Dress Contest

You stand outside the Theta house, an intimidating four story brick structure that you had to ask a random guy on the street how to get to - the sorority houses are scattered all around campus, unlike Frat Row. You can hear Ariana Grande’s voice blasted through the windows, and so it’s no surprise that nobody answers the doorbell. After ringing it two or three more times to no avail, you give up and text Tatiana.

Hardly a minute passes before the door bursts open, and an unfamiliar girl looks you over suspiciously, her brilliant green eyes striking you. She’s tall, with brunette hair that flows down to her waist, and just as your first dirty thought pops into your head, she waves you in. With her back turned to you as she walks into the house, you take the chance to admire her toned ass, and the nice fixtures - the girls here must be rich.

“Hey, I’m Alex,” you say.

She waits three long seconds before responding. “I’m Michelle.”

Michelle

“So, where’s Tatiana? Did she send you because she couldn’t find the door or something?” you ask, doing your best to make some conversation.

“You’re here to ogle the girls and pick who looks hotter,” she says, without looking back at you as she ascends a flight of stairs. “They want to present themselves in style, not by opening doors for some blathering freshman.”

“I see,” you say, not really understanding where this hostility is coming from.

You pass a room where three girls wearing skimpy clothing are lying on a massive couch with wine glasses in their hands. Their chatter briefly pauses as Michelle and you walk by, and you hear soft giggles after you pass them. You notice that Michelle and the girls didn’t so much as acknowledge each other.

You pass by several more locked rooms, and then Michelle stops by one of them, knocking a couple times. “Come in!” a feminine voice calls out, and Michelle cracks open the door. A hand slips Michelle a red blindfold through the door, and she turns to face you for the first time since entering the house.

Wordlessly, she wraps the cloth several times around your head, and as she ties it off, the world falls into a uniform maroon tone. Michelle takes your hand, whispers a soft, seductive, “follow me” into your ear, and guides you through the door.

You hear the hushed voices of girls whispering and soft jazz (where did the Ariana go?), while Michelle guides you toward some corner of the room. She presses a hand down on your shoulder, roughly lowering you onto a couch. She gives your head a quick pat, and then you’re left on your own.

You continue to hear hushed whispers from around the room - though you can’t make out individual words, it sounds like three people to you. One of them falls silent, and then after a while, you feel a lithe body press against yours, and an arm slings around your neck.

“We can’t let those two girls have all the fun, can we?” a girl with a southern twang says. “Now, close your eyes. Picture the two girls in your mind’s eye. Tatiana, that Russian beauty, all legs and a figure to kill for. Imogen, with that delicious ass of hers and curves in all the right places. Let your mind run free, and your imagination soar. You liking what you’re seeing?”

She runs a hand across your chest as she says this, and you find yourself dumbly nodding. Then, the door opens, and you hear the characteristic clacking of heels.

Michelle +1