Every year Hannah's sorority holds a naughty event called "the lottery." The girls in the house are matched up with anonymous frat brothers and given one hour to go wild in a seedy motel room. Hannah's a sweet little freshman who fantasizes about being slutty with a stranger, and her masked man has the passion (and the girth) she's always craved. There's just one little problem: He's her brother!~~~~~ PG Excerpt ~~~~~It was 10PM on a Friday night.I was sitting on the bed in the fugliest motel room I'd ever seen.I was wearing nothing but a tight black thong and a black mesh shirt. No bra. Did the mask count as clothing? It itched against my skin. A black Mardi Gras mask with black feathers and rhinestones. I told Liz it made me look stupid, but when she saw me in the mesh and the thong she shook her head. "No, honey. He's not gonna think you look stupid.""How long?" I whispered, out of breath from standing still."We're getting everyone organized, making sure they remember the rules and know their room number.""Okay.""Have fun, Little. Anything goes bad, you just give a yell. It's only Sig Delts in the motel. We have an arrangement with the manager.""Okay."She stroked my neck. "Breathe, honey.""Okay."And then she was gone and I was alone in my fugly motel room. In nothing but a mesh shirt and a thong, and my mask.Waiting.Wet, and waiting.My heart was pounding so hard it made my breasts bounce. I wondered if he'd notice through the mesh. How could he not? Then again, he might just stop breathing when I answered the door. I sat on the edge of the bed with my thighs pressed tightly together, my hands clasped between them, bouncing my feet wondering if I could do this and knowing (I should say flowing) that I wanted this, wanted this with a burning passion.This was the sluttiest thing I'd ever done and I'd been dreaming about it for weeks. For one night I was free of my usual worries: My grades, my duties, my sisters. For one hour my pleasure was the only item on my menu. Would he be hungry?When I heard the knock on the door my breath stopped in my throat. I bounced to my feet with a dizzying rush to my head. I swallowed, and took a step. Stopped. I took a deep breath, reflexively smoothed down my shirt, and then laughed at myself. What was there to smooth? My nipples were poking through the mesh - and I could hardly say I was making myself decent. "Remember, girl," I said, "decent is the last thing you want to be right now."Just before I opened the door I readjusted my mask and readied the smile I'd practiced in the mirror all afternoon. Then I opened the door, struck a pose, and flashed my smile.It had the right effect.His jaw dropped. I mean literally. He had a nervous smile on his face when I opened the door but it fell right off him (just about when I wiggled) and he was left wide-eyed standing in the doorway.He was still cute. He was much taller than me, with big broad shoulders, a good chin, and full, kissable lips. His neck wasn't the meaty kind that belonged atop a linebacker, but it was still thick with muscle. He had a very nice chest. It stretched the fabric of his tight t-shirt, swelling his trunk the way his biceps filled out his short sleeves. Finally, wonder upon wonders, he had kind, beautiful eyes. They were just a shade darker than my own green irises and made me feel like I'd rediscovered a forgotten friend.When I saw his eyes, I knew this would work.