What Happens at a Frat House by unhgirl69

It had been about two weeks since Taylor and I had moved into our dorm and opened the year by having sloppy drunken sex with one another. It had been awkward for a few days as we tried to ignore it, and on our second Thursday on campus I finally worked up the nerve to say something to my beautiful roommate.“Tay, we need to talk about what happened,” I started nervously. We had both been sitting at our desks doing homework. Well, Tay had been doing homework. I could barely focus with how awkward the situation seemed.

“Thank God,” she whispered, sighing and letting her pen fall. “I’ve wanted to say something since it happened but I couldn’t work up the courage.” Her lower lip quivered and her eyes began to well up. I was so confused!

“What’s wrong?” I asked, dismayed. I certainly hadn’t expected her to start crying.

“I liked it,” she sobbed. Now I was getting VERY confused. “But my family is Christian, they can’t ever find out that I’m bisexual. They won’t accept me!”

I crossed the room to comfort my crying roommate, wiping her eyes. I wasn’t really sure what to say, not being very religious. “Well, we don’t have to tell them. It can be our secret, they don’t have to find out. Anyways, we were so drunk it wasn’t like you really knew what was going on.” She hugged me tightly as I said this, and I wrapped my arms back around her. I liked it too, I longed to say. I know other ways to comfort you. But I stopped myself from saying it, even though I knew I wanted to caress every inch of her, to make her know that I accepted what we had done, that I had enjoyed it too.

“Thank you so much,” she whispered. “I thought you were amazing when you moved in…I want us to be like sisters.” I forced my smile. How could I tell her I wanted to be more than sisters? It hurt to know that she thought what we had shared was a mistake, but I knew that she needed to believe it.

“I want to be sisters too, and share secrets and have our own little language. And we can go out tomorrow night and find cute guys and they’ll fall madly in love with the two of us because we’re obviously the best looking girls on campus!” She snorted with laughter as I said that.

“I look like a mess right now,” she said, still fighting laughter. “Who would fall for this?”

“Well…we’ll find a guy who can’t see for you,” I joked. “Or you could stop crying like a baby and put some makeup on.”

We fell into fits of laughter before returning to our school work. Suddenly everything seemed alright to Taylor, and she was her regular talkative self. Knowing she was okay made it hurt less to smile, and I kept it up for her sake.

*

True to our word, we went out the next night to one of the fraternity houses for another party. This party had a theme—“Office Hos and CEOs. Tay and I laughed at how ridiculous we looked as we started to get dressed. High heels, stockings, tight mini skirts and thongs, tight button-up shirts left open to show our bras. We completed the ensemble with ties loosely done up around our necks and dorky-looking glasses. I had to resist the urge to rub my clit furiously as Tay changed in front of me; the aching in my loins was so palpable I nearly moaned as she bent over to pull up her panties. But soon she was fully dressed, and as scantily as that was, it became easier to control my racing heart. Out we went for the frat party, again with a group of girls from our floor, all dressed like slutty secretaries. I had to admit it felt pretty kinky. The guys at the party were all in suits to start off, but everyone began shedding clothes as it got hot on the dance floor. Before I even had time to get my bearings, Tay was wedged between two of the brothers, grinding like she was a professional stripper. I envied those two guys so much, and excused myself from the dance floor to get something to drink. My anger didn’t hold up as the alcohol got to me, and soon I was back on the dance floor.

I was dancing by myself near Tay and my friends when he came up to me. I was buzzing pretty well, though not nearly as drunk as I had been at my last frat party, and thankfully so. If I had been that drunk I may not have realized how cute he was as he tried to dance with me. He was tall, probably around six foot three, and he was definitely a heavy lifter in the gym. Even in a button-up shirt and tie, I could see the muscles bulging in his chest and arms, and he grabbed my hips with powerful hands. It was equal parts intimidating and exciting as we danced. There was no doubt who was in charge. We must have danced for at least an hour, maybe two, without stopping or changing partners. My buzz wore off before he turned me around to face him. He had a strong jawline, dark hair and piercing blue eyes.

“We’re going upstairs,” he said over the din of the music and rowdy partygoers. One thing was clear—it was not a question. I nodded dumbly as he began to lead me to the stairs.

“Wait!” I cried out. I was very nervous to go with him, but the annoyance that flashed across his face scared me to. And, I thought, it aroused me. I had never been a submissive girl but this guy brooked no nonsense. “Let me just give my purse to my roommate,” I continued quickly. Relief flooded through me at his curt nod. He knew he had me, and so did I.

I found Taylor at the edge of the dance floor, taking a break from dancing to get her buzz back. We were both sweaty from the hot floor. “I need you to take this back to the room,” I said, my mouth to her ear. “And let me back in tomorrow morning, okay?”

“Oh my God, slut!” she yelled, grasping me into a hug. “Go have fun! But take a shot first.” She pulled a bottle of vodka out of the bag she’d brought. I didn’t think twice before throwing it back and drinking as much as I could handle. The alcohol would hopefully soothe my nerves before my fear outweighed my excitement. I handed her back the bottle and crossed back to where my nameless hunk was waiting.

His room was neater than I’d expected, though it still had frat house written all over it. Pinups covered the wall, along with what appeared to be some stolen street signs, posters, and various pictures.

“I’m Adam,” he said, in a deep voice. His hard gaze held me, but his hands were already at work unbuttoning my shirt. He loosened the tie and pulled it over my head.

“Emma,” I said, my voice thick. My head was starting to swim a little. I was glad to feel the vodka setting in. I was standing, wearing my bra—red—along with my gray mini skirt and the thong I had underneath. Even in my heels he towered over me as he stripped to the waist. If I could’ve broken away from his stare I would have been drinking in the toned muscles of his chest, his flat, sculpted abs.

His hands then reached behind me and unclipped the bra, tossing it aside. He pushed my shoulders down, forcing me to my knees, and still I couldn’t break my gaze. It wasn’t until he dropped his pants and boxers that I looked away.

What a magnificent rod he unveiled! At least nine inches long, thick and veiny and hairless. His balls sagged underneath the mighty shaft. I licked my lips nervously, but then his right hand gripped the base of the shaft as his left took hold of the back of my head, pushing my head forward. My mouthed opened to welcome the proud head of his cock, but he wasn’t stopping, forcing the shaft in until my mouth was touching the hand that held his cock. I couldn’t breathe and started to gag, trying to back out. His hand held me still.

“No you don’t,” he said quietly, removing his right hand from the cock and grabbing my head with both hands. And he started to fuck me in my open mouth. I still was struggling to breathe, coughing as he railed my face. My coughs covered his dick and balls in spit before he finally gave me a moment to breathe. As soon as I had taken a breath, though, he was back to fucking me. And that’s how it went for a solid ten minutes, he would slam into my face until I thought I was bound to pass out, then a second to gulp down hair, and the cycle would repeat. He was pushing me, I could tell, until I began to panic with his cock down my throat. And panic I did, struggling to breathe, to force my head back against the force of his hands.

One last round of face fucking and he threw me face down on the bed, pulling my ass towards him until I was in the doggystyle position. He pulled the thin fabric of the thong away to reveal my bald pussy lips. There was no time to complain about the lack of condom, nor to brace myself. He thrust forward and into me, grabbing fistfuls of my hair as he did. My head yanked back and I screamed. That was a mistake. The pounding never stopped, but I received a hard slap across my ass. “Shut the fuck up!” was the command.

I thought he was going to split me in half as he went to work. It was the biggest cock I’d ever fucked by a good two and a half inches, and I’d never had truly rough sex. He broke me in quickly, and soon I was begging. The only word I managed was “Please.” Repeatedly I begged, senseless, not even sure what I wanted, what I was asking for. It hurt, yes, but at the same time I could feel my juices flowing freely over his cock and I knew I would cum soon. The alcohol was making me dizzy, until all that existed was the throbbing between my legs, agonizing even as it brought me to a furious climax. My stomach tightened and I couldn’t hold my hips still as my orgasm ripped through me. “OH MY GOD!” I yelled, heedless of the potential consequence. But instead of slapping me again, he pulled out, his hands grabbing my hips as he did. I was back on my knees just in time for his cum to spurt out all over my face, his hand working feverishly along the length of his cock, still covered in my own fluid. He coated my face in his warm spunk, and I felt it dripping from my face to cover my small breasts. My eyes were squeezed shut, but it felt like he’d unloaded a gallon on my face!