent ex-boyfriend, plus a fear of being ridiculed by the women she might approach and admit that she was attracted to. Her fantasies were something I intended to study further, and I parked my Suzie tuner on the proper channel to continue monitoring it throughout the evening.
I leaned towards her and spoke softly into her ear. "Orinda, you belong to me to do with as I please for the next three days. Then things go back to normal, but you will know just what you are capable of, sexually, which you will discover is anything and everything. I will never tell anyone, even Lizzie Faye, the details of what happened between us. If anyone asks me, I will only say that you are a lovely young woman and I am proud to be your friend. But in these next three days, you will learn how to please me, and to do it exceptionally well. I will learn what truly excites you, and may choose to do it for you. Are you ready?"
She gulped, and in a quivering voice said, "Yes, Master." She was so my kind of girl.
Our first scheduled stop was just north of campus at the recently remodeled Phi Iota Gamma house. I had to put in an appearance out of semi-respect for Theo Cadwallader, their frat president, whose family had paid for the remodel, but there was little if any chance I would pledge the PIGs.
There was more construction planned as they had bought the lot north of them and were going to demolish the old small house on it and build an addition and annex to their stately southern style mansion frat house. While Orinda and I walked north along the Drag toward the PIG house, I began to recall the summary of the ESU Greek scene that Kevin had tried to give me, as a PNM, or Potential New Member, as indoctrination for Spring Rush, before the various Rush Captains got me in their clutches.
According to Kevin, you could divide the Greek scene up into three major groups: the old guard, the new guard, and the new age or 'multi-cultural' houses. The old guard was composed of the oldest and most established fraternities and sororities, mostly founded pre-1900 at colleges mostly on the Eastern Seaboard or in the Midwest, and that had been on campus at ESU for many, many years. Their membership was primarily white bread white people, with, as Kevin put it, some 'Suitably Semi-Sephardic Jews' and some 'Barely Blonde Jews' thrown in for window dressing.
Phi Iota Gamma considered themselves the number one most powerful, wonderful and desirable frat of this group, along with three other frats that were collectively referred to as the 'big four', not just at ESU, but most places. They didn't officially do Spring Rush, because they had so many potential members in the fall that it filled their quotas. This reception at PIG was not really Rush, nor for any official invitations or bids, but Kevin explained that I was a special case: they would invite me to join in the spring because of my rep.
There was also a corresponding 'big six' sorority group. After the top four, there were the 'middle tier' and the 'lower tier' with appropriately declining degrees of looks, style, panache, and wealth. Pledging one of the fantastic four or significant six might determine who you dated, married, and may inherit a fortune from, plus joining certain country clubs, yacht clubs and law firms, think tanks, PACs, secret societies, and the client list of certain specialty drug dealers, escort services, law firm 'fixers', and psychiatrists.
Being part of the middle tier might determine who you bought your Tahoe and Buick from, or who you sold real estate and insurance to, with perhaps a modest inheritance here and there thrown in. The middle and lower tier were more active in Spring Rush, hustling to keep their membership up, and they had much more modest houses, cars and clothes. Being part of the lower tier mostly determined who you continued to get hammered with long after college and complain to about your lousy dead end corporate job. All of these organizations had lots of mottos, manufactured traditions, and nice and not so nice nicknames, and at any given time several were either banned from campus or on probation for hazing violations. There was a constant slow turnover, as some failed to attract enough members to keep up a house, or got the Dean's death penalty for repeated and awful infractions, usually involving a hazing death or other outstandingly bad publicity for the university.
