Welcome to college: Freshman initiation with the senior sorority president [MF]

The freshmen on the team all stood in a circle outside on the basketball court, laughing nervously at what we’d just seen. The seniors had called us to the baseball house for what we thought was a team meeting to settle some differences in the squad, but it turned out to be an initiation ritual. They’d set it up for days, and we thought we were all fucked, in trouble, until they revealed that it wasn’t real and it was just a ritual sort of bonding exercise they did every year.

The seniors explained that we’d been doing this since the 70’s but that we were an especially scared bunch. I stood there and thought to myself that this was as good of a way as any to welcome freshmen to the program. I was happy to be there, I’d been an excellent player in high school, but didn’t exactly have college offers rolling in. But once I got into the school, the coaches agreed that I was worth taking a flyer on, since I was already going to be there anyway.

So I was on the team, learning what college baseball is like, competing on the field, adjusting to the long hours, making friends, blowing off steam after practice, all of it. I wasn’t used to baseball being an all-day, every day grind, and certainly I wasn’t used to the rigors of the weight room. I needed that, though, I was an absolute stick when I graduated high school, and I was already starting to appreciate the results in my body.

I loved it, being part of a team and playing my favorite sport. The team helped with some of the awkwardness of freshman year. As I noted in a previous story, I came into college without a ton of experience with girls or going to parties, and the parties at the baseball house had made me feel like I was really in college. I just felt like I belonged in a way that I hadn’t ever in high school.

The seniors led us inside. We’d gotten through the initiation bit of it, but they were still going to get us incredibly drunk as well. They lined us up against the wall and a gang of girls walked in. I have a good eye for faces, I’d seen a couple of them at the parties, but I didn’t know any of them. I assumed they were upperclassmen.

Each of us was assigned to one of the girls, and we were locked to them wrist-to-wrist and tasked with finishing a fifth between us. Of course, the girls had been told to make sure we drank the overwhelming percentage of that.

She walked up to me – a tall, beautiful blonde with her hair in a ponytail, with pursed, full lips and a look that said ‘you’ll never touch me.’ I’d seen that look before, in my experience, it meant that person was off limits to me, except here I was, locked to her wrist. She was thin and athletic, she clearly spent a lot of time in the gym. Her tits bulged out of her tight tank top, which managed to show off those and her stomach at the same time. She wore it over ripped light boyfriend jeans and white sneakers, and she was incredibly out of my league. I suppose that was the point.

“Hey, I’m Brooke,” she said to me. “What position do you play?”

I hesitated for a second, I felt awkward around her. “Pitcher. I’m Paul, by the way,” I managed to get out. It’s not like I forgot my name or the position I played, I was just uncomfortable with the situation.

She laughed at my discomfort. “You’re gonna need a lot of this,” she said teasingly, raising the fifth of cheap vodka to my lips. I choked it down, its harshness making me cough as I swallowed it.

She laughed and did it again, “More.”

That night is a blur in my memory, only bits and pieces. I remember Brooke taking a shot with me as we went through all the rooms in the house, drinking at each stop. I remember how it felt to have a woman like her on my arm, it was everything I’d ever dreamed college would be as I spent my high school years sexually frustrated. I remember the end: puking my guts out outside the house and passing out on one of the couches downstairs.

I woke up the next morning, feeling drunk nauseous and hungover nauseous at the same time. Groggy, I didn’t particularly catch most of what one of the upperclassmen was telling me about having to be sharp at practice that afternoon. Somehow, I managed to do well enough that day to not get kicked off the team.

I ran into Brooke a few days later at a coffee shop near campus. She smiled a knowing smile when she saw me, “Hey! How are you? I’m surprised you survived that night.”

I made an embarrassed face, “Shit, I remember puking.” I thought about it, “I didn’t puke on you, did I?”

She laughed, putting a reassuring hand on my shoulder, “No, you were cute, you made sure we got unlocked before you threw up.”

I threw my head back in relief, running my hand through my hair. “Thank god,” I laughed nervously. “I was a mess that night, my bad.”

“No, you’re fine! It’s supposed to be that way. You were actually better than most.”

I shrugged, “Well that’s a plus.” I felt more comfortable talking to her now since I knew I’d done it, even if I didn’t actually remember doing so. “It seems like you guys do it every year.”

“Yeah, our sorority has a thing with you guys where we always help with the initiation. You really were better than most, I promise.”

“Oh, cool,” I said. “Thanks I guess.”

She smiled again, “You gonna be there on Friday? I think we’re coming over.” She paused, thinking, “I run the social calendar, I should know that.”

Not knowing how to respond, I asked, a little awkwardly, “Oh, are you the social chair?”

“No, I’m the president,” she waved it aside, “You know, for my resume and stuff.” I nodded, I understood well the idea of resume-building for the sake of it. “But I’m supposed to know this stuff anyway.”

She smiled, grabbed her coffee, and waved as she left.

I was truly confused. If I was misreading the situation, then fine, probably nothing would come to pass from it. But if I wasn’t, and I was very unsure if I was or not, then what exactly was going on? Seniors like her don’t talk to freshman like me, I thought, even if I am on a team. And there wasn’t anything that could’ve happened that night to make me think otherwise. If anything, all I did was make a drunken ass of myself.

Friday arrived and I spent all day at the field, preparing to pitch in our intersquad game that evening. I threw a couple of scoreless innings, and soon enough, it was time to eat, clean up, and head over to the baseball house for the night. I threw on an olive green henley, tan chinos, and a backwards Niners hat. I was curious what the night would entail, I felt like I hadn’t really experienced college in a fun way yet (getting hazed and puking everywhere didn’t really count).

I got to the house and walked in. A bunch of the guys were sitting around drinking beers, watching a baseball game on the TV. Some of the others were playing beer pong in the dining room. I sat down on the couch I’d slept on the previous weekend, hoping I hadn’t puked on it. I sat there for a while and had a few beers as the house started to fill up and turned into more of a party than a hangout.

I was in the kitchen grabbing a beer from the keg when the girls arrived, a pack of maybe ten of them from Brooke’s sorority, led by Brooke. She walked into the kitchen, “Hey, you made it!” she said when she saw me.

I turned, “Hey, yeah, I’m here. How are you?” She looked absolutely incredible, wearing tight white jeans with wedges that made her legs look fantastic, with a small flowery blouse that simply could not contain her tits. Perfectly shaped and plenty big, they were definitely her best feature, even over the beauty of her face, her blonde hair curling down her chest and back.

She laughed at my awkwardness. “Looks like you need that,” she said in a playful tone.

“Uhh, yeah, I guess,” I said, taking a sip. It wasn’t good beer, and I winced a little at the taste.

She smiled again as she walked past me out of the kitchen, her hand resting on my arm as she went by. I still did not understand what was happening, but I resolved to just go with it and hope things turned out the way I was starting to dream that they might.

She’s right, you better drink a lot more of this, I thought to myself as I downed the cup, praying it would help resolve my awkwardness. I downed another one too before one of my teammates came in and asked me what I was doing in there by myself.

“Just getting a beer,” I told him as I went into the dining room to join the people in there.

In the dining room, I found my teammates and the girls playing a plethora of games. I walked over and joined one of them. One of the other freshman pitchers, Zach, a tall, thin righty, and I played beer pong against two of the girls.

Brooke came up behind me. “You guys better beat them,” she said to Zach and me, pointing to our opponents. “You’re the baseball players and they’re just freshmen.” We did, in fact, easily dispatch them.

Brooke smiled, “Our turn,” as she called over one of the other senior girls. She looked at Zach and me, “Loser takes shots.”

Zach and I looked at each other. “Deal,” I said. We played and narrowly lost, Brooke’s smile was a devilish one as she retrieved a bottle of vodka and a couple of shot glasses. She poured shots for all four of us, and her eyes stared straight into mine as those beautiful lips opened and she took the shot.

Zach and I stayed in the room and played games for a while longer, even after Brooke disappeared elsewhere in the house. I made sure to watch her as she left, my eyes fixed on her legs in her tight white pants.

I kept drinking, sure that I needed the alcohol to get past any awkwardness. I knew I was in the ideal zone, where I felt loose and confident in ways that I didn’t normally. That zone is far too difficult to hit, and I spent almost all of that year either too drunk and making an ass of myself, or too sober and feeling awkward.

I wandered around the house. The world was fuzzy and my thoughts muddled, but neither to the point where I didn’t feel in full possession of my mind. I felt warm and bubbly, confident and ready for whatever might come, not worried about any of the normal insecurities that plagued my mind.

Music blared out of the room of a friend of mine, so I peeked my head inside. There she was, her back to the door, her hands raised, her hair shaking with her body. There were probably ten people in the room, a perfect environment to cautiously feel this situation out. I put my cup down in the hallway and walked inside the room.

Brooke turned as I walked past her, trying to appear casual. “Hey, come here,” I saw her mouth at me. I walked over, unsure about what to do or where this was going. She grabbed my hands and placed them on her hips as she dug her ass into me. Okay, I thought, I have no business being in this position, but I guess this is how it’s going. I went along with it, my hips swaying with hers, breathing in her perfume as I bent down behind her to make our bodies closer.

We danced for maybe 20 minutes, urgently and somewhat incoherently. I spent most of the time trying to keep up with the beat and her movement, and not appreciating the situation or her body against mine. I am, however, sure she could feel my erection against her even through my pants. I was sweaty and tired from a long day of baseball, so I was thankful when she stopped moving, spun around, and put her hand on my chest, stretching up to say into my ear, “It’s late. You mind walking me home?”

I shook my head, and she led me out of the room and out of the house. We walked down the tree-lined streets, streetlights the only light, the late night fog of late summer settling down over the town. It was just chilly enough to make you feel it, but not enough to make the time miserable. I looked over at her, her face illuminated by the orange light of a streetlight, the hair on her arm standing from the chill. I reached my hand around her and pulled her to the warmth of my body, and she wrapped her arms around me in appreciation. She reached up, grabbed my hat, and placed it on her head, the brim falling down the back of her neck. I ran my hands through my hair and shook my head to undo the hat hair I was sure I had.

We arrived at her sorority house, brick and three-storied, the Greek letters above the door. She looked up at me, “You want to come in?”

I shrugged, “Sure.” Of course I did, but I wanted to seem casual about it, like I’d been in a situation like this before. I hadn’t, of course, and I’m sure she could tell, but I felt like I needed to keep things casual anyway.

She unlocked the door and led me inside. She gestured to the kitchen to her left, “You want something to eat?”

“I’m good,” I said as we walked up the stairs to the third floor. Her room was at the top of the stairs, with a nice view over the town. It was a classic college girl’s room – a bed covered in blankets and pillows with decorative patterns, a photo collage hanging on the wall, candles sitting on her desk.

“You have a single,” I remarked absent-mindedly, thinking of my own too-crowded dorm room.

“Oh, yeah,” she said as she lit one of the candles, it filled the room with a floral scent. “One of the perks of being the president.”

I stood in front of the door, my hands in my pants, unsure of what to do next.

“You gonna come here?” she asked, teasing me with her voice and her face as she leaned against the bed.

I smiled nervously, I’d been with a couple of girls at this point, but I’d never been in a situation like this. I actually wasn’t quite sure how things were supposed to go. She laughed at my nerves and naivety, her face brightening in an inviting manner.

I walked over to her and stood over her. She looked up at me, her eyes big and her lips, red from her lipstick, calling me in. I leaned down and kissed her, feeling the fullness of her lips and the stickiness of her lipstick on mine. One of her hands reached around me and pulled me closer to her, the other rested on my chest. I had both hands on her sides, pulling her blouse up and exposing her toned stomach.

She reached her hand behind my head and pulled me down even more forcefully onto her as she stood on her tiptoes and pressed herself against me, her beautiful tits hard and firm against my chest. She was completely in control, and I was just along for the ride.

She laid back on the bed and unbuttoned her pants. I helped her slide them off, her legs were as incredible as I’d pictured. Standing over her, I slid my shirt over my head, exposing my chest, which was still more thin than toned or built, but was, still, I assume, nice to look at. She also took off her top, and her chest was more magical even than I could’ve imagined.

I stood there and stared at her tits, her areolas small and circular, her nipples standing at attention, when I heard, “Hey, are you gonna come here or what?” from below me.

I shook myself out of my daze. “Sorry,” I said wryly as I slid my own pants down. I lay down on top of her, reaching a hand down to feel her shaved pussy over her white lace panties, rubbing her clit gently as I kissed her again, her body slowly writhing against mine. She controlled the kiss, her lips opening back and forth against mine, her tongue darting into my mouth and letting mine do the same to hers.

My other hand wrapped itself around one of her tits, enveloping it in my grasp and squeezing lightly. Brooke moaned softly into my mouth as I did.

“Stick your fingers inside me,” she commanded with another soft moan. I shifted my weight to give my hand free access, and I slipped her panties to the side and let two fingers slowly enter her pussy, coating them in her wetness, my cock digging a hole in her thigh. I built speed, letting her feel the strength of my forearms expressed through the two digits.

“Oh god,” she moaned loudly into my mouth as the fingers of my other hand tightened around her nipple, running it between them. She pushed my head down to her pussy, my fingers maintaining their rhythm as she did.

I’d only done this once before, but it seemed pretty self-explanatory, so I stuck my tongue out and started to lick her clit, flicking my tongue back and forth over it as my fingers slid in and out of her. “Don’t stop, right there,” she implored me. Her body tensed and without warning, she spasmed in an orgasm, her body shaking like she was seizing, her eyes rolling back into her head, her thighs clenching tight around my head, her hands pulling my hair.

She took a few seconds to catch her breath and let her body return to its normal state of being. She pulled me up to my knees on the bed and lay on her stomach in front of me, pulling down my boxers and letting my cock spring out.

“Mmm, not bad,” she remarked, her hand wrapping around it and stroking gently. She wrapped her lips around it next, her hand working in tandem with her mouth, those beautiful lips spread wide for it as she looked up at me. With one hand, I grabbed a handful of her hair and guided her up and down, engulfed in sensory and visual pleasure.

“Fuck that feels good,” I moaned as she sped up and took me deep into her mouth, her hand stroking me as she did.

I pulled her up to me and kissed her in appreciation, my hands holding the sides of her face as I stuck my tongue in her mouth, hot from my cock. “Condom,” I mumbled as her face broke away from mine. She pointed at the nightstand, and I grabbed one and rolled in onto my cock. As I did, she leaned over on her knees, her face in the bed, her ass and pussy facing up at me. Her ass was not as incredible as her tits, but it was firm and well-shaped from her hours in the gym.

I lined myself behind her and guided my cock into her, both of us gasping as it slid in. Both hands holding her hips, I slowly built a pace. She lay on the bed, her eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of my cock inside her, moaning in response to my thrusts. Her back arched and her moans got louder as I thrust harder and faster, pressing her upper body into the bed and pulling her ass to me. The slaps of skin-on-skin must’ve woken the whole house as I buried my cock inside her as deep as I could, letting her feel my length.

She moved onto her elbows and knees, her back arching as I grabbed her hair and held it with both hands as I continued to slam my cock into her. I pulled her shoulders back to my chest, her hair sweaty against me, her face contorted in pleasure as I squeezed her tits and felt them bounce with each thrust.

With a loud series of moans, she escaped my clutches and fell down to the bed as I continued to take her pussy from behind, my hands on her lower back, pressing her upper body down into the bed.

“Yes, yes, yes,” she practically screamed. With one long push, I pushed myself deep into her and stopped, I needed a break.

I pulled out of her and sat back on my heels. She collapsed down so she was lying on her stomach. She looked back at me.

“Give me a sec,” I told her, catching my breath.

She ran her hand through her hair. “I thought you were an athlete,” she teased.

“It’s been a long day,” I raised my eyebrows and shrugged as I crouched behind her as she lay prone on her stomach. She smiled and let out a long “Ahhh” as I entered her again, my hands spreading her ass wide for me.

I held her ass with both hands and watched my cock disappear into her, my thoughts lost in the moment and consumed by her pussy squeezing my cock. My grunts matched her moans as I felt myself getting close, and I reached my hands forward to grasp her shoulders for added leverage.

She screamed as I came, with three deep thrusts shooting cum, filling the condom. Spent, with three last, much smaller thrusts, I finished emptying myself, followed by a long exhale. I let my body fall onto hers, and as I pulled out of her, I kissed down her back, enjoying the feel of her soft skin covered with a thin layer of sweat against my tongue.

She turned to face me, and I kissed her again, as if to thank her for her part of the wonderful experience we’d just shared. I went to put on my clothes to leave, and I tossed her some pajamas in one of her drawers. She lay on the bed, her cheeks flushed, her hair messy and sweaty, in a t-shirt and panties, her body still as toned and sexy as ever.

I had to ask. “Why me?”

She shrugged, smiling, “Why not?”

She elaborated, “You’re cute, and I liked you the other night at the initiation. So tonight I kinda figured why not?”

I nodded, acknowledging her answer. It made sense, more or less. “See you around,” I said as I opened the door and walked out.

I saw Brooke periodically through the year, but she and I never hooked up again. She did, however, provide me with quite the beginning to my freshman year and to my college experience as a whole.

Source: reddit.com/r/gonewildstories/comments/7mtsxu/welcome_to_college_freshman_initiation_with_the