Chapter 7: Maggie at College

“Holy shit!” exclaimed Maggie. “A gang rape for your birthday! Wow!” she said as she stood to make another round of drinks. By now she and her mother were topless, and Caroline was quite frankly aroused by the sight. Both Maggie and Babs had firm and upstanding 38Ds and their bright red nipples were prominently erect. Caroline had flipped over to tan her back and had untied the strings holding her bikini bottom together, to get an allover tan. Babs had no compunctions against oiling her hostess down, rubbing her hands sensuously over her buttocks. She then stripped off her own panties and oiled herself some more, and Caroline was fascinated by the puffy and naked pudenda the older woman had, shaved as bare as she herself was.

“So, who’s next?” asked Caroline.

Maggie and Babs switched to Rock, Paper, and Stone to pick the next raconteur, and Babs won, so Maggie went next. She started, “Okay, this all happened back when I was in college...”

Maggie Meredith had selected a large state school to earn her teaching degree at. The college was roughly an hour from her home, so that her parents could pick her up on weekends if she wanted, but the commute was too long for practicality, and she had to room in the freshman dorms. This fit her to a T; she loved her parents but wanted to get away from home.

The first few weeks were a mad scramble adjusting to the new experiences, and it wasn’t until mid-October that she began to feel as if she had a handle on things. That Friday, however, she wanted to get out and do something, but nothing much was happening. She had no tests for almost two weeks and her homework was completely caught up. Socially, things were at a slow point as well. She didn’t have a steady boyfriend yet and her roommate had gone home for the weekend. Homecoming had been the previous weekend, and there were no big parties planned anywhere. At a loss for something to do, she grabbed a jacket and headed down to the Student Union to see if she could find a friend to hang out with.

The Student Union building was a large and modern, low-slung affair, with the ground floor devoted to student council offices and a restaurant to take parents to. The basement level contained the bookstore along one wall, a bowling alley, billiard room, and a pinball arcade along the other, and a large beer hall in the center, it still being legal to drink at eighteen at the time. Maggie downed a fast beer, then wandered into the billiard room.

The small room was still large enough to hold four full-sized pool tables, two of which were out of commission as they were being resurfaced. The other pair were in use, with a pair of older boys playing on one, while several students lined up quarters on the other. The quarters were to release the billiard balls captured in the pockets to start a new game. The winner retained control of the table until somebody paid a quarter and beat them, then the new winner owned the table. Fishing a quarter out of her pocket, Maggie strode up to the table with the two guys and set it on the edge.

“Interested in a game, fellows?” she asked.

The two young men looked over at the blonde bombshell and grinned. “Anytime, little lady, anytime,” said the larger of the two. “As soon as I finish off my homosexual acquaintance, I’ll be happy to teach you.”

“Fuck you, cockbreath!” protested his friend. To Maggie he said, “Grab a stick, babe, and after I beat you, I’ll buy you a beer.”

“Thanks,” she said, as she innocently sauntered over to the rack of cues, carefully picking the best of an indifferent collection. She wished she had thought to bring her own cue, a custom two-piece job her father had bought her several years ago. He had installed a table in the family room, and she had spent many hours practicing. She had even taught a variation called ‘Strip Pool’ to her boyfriends, and billiard balls weren’t the only balls that had gotten racked on the smooth green velvet. These clowns were going to teach her? They could only wish!

To the larger man’s surprise, his counterpart sank a tough double bank shot to win their match, and grinned as he took Maggie’s quarter to rack up the next match. Deferring to Maggie, he said, “Eight ball. Ladies first,” and stepped back to let her break. This was the only event Maggie was worried about, having a very uneven break shot, but the only luck she needed occurred at the start, when she sank the seven ball off the break. Calling, “Odds!” she promptly proceeded to run the table, much to everyone’s amazement.

Her competitors were less than generous, finding themselves blown off the table in under five minutes. As the small guy muttered imprecations, the larger one slapped a quarter down angrily. “Think you can try that again, honey?” he asked darkly. “This time, we call our shots.”

“Fine with me. I’ll break.” Maybe lightning would strike twice, she prayed silently, as she put the coin in the mechanism and set the table up again. A small group of people were staring as she lined up on the cue ball.

It didn’t. Blowing her first shot, she was forced to watch as her contender carefully lined up and called his first three shots. He blew a simple bank shot and was forced to give way. She nailed four in a row and the game see-sawed briefly before she could hit the last two and the eight ball. The two guys were in a foul mood as they threw down their cues under the watchful eyes of the manager, and they stormed out of the room.

By now, several fellows had come in to watch, and had placed quarters down on the table, to try their luck at beating the big-titted blonde and maybe buying her a drink. It was all to no avail, as Maggie cleaned clock after clock for over an hour and a half and contemplated staying to go for the record for owning the table. Finally, a pair of upper-class girls dropped a quarter on the table. Maggie confidently smiled and said, “Great, it’s your funeral.”

“Recklessness and impudence! I like that in a victim,” remarked one to the other. Both girls, slim brunettes, were wearing sorority T-shirts with the Greek letters Phi Kappa on them. “I’m Trish and this is Jan.” Jan was shorter, Maggie’s height, with Maggie’s bright blue eyes. Trish was several inches taller, with longer hair and brown eyes. “You must be one of the new freshmen. I just love fresh meat.”

“Maggie Meredith,” she acknowledged. She took the proffered quarter and set up the next game.

Calling her shots, Trish wiped Maggie out in a straight run of nine balls. Staring wide-eyed, Maggie fished out another quarter and butted ahead of the line. The manager inexplicably allowed the rematch and smiled when Jan took Trish’s cue stick. Once again, Maggie was routed, nine straight.

“You’ve just been had, kid,” the manager laughed. “These two are the school champs, and you have just been hustled!” Maggie could only grin and shamefacedly acknowledge her loss.

Trish and Jan simply laughed and racked their cue. “Come on, Maggie Meredith, let’s go get a beer,” said Jan.

It was three beers, a round apiece, and then Trish and Jan invited Maggie home, to the Phi Kappa sorority house for dinner. Although it wasn’t a party night, the evening was busy, with beer flowing and music blaring, and several hunky looking guys wandering around. Maggie’s new friends explained that it was the start of Rush Season, the period when fraternities and sororities began recruiting new members.

The Greek system was strong on campus, accounting for almost a quarter of all students, and despite annual excesses that prompted thunderous denunciations from school officials, the fact of the matter was that there simply weren’t enough dorm rooms or apartments in the small town to put students in if the fraternities and sororities were banned. The Greeks had a few subdivisions; some houses were jock and jockette houses and some were nerd houses and there was even a ROTC house, for officer cadets, but the majority were simply social houses, like Phi Kappa. The ‘Phuks’, as they called themselves, were a female version of ‘Animal House’, and Maggie was to learn that they were a very social house indeed. Most of the boyfriends were from several of the jock frats on campus, and the sisters endeavored to live up to their nickname. Maggie hadn’t really considered joining a sorority, and she looked at a few others, but Phi Kappa had won her over on the first day, and when she was asked to pledge, she eagerly accepted.

Just how hard the Phuks worked on their reputation wasn’t completely clear to Maggie until she became an upperclassman herself. The group had certain standards to be met. While booze was freely abused, drugs were nonexistent. Nobody really cracked a book unless in dire straits. Candidates were all screened for looks. While raving beauty wasn’t required, pigs were out, and the plainest girls would still be considered attractive in any crowd.

Tractable virtue was considered a plus, and none of the freshmen were virgins. A silent scorecard was kept of the amorous conquests of each candidate. Maggie had been on the Pill since she had turned fourteen and had promptly put it to good use. While not considered promiscuous in high school, she had been considered easy, and while she tended to form long-term relationships with her boyfriends, they had almost always gotten into her pants on the first date. Maggie was simply of the opinion that if she liked a guy and was going steady with him, then they were almost certainly going to fuck at some point. She liked sex just as much as they did, so why not make that point an early one! From the Phuks point of view, Maggie clinched her candidacy when, at the Thanksgiving party, a junior from the soccer frat invited her back to his room and scored on her that night. A blow job and a fuck that night, followed by doing the dog in the morning proved her utter lack of character to them. Maggie didn’t care, she and Mike remained an item until the middle of the Spring semester.