Carrie

Carrie lived on my corridor freshman year, and by halfway through the first semester, it was clear that she was on the fast track to join the campus's rather infamous partying sorority, Sigma Lambda Tau. How she managed to stay off academic probation is beyond me; I can only imagine what kept up her grades, given that she did not seem very keen on attending class.

She had bleached blonde hair, and occasionally let the roots of her natural brunette grow in enough to see that she chose to be blonde, and was not born that way. She was of medium height and a slim build, though a still-small beginning of a pot belly showed the effects of the freshman fifteen plus that she was slowly but steadily putting on with calories from beer and pot-induced junk food consumption, combined with an almost willful lack of exercise. She had a very attractive face, though it was more sexy than it was pretty, with full, almost obscenely plump lips (think Angelina Jolie), and long eyelashes. She often wore low cut jeans that clung to her smallish ass, and "accidentally" allowed the twin straps of a thong to creep up her hips and above the pants' waistline. Rounding out the package and drawing the most attention from those of the opposite sex was her ample chest, a pair of disproportinately large D-cup knockers that she didn't hesitate to flaunt with low cut or tight fitting shirts.