Chapter Two

“She’s eating now. Not a lot, but definitely chowing down, and that blue-haired slut is pouring her some spiked punch.” Jay reported, peeking around the kitchen door. “Hot damn, but Fae hoes have slappin’ bods! Talk about thicc, dat ass was custom-built for twerking.”

“Focus on Heather, not the fucking fairy, Dude.” Dale frowned, searching the cluttered countertop for something as the caterwaiters came and went with platters of bite-sized food. “Where’s the rest of it?”

“The rest of what, Bruh?”

“The ****, moron.” He snarled, sifting through mounds of chip packets and soda bottles. “You know, the golden powder we just paid a small fortune for? What’s it called again?”

“Do-Me Dust. And… ah, it’s all out there.” Jay inclined his head towards the revelry growing louder outside. The DJ was already spinning out some sick beats. “Mixed into the food and drink. Like you told me to.”

“ALL OF IT?! Dude, there were over ten baggies of the stuff! Did that Fin guy ever say how much was safe to take?”

“Not to me, but he did compare it to pot. Nobody ever OD’d on a little weed, right?”

The two frat brothers shared a troubled look before turning their gazes out the kitchen door. Bodies crowded the manor’s interior, spilling out onto the front lawn. Laughing, dancing young bodies that ate and drank freely of the gold-tinted fare generously on offer.

Jay let out a slow breath. “Party of the century, Bruh.”

Heather had Prilla sit close to her after letting Charlize and Stacy loose to mingle. It was a social event, and they would ensure everyone knew Delta Xi Gamma was in attendance, gracing this little shindig with their vaunted presence.

Reputation was the hardest form of currency. It opened many doors and had to be constantly maintained lest the value drop.

It wasn’t that she wanted the dirty Fae’s company–those supernaturally voluptuous curves disgusted the sorority starlet–but she needed to keep the stupid creature within easy distance, readily at hand for another tongue-lashing.

“Cease fidgeting, girl. It’s undignified to squirm.”

“Sorry, Madame President.” Prilla whimpered. “It’s the atmosphere in here. Can’t you feel it getting hotter?”

Heather didn’t feel anything of the sort other than a slight light-headedness from the punch and a pleasant prickling of her skin. She took another sip of the sweet cocktail while inspecting her prey with a critical glare.

“Why are you sweating so much? It’s not that warm.” The sheen of perspiration made the changeling’s perfect porcelain skin faintly glow. Then she noticed the wide violet eyes darting to male figures grinding against their female counterparts on the packed dance floor. “Wait, are you feeling… aroused right now?”

“I can’t help it. There’s so much raw passion in the air.” Prilla sobbed, head hanging in shame. “It’s like slipping into a hot bath. Submerging me in–”

“Stop that. Stop it at once!” Heather roughly seized the trembling Fae’s forearm, painted nails digging cruelly into her flesh, and jerked up the hand bearing a cheap aluminum ring. “Remember your vow of chastity, pledge. Heavens forgive me, but I’ll die before letting a fat-chested cow ruin this night for meeeeeeeee~!”

Her venomous tirade ended in a shrill scream that was drowned out by the thundering bass from a nearby speaker when a jolt of electricity leaped from Prilla, ran up Heather's arm, and grounded itself in her center.

“Sorry! Fuck, shit. I’m so sorry, Miss President.” The azure-haired fairy babbled, fumbling the honorific in her panic. “I don’t know what that was. There’s something magically amiss at this party. I can sense that much now. It’s everywhere, but I can’t pinpoint the source.”

Heather swooned, suddenly feeling the heat as Prilla fussed over her. It was stifling and giddy. How had she missed it before? Goosebumps coated her flawless skin, and the sheathlike emerald club dress felt tighter, more confining as she fought to catch her breath.

“A drink… something cold.” She gasped, pushing the useless Fae harlot away. “I’m fine. Just need… a minute… to cool off.”

Prilla vanished, only to return with two crystal cups of pink punch seconds later. There were pastry crumbs around her plump lips, and her jaw was working furiously to masticate a stolen mouthful of food like a starving street urchin.

Heather would punish her harshly for that infraction later. Right now, she needed to quench the fire kindled in her burning core and escape public scrutiny before anyone clocked her less-than-pristine condition.

She threw back the drink, not registering Prilla doing the same with her own glass, but rather than dousing the blaze below, the sweet liquid fueled it like motor oil.

Pulse quickening, she clung to the azure-haired fairy. Something was terribly wrong.

“Help me upstairs. I can’t be seen like this.”

Jay chugged down his fourth solo cup of beer and wiped his smiling mouth on the back of his hand. The party was bussin’, everyone was vibing, and Dale’s plug had delivered the gas.

All the attendees were getting lit, even those avoiding the booze, as they all descended on the food like schools of ravenous piranha. The music was pumping, and the air felt charged with the cut-loose freedom and horny energy of youth unleashed. Some poor but incredibly enjoyable decisions lay in everybody’s near future.

The walls and hallways were already lined with couples–and even some throuples–of every conceivable combination, necking and groping desperately at each other, only breaking apart briefly to breathe and swill back drinks laced with a certain golden dust.

He smiled at his boi Tyler, swapping spit with two cheerful coeds in a corner. A stacked blonde had her hand down the front of his slacks while a petite Asian with white bows tied in her inky tresses cooed adoration into his mouth. Tyler’s hands pawed their firm asses through close-fitting clothing that looked a size too small, even on the daintier of the two.

Jay’s eyebrows rose upon spotting two of his freshman pledges practically dry-humping in the hollow under the stairs, then shrugged it off with a grin. They wouldn’t be the first fudge packers to join Beta Theta Fi, and the brotherhood prided itself on being open-minded and progressive, so long as they respected the brotherhood’s boundaries.

He’d pull them aside later to have ‘The Talk’ about acting discrete.

Damn, but he was feeling great! Amped up and ready to smash some college puss. Jay had ditched the necktie and blazer, unfastening the top couple of buttons on his shirt somewhere around the third beer to expose a swath of muscular chest.

He wasn’t the only one popping buttons either. More than a few fine ladies had narrow blouses and clingy dresses opened low in the front to facilitate fuller cleavage bulging out of an eye-catching variety of colorful bras. Those that hadn’t were tugging absently at necklines stretched taut over swollen tit-flesh between flirting and laughing with each other.

Jay realized that the female guests trended towards the top-heavy while grabbing a full cup of beer off the pong table and taking a gulp. Thick in the hips and booty too. Plenty of girls opted to wear short skirts and little dresses to these mixers, but not usually so daring they had to keep pulling and adjusting them constantly or risk flashing their panty-clad asses.

That was great, he decided, floating through the crowds on a cloud of heady buzz and growing boner. Honestly, the well-built jock preferred some cushion for the pushin’. Full and fertile with curves to latch onto as he railed them senseless.

A woman should look like a fucking woman, in his opinion, not like the skinny bihs Dale was so obsessed with.

He circled the busy dance floor where a few couples had graduated from rhythmic grinding to less-than-subtle PDA in the crush of gyrating young bodies. Logan–a junior on a basketball scholarship–had a lithe, busty redhead **** tits-first against the thumping concert-sized speaker with her pastel green minidress hiked up as he thrust madly into her dripping snatch from behind.

The ear-splitting music drowned out her rapturous wailing.

“Hell yeah. Party of the century.” Jay pumped an emphatic fist in the air, watching three excited sorority girls pull down their overly tight tops to bounce breastily to the beat in front of the DJ booth. “Party of the goddamn century.”

His cock throbbed in his pants, pushing hard against the pressed cotton fabric. Several promising prospects shot smoky glances his way, but Jay was in the mood for something more… exotic.

That blue-haired Fae skank had been thicc to the ****. Mouthwateringly lush and ripe. A juicy forbidden fruit he ached to sample. It was risky. Beta Theta Fi would expel him from their ranks if he were caught canoodling with her kind.

But that only made the idea all the more distracting.

So distracting, in fact, that Jay passed a slim redhead and tall coffee-skinned stunner, stripped down to their size-zero underwear and scissoring each other enthusiastically on the living room couch for a chanting male audience without looking their way.

“Delta Xi Gamma! Delta Xi Gamma!”

Things are sure warming up at the party. Advanced chapters can be read on my BuyMeACoffee page for the low price of a single cuppa Joe. Cheers, and happy reading!