Chapter 1

Woozy from chugging beers at the Cornier Bar, I had no clue about what the excitement was about. But Todd Wheatley said, “Jerry Willis just came in ... and the girl with him is the one who is going to do it?”

Along with the fourteen other guys at the table who were looking toward the door I made out Jerry Willis coming through the crowd. “She” whom Bill Barton referred to, walked ahead of Jerry as they penetrated the crowd. She wore dark blue Bermuda shorts which were popular with the coeds at the time and a matching sweatshirt with “BF GOODRICH” blocked in yellow letters across the rise of her breasts. She stood about 5’4,” and had a great-looking body with a curvy, wasp-like figure and average-sized breasts. Her face framed by a pageboy hairdo was plain but attractive because of her gorgeous smile and dimples. Her ballerina’s legs complemented the nice package that included her nicely formed, compact behind. Something was up; the expressions on my fraternity brothers’ faces seemed like those of kids waiting in line for their first ice cream cone. Completely in the dark.

Jerry was President our fraternity Delta Xi, our fraternity which had just won the trophy for the highest grade-point average for the year. We had taken second several times but never won it. Being a natural competitor Jerry was tired of taking guff from his contemporaries who continually ragged him that Delta Xi just didn’t have what it took scholastically. This was his last year, and he was thrilled. When he and the girl finally made it to the table he said, “Hi guys I’d like to introduce Marcia Zillich.” (She smiled broadly). A few guys said, “Hi Marcia,” one said, “Welcome,” and another “Good to see you,” a couple gave nervous waves, thinking they were being cool.

When hearing her name goosebumps pimpled my forearms and the back of my neck. I had heard her spoken of in the fraternity house before. Jerry Willis was the quarterback and captain of the Cuyahoga Springs High School when they won the state championship. Marcia Zillich was the head cheerleader and Jerry’s steady girlfriend as well as his next-door neighbor who was his first sex partner. But that was when they were fifteen when she and her father moved next door.

Marcia’s father was a doctor who at the behest of B.F. Goodrich spent a year in what had been French Indochina. When the French were defeated at Dien Bien Phu they left the country which was renamed Viet Nam. The company owned rubber plantations in south Viet Nam. Marcia was a teenager who because her mother had died was taken on the trip with her father. Because of an Incident in Viet Nam which will be explained later Marcia experienced something that left her with a sexual appetite that was well above normal and became promiscuous. Within a year of moving to Cuyahoga Springs, she was known by many of the boys as “the nymphomaniac you most wanted to be close to.” It was Marcia who in their junior year in high school introduced Jerry and his backfield to their first gangbang. The next year Jerry, a driven competitor, used Marcia as motivation for his teammates to win the state football title where he treated his backfield to a gangbang with Marcia.

At the Corner Bar that night Jerry introduced Marcia around the table and, as he made the introductions Marcia smiled and offered her hand to each of the brothers as if she were a political candidate. Most of the guys appeared tentative, nervous, or both. When it came to my turn to be introduced I didn’t expect to be included (I usually went home on Friday nights so I could work at the gas station all weekend. But she gave me the sweetest smile and said, “I’m pleased to meet you, Toby.”

I saw Jerry whisper something to Marcia who gave a smile of agreement and nodded her head. He said, “Okay guys time to go.” Most got right out of their chairs; a few hesitated and looked at one another like they had no clue of what they were supposed to do but reluctantly got up. Not expecting to be part of the group I stayed in my chair next to my roommate who wasn’t a member of the fraternity. Looking at him I shrugged and said, “Such is life.”

“What’s that all about,” he asked.

“I haven’t got a clue, Lenny,” I said, (there was no need for anybody who was not in the fraternity to own such damaging information). I’d been around enough to know that when one girl went to a party with sixteen guys it involved a special kind of math: How many times can sixteen go into one? The answer could be sixteen, thirty-two, or forty-eight depending on the time allotted. But that doesn’t take into consideration that multiple portals which may be used. So coming up with a logical equation for the problem is extremely complicated. Besides, the saying, “loose lips sink ships,” was a watchword I took seriously. Anyway, as I watched Jerry and his entourage leave I just kept my mouth shut.

As the brothers filed out Marcia and Jerry were the last to go out the door. Just before they left I saw him bend his head down to Marcia’s upturned face. Marcia looked back toward the table where my roommate and I were sitting. She appeared to be whispering something in Jerry’s ear. Jerry looked our way, nodded his head grinned then headed back toward me at the table and said, “Marcia thought you would be coming too.”

Puzzled about why she expected me to be included I was mystified. But there had been something that passed between us when we were first introduced that I couldn’t explain, maybe because I was Chance Wakefield’s kid brother, which both pleased me and made me uncomfortable. Knowing that he wouldn’t be coming, my roommate slugged down the last quarter glass of his beer and said, “See you in the morning, Tobe.” I knew he would want to know what had gone on which, if it turned out to be what I expected, I would never divulge.

Because it took more time for Jerry to come and get me the rest of the guys were well ahead of us. The fraternity house was on Main Street less than a quarter mile from the Corner Bar. Marcia, holding Jerry’s hand, seemed totally comfortable and even excited about what was going to take place. She asked me, “How old are you, Toby?” I told her I was just a freshman but was nineteen. Her eyes lit up and she gave a nose-snorting smile that indicated some kind of mysterious knowledge.

Jerry said to her, “Toby’s brother is the guy you met at the going away party that you did for him.”

“Jerry,” she said peevishly, “You’re talking as if I don’t know Chance. He’s the guy who treated me so nicely at the party. He was so sweet.”

“I’m sorry Marcia,” Jerry said, “I always get uptight when we’re headed to one of these things.”

“But these are your fraternity brothers, Jerry.”

“That may be true Marcia but that doesn’t mean there can’t be one asshole whose lower nature can be brought out by beer and sex.”

“I don’t worry about that Jerry,” Marcia said, You’re always there to protect me.”

There was a momentary silence that lasted for too many steps when I asked, “Do you go to school at Kent Marcia, or are you at Akron U?”

“I don’t go to college, Toby. My dad got me a great job at B.F. Goodrich. He’s head of their medical staff at the main plant. I’m a lab tech. And I’ve kind of started a business of my own.”

Most girls I talked with who didn’t go to college usually talked defensively about why they weren’t going to school, or where they worked. But with everything I observed about Marcia, she seemed comfortable which made me think If this is the Marcia Zillich I’ve heard about she’s certainly well put together mentally. I felt comfortable with Marcia who, for some reason seemed to be interested in me. Or maybe I was just a kid overcome by false assumptions.

When we got into the house one of the guys closed the drapes. Jerry stood in the middle of the room and said, “All right guys, we’ve got to establish some ground rules.” After a couple of sarcastic remarks, he said, “That’s right, ground rules. Get used to it.”

“First and foremost Marcia is our guest. She will be treated that way at all times. Despite what nasty names might be going around in your minds Marcia is a lady and will be treated that way. Sure, she’s different from any girl you might have known, and she has a comfort level with sex that few of you will ever understand. Marcia Zillich is a better friend to me than I deserve. As my friend, she knows how important this scholarship trophy is to me—gesturing to the trophy case—and is glad that the hope of the reward of this evening provided the impetus for its achievement.” He paused and scanned those present.

“Marcia and I have talked about the layout of the house and have determined that none of the bedrooms will work. They all have two upper and lower bunks which are against the wall and won’t allow the kind of access that a party of this kind needs. So we’ll use the dorm. (The dorm was the attic with eight single bunks). Marcia is the expert and I have to agree with whatever space in which she feels more comfortable.” He gave her a quick grin which she returned.

“When I give Marcia the floor you’ll be impressed at what a pro she is.” She whispered in his ear. “Oh yes, I know there are varying degrees of feelings about Toby Wakefield being here, mostly pissed-off ones. He is indeed a pledge and the scum of the earth—he gave a sly smile—and it is also true that he had nothing whatsoever to do with Delta Xi winning the scholarship trophy. It wasn’t my idea to include him. But Marcia made it a special request...”

Marcia spoke up, “A demand, Jerry.” She looked at me with a mysterious smile and flashed it around the room.

“Okay a ‘demand’,” Jerry said. “Anyway most of you know that Chance Wakefield was a special member of this fraternity ... he was and is my best friend. When I told her Toby was Chance’s brother she insisted that I go back to the Bar and drag him up here. So there’ll be no bullshit tonight about Toby Wakefield, ok?” He looked around. To a couple of brothers who were scowling, he said with a glower, “OK?” They shrugged and nodded. “Okay, here’s Marcia.”

To loud applause, stamping of feet, hoots, and whistles Marcia stood in the middle of the room grinning and waving like the Pope. There was no question of how comfortable she seemed to be in the scenario. “Okay, okay,” she said after curtsying and bowing a couple of times. “Time’s wasting fellas, let’s move on.” The brothers who had been acting from shy and squirrely to obnoxious and celebratory quickly became silently attentive.

“There’s a lot of BS that goes on among men,” Marcia started. “I know that some of you have gotten laid before, but I think that there are at least a few of you who are still virgins. I’ll secretly rejoice with you that it with me that you are losing your cherries tonight.” For some reason, she looked over at me and gave me an almost imperceptible smile, which probably indicated to the uninitiated my virginal status.

With a slight tilt of her head, she silently said as much to me then continued, “I’m so pleased that you have won this trophy,” gesturing to the trophy case, “and I’m so happy that I am Jerry’s gift to you for this achievement. He loves this fraternity very much. And I am proud to deliver what Jerry has promised. I want you all to know that I dearly love sex; love its joys and its nastiness. I love men and I love your cocks. I love sucking and I love fucking.”

She paused while the brothers hooted and stamped their feet. “I’m looking forward to enjoying every bit of what you can give me. I’m looking forward to your enjoyment and appreciation for what I bring to you, what you contribute to my body, leave in or on me is your gift to me.” She paused for a few moments amid muddling conversation to let the outlandish things she said sink in. “I promise that by the time tonight is over I’ll be satisfied as long as all of you are satisfied.”

Holding her hands up for attention the conversation quickly dwindled. “Some of you will last longer than others and some of you will cum almost immediately. But I want you to enjoy yourselves and I want to enjoy you. I am here for the night, I’m in excellent shape and can take whatever you can give me ... if you want me more than once my body is yours. There are no limits as to how many times you can have me.” She laughed, “Only in the number of times you can get it up or cum.”

After the laughter and hoots died to an expectant silence she said, “I’ll take you in groups of three. I don’t mind as many of you watching as want to, but I’ve found that three is a logical number for me to deal with at one time in a situation like this—at least for starters. It’s the best way I’ve found in groups like this for me to keep things from getting out of hand. As the night goes on if you have questions about something kinky you would like to do just ask me and I’ll let you know if it is ok ... most things are. And I’ll direct you if I see that something different might work.”

“If any of you are too shy to be naked with other guys fucking, it’s time to get comfortable with your minds and bodies.” She opened her arms, “And you’ll probably like this: I am completely disease free; my father checks me regularly. There’s no need for condoms.” There was a burst of applause, whistles, and hoots. “I like feeling real men inside me with no barriers. And I like men to cum IN me and ON me. And except for my getting it in my eyes, feel free to cum on any part of my body.” She looked over at Jerry and asked, “Anything else?” He shook his head and said that he was cool.

“Ok guys; show me the way to the dorm so we can get naked and party.”

Seventeen people, sixteen students, and an adult female climbed up one flight of stairs past the bedrooms and main bath with two showers, thru the locker room with the card table in the middle of it, then snaked up the narrow, twisting flight of stairs to the “dorm.”

The attic, where one could only stand straight up in the center where the beds were placed lengthwise across it, was a large dingy space that stretched the length of the house. It was painted beige. Eight bunks spaced two and a half feet apart were in a rank under the peak of the roof. There were two windows at each end and two more dormered ones on either side of the roof. Between the two windows at each end in was a 48” wardrobe. At the foot of each bed, where the roof sloped low, was a military-style footlocker placed on the floor. At the head of each bed was a low three-foot chest of drawers with a table lamp. Two overhead lights on the ceiling cast a shadowy glare in a room that was too large for just two lights.

“Wow,” Marcia said with sarcasm in her voice, “You guys live in the lap of luxury.”

There was an accepting laugh among the brothers. Like a drill sergeant, she took control, pointing to three bunks in the center of the room. “Take the covers off these three beds.”

Shaking her head and guffawing like she was thinking I can’t believe I’m DOING this she went on, “We’ve gotta use more than just one, it would be completely soaked by the time we’re finished here. Push those five beds toward the street together so we can create more room in our ‘playground.’ You fellas who aren’t fucking me (she shrugged and grimaced) or whatever kind of perverted thing is being done to me, will want enough room to see the show.”

When the beds were stripped and placed to Marcia’s satisfaction she said, “Turn on the table lamps at the head of these three beds and turn off of these damned overheads, I hate this glare.”

Satisfied with the arrangement the Sergeant clapped her hands and said, “Okay buckaroos let’s strip down for action. I’ll put my clothes on this footlocker here; it’s just for MY stuff.” She pulled her B.F. Goodrich sweatshirt off over her head folded it and placed it on the lid of the footlocker. Standing in her blue Bermuda’s wearing a pink, lacey bra she said, “Common guys don’t be shy.”

While she was dropping her Bermuda’s and stepping out of them the brothers were stripping and finding a space for their clothes. I knew I would be the last to be involved so I stubbornly stood close to Marcia and watched. She didn’t miss what I was doing, merely smiled as she stood upright and undid the clasp of her bra. With a demure smile, she held my gaze as she shimmied the straps off her arms. My eyes were magnetized by her near-perfect, ski-jump-shaped breasts that must have been 36cs. Her nipples and oval-shaped areolas were a rich, almost light chocolaty pink. While still holding my gaze she dipped slightly and peeled off her pink laced panties, let them drop to her knees which she straitened then shook her panties off her ankles. As I ogled her beautiful image I wondered how this delicious, accommodating girl could have grown to enjoy this kind of sleazy sex.

I had mentioned that her face was plain, kinda like you might expect to see on a freshly washed pioneer woman. But while her body was Michael Angelo-spectacular I doubted that the master could have sculpted her so perfectly. As my eyes captured every line of her body Marcia’s eyes sparkled in the dingy room. With a delicate pout, she murmured, “Thank you, Toby.” She understood that I was a male who appreciated a woman beyond what I could do between her legs.

She gave her eyes a flirty roll as the fingers of her left hand traced between her breasts, down her tight abs, toying with her pussy-like innie navel to her pubic thatch which, for most girls at the time, was neatly trimmed. She scratched her bush, fluffed it and as if warning me that I had better go, she swept the back of her hand at me, “shoo.”

The rest of the brothers were fully naked in various stages of tumescence, standing in the shadows at the front part of the attic. Having always been interested in art they reminded me of Rodin’s huge sculpture of the Burghers of Calais. But the Burghers were only six and fully clothed. The shadows in the room made the brothers appear ghostly. The looks on their faces showed that they disapproved of me for doing something any pledge should never have dared. But they were under the influence of Marcia, who, what she said, went.