Sigma Epsilon Chi - Marsha
I was lying across the bed, boning up on Sociology for a test Friday, when I heard the sound of the lock. This wasn't terribly surprising, since Karen or Melanie had been dropping by pretty much every day since I'd signed up as a "mascot" for Sigma Epsilon Chi. Hell, on occasion they'd even dropped by together. But it promised to be damned inconvenient (I couldn't
believe
I was thinking that!) if they were showing up for some boytoy action right now. I had to study for this test!
I looked up and whatever I was going to say died in my throat.
It was Marsha.
Oh, shit.
* * * * *
Even among the more-than-usually-libidinous ladies of Sigma Eps, Marsha stood out. She was a devotee of what we'd probably refer to today as Extreme Sex. Want just one example? One of her lovers had accidentally cum on her face - just a little bit - when she was giving him head; a week later, she organized an orgy with just her - and fifteen guys from the Sigma Eps stable. By the time it was over, she was glazed from head to foot like a whole box of Krispy Kremes. I'd seen the pictures. Phil, one of the survivors of Marsha's Cum Orgy, told me he'd never seen anything like it.
"There were
fifteen
of us, man. She'd have one guy in her mouth and another in her pussy, and sometimes one in her ass. As soon as one of 'em came, she'd motion someone else over and jump on him, too!"
And now she was standing at the side of the bed, looking down at me like a shark that's just spotted dinner.
Eek.
"Nick."
"Marsha." I tried to sound interested - but not all
that
interested - but it was a wasted effort. All I was wearing was the lower half of a pair of sweats, and she could tell at a glance just how interested I was.
Marsha looked just like Tinkerbelle - a five-foot-three Tinkerbelle without wings. Her blonde hair was cut in a short shag, she had naughty blue eyes and a smile that made me wonder if she ever got lipstick on her ears. Her round little butt was packed into a pair of faded jeans and she wore a blue chambray workshirt with the sleeves rolled up and the top three buttons undone.
"We've never been formally introduced," she purred. "I thought I'd drop by while I have a free period and" - her gaze flicked pointedly to my crotch - "get to know you better."
Oh, geez. Less than three weeks with Sigma Eps and they're tossing me to Marsha the Maneater? (And yes, they really called her that!)
Well. I couldn't really afford to turn her down, could I? I had to get "approved" by at least six members of the sorority, and so far I only had two. Besides, she was just so damn
cute
!
"Maybe I could do Sociology later," I conceded.
Her grin grew even broader as I sat up and she sat down beside me. "I hear Mel and Karen have signed off on you," she said. "Want to try for number three?"
Oh, yeah. Sitting there in jeans she must have put on with a spray gun and giving me the full benefit of her cleavage, and she expected me to say
no
? So instead of saying anything, I just pulled her into me, feeling her arms wrap around my back to pull herself closer still. The softness of her cheek was against my face and it suddenly became impossible for me to resist kissing her.
Her lips were soft and warm and very, very talented. She kissed slowly but thoroughly, a sensual caress with lips and tongue that melted every circuit in my brain. I pulled her shirt away from her shoulder and pressed my lips to it, working my way up to her neck while I undid more buttons. I unbuttoned her jeans, unzipped them, pulled her shirt off entirely. Yes, that might seem like rushing things, but not with Sigma Eps girls and not with Marsha in particular. She wore a lacy black bra with a front hook and her tits were all but spilling out of it. I unhooked her, removed it entirely and as she leaned into me they pressed against my bare chest. Her nipples were hard and stiff; so was I. I leaned down, taking one nipple into my mouth, between my teeth, nibbling gently, biting down just a little. It was apparently the right thing to do, because she moaned and her eyes rolled up. I laid her back on the bed. She giggled throatily as I wrestled with those thrice-damned jeans, working them over her hips and finally dropping them to the floor, panting like I'd run the Boston Marathon.
She was naked beneath them. That was convenient. Her pussy was completely bald, something I'd never seen before. Trimmed, yes. Completely shaved, no. Her lips were swollen and flushed-looking as I slipped one finger gently between her folds. She gasped - WAAAY out of proportion to anything I was doing - and I realized all the hype about Marsha hadn't been hype. I fingered her lightly, feeling her warm juices coat my finger, then I slipped a second finger inside her. Another gasp. I played with her a little while longer, eliciting more moans, and then realized that I was still dressed.
I stood up and quickly dropped my sweats to the floor and crawled onto the bed next to her. Her hand immediately went to my cock, squeezing it tight and giving it a couple of leisurely strokes. I sat with my back against the head of the bed and crooked a finger at her. She crawled over to me slowly, giving me an eyeful as she went. "Come on, sit down in front of me - your back against my chest." She obeyed, raising up slightly as if to impale herself on me. "Not yet," I said, while my mind screamed
YOU IDIOT!