Page 13 of Frat Ghost Wingman

“Try another one.”

“What?”

I watched the top right drawer on my dresser open slowly, which was weird as fuck because I didn’t remember taking any shots before coming up to my room.

“Maybe you did.”

I thought the guys had been day drinking, but I couldn’t remember. It certainly didn’t matter once I saw the drawer. All my boxers were gone; it was entirely full of thongs, lace panties, jockstraps and other skimpy-looking briefs.

There were so many colors.

“Pick one and try it on.”

I really liked the feel of the lace, but I chose a bright red thong. It was my favorite color after all. This one had a Y-back in between the cheeks, giving it a little extra color. More than the strings I was wearing before.

I walked over to the floor-to-ceiling mirror by my bed to take a photo. I’d never done that before but why not now? My ass looked that good.

“Fuck, I’m exhausted.”

I practically hit the ceiling. Glancing over, Zach had fallen face first onto his bed. He hadn’t seen me!

I sprinted to my bed and flipped the comforter over me as he turned to sit and face me.

“Were you jerking off?”

“No!”

“You look flushed. I can leave.”

“I was not jerking off.”

“This is too weird. I have to leave now.”

He grabbed a book from his bookshelf and headed out the door he had just waltzed through less than a minute before.

It took me a bit, but I realized the tiny red pouch was straining to contain me. Almost getting caught had me fully erect.

What the fuck was happening?

The end of September was uneventful other than my newly expanded wardrobe. The responsible party had yet to take credit for the prank, but I wasn’t giving them the satisfaction of getting angry. Honestly, I liked the change.

The jockstraps were fine to play soccer in and no one said anything about them in the locker room. The other stuff I wore in my room and around the house. It was my little secret and it turned me on, which meant I was constantly hard and leaking.

Thankfully, fall had arrived early, and with it, boner-concealing jeans.

Family Weekend was the second weekend in October and the KΩK house was sparing no expense. Most of the parents, including mine, were arriving this morning. The twins were on their way back from an away match yesterday–a win–and a huge banquet was planned for tonight after the home soccer and football games. They were at the same time, so it was likely we’d have a much smaller crowd than normal, but the size of the crowd never mattered to me. As long as Zach was there.

As for the rest of it, I focused on the opponent, knowing their skills and then taking advantage of their weaknesses. There was a lot more strategy now than in high school; we had a legion of assistant coaches for things like that.

According to research, this team’s weakness was their overconfidence. Their defense pushed up too far too often, so all I needed to do was find the right moment to call for a cross–like now–then sprint faster than them–easily the fastest person on the field–and shoot it past the goalie–done.

One to nothing, Middleton. Only took me five minutes to score.

I had another secret – besides the sexy underwear. Well, I guess it wasn’t a complete secret since Evan knew.

“So who was it today that had you all fired up?”

“Cyclops,” I answered with a smile, pulling up my shirtsleeve to reveal the temporary tattoo on my bicep.