Frat Initiation Surprise

Perry pushed open the door to his dorm room, his mind still buzzing from the frat meeting. The brothers had told him only that his initiation would happen tonight, in his room, and that he'd know it when he saw it. They'd grinned at him with that particular brand of asshole confidence that only fraternity seniors could muster, clapping him on the back like they were sending him off to war.

He was not expecting what he found.

A girl was sitting on his bed. Not sitting, exactly—lounging, sprawled out like she owned the place, one leg bent up, the other hanging off the side, her back against his pillow. She had dark hair piled up in a messy bun, hoop earrings, and a tank top that was fighting a losing battle against her chest. She looked up from her phone when he walked in and smiled with way too many teeth.

"You must be Perry."

"I must be," he said, dropping his bag by the door. "And you must be the initiation."

"Sadie," she said, extending a hand that he didn't shake because he was still standing six feet away. "But the brothers call me Leti. I'm the house favorite. They send me to break in the new guys."

"Break them in how, exactly?"

She laughed, a sharp, genuine sound. "However they need breaking. You'd be surprised how many guys show up to this frat thinking they're freaks, and then I walk in and they suddenly remember they have a girlfriend they love very much." She shrugged. "The ones who make it through, though? Those are the ones worth keeping around."

Perry leaned against his desk and crossed his arms. He was six-four, lean and broad-shouldered, and he knew how to fill a doorframe. He'd been a basketball player in high school before he'd discovered that he liked weightlifting more than running suicides. His skin was dark, his jaw was sharp, and right now he was watching Sadie—Leti—with the kind of measured calm that made people wonder what he was thinking.

What he was thinking was that this was the most interesting thing that had happened to him all semester.

"So what's the test?" he asked.

She swung her legs off the bed and stood up. She was shorter than him by a lot, maybe five-six, but she carried herself like she was seven feet tall. She walked toward him slowly, not trying to be seductive—just confident. She stopped about two feet away and looked up at him.

"The brothers tell me you're a freak," she said. "Like, an actual freak. Not the kind who says he's into nasty shit and then gags when he gets a whiff of the real thing."

Perry raised an eyebrow. "What'd they tell you, exactly?"

"That you ate a girl out in the library stacks during finals week and didn't come up for air until the fire alarm went off. That you told your last hookup you wanted her to sit on your face until she couldn't feel her legs. That you once went down on a girl for forty-five minutes straight and she had to tap out." Leti tilted her head. "They also told me you've got a thing for what most guys would call... unpleasant."

"Unpleasant," Perry repeated, a smile starting at the corner of his mouth.

"That's the word they used." She reached up and tugged at one of her hoop earrings, a nervous gesture that didn't match anything else about her. "So here's the deal, Perry. I'm going to tell you exactly what you're working with, and if you're still interested after I tell you, we proceed. If you're not, you fail the initiation, and I walk out that door and tell the brothers you couldn't handle it."

"Go ahead."

Leti took a breath. "My pussy is hairy. Not trimmed, not landing strip, not 'groomed.' Hairy. Full bush. Dark hair that goes from my clit to my asshole and everywhere in between." She watched his face. "It's also fishy. Not a little. A lot. I've got a yeast infection right now that I haven't treated because the brothers specifically requested it. I've been wearing the same underwear for two days, working out, sweating, and I did not shower today. My cunt smells like sweat and cheese and fish and something sour underneath all of that, and if you get close enough, you will smell all of it."

Perry didn't move. His expression didn't change. But something shifted behind his eyes, and Leti caught it.

"Interesting," she murmured.

"Keep going," he said.

"It's not just the smell. It's the taste. I taste like copper and salt and something tangy that's going to coat your tongue and stay there. The yeast infection means there's discharge—thick, white, clumpy shit that's going to get all over your face. The hair is going to be in your teeth, your mouth, stuck to your lips. When I get wet, it mixes with everything else and gets even more intense." She paused. "I'm telling you this because the brothers want to know if you're actually as nasty as you say you are, or if you're just another guy who likes the idea of filth but can't handle the reality."

Perry unfolded his arms. His hands hung at his sides, and there was a noticeable shift in the front of his jeans—something thick and heavy starting to press against the denim. Leti's eyes dropped to it and then came back up to his face.

"Still interested?" she asked.

"The more you talk, the harder I get," Perry said plainly. "If that's what you're testing, you've got your answer."

Leti stared at him for a long moment, then laughed again—this time with something that sounded almost like delight. "Oh, you're a real one. Okay." She turned and walked back to the bed. "Sit down in the desk chair. Watch."

Perry sat.

She stood at the foot of his bed and started with the tank top, pulling it over her head in one smooth motion. Underneath was a red bra, bright against her brown skin, pushing her tits up in a way that was more functional than decorative. She reached behind her back, unclasped it, and let it fall. Her breasts were full, heavy, with dark nipples that she didn't bother covering.

Then she hooked her thumbs into the waistband of her pink booty shorts and shimmied them down. Underneath was a green g-string, and even from five feet away, Perry could see the dark hair curling out around the edges of the thin fabric. The gusset of the thong was visibly damp, a darker green patch right against her crotch, and when she bent over to step out of the shorts, the string pulled tight between her cheeks and the smell hit him.

It was immediate. Pungent. A wave of something ripe and raw—sweat and musk and that sour tang she'd described, carried on the warm air of the small dorm room. It wasn't subtle. It wasn't a hint. It was a full sensory announcement that there was an unwashed, hairy, infected pussy five feet from his face.

Perry's cock jerked hard against his jeans. He shifted in the chair and felt the wet spot that had already formed at the tip, soaking through to the leopard-print thong he was wearing underneath. He'd bought it as a joke months ago and then discovered he liked the way it held his dick, and now it was the only thing between his erection and a very obvious situation.

Leti sat down on the bed and scooted back until her shoulders were against the wall. She bent her knees and let them fall open, feet flat on the mattress, and the g-string pulled tight across her cunt. The hair was everywhere—dark, coarse, curling out from every edge of the thin green strip of fabric. The gusset was soaked through, and there was a whitish residue visible at the edges where the discharge had seeped past the fabric.

"Come here," she said.

Perry stood up. The bulge in his jeans was impossible to miss now—thick and long, running down his left thigh, the denim straining around it. Leti looked at it and raised an eyebrow.

"Is that a leopard-print thong?"

"Maybe."

"God, you really are a freak." She smiled. "Take off the jeans. Let me see."

He undid the button and zipper and pushed the jeans down. His cock was fully hard now, tenting the leopard-print fabric obscenely, the head pushing out the top because the thong couldn't contain it. Precum was leaking from the tip, a clear strand hanging from the slit, and the fabric was dark with wetness where he'd been leaking into it.

"Jesus Christ," Leti said, but she was smiling. "That thing is going to be a problem later. Right now, though—" She hooked a finger into the g-string and pulled it to the side, exposing herself fully.

Perry stopped breathing for a second.

Her pussy was exactly as described. The hair was thick and dark, matted in places where the discharge had glued it together, the lips swollen and pink underneath the fur. There was a thick, white, clumpy substance coating the inner folds and collecting at the entrance to her vagina. The smell intensified tenfold—fish and sweat and that cheesy, sour yeast smell mixing together into something that should have been repellent but was making his cock throb so hard it was pulsing against the thong.

"Go forth and lick stanky-ass pussy," Leti said, grinning at him with those too-many teeth. "That's your initiation, Perry. If you can do this—actually do it, not just pretend—then you're in."

Perry knelt on the floor in front of the bed. His face was level with her open legs, and the smell was everywhere now, filling his nose, coating the back of his throat. He could see the individual hairs curling around her swollen clit, the white discharge thick between her lips, the sweat glistening in the crease where her thigh met her groin.

He leaned in.

The first taste was overwhelming. He ran his tongue flat from the bottom of her slit to the top, and the flavor exploded across his mouth—salty, tangy, coppery, sour, with a thickness to it that coated his tongue like a film. The discharge hit his tastebuds and it was exactly what she'd said: yeasty, clumpy, almost bread-like in its texture, mixed with the salt of her sweat and the unmistakable fishiness of her unwashed cunt.

He didn't pull back. He pressed his mouth against her fully, his lips sealing around her hairy opening, and he pushed his tongue inside.

Leti made a sound above him—surprised, then hungry. "Oh, fuck. You're actually—oh shit, you're actually doing it."

Perry's tongue worked inside her, scooping out the thick discharge, swallowing it, going back for more. The hair was everywhere—against his cheeks, his chin, stuck to his lips, caught between his teeth. His face was getting coated in the mixture of her wetness and the infection and his own saliva, and he could feel his cock leaking steadily into the thong, a constant drip of precum that was pooling in the fabric.

He pulled back just enough to find her clit, buried in the matted hair, swollen and hard. He wrapped his lips around it and sucked, and Leti's hips bucked off the bed.

"Fuck—fuck, just like that, don't stop—"

He sucked harder, his tongue flicking against the sensitive nub, and the taste of her intensified as she got wetter. The clean slick of her arousal mixed with the sourness of the infection and the saltiness of her sweat, creating something that was objectively disgusting and that was making Perry so hard he thought he might come in his thong without touching himself.

He slid two fingers inside her while he worked her clit, and the sound was obscene—wet, squelching, the discharge and her arousal combining into a thick fluid that ran down his fingers and wrist. He could feel the heat of her, the swollen walls of her vagina gripping his fingers, and he curled them upward to find the rough patch inside her that made her gasp.

"Oh god—oh fuck, you're good at this—" Leti's hands were in his hair now, gripping tight, pulling his face harder against her. He could barely breathe, his nose pressed into the wet fur, his mouth sealed over her clit, and he loved it. He loved the filth of it, the raw animal smell and taste of her, the way she was using his face like a toy.

His tongue traced circles around her clit, then he sucked it back into his mouth and flicked it rapidly, side to side, while his fingers pumped in and out of her sloppy cunt. The discharge was everywhere now—on his chin, his cheeks, in his stubble, mixed with her slick and his spit. He could feel it cooling on his skin where the air hit it, and the contrast between the hot wetness at the source and the cooling mess on his face was making him dizzy with arousal.

"Put another finger in," Leti gasped. "I want to feel stretched."

He added a third finger, and her cunt swallowed them, the walls pulsing around his hand. He could feel the hair inside her, soft and wet against his knuckles, and the increased pressure made her moan loud enough that he was glad his roommate was out.

His roommate. Finn.

The thought came unbidden, and with it came a flash of memory—Finn's long brown hair spilling across the pillow, his pale skin flushed, his eyes half-closed as Perry stripped in front of him after a night of drinking. The way Finn had watched him, hungry and open, the way that look had made Perry feel like he was the only person in the world. They'd shared something that night, something unfinished, and Perry hadn't let himself think about it since.

The memory hit him like a jolt of electricity, and his cock throbbed so hard in the thong that he groaned against Leti's pussy, the vibration making her jerk.

"Did you just fucking moan into my cunt?" she said, half-laughing. "You're unreal."

Perry didn't answer. He doubled down, his tongue working her clit with renewed intensity, his fingers fucking into her with a rhythm that was getting faster, harder. He could feel her tightening around him, her thighs starting to shake, and he knew she was close.

"I'm gonna—fuck, I'm gonna come on your face—" Her hips were grinding against his mouth now, her fingers tight in his hair, and he could feel the orgasm building in the way her walls were clenching and releasing around his fingers. "Don't stop, don't you fucking stop—"

He didn't. He sucked her clit hard into his mouth, pressed his teeth gently against the hood, and flicked his tongue in a rapid figure-eight that he'd perfected over years of loving this exact act.

Leti came with a sound that was half-scream, half-laugh, her cunt clamping down on his fingers so hard he couldn't move them, a rush of fluid flooding his mouth and chin. It was thicker than normal arousal, mixed with the discharge, and it poured over his lips and down his neck. He kept his mouth on her through the whole thing, licking and sucking as she rode it out, her thighs squeezing his head so hard his ears rang.

When she finally released him, he pulled back. His face was a mess—coated in her fluids, the white discharge visible in his stubble, her hair stuck to every part of his lower face. He was breathing hard, his cock straining against the soaked leopard-print thong, and he was pretty sure he'd leaked enough precum to have completely ruined it.

Leti looked down at him from the bed, her legs still spread, her cunt still dripping, and she started laughing. Not mocking—genuine, full-bodied laughter.

"You actually did it," she said. "You actually ate my nasty, hairy, yeast-infected pussy like it was a fucking ice cream cone, and you loved every second of it."

Perry wiped his face with the back of his hand and licked it clean. "I did."

"You're in, by the way. The brothers are going to lose their minds when I tell them." She sat up, still grinning. "But first—"

She looked at his cock, still straining against the thong, the head purple and leaking.

"You need me to take care of that?"

Before Perry could answer, the door swung open.

Finn stood in the doorway, his long brown hair falling around his face, a six-pack of cheap beer in one hand. His eyes went wide. He took in the scene—Leti naked on the bed, Perry kneeling on the floor with his face shining wet and his cock tenting a leopard-print thong—and his mouth fell open.

"What the fuck," Finn said.

"Finn—" Perry started.

"No, no, this is fine," Finn said, setting the beer down with exaggerated care. "I just came back to grab some drinks before the party, and my roommate is on his knees with his face looking like he just went bobbing for apples in a swamp. Totally normal Tuesday."

Leti was laughing so hard she was wheezing. "Oh my god, you must be the roommate. The brothers didn't tell me about a roommate."

"Clearly," Finn said, his eyes still on Perry. Then they dropped to the thong, and something shifted in his expression—the same hungry look Perry remembered from that night, the one that made his stomach tighten.

"You're wearing the thong," Finn said quietly.

"Yeah."

"Is that—" Finn's eyes moved to Leti, then back to Perry. "Was this the initiation?"

Perry stood up, his cock still hard, still visible, still leaking. He didn't try to hide it. He never hid from Finn. "Yeah. Eating her out. She's the frat's tester."

Finn looked at Perry's wet face, at the discharge still clinging to his stubble, at his cock straining against the soaked fabric. His tongue touched his lower lip.

"Did you—" Finn's voice was lower now. "Did you like it?"

"Yeah."

"The nasty stuff? All of it?"

"All of it."

Finn was quiet for a moment. Then he said, "Can I watch next time?"

Leti, who had been following this exchange with growing amusement, propped herself up on one elbow. "There's no next time, sweetheart. This was a one-shot deal."

"Shame," Finn said, and his eyes were still on Perry.

Perry felt that look in his chest, in his stomach, in his cock. The unfinished thing between them was suddenly very present, very real, very close to being addressed.

Leti slid off the bed and started gathering her clothes. "I'm going to go tell the brothers you passed with flying colors. You—" she pointed at Perry, "—are officially in. And you—" she pointed at Finn, "—should probably close the door if you're going to keep looking at him like that."

She dressed quickly, gave Perry a kiss on the cheek that left a smear of her own fluids on his face, and walked out, patting Finn on the shoulder as she passed.

The door closed.

Finn and Perry stood in the small dorm room, the smell of Leti still heavy in the air, Perry's face still wet, his cock still hard.

Finn picked up two beers, opened them, and handed one to Perry.

"So," Finn said.

"So," Perry said.

Finn took a sip. His eyes dropped to Perry's thong one more time, then back up to his face. "You've got something on your chin."

"I've got something on my whole face."

Finn laughed, and it was the sound Perry remembered from that night—the sound that had started everything. "Maybe I should help you clean up."

"Maybe you should."

Finn set his beer down and walked toward him, and Perry thought that initiations, it turned out, came in all shapes and sizes. Some of them even came with a second round you didn't see coming.

He reached for Finn's belt, and the door locked with a click that sounded like a promise.