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The beginning of pledging. A time to learn about yourself, your pledge brothers, and how many Greek push ups you can do with a stomach filled with dining hall food. Along this journey to become a fraternity man, we build the closest of bonds with our pledge brothers. On one particularly unholy night, I became exceptionally close to one of my fellow pledge brothers named Cranston.
It was a Saturday night and my pledge class was setting up for the weekly “open” party at the fraternity house. Around 10 p.m. the first packs of freshman girls with daddy issues were beginning to show up in droves. Cranston and I had already started guzzling down several cups of the fraternity’s signature jungle juice as the dance floor began to become alive.
As the night raged on, Cranston noticed Ashley, the smoking hot Latina girl from his U.S. History class. Ashley was feverishly dancing to a dubstep remix of Katie Perry’s Firework with another equally attractive belly shirt-wearing female, Rachel. Thanks to the liquid courage of the chapter’s signature drink, Cranston and I approached the two drunken dancers and exchanged a few words with them. After a pong game and too many drinks later, we started feverishly grinding on our respective girls, like middle schoolers trying to have sex with their clothes on. “Dancing” turned into full on make out sessions and it was looking like we would not be spending the night alone in our elevated twin sized beds.
The party was winding down and Rachel, Ashley, Cranston, and I thought it was a good time to leave. We started walking the girls back to their respective apartments when we found out that Ashley and Rachel were actually roommates. I was psyched about the news, but Cranston was nearly unresponsive because he was out of his mind plastered.
We stumbled into their apartment and Rachel broke out a big bottle of Pinnacle. Rachel forced us all to take shots, which we gladly accepted, except for Cranston, who had the thousand yard stare by this point. Out of nowhere, Cranston jokingly asked the room if we would wanted to have a foursome. We all looked at each other and laughed for a few seconds. The girls smiled and said that they were totally down, as long as we had condoms. Cranston and I were in complete disbelief that they accepted the invitation to Orgy Fest 2016, and we were more than ready to go through with it. The only problem was we forgot to bring rubbers.
Cranston and I seemed to have slightly sobered up after realizing what was about to happen. We ran out of their apartment like the Blues Brothers, on a mission from God, all the way to our dorm to gather a handful of rubber companions.
When we returned, the girls were still taking shots and started up a sex playlist that they made while we were gone. The girls went into the bedroom and got undressed, and Cranston and I were getting ready for what was about to go down. After getting the green light from Rachel and Ashley to enter, Cranston and I shook hands and went in like two Marines breaching the doors of a terrorist hideout.
The lights went out and the private after party had taken off in full swing. Rachel got into a Muslim praying position on the floor and started an oral presentation on me. I looked over to see that Cranston and Ashley skipped the foreplay and got right into the horizontal hokey pokey. All was right with the world for the first ten minutes, until something terrible happened.
The dreaded whiskey dick started to grab hold of my family jewels and all feeling seemed to have escaped my body. I went from having a mighty sword to being cursed with a wilted flower. In an attempt to resuscitate my dying organ, I started taking care of Rachel, while I beat my meat like Rocky in the last round with Apollo Creed.
All seemed lost, as one minute turned into ten, and my lack of blood flow was threatening to bench me for the rest of the game. But a light of hope shined down upon my comatose package when Ashley insisted on helping Rachel return my member to full power with their mouths. Dual mouths. As if my soul returned to my body all at once, my dick rose from the alcoholic ashes into a beautifully hard phoenix. The girls laughed in excitement and I was ready to restore honor to my family name with my average sized warrior.
Cranston and I pulled off the classic Eiffel Tower, we traded the girls to each other, we broke some of the furniture, we even ventured to other rooms in the apartment, all while on the brink of black out.
Hours passed and the sun started to come up, as I came down from my buzz. I realized that I was still somehow performing in doggy style with Ashley, and she was still somehow into it. I finally erupted like Mt. Vesuvius as Cranston and Rachel came out of the shower. Without many words exchanged, Cranston and I left the apartment as the birds on campus started to sing their praises in the distance.
It did not take long for the rest of the fraternity to hear about the sinful night that we had with Rachel and Ashley. We felt like legends. We occasionally saw the girls on campus, but we never spoke of our one night in Slam Central Station. We made our pledge class proud, we made our postulant educator proud, and we forged a new sense of brotherhood in the fraternity.
Cranston and I became very close that night, but not even close to touching each other..
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