Getting to the Greeks

It might as well be a building from the 20’s or 40’s, back when classical architecture was in style again. A large building with three floors, a balcony, a pair of chimneys shooting up from the roof, and four Tuscan columns, or so Nathan says as you two park and climb the stairs as he holds your arm to keep you from running off in nervousness. He rings the doorbell, and the wait is horrible. You experience the full gamut of emotions as people are clearly celebrating and someone moves to answer the door. Meanwhile, Nathan is the very picture of serenity and inner peace. At least, compared to you.

You stand in your poofy, slutty dress as a cool wind blows up your skirt forcing you to push it down so people don’t see your caged cock. It is in this manner that the Greek House door opens. The man standing at the door is a six foot hunk, obviously a sports player of some kind. He is dumbstruck for a minute so Nathan takes charge.

“Hey there big boy, my name’s Mandy. My friend is Candy. You said that you all were having a celebration and wanted some accompaniment for a celebration? Or are we wrong?” The man finally wakes from his stupor and wipes his eyes. He opens the door wide, letting you both come in.