The Scavenger Hunt

Here is the official first chapter of The Scavenger Hunt. The prologue, The Scavenger Hunt Ch. 00, sets this whole thing up, and is a must-read to understand what's going on here. Go check it out and throw it a vote.

This is as close to a stroke story as I've ever written. The future chapters are longer and more plot-driven, and this one is more of a quick-hitter just to get the first objective out of the way.

Thanks to samuraisan, my editor and beta reader, and Thatsbogus, a fellow author on this site and also a beta reader. Any errors left are mine -- they caught a ton of 'em.

The Scavenger Hunt: Chapter 1

Plain and simple, I liked regular Mondays as much as a fat kid likes Brussels sprouts. The Monday right after Spring Break? Yeah, give me a root canal minus the anesthesia instead. Compared to going back to class after a week off, castration merited at least a little thought.

It was already 1:30 p.m., so that was something, but I was still dead to the damn world. I just had one more class to go, but it was Accounting 201, hands down the most painful of my spring schedule. Once that was over, we had a doubleheader against The Citadel, one at 3:30 and one at 6.

It was a word I'd been using a lot lately, but... fuck.

I'd sat down with the e-mail for about an hour the day before, but I didn't make much progress on who I was going to go after in each class. Jamar got home around noon, and the partying had begun in earnest about an hour later. Between the two of us, the rest of the baseball team and most of the women in our neighborhood, all the beer in the fridge was gone now. Jamar had added a few new items to the familiar trail of women's lingerie, but none of it had found its way into my room. Jamar was disappointed in me for going to bed by myself, but he changed his tune when I told him it meant more for him. It wasn't for lack of opportunity, but none of the women at the party were in my classes, and I figured I'd try to save my bullets, so to speak.

About the only decision I had made Sunday was to ease into this scavenger hunt. Sure, I'd had enough sex in my 25 years to last a couple lifetimes, and sex with six or seven women in two months was nothing I hadn't done before, but I'd never used a checklist to keep track. Besides, several of the girls in my classes were in more than one, and college girls were nothing if not gossips, so I could easily see this getting ugly if I wasn't careful. There was really one class I was pretty sure about already. Truthfully, it was probably the only reason I even went to Accounting that day.

I got to the classroom a little early, and was pleased to find that Brianne Hill was the only one there so far. The hot blonde was just shrugging off a windbreaker and settling into her chair when I walked in, and instead of sitting in the back of the room like usual, I took the seat next to her.

"Hi, Brianne," I said, flashing the best smile I could muster for a Monday afternoon. She flashed an equally brilliant smile back at me.

"Hey, Travis," she said, turning her deep blue eyes on me. "How was your Spring Break?"

"Pretty good," I admitted. "Wore me out, though. I thought you were supposed to come back from long breaks rested and relaxed."

She laughed. "You do know you're in college, right?"

Objective no. 5 of the e-mail said the girl had to be dating a friend of mine who wasn't in the fraternity. Unlike the married woman objective, this one caused me no moral hang-ups. Marriage means lifelong commitment, but dating is just that -- going on dates. Sure, a few of my friends were in committed, long-term relationships where something more permanent was likely to develop after college, and I wasn't going to fuck with those, but a lot of my friends were casually dating multiple women.

This is where Brianne came in. She and I had been in a couple of study groups in an earlier accounting class, along with her boyfriend T.J. and a few others. T.J.'s older brother, Simon, had graduated from high school with me, and T.J. and I had drank beer together on more than one occasion. We weren't friends in the truest sense of the word, but we were friendly acquaintances.

I thought of T.J. as Brianne's boyfriend, but from what I understood, he was really more of a placeholder. They'd been friends with benefits since freshman year, and they were just keeping each other's beds warm until a long-term partner came along. They certainly did plenty of things together outside the bedroom, though, so any normal person would think they were dating, which met the requirement.

Brianne had always flirted very suggestively with me during those study groups, and she'd gotten touchy-feely with me on a couple of occasions, so I didn't think it'd be hard to convince her to be an accomplice in this little game. Besides, I knew of at least two other guys who had hooked up with her. T.J. might have been her main booty call, but he wasn't the only one. I'd heard that he dated at least one other girl as well, so I didn't imagine he'd be upset if I slept with Brianne.

There's not enough ink in the world to document all the times I'd be wrong over the next few weeks, but that would go down as the first time.

"So, what are you doing here so early?" I asked. The class didn't start for another 15 minutes. "I figured half the class might not show up anyway, it being the first day after Spring Break."

"Trust me, I thought about it," she said. "But, I'm struggling in this class. I need to be here every day, and getting here early can't hurt. Maybe Dr. Walters will give me brownie points for that."

She laughed, and I immediately saw my way in. Despite a burning hatred for the class, I was doing quite well in it. I remembered from our group projects that Brianne didn't always get the concepts as well as the rest of us, and she'd skipped her share of classes, too.

"I'd be glad to help you out some, if you want," I offered. "Lord knows I hate this class, but I think I understand it pretty well."

Her eyes lit up. "Would you? I always understood things after you explained them to me, when we studied together last semester. I don't think I'm too far off, I just need a little help to catch up."

I chuckled. "Of course. Just let me know when works for --"

"Tonight?" she asked, eagerly. She batted her eyes at me suggestively, and I laughed harder.

"I'd love to, but we have two games tonight. First one is in a couple hours, actually. I'm done with practice tomorrow at six, though."

She wouldn't take no for an answer, shaking her head at me. "If your first game starts that soon, you should be done by like 8, right?"

I grinned. "That anxious to get this stuff down, huh?"

"Sure," she laughed.

"It'll be more like nine by the time we finish post-game and I get showered up. Wanna meet me down at the Union?" Sure, I knew what I wanted, and I was catching her body language hints, too. But I wasn't going to be that forward yet.

She was.

"Um, no," she said. "You remember where my dorm room is from last semester, right?"

********

"Great game, Temple," a voice from the bleachers said as I left the dugout. I spun around and quickly found it.

"Tyson Sanders," I said, dropping my equipment bag to shake his hand as he walked over to me, a stunning brunette on his arm. "Thanks for coming out here, man. Nice to actually play in front of people. I am a little surprised, though."

"Surprised?" he asked. "Why?"

"You're the president of the frat," I said. "Don't you have some pledges you can send to campus events like this on your behalf?"

He laughed, as did his arm candy. "I'm sure I do," he said. "But then, I don't know if I'd believe you had that kind of game if I hadn't seen it myself."

I led the league in stolen bases, and I'd added three more to that total during the doubleheader. That was a pretty low two-game number for me, but it's hard to steal bases when you're not on the bases. I'd hit a homer in each game and had tripled twice as well. I'd scored six of the 14 runs we scored across both games, and driven in seven. Plus, I'd made a couple of plays at shortstop that would have made SportsCenter if ESPN gave half a damn about college baseball.

"Yeah, it was a pretty good night," I said. "Glad you were impressed."

"I was," he said. "What about your pledge task? Would I be impressed if I knew how that was going?"

I stole half a glance at the girl on his arm. I'd never seen her before, so I didn't think she was his girlfriend. Though, rumor had it that he usually had a few of them, so I didn't really know. Either way, she probably wasn't in the know about this. I wondered what he was trying to do by asking me the question, but I just smiled and rolled with it.

"Not yet, no," I said. "But maybe in a couple hours, you'd have something to smile at."

"Good, good," he said. "You know, it's pretty rare that we accept a sophomore pledge."

"Well, I'm a pretty rare guy," I said. I wasn't normally so full of myself, but I knew that was what he expected, and I kind of wanted to end this conversation quickly. Not only because I didn't want to get myself in trouble by saying too much, but because I knew what was waiting for me.

"Of course you are," he said. "That's why we pledged you."

I looked at the girl again, and he finally noticed.

"I'm sorry," Tyson said. "How rude of me. Travis, this is Jamie Tarver, my new girlfriend. Jamie, Travis Temple, one of our pledges."

She didn't say anything as she shook my hand, but she did smile brightly. I smiled back as widely as I thought I could get away with.

"Nice to meet you," I said. "Tyson, would you mind if I got going? I need to get this uniform and this body in the wash."

"And you have some studying to get to, too, no doubt," he said, making me wonder if he could possibly already know what I had planned. No way word had traveled that fast, especially considering I hadn't even talked to Brianne during or since class. "Keep up the good work."

They walked away, Jamie sashaying her ass from side to side as they went. I wondered as I headed toward the parking lot if that wasn't at least partially for my benefit.

************

I showed up at Brianne's dorm room a little after nine, pizza and beer in hand and my laptop over my shoulder. I didn't expect that we'd actually study, but I wanted to be prepared in case I'd read her completely wrong.

"Was starting to wonder if you were going to blow me off," she said as she opened her door to let me in. The sing-song of her voice indicated she was already ahead of me on the alcohol. Her green tank top was a size too small for her slight frame, showing off a flat stomach and stretching tightly across her tits, and her black athletic shorts rode midway up her thighs.

In short -- if we were going to study, I was going to have to sit facing away from her.

"Nope," I answered when she closed the door. "Just took a little longer than I thought. I needed to clean up a little first. I thought you might appreciate it if I didn't smell like I just played two baseball games."

She chuckled. "I dunno," she said. "Sweat really works on some men."

"And the others?"

"Well," she said, gesturing toward the bathroom in the hallway, "that's why we have showers."

"Next time I'll just come right over, then," I grinned. She raised an eyebrow at my mention of 'next time,' then returned my smirk as she sat at her desk. To my surprise, her accounting textbook was open and spreadsheets covered the table.

"You really understand this stuff, huh?" she asked, motioning at the stack of printouts Dr. Walters had given us in class that day.

"For some strange reason, yes," I answered. For the next 45 minutes or so, we devoured Papa Johns' finest and washed it down with the Sam Adams I'd lifted from the fridge when Jamar wasn't looking. In between, I did my best to differentiate between credit and debit, walk her through how to read accounts payable and receivable spreadsheets, and explain depreciation in a way that wouldn't put us both to sleep.

I'd done my best to ignore the ample amount of skin she put on display for me, and for the first half hour or so, I was mostly successful. Halfway through my fourth beer, however, it was growing more difficult to focus on accounting. She'd been standing behind me, and she hadn't wasted an opportunity to rub her tits against my back and neck. Occasionally, I'd glanced at the floor to sneak a peek at her smooth, tanned legs, and the thought of what lay between them had me pretty turned on.

"We're out of beer," she said from the kitchenette while I did a few calculations.

"I only brought six," I said. "You don't keep any?"

"I'm not a beer girl," she replied. "I'll drink it, but I prefer harder stuff."

I couldn't let that pass. "You do, huh?" When I turned to look, she was holding a half-full bottle of Jack Daniels. It was positioned right between her tits, so I couldn't help but notice her nipples trying to slice through her shirt.

"Mm hmm," she answered, twisting the top off the bottle. "How about you?"

I got up and walked over to her as she took a swig. "Hard suits me just fine," I said. She put the bottle in my left hand and placed my right hand on her left breast. I chugged a couple of shots' worth of whiskey as I tugged on her nipple. I wasn't gentle.

She moaned as I handed her the bottle back. "What about you?" she asked. "Have anything hard I can play with?"

"See for yourself," I replied and moved her hand toward my crotch. My cock was rapidly stiffening, and she rubbed its length four or five times as she took another drink. When it was my turn, she gave me back the bottle and pressed her chest against mine. With my free hand, I pulled her ass hard against my hips, rubbing my cock against her pelvic bone.

I could feel the burn in my throat as I drank her whiskey. When I was done, instead of handing her the bottle back, I set it on the counter. I tossed a look at the homework on her desk.

"I think we're done with that for the night," she said, following my glance. Brianne quickly closed her laptop and pushed the papers and book onto the floor. She tried to push me onto the desk, but I was a lot stronger, so she couldn't stop me from doing the same to her.

She spread her legs slightly, and I pushed my hand between them, rubbing her already damp pussy through her shorts. Our tongues battled as we feverishly made out, her sitting on her desk and me standing between her open legs.

"Off," I said with one hand on the waistband of her shorts. She got the hint and lifted her ass to slide her shorts down as I knelt between her legs. I noticed a yellow thong buried in the shorts as they hit the ground.

"Yummy," I said, now face to face with her freshly shaven pussy.

"Did that just before you showed up," she said. "You like?"

"No," I deadpanned, shortly before burying my tongue and lips in her snatch. I wasn't messing with foreplay tonight -- we'd been working ourselves up since I'd arrived at her room, so we were both plenty ready. Still, I've always loved the taste of a woman's juices, and I wanted a little sample before we got down to business.

"Jesus, Travis," she said, threading her hand through my hair to hold me in place. My nose repeatedly rubbed her clit as my tongue darted into her pussy, drawing her juices out with every return trip. My hands slid up to her chest, and I started toying with her nipples through her shirt.

It didn't take long before her moaning increased, and I pulled one hand back down and quickly jabbed two fingers into her slick hole. My tongue and lips shifted north to her clit, alternating between rapidly flicking it and sucking it into my mouth.

"Fuck!" she shouted. She bit the back of her hand to keep from crying out as she came, gushing her juices out onto my fingers. I moved my tongue back down and lapped up as much as I could before standing up.

I'd been vertical no more than a second when her fingers went to work on my zipper, stopping only to let me take off her tank top. When we were both naked, I picked her up and carried her to the bed, laying behind her in a spoon position. She willingly lifted her right leg as I lined up my cock.

"Don't go easy on me," she said, licking her lips as she looked over her shoulder at me.

"Don't worry," I answered, and plunged my cock into her pussy in one fluid stroke. She hissed her approval, right about the time I groaned out loud.

It wasn't the tightest pussy I'd ever been in, but after an entire afternoon of anticipation, it was just what the doctor ordered. I sawed in and out of her for at least 10 minutes, mixing up the pace and length of my strokes frequently. I reached around and gripped her right breast in my palm, using it for leverage as I really pounded my cock into her.

She came twice more in that position, then asked me to roll onto my back. I did and she rewarded me with an excellent view of her ass as she mounted me in reverse cowgirl. First Jamie, and now this -- if nothing else, the last two hours had certainly been a success in the ass-viewing department.

Brianne did most of the work, bouncing up and down on my cock ferociously, never letting me slip out completely. She started on her knees, but after a few minutes she sat up and placed her feet on my thighs. The harder she slammed down onto me, the harder it got to control my rapidly approaching orgasm.

"Fuck me, Travis," she said, and I latched onto her hips. I held her mostly still and fucked up into her, impaling her on my cock over and over again. I couldn't stop myself from laying a few palmstrikes on her bubbly ass as I fucked her, but she didn't complain.

I felt her fingers around my cock as she rubbed her clit, and I know she came at least one more time before the pressure that had been building in my balls for the better part of two hours became too much to handle.

"You going to come, baby?" she asked me, nearly out of breath. I could only grunt something that sounded vaguely similar to "yes." She practically leapt off my cock and knelt beside me on the bed.

"Good," she said. "About fucking time."

With that, my eight-inch cock disappeared between Brianne's soft, pink lips. Less than a minute later, I was ready to explode.

"Cumming," was all I could say. I expected her to pull off and finish me with her hand, but to my delight, she kept going to town. I unleashed a torrent of cum into her hot mouth, and she handled most of it before letting the last few drops dribble from the corners of her lips.

When she was sure I was finished, she collapsed next to me, her left arm splayed across my chest.

"That was soooo fun," she said. "And I am soooo drunk," she added, laughing.

"I'm right there with you," I answered. "Gonna have to call my roommate for a ride."

"Don't worry about it," she said. "T.J. isn't coming over tonight, and my roommate stays off-campus most of the time. You can stay here. I mean, if you're okay with that."

I was. Most guys are scared shitless of sleeping over with a woman they're not serious with, but I never had that problem. As long as both people knew the score, I didn't see the issue. I knew I was just a fun fling for her, and she was just part of my little fraternity game. Sleeping next to her for the night wasn't a big deal.

Something in her statement did set off warning bells, though.

"I appreciate it," I said, lazily stroking her tits as we talked. "T.J. spends some nights here, huh? I didn't think you two were serious."

"A lot more in his mind than in mine," she replied. "We used to just be fuckbuddies, but lately he's been telling me he doesn't want me to see other people. I've never agreed to that, but I'm pretty sure he thinks he's the only one."

Well, shit. There was nothing I could do about it now.

"We'll just have to keep it that way, then."