Rita Sondale - Sorority house Mother

One of the problems a House Mother employed by a college fraternity continually faces now that most colleges and universities are co-ed, is making sure that at the witching hour of midnight, all the young girls are back in the sorority houses and the young gentlemen are tucked into the comfortable beds.

Mrs. James was no exception. At the age of thirty-seven, after a four-year tour in the U.S. Navy as a specialist in aerial photography, and after a divorce from a marriage that lasted six years, it would appear that she was ideally suited for the job.

However, she was not. She was constantly frustrated by the incredible antics of the undergraduates, their complete lack of self-discipline and a collective attitude toward education that at times made her shudder. She well remembered her own college days. A system existed then!

These days it definitely did not. The young men spent money as if it grew on trees. They raced round the campus in expensive sport cars. They cut classes. They drank in their rooms. They fucked every girl they could find and this included the "townies," or the local girls of whom the college girls were extremely jealous.

They ran around the house half dressed and sometimes stark naked. On her night off she knew they screened dirty movies they bought in New York sex shoppes.

This wasn't all. Without exception, all twenty young men, ages eighteen through twenty-one, continually made passes at her. If she wasn't propositioned by at least five in one day, or evening as they watched television instead of attending to their homework or studying for examinations, she found herself feeling restless and even unwanted.

At the age of thirty seven, Gloria James looked ten years younger. Her swollen ripe breasts with her erect nipples often jutting out suggestively under the soft cashmere sweaters she loved, not only excited and aroused the fraternity boys, but also herself. Much too often did she find herself toying with her nipples through the sweater, pinching them or just tickling them with her sharp fingernail.

To say that Gloria James was sexually frustrated would be a classical understatement. To say that she hungered for love, for affection, for tenderness and at the same time lusted for vulgar sex she had found only in fantasy would be understating the understatement!

She craved sex. But as a House Mother for Phi Kappa Beta at a fabulous salary with a small but cozy two room apartment on the very top floor of the PKB fraternity house, risking any kind of serious adventure with any of the boys would cost her her job. This she could not afford.

She loved this apartment. It had a wonderful view of the campus, the tall green trees, the wide, sloping lawns, the revolutionary-styled campus buildings and, in the distance the winding river and the railroad bridge that crossed it.

At night, alone, sitting by the window, naked, masturbating, she'd idly wait for the flashing lights of the different trains zipping across the bridge, disappearing in the darkness. She loved to hear the train's whistles as they roared into the small town terminal.

Alone in the double bed, lights out, window open, she'd daydream about her future or recall delicious moments of her past. She always kept one ear cocked for any shenanigans downstairs. The other listened for the last city-bound, a local that told her it was 12:00 midnight.

This was Mrs. James' cue to put on her robe and pass every door of the private rooms the rich boys occupied. Each had sworn an oath, when she knocked softly, they were to reply, if they were awake, that they were alone.

This oath also included the silent statement that the occupant was not smoking in his bed. If she saw a bright light under the door, this meant the boy inside was studying. She never bothered to knock on these doors. No one likes to be disturbed while he's studying.

After she'd circulated through the three-story house that had once been a rich man's mansion, checking the door locks and the kitchen, she would press the burglar alarm button.

Then she would take the one-man elevator up to the top floor. From here she'd climb a staircase up to her eagle's nest-like apartment.

She would turn on the silent television, closed circuit monitor that screened the corridors on the second and third floors and the main rooms down on the first.

These included the pleasant dining room, the two lounges, the library and the entrance to the "Holy of Hollies."

The Holy of Hollies was the fraternity's most sacred place. In here were kept all the ritualistic materials used in fraternal initiation, the records of the members, the "brothers" as they called themselves, and also the ceremonial altar that contained the sacred scroll. This contained the names of every member since time immemorial.

No woman and no stranger was welcome in the H of H. The door, except for ceremonial occasions, was always kept bolted, the locks sealed personally by the acting president.

During the elaborate parties often thrown by Phi Kappa Beta, a guard was always posted at the door of the Holy of Holies.

The actual work involved in Mrs. James' job as House Mother was not very demanding. Mostly it consisted of keeping records, supervising the daily supper menu, doing the shopping by telephone, writing checks that paid the bills and making routine checks on the two women who worked down in the basement doing the brothers' laundry, washing and ironing, pressing their trousers and jackets.

She also kept the library in order, putting back books, taking the boys' orders for new ones, including mailing subscriptions for magazines.

She also supervised the maid who kept the fraternity house clean and tidy and made up the boys' beds if they didn't do so themselves; and they were highly encouraged to do all their room-work themselves. This was part of the fraternal discipline but many of the brothers were either too lazy to comply or rich enough to poke up their noses and slip the maid $20.00 a week.

She had nothing to do with the cook or the two waitresses, town people who worked part-time and kept pretty much to themselves. They'd been hired before she took the job.

So for most of the time she was free, often bored. She ate breakfast, lunch and supper in her apartment if she didn't feel a need to get out of the house and visit any of the restaurants downtown. In the fraternity house her food was brought up on a tray; in the morning, by the maid; for lunch and supper, by one of the two pretty waitresses who served the fraternity boys in the main dining room; or, if they were ill, as it happens, in the boy's room.

Every third afternoon, week in and week out, she went to the lone movie house for the matinee. Often on Saturday night, she'd take the train into the city. She'd check into a hotel and either see a new film or a stage play or a musical comedy.

But most of the time Gloria James was extremely lonely. She had never enjoyed going to bars. She didn't like to be picked up. She sincerely detested greedy men making obscene advances.

What she did like was to drink in pleasant company, to relax, enjoy stimulating conversation and be genuinely admired for her sensual beauty and respected for her brains.

Gloria was extremely sexy when she wanted to be. Her body was superb. Long legs, pretty feet, a narrow waist and luscious breasts. But her most adorable feature was her behind. Her buttocks, when she was walking, or even standing still, were beautifully rounded, curvy and provocative.

If she'd bend over slightly, her two bottom globes and the crack between them would draw the eye of anyone as a magnet attracts metal. In her bedroom, naked, she would often admire them in her three-way mirror, caressing them, bending way over so she could see her tiny, hairless anus and her pouting, plump and very hairy pussy lips.