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Here's where I state my disclaimer. I'm not a fraternity kind of individual. My education was more about money and getting a degree than actively participating in campus life. It was my choice and I certainly don't fault people for their decisions. There are plenty of reasons to immerse yourself in the community of your local university. That said you must be prepared to deal with the consequences of your actions, as I did.

I was picking up a few classes back when I had just started at the adult shop, trying to get my life on a career track instead of slinging dildoes for a living. Of course the price of classes was exorbitantly expensive and my salary wasn't equipped to handle them. It was equipped to disqualify me for assistance though; which is how I wound up on a small athletic stipend by joining the swim team.

Don't get me wrong. I always loved to swim. Partly because I'm built for it, a tail rudder can really help to steer when you're treading water, and partly because as an otherwise sedentary reptile it was one of the few ways I could avoid gaining a few pounds from my otherwise less than stellar diet. Of course the relative narcissism I inherited from catching my profile in the mirror was a bonus as well. That and I looked damn hot in the neon blue speedos that comprised the swim team's "uniform".

Joining the team also afforded me an introduction to my teammates, which in turn introduced me to the fodder for much of my early teenage fantasies, the jocks. Oh, the jocks. Individuals unhindered by anything but the obsessive need to look like they were carved of pure marble. Delicate striations in all the right places, broad shoulders I could just dangle helplessly from, firm buttocks you could bounce a quarter off of ...

Ahem. Sorry. Good memories.

Of course the locker rooms of the Athletics Department belied the cruelest of lies. Sadly, there were no random pantsings followed by deep throating or obsessive French kissing. Not that I honestly thought porn was any reflection of real life but there is always room for hope.

Fortunately for me, lacking external gentialia, I didn't worry about having to pop a boner when my teammates stripped down to their skivvies without concern or shame. Everting was something that required a modicum of conscious effort, even if I still felt like my slit was going to rupture every time one of them would bend over or stretch to get a kink out of their back. Unfortunately, my tail blushing was considerably harder to mask and so I had to watch who was looking from behind or I'd get teased for being a prude.

Yeah, me being a prude; nights working in a sex shop and my team thought I was embarrassed by a little nudity. I wasn't about to suggest otherwise, considering that would admit that I was lewdly ogling them without their foreknowledge. Instead, I just blushed and quietly averted my gaze. In retrospect, that may have been part of the problem.

Getting to know my expanding social group meant one big thing, parties. For some reason, not that I'm complaining, most of the jocks enjoyed ribaldries that consisted mostly of getting so completely drunk you couldn't tell which way was up. For myself, alcohol had some altered effects. Maybe it was something in my reptilian genes or just bodily organs which didn't want to put up with my shit. That said, I was a lightweight and had to be careful or I'd wind up in torpor for a day or two while my liver berated me for the assault. Sadly, my teammates took this as a challenge. Which lead to the party in question.

I'd just finished my midterm and was ready to unwind. Things were going well and we had a long weekend ahead. Everyone wanted to get wasted and in a moment of aggravated young foolishness, I decided to let it rip. Five beers later, I had a nice buzz going and my friends had managed to convince me to dress up to go out. Of course, their suggestions weren't really normal attire.

Ryan, an otter on the swim team with me, had recently had a nasty breakup with his then girlfriend of six months. She stormed out of his apartment, burned everything he'd left at hers and asserted that she never wanted to see him again. This was one of the reasons for the current boozefest we were all participating in. However, as a way to both rub salt into the wound and convince Ryan to get over his lost love, I was volunteered to play act in her place.

This meant that when I emerged from the bathroom, stumbling a little as I tried to keep my balance, I was wearing a tight purple miniskirt and matching tubetop. Both were left behind by the previous girlfriend and seeing me in them elicited both shock and spluttered laughter from Ryan as he fell backwards onto his couch and spilled beer all over himself.

For my part, through my drunken haze, I thought I looked pretty damn good. Walking into the living room, I caught my reflection in the mirror. The skirt hung nice and low on my hips, flaring out just a little to catch the curve of my butt and tail. The tubetop cupped my pecs and framed them quite nice. Since everyone else thought I was just playacting, I went with it and got to second base more times in the hour before we left than I had in the five years since I came out to myself.

Of course, my look was something that everyone decided _had_ to be shared; which is how I wound up at a massive frat party just outside of campus and how my night became awkward.

See, the thing about mammals and drunk ones in particular, is that they are already a little dim on how their own stuff works and completely clueless about how other species stuff works. By stuff, in this case, I mean sexual organs. Being one of the less mammalian types, my junk stays pretty well secured. Honestly, I wonder how most species can handle their stuff flopping around all the time. Regardless, the lack of a prominent bulge coupled with a miniskirt and tubetop did little to establish my masculinity.

This meant I was frequently hit on by drunk party participants, not an altogether unpleasant experience save for the few more gropey kinds. Since my own buzz was still in full force, I was all too eager to play along, stealing kisses and flipping up my skirt to reveal the bright white panties I'd been given to accent the outfit. Never before had I garnered the attentions of so many delicious men.

However, they were also here to party and the lizard "chick" was a ready target for fun and games. Beer pong, Quarters and Kegstands were all new to me a few hours before and now each were being introduced to me in turn. By the end of it, I don't remember much, save for the distinctive feeling of falling onto something soft and warm.

Later I found out that something soft and warm was none other than Tyrian, the quarterback for the football team. He'd been the one to try before me and didn't stay stable for long before falling off onto the couch next to the keg. Unwilling or unable to move, he just sprawled there for a moment before I came tumbling down on top of him.

I do remember the next thing, the feeling of warm arms wrapping around me, sinking into the thick and lush fur and basking in the warmth. Heat's my big weakness and there's nothing like a big, strong tiger wrapping his arms around you. It's like a blanket made of tiny fibers of silk and backed by a warm fireplace just pulled you in.

I don't know how long we stayed like that, but I was thankful for the respite. Tyrian was more than happy to hold me there, purring like an outboard motor as he nuzzled and kissed me delicately along the neck. My buzz had faded into a nice, warm glow and I felt like I could just pass out here and die a happy man. Sadly, Tyrian shifted beneath me, gently sliding me off of him and taking my hand before slipping off the couch myself.

Without a word, he gently pulled me through the crowd, a wave of blurred faces and overwhelmed with bursts of laughter. We pushed our way through a door and into the muted silence of one of the bedrooms.

At that point, it became hands on again. Soft paws stroking over my exposed belly, soft nuzzles along my neck and gentle nips at my scales. Tyrian was putting the moves on me something heavy, his paw sliding down over my hip and squeezing softly. Somewhere, in the back of my head, I was telling myself that I should probably inform him I was a guy, take the inevitable shock and him stumbling out of the door and go home alone.

As I leaned up to kiss him softly on the lips, I told that part of myself to just shut the goddamned fuck up and pressed my body close to his.

Despite being drunk, he was remarkably dexterous. His fingers trailed delicately up along my thigh, brushing over the front of my panties before pressing a thumb gently against my slit. Twinges of pleasure shot up my spine as the delicate material brushed against my more sensitive scales, my tailbase darkening as I leaned more into the kiss.

Gingerly, he began working us backwards, pressing against me just enough to make me fall back into the thick comforter that covered the bed behind us. He pressed his chest against mine, nibbling along my throat as his hands slid under my tubetop to grope and caress my pectorals. Every inch of me was tingling, shuddering under these ministrations. My toes curling and uncurling as his tongue traced delicately over my abdomen.

Smoothly his thick fingers curled around the waistband of my skirt and panties, drawing them down my legs and exposing my already over sensitized slit to the cooler air. I hissed softly between clenched teeth, wanting to keep this going as long as possible before he realized I was a guy. Thing is, he didn't.

Without noticing the less than subtle differences between girl parts and mine, he simply smiled and lowered his muzzle to my groin. I went a deep purple as I realized his intentions. Index and middle finger pressed at either side of my slit, parting my slitlips and exposing the softer, musky flesh beneath. His tongue dipped along the edges, trailing over the sensitive scales in a slow and steady arc before dipping into the shallow opening.

I was all but clawing the sheets. Sure, I had a guy suck my dick once but it was just that; lips around my shaft, up and down until the inevitable conclusion. It was pleasureable but this ... this was mindblowing. My legs tensed and my slit felt like it was on fire. He dipped his whole muzzle in, pressing my half-hard shaft deeper into my slit, the cold, moist nose pressing against the sensitive flesh. My hands fell to his head, hips arching upwards as I let out a lustful moan. For his part, I assume, the alcohol was blurring the somewhat different anatomy his skilled muzzle was encountering. That said, he never paused or stopped, the rough and smooth tongue trailing over every inch of my now over sensitized groin.

Leaving me whimpering, he lifted his muzzle out of my stretched slit, whiskers dripping with my musk. I gasped, biting my lower lip as just the brush of his fur against my groin sent shockwaves along my spine. Slowly he moved upwards, kissing back up my body as his paws fell down to his hips. Smoothly, he shucked his pants as his lips met mine again. The scent on his lips and the flicker of his tongue against mine disarmed me for what was to come next.

I felt a warm pressure back on my slit and it took a moment for me to realize that he was pushing his own cock inside me. One thing I was definitely not expecting was his size; not very long but thick around as a beer can. I groaned as he drove his length into me, rubbing his barbed shaft against my own with a couple of quick thrusts. There wasn't much room for him to work with, but that didn't stop him from driving those powerful hips against me. Each thrust forced the air from my lips, my slit already straining to contain this ample member. His soft furred balls slapped against my thighs, jostling and tightening as his thrusting became erratic and passionate.

His whole body pressed me down against the bed as he slammed harder and harder against me, his metered panting becoming more ragged. My hands fell to his hips, arching up to meet him with every thrust as I felt the familiar tingle of my own oncoming finish. Our lips pressed together, both us clutching each other like drowning men as I felt the hot rush of his seed flooding my slit, oozing out across my scales. My own spurts mingled and dribbled out of my half-hard shaft, twitching inside me as he lifted his head away for a bellowing roar.

Fortunately, the music was still pumping loud enough in the other room that no one came to check. Unfortunately, his orgasm had sapped what little energy he had left. Two hundred and seventy five pounds of beefy quarterback collapsed on top of me, going slack as his eyes fluttered shut. Still buzzed, I didn't really have the room to complain. My thighs were splattered with cum and every muscle that had been rigid before was now protesting with a dull, steady throb. I squeezed out from under him as best I could and lolled my head to the side as I too began to nod off.

Someone found us a while later and despite the prime condition we were both in for taking pictures and posting them on the internet, I have yet to see one. Next thing I remember is the warm rush of the shower over my scales and Ryan sitting on the toilet next to me.

"Dude. I know you were doin' this to get me over my ex, but that doesn't mean you had to go _that_ far!"

I blushed, my buzz slowly fading into a mild headache. That said, I had been literally caught with my pants down and I really couldn't keep this up much longer.

"Ryan. Look, it wasn't the booze. I need to tell you something."

"You're gay?" he said, a rather placid expression on his face. "We figured. You got embarrassed way too easily when we stripped."

"Wait, you knew? Holy shit, you knew?"

Ryan nodded, "it's not a thing. I mean, gotta admit that's why we thought you'd go for the skirt. Sorry. Old habits."

My head thumped against the wall of the shower, "what about Tyrian?"

Ryan bit his lip, "uh, he doesn't know. He still thinks you were a smokin' hot lizard chick he got all the way with. That said, he's still kinda buzzed but Mike's pouring some coffee in him."

I sighed, letting the water soak into my scales, "this is going to be an extremely awkward conversation, isn't it?"

Ryan patted me on the back, "yup. He's asking about you right now. Party's winding down. If you wanna talk to him he's in the living room. That said, we've still got your back. You're on the team. We might fuck with you ..." he quirked his lips to the side, "bad choice of words. We might mess with you, but we've liked you since the first week. We'll make sure nothing happens."

I thanked him, still happy to be getting my good sense back and to be under the shower. Of course the voice was back, berating me with 'I told you so's. Nothing I hate worse than a self-satisfied conscience.

I took a while to get cleaned up, my groin feeling like I'd just taken the worlds more pleasurable sledgehammer to it. Mostly, I was just stalling. Facing Tyrian wasn't high on my list of things to do freshly after my first real bender. Eventually, I sucked it up, toweled off and headed out into the house.

By now, it was just a couple of the guys from the swim team, Ryan, Tyrian and a few others starting to clean up. Apparently, after finding us in the other room, the rest of them felt it was best to wrap the party up before anyone else less discreet stumbled across us. Tyrian's face fell as he saw me sans gender specific clothing and a creeping realization began to spark behind his eyes. I nodded to everyone else and pulled the stunned quarterback into the hall.

"Holy shit. You're a guy. Oh my god. You're a guy." Tyrian was stumbling over his words, eyes open wide as he gawked at me. "How are you a guy if you don't have a dick?"

Lectures of reptilian biology laid aside, I tried to be as reasonable as possible. "Look, we were both a little drunk and ... well, things went where they went. Noth-"

"Oh shit. I'm gay now, aren't I? I fucked a dude and that makes me gay. Shit!"

At this point, I'm not sure if it was the booze, my general headache or simply an unwillingness to deal with his freakout but all I remember is my hand coming up and smacking him across the cheek. Normally, I'd be concerned about doing that to someone but Tyrian still had his winter coat and it felt more like smacking a pillow than a person. Still, it had the desired effect. He snapped out of his brainlock long enough for me to talk to him.

"Look, I'm already feeling physically bad about what we did." I rubbed my hand, "so let's just get this straight. You aren't gay. I'm gay. I'm sorry I lead you on, that was assholish of me but, well, I was drunk and horny. Something I'm sure you can relate to."

Tyrian rubbed his cheek a little and nodded.

"No one's going to blackmail you about this or anything. This wasn't a setup. We'll all just go our separate ways and forget that any of this happened, alright?"

Tyrian's lips parted, his tongue running across them as his brow furrowed. As adorable as it was, I refrained from repeating my earlier mistake and just kissing him again right there. After a few moments, he nodded.

"We cool?"

"We're cool." He said, patting my shoulder. "Though you were still the best lay I'd had in weeks. Figures you'd be a dude, it's just my luck."

I flinched, blood rushing to my cheeks, "thanks. Just ... thanks."

He slapped me solidly on the back and the two of us returned to the kitchen. There wasn't much conversation after that, just me borrowing some clothes and Ryan, now having witnessed me in his ex's getup getting down with the quarterback, being well over his heartbreak. Sadly, I didn't keep in touch with Tyrian; different sports and different degrees. Though he did stop by the shop, as a complete coincidence. Turns out, our encounter opened his eyes a little. Also turns out that meant he discovered a joy for androgynous types and a secret love of being pegged. Neither piece of information, I have to say, made it any less hard to see him walk out that door and not succumb to the urge to put on a miniskirt and trying to start something behind the beaded curtains. Still, we'll always have the drunken debauchery of our youth; the sultry, warm, delicious debauchery.

Excuse me a sec, I ... gotta take care of something.