The Competitive Edge: Playing The Game III
Chapter 5: The Conversation on a Swing

Copyright© 2008 by Rev. Cotton Mather

Erotica Sex Story: Chapter 5: The Conversation on a Swing - Welcome to the final volume of the "Playing the Game" trilogy. Sean Porter, soccer kid, is heading off to college. How will he fare playing the world's most popular sport, while trying to maintain a long-distance relationship with Kayla, his girlfriend who is still a Junior in high school?

Caution: This Erotica Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Ma/ft   Teenagers   Romantic   School  

Greek Rush started the next Monday evening. I had promised Bryan I would go to the open house at the Phi Kappa Phi house, so after a long day in class, and a long day on the practice field, I put on some actual dress-up clothes.

I was standing in front of the tiny mirror in my dorm room, trying to remember how to tie a Windsor knot, when Westy came in from taking a shower.

"How come you're all duded up?" he asked as he toweled off his hair.

"Rush," I answered. "I'm going over to the Phi Kap house to meet a friend."

"Hey, no kidding. Wait up for me, would you?" He dropped his towel onto the arm of the couch. "I'm going to rush, too. I'll walk over there with you."

I glanced at him through the mirror. "Are you rushing, too?"

"Yeah," he replied as he began digging through one of his dresser drawers. "I thought it would be a hoot. Meet some guys to party with, maybe find some chicks who want to ball a frat guy."

"Oh, great," I muttered. "Just what you need is more opportunity to trash your couch."

"That's the spirit, Porter," he said exuberantly. He began rummaging through his closet. "So, I take it this is kind of a formal party? I mean, I shouldn't wear cut-offs or anything, right?"

"I would assume so," I replied. I finally got the knot of my tie, and I propped myself against my desk to wait for him.

"Do me a favor," he said as he bent down to put on his socks. "Go across the hall and knock on Jason's door, would you? Him and me were going to go together. Make sure he's ready, okay?"

I levered myself up and opened our door. I walked over to the room diagonal from ours, where Jason Emerson and Craig Nevers lived. Jason and Craig were part of the general freshman population of non- athletes who were scattered around our dorm. Jason, from New Jersey, was majoring in business, and Craig, a native Floridian, was in pre- med. I rarely saw Craig without his head buried in a textbook, and already, hardly started into his college career, he looked harried and fretful. I was glad I wasn't in such a tough area of study. With my schedule, I was having a hard enough time keeping up as it was.

I knocked on their door, and Jason opened it up. He was dressed in torn and ratty jeans and a Black Sabbath t-shirt.

"Dude, tell me you aren't going to go to Greek Rush dressed like that," I said.

"Why? What's wrong?" He looked genuinely perplexed.

"You look like a fugitive from a bad 70's flashback," I said. I pushed him back into his room. As I expected, Craig was at his desk studying. He looked up distractedly as I guided Jason over to his closet.

"Look, the whole purpose for these parties is so you can make a good impression on the members of the fraternity," I said. I started going through his clothes hanging in his closet, looking for something appropriate for him. "Wear the ugly shirt after you get in, not when you're trying to get in."

I pulled out a button-down oxford shirt and a pair of pressed slacks I found in the back of his closet and tossed them to him.

"Change," I commanded.

He complied, but he obviously wasn't happy about it.

"Sean, these just aren't comfortable, man," he complained. "Are you sure I gotta wear this shit?"

"Yes, he's sure," answered Craig for me. He didn't look like he was very happy with the interruption.

"I've got even worse news for you, dude," I said. I tossed a pair of wing tips onto the floor beside him. "You've got to wear these, too."

"Oh, man," he whined. He tossed his old clothes up onto his bed and reluctantly put on the shirt and the slacks I had found for him. He opened one of his dresser drawers and pulled out a pair of dark socks.

Once he was dressed, we headed out to the hall.

"You sure you don't want to come with us, Craig?" I asked one last time.

"I'm sure," he answered distractedly. He waved in our direction without taking his eyes off the page he was studying.

Westy was just coming out of our room. He cleaned up pretty good, I thought to myself as we walked toward the stairway. Now if only I could get him to clean up the rest of his act.

It wasn't a long walk from our dorm over to Greek Row, where many of the fraternity houses were located. Both Westy and Jason were scheduled to go to Lambda Mu first. Westy was visiting the Phi Kaps second, and Jason was going to be there during the third session. They walked up to the Lambda house together, and I continued on to the Phi Kap house, further down the block.

I got there just as the first party was getting going. They had some of their Little Sisters greeting everybody at the door. They had been supplied with the names of the freshmen who were scheduled to be at each of the parties beforehand, and they checked them off and directed them to various rooms to talk to the fraternity members. I walked up to the table set up on the porch, where two very attractive girls were stationed.

"Hi, I'm Sean Porter," I said. A brunette with long hair and piercing blue eyes smiled at me. She raised one shapely eyebrow enticingly.

"Hello, Sean Porter," she said with a slight southern drawl. I could really get to like living here, I thought.

The other girl was a sleek redhead. She had starbursts of freckles on her high cheeks that were muted but not extinguished by her makeup. She checked her manifest, and looked up at me quizzically.

"I'm sorry. Did you say Sean Porter? I don't have you on my list," she said. She actually looked and sounded sorry. Man, these girls are good, I thought.

Another girl, a tiny little thing with short black hair, turned from the doorway when she heard the redhead's comment.

"Did you say your name was Sean Porter?" she asked.

"Yes," I replied, nearly dazzled by the hundred-kilowatt smile that lit up her face.

"Bryan's been expecting you," she said. She leaned over to the girls at the table. "Special case," she said to them. "I'll take him in."

The two girls at the table turned to the guy standing behind me and turned on the charm for him. I was quickly forgotten as they continued with their duties. I mentally shrugged. Easy come, easy go.

"Hi, I'm Alexandra Wallace," she said, holding out her hand for me to shake. "My friends call me Alex, though."

"It's nice to meet you, Alex," I said. I tried not to fumble with her hand too much, but she really was very small, and my hand seemed to envelop hers. I hoped I didn't squeeze it too hard.

"Bryan's been expecting you," she said, turning toward the open front door. There was electronic music coming out of the big speakers in the front room, Kraftwerk or some offshoot. I thought it was kind of an odd choice of music for a big function like this, but it soon slipped into the background as the crowded rooms broke down into smaller groups of conversation.

Alex threaded her way through, and I was happy to follow her. We made our way through the front parlor, a large television room, and into the dining room. Bryan was standing by the table, talking to a couple of other guys, when he saw Alex bringing me in.

"Porter! Over here!"

I thanked Alex and walked over to Bryan.

"Sean, I'd like you to meet the president of our fraternity, John Huff."

John was tall and stood nearly at attention. He had a strong chin, a steely gaze, and a firm handshake. He looked like he should be president of a bank or something.

"I've heard a lot about you, Sean. Good to meet you." His voice matched the face, deep and resonant.

"Thank you," I said. I was unsure just what he could have heard about me, but I was willing to go with the flow for Bryan's sake.

"What do you know about Phi Kappa Phi fraternity?" asked John.

"Well, uh..."

Before I could embarrass myself, Bryan jumped in. "Sean's just doing some preliminary skirmishing, Captain. Will you excuse us? I see Melanie over there, and I think she's looking for us."

He hustled me away. John looked indulgently pleased as Bryan steered me out of the room.

"Captain?" I asked as we stepped back into the television room.

Bryan had a sour look as we took up a spot against the wall. "Jack's an idiot, but he's a good face man."

"Now I'm completely lost," I said. "Jack? And what's a face man?"

Bryan chuckled. "He hates to be called Jack. He insists we call him Captain Huff. He's in ROTC, and thinks he's going to be an Army general someday. Truth is, he's captain of the ROTC drum and bugle corps. The only fighting he's likely to see are the battles at the front lines during the VFW Happy Hour."

"Okay, that explains the Captain part. Why does he hate to be called Jack?" I asked.

Bryan looked at me kind of funny. "Would you want to be called Jack if your last name was Huff?"

Suddenly I got it. No, I thought, I guess I wouldn't.

Bryan was watching me, smiling the whole time. He could see when I finally got the joke. We both laughed.

"Gotcha," I said. "So, what's a face man?"

"Jack gives a great first impression, doesn't he?" Bryan asked. I nodded. "But there's not much beyond that rugged face or that puffed- out chest. He looks great, acts like he knows what he's doing, but in reality he's a dipshit. He could fuck up a one-car funeral. So we make sure there are a few good people standing behind him, doing the real work, while Jack acts as our public face. Keeps the University regents happy, seeing such an upstanding citizen as our president, and they stay out of our back yard that way."

"He's really that bad?" I asked.

"To know him is to despise him," said Bryan. "Come on, let me take you around and introduce you to some of the Phi Kaps who really know what's going on."

He led me around the room and introduced me to a dizzying number of his fraternity brothers. After the first couple, I couldn't keep names straight any longer. It was a good thing everybody was wearing nametags.

One name I didn't forget was Alex's. She appeared next to me too often to be coincidence, usually carrying a tray of snacks or soft drinks. She made sure she offered me whatever she happened to be serving, smiling and chatting with ease.

"Who does Alex belong to?" I asked Bryan at one point. "I'm assuming she's the girlfriend of one of your fraternity brothers."

 
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