by Lolita Lopez
The Big V
Lolita Lopez
A night of wild partying with football god Chris at his frat’s Halloween bash sounds like the perfect cure for Ashley’s midterm blues. But her carefree night quickly takes an FML turn. Chris and his hunky frat buddies intend to use her as their virgin sacrifice!
She nearly faints as Chris describes the deliciously dirty ritual orgy they have planned, a ritual centered on giving Ashley multiple orgasms. Sensual massage. Spanking. Twelve sets of big, strong hands on her innocent body. A dozen soft mouths driving her wild. Could there be a more memorable way to lose the Big V than with these sinfully sexy frat boys?
Chris promises Ashley a night she’ll never forget—and she plans to hold him to it.
Ellora’s Cave Publishing
www.ellorascave.com
The Big V
ISBN 9781419935350
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
The Big V Copyright © 2011 Lolita Lopez
Edited by Kelli Collins
Cover art by Syneca
Electronic book publication July 2011
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The Big V
Lolita Lopez
Chapter One
Fuck. My. Life.
I hugged my knees a bit tighter and tried to slow my breathing. Inside the cramped space of the bathroom’s supply closet, every breath seemed to echo. My pulse pounded against my eardrums. I willed my racing heart to slow because I couldn’t hear anything but the thud, thud, thud of blood rushing through my veins.
Wait. Was that a footstep?
I curled my body even tighter and prayed no one would notice me behind the hastily restacked mega packs of toilet paper. The biting scent of cleaning supplies clashed with the floral hint of fabric softener and made my head spin.
I tried to concentrate but it was so hard with the adrenaline flooding my system. Apparently thousands of years ago, when my caveman ancestor was faced with a snarling beastie, he turned tail and ran like a coward. All these centuries later, those weenie genes had filtered right down to me. Fight or flight?
Flight all the way, baby.
How long had I been in here? Five minutes? An even better question—how the hell was I going to get out of here?
Come to our Halloween party, he’d said. You’ll have a great time.
Great time, my ass.
A night I’d never forget. That’s what I was promised. On that count, Chris had absolutely delivered. I would never, not for the rest of my life, forget the moment I realized I’d been invited to a frat Halloween party to play the part of the virgin sacrifice.
Virgin.
Fucking.
Sacrifice.
Needless to say, those weren’t the words I’d expected to hear when I hovered in the doorway of the frat house’s industrial-sized kitchen.
I’d caught a lap full of beer when a drunken Red Riding Hood got clotheslined by the wildly swinging arm of a Tarzan (who was showing a Greek goddess just how long the python coiled behind his loincloth really was). All I’d wanted was a couple of paper towels to mop up the mess. Instead, I’d overhead Chris and his frat brothers discussing just how they planned to coax me down into their secret lair for a night of wild sex and virgin sacrificing.
This Little Bo Peep had given the closest frat boy one good whack with her staff before running for her life. I mean, seriously, what the hell was the world coming to when a girl couldn’t even enjoy a Halloween bash without worrying about a crazed bunch of horn dogs ready to offer her up to the frat gods?
The chapter house was a maze of hallways and rooms. They’d blocked off the only exits I knew about so I’d played it by ear, tearing down this hall and that and flinging open doors in search of refuge. That goddamn throbbing bass of Lady Gaga’s latest single had covered up my screams of terror. No one partying outside around the pool could hear me. I was one hundred percent on my own. Even my cell phone was safely tucked away in Ginger’s purse. Would she even notice I was missing until it was too late?
Oh god. Those were definitely footsteps. I held my breath and shrunk down as small as possible. When the door to the supply closet whipped open, I flinched and clamped my eyes shut. Oh god. Oh god. Oh god!
“Ashley?” Chris peered over the wall of toilet paper. “Are you okay?”
I shrieked like a banshee and jumped to my feet. Elbows swinging, I slapped and screamed at Chris. It was futile. There was no moving his massive football player’s physique. He outweighed me by about a hundred pounds and stood a full foot over me. I was, in a word, fucked.
“Am I okay? Am I okay?” My crazed screech ricocheted off the walls of the tiled bathroom. I beat his bulky arm with both fists. “Are you fucking kidding me? You and your frat goons are trying to rape and kill me!”
Chris pulled back in shock. “What? No!” He shook his head. “Ashley, we’re not trying to rape or kill you.”
I rolled my eyes. “I heard you, Chris. Virgin sacrifice usually means rape and murder.”
“It’s not like that.” He seemed hurt. “Do you really think I would hurt you? Do I look like a rapist? A murderer?”
I crossed my arms and shrugged. “Most rapists and murderers don’t wear big flashing signs.”
“Fair enough.” He caught my gaze. “Ashley, we’ve been friends and study buddies for more than a year. You’ve helped me so much with my dyslexia. You were the only person I’ve ever trusted enough to let my guard down with when it came to my learning disability. Do you really think I’d repay that kindness with violence?”
Chris’ pained voice cut right through my fear. He was right. He’d struggled for three years at college, barely scraping by with the football team tutors and the good old boy network that passed him from class to class. When we’d met that first day of fall classes, I’d immediately recognized the way he struggled. I’d helped my younger brother with his dyslexia for years. Reaching out to Chris felt natural.
Still, I’d heard what I’d heard. I squared my shoulders. “How is sacrificing me not violent?”
Chris blew out a loud breath. “It’s just the name of the ritual. It’s stupid, okay? It’s a really dumb name, and after this nightmare, I’m lobbying to have it changed to something else.”
“What kind of ritual?”
He held out his hand. “Let’s get you out of this closet first.” I hesitated and he sho
t me a pleading look. “Please, Ashley. I promise. Cross my heart,” he added, drawing the symbol over his chest.
“Okay,” I relented with a grumble, and placed my noticeably smaller hand in his large mitt. Whenever I was with Chris, I always felt so tiny. At six feet and five inches, he dwarfed my petite frame. Of course, for a man destined for professional football, his gigantic size was put to good use.
We sat down on the edge of the bathtub. I made sure there was a good foot of space between us. Not that it would help much if he tried to grab me and haul me out of the bathroom. I could put up a hell of a fight but he’d still win. I could only hope he was as decent and honorable as I thought.
I caught our reflection in the long rectangular mirror mounted on the wall above the sink. God, we looked ridiculous. My Little Bo Peep outfit was a wrinkled mess. The rosy red circles of blush had smeared across my cheeks. Mascara dripped down my face. In that Viking getup, with his face all ruddy from chasing after me, Chris looked like a Norse warrior ready to pillage. He’d lost the horned helmet and battle axe somewhere along the way, just as I had my staff.
Our eyes met in the reflection of the mirror. Chris quirked one of those killer smiles that made my insides wiggle like a bowl of JELL-O. He got up and headed over to the under-sink cabinet. He grabbed a washcloth, wet and wrung it out, and brought it back to me.
“Here,” Chris said, handing it over.
“Thanks.” I carefully dabbed at the damage. I’d need soap and water to really tackle the sticky makeup mess. “So tell me about this ritual thingy.”
Chris smiled. “Always straight to the point.”
“I don’t like bullshit. You know that.”
He nodded. “Here’s the deal. On Halloween, the senior frat brothers gather down in the ceremonial room for a good luck ritual. We invite a virgin who isn’t part of Greek life to join us.”
I seized my chance. “Well, you’re wasting your time. I’m not a virgin.” It was a bald-faced lie and I did my best not to let my poker face slip.
Chris frowned. “Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not!” I crossed my arms. “How would you even know?”
“Because you told me.”
The penny dropped. I hauled off and punched him hard in his ridiculously muscled biceps. “You bastard!”
“Ow!” Chris rubbed his arm. “No need to get violent.”
“No need to get violent? Are you fucking kidding me? You’ve got me cornered in this bathroom like a rabbit and now you’re telling me you got me drunk to get the truth out of me.”
“It wasn’t like that,” he insisted, his puppy dog eyes turned on full force.
“Spare me.” I rolled my eyes and then launched into my best Chris impersonation. “Hey, Ashley, you should come to the lake with us. Oh hey, you’ll love this game.” I huffed. “That’s the last time I play Never Have I Ever with you!”
This is exactly where one too many Long Island iced teas and the friendly shoulder of my best guy friend had gotten me. Sitting on a bathtub, listening to said guy friend tell me all about his plans to use my virginity for some higher purpose.
“Well, I had to confirm my suspicions.”
“So, what, last weekend was recon? That makes me feel even better. Now I’ve had my suspicions confirmed. You didn’t want me there at all.”
“That isn’t true. You’re my friend. I enjoy spending time with you.” He sighed and pleaded earnestly, “Please don’t be angry with me, Ashley.”
“Fat chance.” Yet even as I spoke, my anger was fading. God, he really knew how to work those baby blues. I exhaled roughly and narrowed my eyes. “So this good luck ritual… It’s not, like, satanic or anything, right?”
“Um, we’re in the Bible Belt, Ashley.”
“That doesn’t mean shit. Actually, it would be a great cover. Hey, look at us, we’re just a bunch of conservative frat boys who love Jesus. Except, you know, when we’re worshipping the Devil!”
Chris laughed. “Okay, okay. You’ve got me there.” He shook his head. “But no, seriously, we’re not satanic. This has nothing to do with religion.”
“So what is this ritual then?”
“It’s an orgy. Basically.”
“An orgy,” I repeated slowly. “Are you out of your fucking mind? What the hell do I know about orgies? I’m a virgin, Chris. The last thing I want is for my first time to be some kind of crazy frat-boy gangbang.”
“It won’t be like that,” he hurriedly assured me. “It’s not about us, Ashley. It’s about you. The more orgasms you have, the more luck we’ll have as we apply for grad schools and start our new careers. I know it sounds crazy but it works. Look at our membership roster. We’ve had some extremely successful guys come out of this chapter.”
He was totally serious. “You’re nuts.”
“Am I?” he daringly asked. “How is this any different than you leaving pennies on the Sul Ross statue for good luck? Or Ginger carrying that lucky rabbit’s foot, or any of the other weird things people do?”
“Because it’s not wild orgy sex, Chris!”
“Come on,” he playfully nudged me, “you’re not even a tiny bit interested?”
“No!” Yet even as I shouted at him, visions of the dirtiest, hottest sex ever exploded in my mind. Sure, I was a twenty-year-old virgin but I wasn’t by any means a prude. I enjoyed amateur porn, often the kinkiest stuff, and loved my collection of erotic novels and short stories. There were four different kinds of vibrators in the bottom drawer of my bedside table. And a couple of times, Ginger and I had gotten smashed and masturbated right next to one another.
So, no, I wasn’t a sexless weirdo or the kind of girl who wanted to wait for marriage. I was just waiting for the right time and the right guy. For some time now, I’d wondered if maybe, just maybe, Chris was that mythical right guy.
Lately, I spent a lot of time thinking of Chris when I played with my pussy. Most of my dirtier fantasies starred my drop-dead-sexy, football-playin’ buddy. It was hard not to lust after him. He was the big guy on campus, the All-American football god destined for bigger and better things.
And he was sweet and funny and such a hard worker. We’d started off as simply study buddies but somewhere along the way, we’d become real friends. He always included me in invites to the hottest parties, and even though I stuck out like a sore thumb among the primped and bronzed sorority beauties, I enjoyed the social scene.
Fantasizing about Chris was pretty much the only way I was ever going to get a piece of his hot ass. Guys like him didn’t date girls like me. He was a business major. I was studying nuclear engineering. He was pure sex, with his blond hair and blue eyes and juicy muscles. Me? I was a slightly frumpy, self-professed geek who hadn’t seen the inside of a gym since high school. And I wasn’t exactly winning any fashion contests with my permanent ponytail and a uniform consisting of jeans and tees and sneakers.
Sure, we shared a love of comic books and video games and the same sick sense of humor, but it wasn’t enough. I’d seen the bombshells he dated. There was no way I could compete with the flock of Southern beauties he’d sampled.
Chris took my hand in his big paw and gave it a squeeze. “We’ll make it amazing for you.”
My stomach fluttered and clenched. Visions of a violent gangbang were replaced with something far more sensual. The idea of a dozen or so frat boys licking and sucking and caressing my body sent shivers of excitement up my spine. What would that feel like? All those fingers and tongues on my body at one time? I squirmed just thinking about it.
“As president of the chapter, it was my choice, Ashley, and I wanted you.”
Agog at his revelation, I gaped at him. “Me? You chose me?” I figured I’d been the least objectionable option, but the way Chris spoke made it sound like I’d been first choice. “Of all the non-Greek virgins on campus, why in the world would you pick me?”
“Are you serious?” Chris seemed incredulous. “Ashley, you’re amazing. You’re pretty
and funny and so fucking sweet. You’re the first woman who has ever treated me like a man and not babied me or pitied me over my dyslexia. You didn’t let me pull any tricks or weasel my way out of the hard work. You forced me to grow the fuck up and act like a mature adult.”
Chris sighed. “I’ve had it bad for you for a long time. I know I’m not your type. I’m not the brilliant mad scientist you usually go for.” He snorted. “Hell, I can barely balance my goddamn checkbook.”
“Don’t do that,” I scolded, hating it when he discounted his intelligence. “Don’t put yourself down like that, Chris. We’re just different kinds of smart. Sure, I understand sub-atomic physics but I can’t name all the members of the G20 or their countries’ currencies. You’ve got the kind of business smarts I wish I could master.”
He smiled and knocked his upper arm against mine. “Now you’re just being kind.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever.”
“I was being honest about having the hots for you, Ashley. Please don’t think I’m just trying to butter you up to convince you to go through with this ritual thing of ours. If you wanna walk, I’ll take you home right now.” He rubbed his thumb over my knuckles. “But I’d really like it if you stayed.”
My heart raced. Could I really do this? Was I the kind of girl who could enjoy playing the starring role in a frat-boy orgy? If the dampness in my panties was any indication, apparently I was exactly the kind of girl they needed. My pussy was getting wetter and wetter just thinking about it. I didn’t even want to know what that said about me.
I gulped and nodded slowly. “Okay, Chris. I’ll do it. I’ll be your virgin sacrifice.”
“Yeah?” Grinning, Chris brought my hand to his mouth and kissed my knuckles. “You’re going to love this.” He brushed his fingers across my cheek. “You can say no at any time, okay? If you get scared or it’s too much, just tell me and I’ll put an end to the whole thing.”
