I felt like I’d just dozed off when a gentle hand on my shoulder began to shake me. “Brad – this is our stop,” said a female voice.
I started to say I wasn’t Brad, but then I remembered I’d told that name to the two gorgeous girls I’d boarded the bus with. One thing had led to the next, and they ultimately asked me to “chill” with them at their sorority house. My pheromones guaranteed what they meant by “chill”, and it sounded like a good way to lay low for a few hours until I could find out if my actions at the mall had resulted in a manhunt. Right now I wasn’t sure what the fallout would be, but my response was leaning towards “run like hell”.
I stood up in the aisle to let them file out, and Erica went first. She was the taller of the two. and when she bent over to pick up her shopping bags she “accidentally” ground her ass against my crotch. That constituted restraint, since inhaling my pheromones for about a half hour had probably left her spending the last ten minutes trying to think of a way to fuck me in the bus seat. Amita, her sorority sister and roommate, hip-bumped Erica off of me and said, “Save it for the dance tonight.”
Erica was a slender white brunette with mischievous green eyes and Amita was East Indian, with medium-dark skin and a dancer’s toned body. Erica’s denim shorts just barely covered the curve of her ass, while her transparent blouse did more to show off her yellow cross-hatched string bikini than hide it. While Erica looked like she’d just left the beach, Amita’s loose-fitting electric blue running shorts and sports bra were straight out of a gym’s “reasons to go here” ad. Her top was just thin enough to leave no doubt where her nipples were, and tight enough to keep her cocoa-brown cleavage in view.
As we worked our way off the bus, I felt a few female hands caress my ass as I went by. I really wished that my alien resurrectors had given me an off switch for my pheromones, but I guess that would’ve gone against their goal of spreading their evolved genes as widely and as quickly as possible.
As the bus drove away, Erica and Amita led me down the street towards their sorority house. Their well-formed asses oscillated in front of me with a conscious, practiced strut as we walked a mile or so past large multi-story houses with Greek letters.
The weight of both girls’ shopping bags in my hands was actually refreshing. It’d been decades since I’d been this strong, and my 1940s sensibilities demanded that I demonstrate a little bit of old-fashioned chivalry to the girls – at least, until their inevitable impregnations. That outcome was a foregone conclusion today, but I hoped to get some rest before I had to get back on the run.
The front door to their sorority house was unlocked, and Erica swung it open and waved me in. “Entres vous,” she said in a mock French accent. The house was a bit small compared to most of the others, but Amita contributed that this was the smaller of their sorority’s two houses.
The first thing I noticed was a scent of potpourri candles, and the second was a cozy assembly area in their front room. The floor was faux wood paneling, accented in a few places by small rugs.
“Our room is upstairs,” Erica said as she checked a mail cubby by the door. “And house rules say that male visitors must leave by 8 – but that doesn’t matter if no one knows you’re here.” She winked and added, “It’s not like they’ll check, unless we’re really loud.”
I nodded. “And I officially accept your invite. What’re the plans for tonight?”
She grinned. “Costume rave, actually. Our sorority’s going as faeries – that means fake wings, sheer dresses, and body glitter. Others are doing Catholic schoolgirls, nurses, you name it.”
She paused for a second before she added, “You can come with us. Each of us is allowed to bring one non-Greek along, and neither of us had dates picked out.”
I grinned and said, “Sounds fun! What’re we doing until then?”
Amita nudged me in the shoulder and said quietly, “Let’s go figure that out. C’mon, before house mom sees us and makes you sign in.” She turned and walked up the stairs in front of me, and Erica and I followed. Her shorts were a work of art which revealed every curve of her early-20s ass. It was impossible not to enjoy the view, and my dick hardened a little in spite of myself.
In my position, a normal college guy would nervously micro-analyze his every move in a desperate, often counter-productive attempt to avoid messing up his chance to get laid. But my pheromones meant that sex was a foregone conclusion at this point, and all I really wanted right now was a nap before Amita and Erica inevitably took things to the next level.
Erica shouldered open their bedroom door and sat down at a desk across the room, and I selected a beanbag chair near the closest bed. The door clicked shut behind us as Amita locked it, then sat down at a bed right inside the door.
Amita plucked a t-shirt off her dresser, then slipped it over her sports bra and fumbled around underneath until she sighed with relief and pulled her bra out from under the shirtin an impressive feat of agility. Her shirt was plain and white, and far from loose-fitting. I’m sure she intended for me to notice her nipples poking through the shirt, but I avoided making any comments. I still had hopes of taking a nap before getting her pregnant.
Erica’s arms were up, her hands resting on the back of her neck as her expression begged for my attention. As soon as I made eye contact she asked, “You’re not a prude, are you?”
I shook my head, and Erica grinned widely. “Good,” she said – and pulled the string on her bikini top. She smirked saucily as she stretched and arched her back, effectively topless.
“Erica!” Amita gasped out as her friend’s bikini top hit the floor.
“Oh Amita, lighten up. You took yours off too,” she pointed out.
I smirked, leaned further back into the beanbag chair, and folded my hands behind my head. “Not like I object,” I contributed.
That was an understatement on my part. In spite of myself, there was a hard-on sticking up from my pants like a flagpole, and Erica definitely noticed it.
“I bet he doesn’t object,” sighed Amita. She arched her back a little, her nipples straining at her shirt as it rode up and exposed a few inches of firm, flat midriff.
Erica sauntered over to the beanbag chair, taking effort to ensure I noticed her breasts through her see-thru top.
“You don’t mind sharing, do you? This is my favorite spot,” she said. The warmth of her skin seeped into my side as the curve of her left breast pressed gently into my side.
I shrugged and slipped my arm around behind her back. “Sharing makes the world go round,” I said resignedly. Inwardly I sighed, realizing my nap wasn’t going to happen. And after the yelling and the screaming started, who knows how many more girls would come to investigate and stay for the orgy?
“Now Erica, that chair looks too small for the two of you,” Amita chided.
Erica giggled. “It’s fine – unless of course you were planning to join us?” she asked.
Amita’s cheeks flushed so red that I could see it through her cocoa-brown skin as she stammered out, “Well… yes, I’d like to.”
Amita’s bed was a typical girl-nest piled high with pillows, and she almost looked small when framed by them all. But I didn’t want to see the girls start fighting over me, so I interjected, “How about we move it to the bed, ladies?”
Erica cracked a half-smile and playfully punched me in the side. “Think you’re getting lucky or something?” she asked.
I wistfully replied, “I know I’m getting lucky.