1. The Adventures of Dennis: Brie's Orgasm, or Betrayal


    Date: 11/12/2014, Categories: Straight Sex, Author: Tomjones88, Rating: 3, Source: LushStories

    than the other, and so far, Brent held the record; thirty-two girls in one college year. This was why he was the leader of the frat. At nineteen, I was the youngest dude there. Everybody treated me with half-admiration and half-backhandedness. They let me drink their beers and come to certain events but they called me The Basic-Virgin sometimes. We had to compile our conquests in some way shape or form. Some dudes made porn movies with their girls. Others took pictures. Some did audio recordings. Most—including me—wrote them up in stories. We had our own secret website where we posted everything and all the stories were judged each week. So far, Trey held the record for the best stories; his work spanned all mediums. This made him second in command. Of course, there were rules, all of which I had no problem with. We used pseudonyms for all the female figures—real names would get us forced out (apparently, the frat had almost been exposed a couple years back, when one of the girls found out about the video he had posted, sued him, and won). Underage sex was an absolute disgrace, and Brent even said he would go to the police if he heard about it. No otherwise freaky, kinky, or illegal stuff (I don’t need to go in to specifics). Summer conquests didn’t count. If anybody slept with an escort or a prostitute—expulsion. And I was repeatedly told not to talk to anybody about this frat. Don’t even mention other member’s names. “There are rumors that go around about us, but nobody ...
    believes them,” Trey assured me. Before I was officially inducted, I would have to bang this one girl in the sister house— Jesus, we have a sister house ? That’s what I said as soon as I heard. Yes, we did. They were even smaller; only nine of them. But we were having a Schmooze -- that was what they called a party—on Friday night, and I had better be there. Brie and I woke up from our afternoon nap. The sun was setting through her windows. I looked at her bare legs and her pink slip. I massaged them with my hand. “Mmmm,” she said, stirring. “Do you have to go?” “Yeah,” I said. “I gotta go.” I got dressed and we stood in her doorway. “What are we?” Brie asked. I shrugged and walked away. I was chatting up Melissa. She was a blonde with a few piercings, wearing a white blouse and jean skirt. She was in the sister house. We sipped beer as we stood to the side of the beer pong table. “I’ve had enough of Holocaust jokes,” I said. “Anne Frankly I’m just sick of them.” She cackled and bounced her head against my shoulder. She was very drunk. “I wonder if I’ll be lying on that table later on,” she said looking at the beer pong table. This was about the sixth overt sex reference she’d made that night. “I dunno,” I said. “Want to try it out?” I had been joking when I asked it, but, as seems so often the case with me, it actually happened. First, we played spin the bottle—kissed the first time the bottle pointed at me, I felt her up the second, I fingered her and she felt my cock the ...
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