Chapter 1 - Arrival

Right on the dot at 7 AM, just as Diane had promised, a sleek black SUV pulled up in front of my place. Part of me doubted it would happen until the door swung open, and the driver emerged. He was a kindly older man with a friendly greeting and a great smile. He effortlessly put my suitcase into the trunk and held the door open for me with a polite nod.

As I got into the car, Diane’s sight took my breath away. She was there, radiant as ever, her smile lighting up the dim interior. Leaning over, she kissed my cheek softly, whispering, “Happy you could come.” She looked stunning, dressed casually yet elegantly in stylish pants and a form-fitting button-up shirt that highlighted her figure.

“Happy to be here,” I replied, my heart beating rapidly.

When Diane had called me out of the blue a week ago, inviting me to a mountain getaway with her and some friends, I was stunned. After all, we’d broken up six months earlier and had barely spoken since. The idea of spending a long weekend in the mountains with her, alongside seven of her sorority sisters and their partners, was unexpected. Yet, here I was, going on an adventure that promised a mix of fun and excitement and perhaps a chance at rekindling something lost.

“It will be four days of alcohol, games, fun, and a lot of sex, I promise.” Diane had said when she called me. She had tried hard to convince me to join her for the weekend.

Diane’s idea interested me, so I asked her to tell me more about it. What she shared sounded hard to believe. It was all about a unique weekend competition for her sorority, happening right as she was about to graduate. The best part? There would be a competition, and the girl who won would be named Queen Bee.

“The thing is, nobody knows what the competition involves until it happens. It’s been a big secret for a long time,” Diane said excitedly. “But winning is a big deal. Every Queen Bee becomes successful. We’re talking about famous people here—leaders, movie stars, scientists, and sports stars. If you walk into our sorority house, you’ll see walls full of their names. And it’s not just the winners; almost everyone who takes part does well.”

Listening to Diane, I couldn’t help but feel amazed and a bit excited for her. This weekend wasn’t just a simple trip to the mountains but a chance for Diane to change her future. And for me, it may be a chance for me to change my future.

Diane continued that she was required to bring a partner that could be trusted, and hence, my name popped into her mind. She fully trusted me, and I was street-smart and liked sex. She had added that there was a good chance that it might not be just sex with her.

“So what’s with the sex thing, and why do you say I would potentially have sex with your sorority sisters?” I had asked. “Is this some kind of orgy?”

“I can say little about it, mainly because I don’t know the details.”, Diane said, “but I had to sign a contract just to even be in the running.”

Diane went into the details of the form. It had the usual stuff about not revealing details, being healthy, not pregnant, etc. But further on, it talked about agreeing to be nude whenever asked and participating in sexual activities with the other participants of the competition and their partners.

“Did you really sign up for it?” I remember asking, a bit stunned.

“Of course,” she’d answered without hesitation. Diane explained that turning down such an opportunity was unheard of among her sorority sisters. Even the most reserved or those in serious relationships didn’t hesitate. The allure of the Queen Bee title, with its promise of guaranteed success, was too strong to resist.

“Whatever happens during that weekend, you just deal with it,” she’d said, her determination clear. To her, the potential rewards far outweighed any risks involved.

Diane was always bold, never the type to shy away from a challenge, so her decision didn’t surprise me much. Still, I wondered about the others who had agreed to participate. It seemed like a big commitment, but I was not very familiar with the sorority’s culture and the value of this tradition.

As our conversation continued, Diane filled me in on the specifics: the pickup time, how all the expenses would be covered, and that all I needed to worry about was packing some clothes. The more we talked, the more the idea grew on me. It sounded like a real adventure, and possibly reconnecting with Diane felt like a cherry on top. So, I said yes.

Our breakup hadn’t been ugly or bitter. It was more about timing and where we were in life. Diane had felt too young to settle down for good, and we were both curious about what else was out there. There was also this undercurrent of us being from different worlds. College life was her realm, where she thrived and outshone me in many ways. Sometimes, I couldn’t shake off the feeling that our background and intellectual differences might have burdened her.

Despite the challenges, our relationship had its bright spots—moments of deep connection and understanding where it felt like we could share anything. I always believed that our different kinds of intelligence actually complemented each other well. I made up for what I missed in academic or book smarts with street smarts. I had a knack for navigating real-world situations and connecting with people that maybe didn’t always connect with Diane. This balance between us often felt like a unique strength, not a division.

The journey with Diane turned out to be quite enjoyable. The car was stocked with plenty of alcohol, and we took full advantage of it. My curiosity hadn’t waned, and I prodded Diane for more details. Still, she reiterated that she’d already shared all she knew over the phone.

Curious about the company we would keep, I asked, “Do you know who else will be there?”

Diane had been briefed a few days earlier and filled me in on the guest list. From her description, the attendees seemed like a group of high achievers who didn’t need a title to secure success. Diane scrolled through her phone to show me some photos: a lineup of blondes, brunettes, and a redhead, ranging from cute to model-like pretty.

The drive lasted about four hours, and we drifted off somewhere in the middle. Waking up, I found us pulling into the driveway of a large wooden chalet. Set against a backdrop that screamed of exclusivity, it felt miles away from the ordinary. Smaller chalets dotted the landscape, and a small town was visible in the distance. It was easy to imagine this place transforming into a busy ski resort in the winter. Now, it seemed like an idyllic spot for summer hikes.

As we stepped into the entrance, we were met by a warm welcome from an elegant older black woman, who I guessed to be in her mid-sixties, accompanied by an imposing Great Dane. It impressed me that she seemed to know our names without any introduction. She gave us a chalet tour with a gentle smile, eventually leading us to our bedroom. Each couple was assigned a private room with a small bathroom boasting a shower. The central area of the chalet was expansive, featuring an open kitchen that invited gatherings and shared moments.

What caught my eye, though, was something we hadn’t noticed from the road—a massive barn connected to the main building via a discrete hallway. It had been repurposed into a vast meeting room, likely the hub for the upcoming competition. However, this area remained strictly off-limits for now, shrouded in mystery and anticipation.

“That’s Penelope,” Diane explained in a hushed tone as if unveiling a secret. “She’s sort of our mother superior of our sorority. You rarely see her in person, but I have been told she’s pulling the strings behind the scenes. That’s how it has been since I have been in the sorority. There’s a rumor that she once competed for the Queen Bee title but couldn’t win it.”

The bedroom was cozy and well-equipped. A large, sturdy wooden bed stood at the center, flanked by two comfy chairs. A sizable mirror hung on one wall, and a spacious desk sat nearby. There was also a small TV, which only offered a few channels.

“After settling into our room, Diane smiled at me. ‘I promised you sex,’ she said. ‘Want to go see if our parts still fit?’”

That sounded like a great idea to me. We had been in a relationship long enough to be comfortable with each other’s parts. And as it happened with most couples, we had our routines. For us, it often started in a sixty-nine position as a warm-up, one of Diane’s favorites. Then we moved to a missionary position with her legs wrapped around me until she orgasmed. After her orgasm, she would turn around and have me use her ass until I put my cum inside her ass. Often, that would cause her to orgasm again. Diane always put me in her mouth after I finished to clean my cock, no matter which of her holes we had used. It was something she had heard about in a Kevin Smith movie as something that bad girls do and, therefore, had made it part of her habits.

“One of the many reasons I like butt stuff. You still get to feel the load of cum, but there is no cum dripping down my legs afterward.”, Diane said with a smile as we walked out of the room.

All the bedrooms appeared clustered together, with six on the left and six on the right. The other two rooms were likely unoccupied, with eight couples in attendance. As we made our way from our room to the living area, we were greeted by some of the other couples.

“So how was the bed?” a browned-haired girl asked. It turned out her name was Heidi. “We heard you try it out. It sounded fun.”

Diane remained composed, showing no sign of embarrassment or reaction. It was evident that Heidi had overheard us having sex. I assumed that perhaps others had as well, considering the creaking wooden bed. Diane introduced Heidi as one of her closest friends. Diane displayed photos of her sorority sisters on her phone during the car ride. She also assured me not to concern myself with their partners. Apparently, they were inconsequential to the competition.