I had just started my junior year in college when it first happened. The first time a black cock slithered its way into me, a serpent ready to spew its venom.

Fall Saturdays in Ann Arbor were always rather charged, a product of being a football school. I was never a big fan of the game, but those four years I spent on the University of Michigan campus leave me nostalgic for those days. The sidewalks and paths through campus were always alive. The bars busted at the seams. And the fraternity parties and tailgates started as early as many have breakfast.

The day it first happened was early in the school year and the weather was still warm. I don’t remember who Michigan played that day, but I do recall that it was a late-afternoon game. My sorority was paired up with a particular fraternity for football games that fall and the party at the fraternity house started early, but I skipped it. I was a bit hungover from the night before, so when I awoke, I had a light breakfast, went to the recreational center to work out, and then crawled into my bed and watched a stupid movie.

I finally got up around 2:00 to get ready for the game and a night out. Though alcohol was not permitted in the house, there was always a little to be found if you knew where to look, and I did; I kept a bottle of vodka in a small safe I kept in my closet. A little ice, a little tonic and ... voila. After showering, I had a drink and did a bump or two of cocaine from the bullet that I also kept in the safe. I slipped into a pale-yellow sundress that provided a lovely contrast to my summer tan. I put a pair of diamond earrings in my lobes and a platinum lovelier around my slender neck, my boyfriend’s fraternity letters dangling from it.

Jack and I had started dating that spring and the relationship continued over the summer. He spent a few weekends at our lake house in northern Michigan. My father was proud. Jack was the “right” type of boy for me, though my father, keeping paternalistic guard over my supposed virtue, still required that Jack sleep in one of the guest rooms on the main floor.

I fingered the lovelier and stepped into a pair of espadrille wedges, and then joined a few of the girls in the sorority’s lobby. We made our way toward the stadium, spent some time at a tailgate, and went into the game. We didn’t stay long. The bars were calling, and we were in one by halftime. A few drinks, another bump, and we departed for a party that Jack’s fraternity was hosting that night.

My sorority sisters and I parted after we each got a drink from the barroom that was just off the lobby. They went down into the basement where there was a dance floor, a DJ and a hundred or so writhing bodies, while I went out back where a cover band was playing Pearl Jam, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Nirvana in the parking lot. I knew that’s where Jack would be, and I was right. I found him with a group of his fraternity brothers and their girlfriends, most of whom I knew from dances and just from around campus. I pushed my soft pink tongue into his mouth and then we chatted with the group while listening to the band.

After a while I pulled Jack close and, on my tiptoes, whispered into his ear. “I’m gonna go find Molly and Jacqueline ... I think they’re inside dancing.” I slipped my tongue into his mouth again, feeling him shiver. That boy was so easy to control. “If I disappear, I’ll come back later, if it’s not too late.” A gentle bite of his lower lip and a sly smile hinting that I’d let him have me later placated him.

I slipped into the house and weaved my way through the crowds to the bar to get another drink, then went down into the basement and found my sorority sisters. They were on the dance floor amongst the thrashing bodies of alcohol-fueled college kids, and I joined them. I won’t try to describe how we danced, nor would anyone want me to. I was a white girl from a conservative community and, while I’d like to think I’m graceful, dancing is definitely not in my skill set.

After a while, Molly moved away and I lost track of Jackie amongst all the dancing and the strobe lights. I danced a bit longer and then left the dance floor myself. I found the ladies’ room again, did another bump, got another drink, and then searched for my sorority sisters. I found them in another crowded barroom that was in the basement, part of a group of about a dozen boys and girls chatting, joking and flirting, and joined in.

Over the next hour or so, that little group dwindled. Two of the guys left for another party. A boy and a girl drifted away. Molly and Jackie left to meet Molly’s boyfriend at another party. By around 10:00, I was left talking with two of the guys, Anthony and Marcus.

Both of them were gorgeous. They towered over my barely five-foot frame, though Marcus was much leaner than Anthony. As we chatted after refreshing our drinks, I learned that both were on Michigan’s track team, Marcus a hurdler and Anthony a shot-putter. And both were black, though Anthony’s skin tone was a few shades darker than Marcus’s.

I’d never really considered black guys as sexual partners. I’d always dated white boys. Even as I expanded my sexual horizons once arriving in Ann Arbor – in an almost reckless manner – my partners had always been white. It wasn’t anything overt, though there was probably some latent, passive racism in there, given my upbringing. But whatever it was, I had never thought about fucking a black guy.

Until that night. Because, like I said, those two were gorgeous. And I had vodka and coke coursing through my bloodstream. And the only cock that had been inside me since returning to campus from summer break was Jack’s. To say that Jack was an inadequate lover would be an understatement. I think he liked partying more than he liked sex, which led to subpar performance. Moreover, he was raised to respect women. That meant putting us on pedestals and treating us like queens. That’s nice, but sometimes a girl just wants her hair pulled and her butt spanked.

Anyway, these two were gorgeous, and they were getting flirty with me. At first, they were just friendly. But the longer I kept their company, the more flirtatious they became. A little touch on my arm. Subtle sexual innuendo. Then a hand on my hip. When I didn’t balk, the innuendo became less subtle.

My heart was racing. My nipples crinkled in my bra. I wanted another drink. Another bump. But I was afraid that if I walked away, even if I promised to come right back, they’d disappear. And I didn’t want that. I wanted one of them to take me back to his apartment. To lift me with his strong arms and toss me on his bed and fuck me until I was reduced to a babbling mess.

“We’re gonna get out of here. Got another party to go to.”

I don’t know which one of them said it, but it broke me from my internal thoughts. A pang of panic rose inside of me, though I think I masked it pretty well.

“Of course, yeah.” I looked around. “Looks like this party is winding down anyway.” It wasn’t, but that didn’t matter. I had to say SOMETHING.

“You wanna come along?”

I didn’t respond immediately. I looked around me, watching for my boyfriend, who was thankfully nowhere to be found. And no one kept their eyes on me, which was a relief. I’d always been discreet when betraying my boyfriends. I wanted what I wanted, and wasn’t shy about getting it, but I never wanted to hurt the Jacks in my life.

I licked my lips anxiously and turned back to the black boys. “Uh ... sure. That’d be great.” Another look around. “Why don’t you give me the address and, um, I’ll meet you there.”

A soft smirk formed on Anthony’s mouth. I knew what he was thinking.

“It’s just ... my boyfriend ... this is his fraternity,” I nearly stuttered. These two had rattled my usual confident demeanor.

Marcus nodded. “I get it. Don’t worry. Tell you what. We’ll leave and you follow us a few minutes later. Just go right and we’ll be just down the block.”

I smiled softly, grateful that he didn’t make the situation too uncomfortable. “Okay ... I’ll see you in a few.”

As they departed, I returned to the ladies’ room. Another bump. As I stood before the mirror and dabbed a wet tissue around my nose, I pondered some of the choices I’ve made when on coke, which have not always been wise ones. Some of the most depraved things I’ve done have occurred when I was in that altered stated. Was tonight going to represent another of those poor choices? Probably, though I suppose it depends on one’s perspective.

Five minutes later, I was walking down the sidewalk bracketed by two black boys who dwarfed me. When we turned the corner, I slipped my lithe, bare arms into theirs. My heart was still racing. My nipples were still swollen. And a damp heat had blossomed between my thighs.