From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Hot Wish (FM+, slut) [1/2]
Date: 4 Oct 1996 01:46:41 GMT
(c) J. BOSWELL, January 1993
Giving Him What He Wants
Another Hot Wife Tale
by
J. Boswell
Part One
Wife, mother, career woman, suburban homemaker - that's me.
Nothing out of the ordinary in my life - or so I thought. Happily
married to Phil for nine years, and the mother of charming, brilliant,
adorable, 6-year-old Bobby, I was comfortable with my role and
responsibilities. I guess that's why finding Phil's "secret" was such
a shock to my system.
Let me tell you about it:
It was a beautiful Spring Friday and Phil had volunteered to
help chaperon Bobby's nursery school class on the trip to the zoo. I
volunteered to stay home from the office, too, and do the laundry and
fill some "Goodwill" bags so we could go to my Mother's ocean condo
for the weekend.
(My second reason for staying home was a lot more devious. I
thought that if I could get rid of a lot of Phil's old clothes, my
frugal C.P.A. husband would be forced to go out and buy some things
that had been made at least since Reagan was president!) The closet
took longer than I thought it would, but resulted in a big pile of old
clothes. Then I moved over to Phil's chest of drawers. The top drawer
yielded more than a few pairs of old socks that I knew didn't reach
Phil's ankles. The next drawer turned up underwear that Phil had owned
when we got married - onto the pile they went!
The third drawer was a mishmash of sweaters, t-shirts, and
sweatshirts. As I emptied it, a flash of color in the bottom caught my
eyes. When I looked closer, I saw it was a thin pile of photographs
obviously cut from magazines, tucked under the liner paper.
I lifted them out and was shocked to see that they were
erotic! I was so surprised because I had never seen Phil even glance
at a PLAYBOY and here were pictures of men and women blatantly having
sex - and in positions too numerous to count!
I didn't even know they sold stuff as graphic as this. I
guess my biggest surprise was that Phil felt compelled to hide them
like a 13-year-old boy. I was pretty liberal, and it wouldn't have
bothered me in the least if he wanted to buy magazines like this - as
long as he didn't leave them out for Bobby to find. And then I
realized that maybe Phil *WAS* hiding them from Bobby, and not me.
There were about thirty pages and the theme was the same on
each - one woman with several men. The woman in each picture was
being, or was about to be, or had just been penetrated by the men's
large penises. One photo showed the woman literally being showered by
six ejaculating cocks! I had to admit, the pictures were sexy and
mildly titillating because they were so graphic, but they really
didn't turn me on (and, in fact, one or two of them I even considered
gross). But, the more I examined the photos, the more I realized I had
been wrong - Phil *WAS* hiding them from me. Like a zap of lightning,
I realized there was another consistent feature in the photos - every
single woman in the numerous photos was blonde, blue-eyed, and had
large breasts - just like me!
Was Phil fantasizing it was *ME* in the pictures? That thought
was more than a little bizarre.
I put the photos down and examined the drawer again, and
that's when I found something that *DID* turn me on, and more than a
little.
In the very bottom of the drawer, carefully wrapped in a t-
shirt, were two pages from a men's magazine, but there were no
pictures. Each preserved between two stiff, shiny sheets of clear
laminate plastic, the two pages showed their age and heavy use before
laminating. A couple of corners were missing, the edges were ragged
and torn, and, before being laminated, they had been folded and opened
and refolded until the "X" of the center fold was a small hole in the
center of each page. I couldn't imagine how old the pages were or how
many times the two pages had been read.
I sat back on our bed and read them to myself for the first
time:
This Month's Editor's Choice
Dear Editors,
My wife and I are both in our early thirties,
and although she obviously wasn't a virgin when
I married her, her claim is that I'm the only
man in her life. I didn't really care who she
had fucked, or how many, or what she said about
me being the "only man she's ever really loved"
because I had screwed around, too, and with at
least two other women before we were married.
But after eleven years of married life, things
had gotten pretty dull for me. I just knew that
a lot of our friends were probably into casual
wife-swapping and I suggested to the wife that
we try to join them for a party or two - just to
see what's going on. I kept at it, but she
whined and said she didn't want to. She said she
loved me, and was a married woman and would feel
like a cheap slut screwing another man. She went
on to say she would be worried about how she'd
feel about screwing a friend or a friend's
husband, her guilt, the gossip, blah, blah,
blah. I got tired listening.
Since I couldn't persuade her to go along with
my idea, and she sure as hell didn't tell me to
go out and party without her, I decided to see
if I could spice up our sex-life by arranging
some excitement. Maybe if some spur-of-the-
moment fucking took place, then she'd see my
swinging idea was a good one.
The first time I tried something was over five
years ago, with an out-of-town salesman I met in
a bar after work. He was a big, muscular guy,
sitting next to me at the bar and bitching about
the lack of pussy in the place. After a few
beers, on impulse, I showed him some pictures of
my wife in a bikini, and as he was drooling all
over them, I asked him if he'd like to do me a
favor.
I told him that my wife was a little kinky and
liked some fresh meat every now and then, and
that, occasionally, we invited a friend in to
help her out, and that I liked him enough to
invite him to join us for some fun.
He agreed in a flash, the horny bastard.
As I drove him to our house, I told him not to
take "no" for an answer from her, that she was a
real cockteaser and that it was just part of her
hard-to-get game. I told him that for her,
"being taken" by a real man was her hottest
turn-on. This guy was going nuts listening to my
bullshit, almost nodding his stupid head off.
When we got home, I was glad to see that my wife
still had her work clothes on. She works in a
big office and dresses pretty nice each day. She
looked real good in her fancy white blouse,
tight skirt and high heels.
I introduced the salesman to my wife as my
long-lost Army buddy who was just passing
through town. We fed her some bullshit story
about how he saved my life in a bar room brawl
and how I could never repay him for it. We all
had a few drinks before and after dinner, and
the guy definitely liked what he saw and was
getting friendlier with her as we took turns
dancing with her after dinner.
After an hour or so, I was making another round
of drinks in the kitchen when I heard some noise
from the family room. I peeked into the room and
saw that the guy had my wife pinned up against
the wall. She was struggling against him as he
was kissing her hard on the mouth and he had his
hand shoved up under her skirt. She managed to
push away from him when I entered the room, and
I was heartened to see that things just might
get pretty interesting.
Figuring they would get nowhere with me around,
I told them that I had just killed the Scotch
and that I would run out for more. I said that
being so far out in the country, it would take
me about forty-five minutes.
My wife said she wanted to go to the store so I
could stay and talk to my buddy, but I grabbed
my keys and left.
I was gone close to an hour. I figured by the
time I got home, things would be warmed up and
I'd join in the fun. But, when I got home, I
found them sitting at opposite ends of the sofa,
watching TV and talking. I was a little
disappointed because I couldn't tell if anything
had happened - and it didn't look like anything
had.
Later, when I drove the guy back to his motel,
the asshole told me that my wife had really
resisted him for a while, turning him on more
and more, getting him into her game. He said to
screw her, he finally had to pin her down on the
floor and rip her panties to get his dick in. He
said after he came, he yanked her skirt and
blouse and bra off and told her he wouldn't give
them back until she blew him. He said he was
just zipping up and she was still swallowing his
cum and buttoning her blouse as I pulled into
the driveway.
It was good to hear that something happened and
even if I didn't get my shot, I was encouraged
that I could set up some fun things and maybe
get her into the mood to spread her precious
pussy around a little. When I got home, I tried
to pry some information from her about what
happened with my "Army buddy" while I was gone,
but she just said he was a jerk and never
mentioned a thing about her fucking and blowing
him, and she still refused to consider swinging.
Nothing else happened until a few months later,
when we went on our summer vacation. We stayed
in a nice motel and met three other couples
staying there. During the week, we went golfing
and to the beach with them, and I noticed the
hot looks the guys were giving my wife and her
big tits, even in her conservative bathing
suits. On the last night together, the eight of
us closed the bar and went back to one of the
rooms to continue the party.
There was a lot of kissie-feelie going on and I
thought something might soon develop - maybe
even a wild orgy and I'd finally get my ashes
hauled by some new pussy - even if none of the
other wives was in my wife's class for looks and
body. But we never got beyond the little kisses
and the party began to crap out. Some people
wanted to crash and some others wanted to go eat
at the all-night diner. After we all split up,
there was me, my wife, and another guy in the
room. This guy had been ogling my wife all week
and that night had been trying to grab her tits
every chance he got.
When my wife went into the bathroom, I told the
guy I was going back to our room for some sleep.
When I stepped outside, I heard him lock the
door behind me. I stepped to the windows, peeked
through the blinds I had left partially opened,
and waited to see what would happen.
My wife came out of the bathroom and asked the
man where I went. He told her I went for ice and
that she should wait there for my return. Then
he stepped up to her and kissed her hard on the
lips. At the same time, he swiftly unzipped her
sexy sundress all the way down her front. She
started to pull away, and as she did, he grabbed
at her bra strap and ripped the cup off her left
tit. Then he shoved her down on the bed and
began to suck her naked tit. As she struggled
under him, he somehow managed to open up her
dress and began to pull her panties down.
At this point, she really began to put up a
fight, and I almost went to the door, but
something inside of me stopped me. I couldn't
pull myself away from watching the whole
incredible, arousing, hot scene. My wife -
fucking around with a stranger! And I had a
front-row seat!
The guy rolled my wife over onto her stomach,
pulled her dress down off her other shoulder and
unhooked her bra. After he slid her panties off
her long legs, he dropped his pants and shorts
and climbed on the bed, too.
My wife was still trying to fend him off, but it
looked like she had lost a lot of her fight.
After struggling with my wife a little more and
holding her hands to the bed, above her head,
the guy finally got between her legs and got his
good-sized cock in her and rammed it into her to
the hilt.
I suddenly realized that I had one of the
hardest and biggest erections in my life! I was
really enjoying watching this!
The guy continued to fuck my wife for at least
another ten minutes, until he came inside her
with a big grunt. He finally climbed off her and
walked into the bathroom and cleaned his cock.
My wife laid there, on the bed, gasping and
panting, her legs spread wide apart, her hands
still above her head.
When the guy walked back into the bedroom, he
made another drink and walked over to the bed.
As he stood there, looking down at my wife, she
raised herself up on her elbow, took hold of his
soft prick in her hand, and gently guided it
into her mouth!
She began to suck him off, first slowly, and
then more and more wildly. She sucked him for
about five minutes, until he pulled away with
another huge erection.
He then climbed back on the bed, and I watched
as my wife guided his hard cock up her already-
filled cunt.
While they were screwing, I heard the couple
who's room it was coming up the steps. I ducked
around the corner to get out of sight and was
surprised to see that the drapes on the sliding
door on the beach side were wide open. I stepped
into the shadows to watch from my new front-row
seat.
The first guy and my wife didn't stop screwing
when the couple opened the door. The wife said
she didn't like what was going on in their room
and her husband told her to go back down to the
diner ("In case it gets ugly," he said) and he
would get rid of the screwing couple.
The wife was barely out the door, when the
second guy stripped off his clothes and got on
the bed. He immediately began sucking my wife's
big tits, and then soon slid up to where he
could press his erect cock against my wife's
lips. The slut didn't hesitate an instant. She
sucked him deep into her mouth! I watched her
take both of these studs on at once!
The first guy finally had his second orgasm in
her pussy and rolled off her. The second husband
immediately slid into position and began
pounding away in my wife's noisy-wet cunt. He
only took a few minutes to cum, and after he was
finished, the two men laid there, totally
exhausted.
To my shock and amazement, my wife got up and
paraded around the room totally naked. After she
tossed down a shot of booze like a pro, she
asked if either of the guys was ready to go
again. They both moaned and said they were
spent.
As she bent to pick up her clothes, I raced back
to our room, undressed, and slid under the
covers pretending to be asleep. She came in soon
after me, quickly showered and got in bed with
me, falling asleep almost immediately.
The following morning she asked me where the
hell I went the night before. I said I had told
the other guy I was going back to our room and
that she could follow or stay and party if she
wanted to. I bugged her about what happened, but
she never said a word about it! She said they
just sat around talking and drinking.
After seeing the way she acted like a true,
cheap, low-bred, slut-tramp whore in that motel
room, I again approached her about swinging.
Much to my surprise, she still refused. I
couldn't figure what her problem was.
I had watched her be a real whore for two
strangers, and knew she had fucked and sucked
another guy's balls dry, so why wouldn't she
agree to a little friendly swapping?
We argued about it a little more, but I soon let
it drop.
Instead, I realized how much fun I was having
manipulating her into different situations and
watching her whore for other men. I began to
keep a notebook with dates and times, places and
names (where I knew them), and how I had set up
the situation. Over the past five years, I have
set up thirty-two different arrangements that
have resulted in at least ninety-eight different
men enjoying my wife's raunchy sexual talents.
Each one of the arrangements was a different set
of circumstances, and I'm proud of my ability at
inventing them.
There have been some great scenes!
One night, I gave a guy I met in a bar my
address and set it up that he and three friends
would burgle my house, so I could make an
insurance claim on an old TV.
He asked if anyone would be home, and I said,
"You should be so lucky - my wife is the easiest
piece of ass in the world!" And she was. Two of
the burglars held her down for her first fuck,
but after that, she fucked and sucked all four
of them dry. And I watched the whole thing from
our bedroom window!
She fucked and sucked guys everywhere! In motel
rooms, on a pool table in the back of a bar, in
bar and mall parking lots, a weekend in a
mountain cabin with five guys, and even in a
Frat house full of drunk, horny young studs
after the Homecoming Game!
The best and the worst time was when I took her
to the Big Stampede and Rodeo in Calgary,
Canada. On the last day, as we were strolling
around the horse barn area, I told a group of
dirty, sweaty cowpokes that the woman walking
along behind me in the short yellow dress was an
expensive, cockteasing hooker with a real
"BITCH" attitude and if they wanted some fun,
they should try her out in the barn. They were
drunk and horny and stupid enough to try
anything and I quickly climbed up into the loft
as they waited for the hooker in the short
yellow dress.
They started talking to my wife as she walked by
and when she shook her head at their rude and
lewd propositions and tried to leave, the
cowboys grabbed her and dragged her into the
back of the barn. She yelled and fought a
little, but they threw her on a bunch of dirty
blankets and ripped her clothes off her and I
watched - for the next hour - while what seemed
like every cowboy in Canada took his turn in her
mouth, cunt and ass. When they finally finished
with her, they left her bare-assed naked,
covered with cum, sweat, dirt, beer and booze. I
watched as she stood on wobbly legs and stumbled
to the open door. When another group of cowboys
from across the way saw her standing there
naked, they ran over and carried her off into
another barn.
By the time I got down from the loft, she was no
where to be seen. I searched till I finally left
the area and returned later, looking for her. I
checked and rechecked the motel room and looked
in all the bars, too.
I even reported her missing to the security
people, but they weren't worried, telling me she
just got lost in the crowd. Of course, I knew,
but couldn't tell them, that the last time I saw
her she was naked as a baby in the barn area
with all those horny cowboys!
Finally, at about four in the morning, I heard
the motel room door open. I pretended to be
asleep as she and some man stepped inside. I
heard her thank him for the blanket and the ride
home as she handed him the cloth. He grabbed her
big tits and said he wanted to fuck her again.
My wife shushed him to be quiet and she laid
down on the floor. The guy dropped his pants and
fucked her hard, right there, in the room with
her husband! He left, and she crawled into the
other bed and immediately fell asleep. She was
so exhausted, she didn't even stir when I
removed the sheet and looked at her body covered
with dirt, stale booze, cum, and love marks.
Believe it or not, she still never mentioned any
of these events to me. The next day, she told me
she had lost her purse and spent all that time
she was gone looking for it and waiting for it
to show up at the "lost and found" booth. What
bullshit! I guess I never will know how many
cowboys screwed her that day!
Anyway, I love what I've worked out. I wish I
could watch her fuck and suck ten different guys
every night of the year!
In five years, the only scene I arranged that
she balked at was when I tried to set up a party
at a nearby Army base. I wanted to see just how
many men she could screw at one time, without
stopping. Some GI I met in a bar was going to
get us into one of the barracks and just let the
guys line up until she couldn't take any more,
or there were no guys left. I told the GI that I
was bringing a real, live nymphomaniac, and that
there was no limit to the number of cocks she
could handle. He said that he could easily
guarantee fifty guys, probably more.
I guess she got wind of the fact that the
"party" was going to be an all-night gang-bang,
and I could never set it up with her.
I still enjoy setting up situations for guys to
screw my wife, but I don't think she wants any
more out- of-control mass sex encounters - like
the rodeo - so I try to limit the number of men
to four or five, or less.
With all this sex she has participated in, she
has never once mentioned any of it to me. But, I
think she probably knows that I'm responsible
for all or most of it (or, at least, that I know
and cooperate). I don't know if she knows I love
watching it, but from watching her in action, I
know she's a cheap slut who damn well loves
every second of it!
--- signed "Master Match Maker"
What an outrageous tale!
I just sat there on the bed, and let my breathing calm down.
I wasn't sure exactly which parts had turned me on. Maybe it
was the forbidden sex, or being taken, or even the gang-bangs (all are
deep, forbidden, *NASTY* thoughts for a "nice" woman like me to
think). It certainly wasn't the author. I thought he was a creep and
an asshole, who couldn't even personalize "his wife" with a name in
his long letter. I couldn't figure why the wife wouldn't mention
anything to her husband, except that maybe he was such a creep and she
didn't care if he knew or not, or she didn't want to give him the
satisfaction that she knew they were his games.
Then I began thinking about finding the letter hidden away in
Phil's drawer. Were the letter and the photos a strong and recurring
fantasy for Phil? Did he want to see me take on groups of strangers?
Bizarre, and not like Phil at all, but what else was I to think?
Then I wondered... Had Phil ever tried to set up an
"arrangement" and I didn't realize it at the time?
I sat there thinking about that, and one time I could remember
was about 18 months ago when Phil was hosting a poker night. All his
poker buddies were at the house when he called from the office and
said he would be very late, but that they should stay, play cards, and
eat the food - which they did. I retired to the bedroom and read a
novel for the night. Phil showed up about an hour after he called and
played cards with his friends. I couldn't remember if he tried to pump
me for information about what had happened before he got home, but not
having read the letter, I would have never made the connection.
Then another time came to mind. Not long after we were
married, Phil and I went on a fishing trip and I was the only woman.
We drove down in the afternoon and stayed in a motel overnight, going
out on the boat before dawn, the next day. Phil and I had dinner and,
later, drinks that night with four other fishermen in our motel room.
And there were other times that now, in light of the letter I
just read, seemed suspicious. A big company picnic where Phil just
disappeared for an hour or so, a night at a bar after a softball game,
when Phil went out to the car to sleep - even on our honeymoon! How
long had Phil had the letter?
I really began to wonder.
I began to read the letter, again. And, this time, I found
myself lowering the zipper on my jeans and letting my hand move under
my panties, until my fingers found my already-hard and wet clit. I
gently stroked and squeezed the little nub as I read the letter over
and over, until, in a great rush, I had a long and wonderful orgasm.
After I composed myself, I carefully replaced the pages and
photos just as I had found them in Phil's drawer and decided I would
act like I had never found the letter and photos. If my husband wanted
to have a little secret, he certainly deserved some privacy about it.
And then I realized something. I had used the letter to turn
me on and help me reach an orgasm, just as I'm sure Phil had used it
in the past. Now, we had both masturbated reading the same thing. That
letter was a turn-on for both of us!
Life resumed its regular rhythms, and nothing out of the
ordinary occurred. Occasionally, I'd check Phil's drawer and I could
tell the pictures and the letters had been handled, but I never saw
Phil anywhere near them.
From: rdragon@ix.netcom.com(***)
Newsgroups: alt.sex.stories
Subject: Hot Wish (FM+, slut) [2/2]
Date: 4 Oct 1996 01:47:12 GMT
Hot Wish
Giving Him What He Wants
Another Hot Wife Tale
by
J. Boswell
Part Two
The following winter I received notice of my 15th high school
reunion to be held that spring.
My family had moved halfway across the country one week after
my graduation and I hadn't seen any of my high school friends in those
fifteen years. I hadn't been the most popular girl in high school (I
had been a little too "pudgy" - too "husky" for that), but I had had a
lot of friends and been active in several groups and clubs, and was
anxious to see some old friends.
Because of finances, I had missed my tenth reunion and
regretted it. Fortunately, money wasn't a problem this time, and Phil
readily agreed to go with me. My mom and dad agreed to watch Bobby for
the long weekend.
I quickly filled out the "what-have-you-been-up-to?"
questionnaire and paid for our tickets. I knew it wouldn't be as big a
reunion as the tenth or twentieth, but I was looking forward to going,
anyway. My home town was fairly small, and I hoped most of the people
I remembered would still be there.
I began to check myself out in the mirror often. I knew I was
in pretty good shape - much better shape than I had been in during
high school - but I upped my cycling and aerobics routines to firm up
and slim down as much as I could. Phil noticed and approved.
A couple of weeks before the reunion, Phil and I were sitting
up, reading in bed. Out of the blue, Phil asked me if I was ready to
see some of the guys I had dated in high school.
I said, "sure."
"Did you date a lot in high school, Janice?" he asked.
"No, not a lot. You have to remember, in high school I was
still in my chubby phase. I was Marge Pearson's chubby daughter. It
wasn't until college when I got away from my mother's cooking and
discovered swimming that I slimmed down and firmed up."
"Ah... So it was in college you dated a lot."
"I sure did, honey. I had a lot of lonely Saturday nights to
make up for. *AND*, I was a cheerleader - I had a responsibility to my
public." I was trying to keep the conversation light and fun. In fact,
I had been a little on the wild side in college. I had dated a lot of
the jocks, sometimes two or three at a time, nothing kinky, but often
one on each night of the weekend. I settled down in grad school and
met Phil there, but college had been fun - no doubt about that.
"So, it's true, what we non-athletes think about cheerleaders
and football players?"
Obviously, my high school reunion was forgotten, and Phil
wanted to hear about my cheerleading days. I closed my book,
chuckling, "Well, let's just say I dated a football player or two. I
knew it was part of my job description. What exactly did you non-
athletes think about us? I'm sure it was perverted!"
"Well, those of us in the accounting club often discussed the
rumors of wild sex orgies in the locker rooms after games. And how
the cheerleaders would do *ANYTHING* to boost team morale."
"You accountants-to-be were one hundred percent right. That's
exactly what went on."
Phil froze, and then his head spun to look at me. "Really?
Are you serious, Janice?" he asked anxiously.
My smile broke into a laugh, "No! Of course I'm not being
serious, honey. What do you think I am - or was? If anything like that
went on, I didn't hear about it. Just the thought of the locker room -
those dirty, sweaty bodies after a game - UGH! Can you imagine the
smell?"
I pinched my nose closed and shook my head.
"I'm very sorry to shatter your male fantasies about us slutty
cheerleaders - we were just your normal, everyday beauties worried
about dates and homework and pimples, just like everyone else."
Phil was laughing with me, "well, you slutty cheerleaders and
your wild orgies were a lot more fun to talk about at our accounting
club meetings than balance sheets and number-2 pencils!"
A few minutes later, Phil quietly asked, "Are there any old
flames in particular you're looking forward to seeing at the reunion,
Janice?"
I took Phil's hand and held it in mine, "Honey, I'm looking
forward to seeing everybody. I didn't date the hunks I had crushes on.
I'm not trying to cop-out on you, but there isn't anyone I dated, in
high school *OR* college, I still have any `special' feelings for. I
saved all my special feelings for you." I gently moved his hand under
the deep V-neck of my nightie and placed it on my bare breast.
Phil was always good at getting my hints, and it was quite a
while before we got to sleep that night.
* * *
On Saturday, several days after our "locker room orgy"
conversation, I was in Bobby's room when the phone rang. Phil was in
the bathroom, so I answered it. It was one of his golf buddies. When
Phil came out to get the phone, I went into our bathroom to collect
the towels for the laundry.
I picked up the towel on the floor next to the throne and
lying there was a full-page photo and the two-page letter. The photo
captured a magic moment in a pretty blonde girl's life when she had
three cocks (two white and a gigantic black cock) buried up her pussy,
in her ass, and down her throat. I was surprised, to say the least.
Had the phone call caught Phil masturbating?
I quickly replaced the towel and walked out of the bathroom.
I acted like I hadn't seen a thing. But I had, and it made me think
about that damned letter and Phil's secret fantasies again.
* * *
June finally arrived and Phil and I flew out to Seattle. It
was a long ride in the rental car from the airport to my home town,
and I could feel my excitement rise with each mile. Even though it
was late in the evening and we were tired from the flight and the long
ride, Phil indulged me and drove around the town for me.
I was thrilled to see that the town had changed so little in
the fifteen years since I had lived there. I pointed out all the
"landmarks" to Phil, as we drove from my old house, past the school
and old hang-outs. He was such a Dear, he acted interested and refused
to yawn as I filled him in on the minutiae of my pre- and pubescent
life. Finally, on the other side of town, where the drive-in movie
used to be, we checked into our hotel room and got some sleep. It was
going to be a busy weekend.
The reunion committee had scheduled a luncheon at the hotel on
Saturday, the big dance and party at the high school on Saturday
night, and a gourmet (catered, of course) breakfast on Sunday morning
in the high school cafeteria; and we were attending all of them.
Everything was wonderful. It was so great seeing so many old
friends and we talked like there hadn't been fifteen years since our
last conversation. I'll admit I really enjoyed the stares and looks my
"new" body caused, and I was a whole lot more popular at the dance
than I had ever been at a dance while in high school. And through it
all, Phil was a perfect angel - as gracious and as friendly as can be.
But the reason I'm writing all this down is - the most
outrageous event took place on that Sunday.
* * *
About halfway through the breakfast, I excused myself to
literally and figuratively "go to the little girls' room." Feeling
nostalgic, I wandered out the door from the rest room to the girls'
locker room instead of the door back out to the hall. With classes
over for the school year, the lockers were empty and the room had been
scrubbed clean. I tried to find my old locker from my Senior year, but
they all looked alike to me now.
I soon discovered I wasn't the only one waxing nostalgic.
Through the vents high up in the wall, I could hear voices from the
boys' locker room. I walked closer to the wall to listen and smelled
cigar smoke through the vent. It was two or three guys and they were
talking about their football days. How typical.
I turned to leave, and was surprised by a rack full of brand
new cheerleader uniforms! They were beautiful! Apparently, the school
had just sprung for new uniforms for the squad, and since school was
closed for the Summer, they were just hanging there until tryouts in
August.
I had thoroughly enjoyed my years as a cheerleader in college.
It had been extremely difficult to make the squad, because I hadn't
already been one in high school, like all the other girls. But in high
school, I was plump and too roly-poly to even think about trying out
for cheerleader - and I always regretted that fact.
On an impulse, I grabbed an outfit that looked close to my
size and sat on a bench, in front of a locker. Here was my chance to
finally wear my high school colors! The uniform was sparkling white
with the school's name emblazoned across the front in blue and gold.
What the hell! Who would ever know? I'd put it right back on
the rack afterwards.
I stood up and unzipped my dress down the back. Next came my
slip. I quickly unwrapped the uniform, pulled the top over my head and
shimmied the too-tight skirt up my legs and over my hips.
I walked over to the big mirror to take a look at myself and
laughed at the sight. The uniform was too small and too short.
The skirt was so short I could see my stocking tops, so I
rolled my stockings off and stepped back into my high heels. Now, when
I looked in the mirror, I saw that the tight top stretched across my
big boobs, the short skirt with only tiny panties on under it, and the
black high heels perverted the uniform into something erotic, rather
than innocent. But wasn't that the trademark of the best cheerleader
outfits, like the Dallas Cowboys' squad?
* * *
At that precise moment I heard two things that caused me to
change my life drastically.
At almost the same time, I heard the ex-jocks in the boys'
locker room burst into a loud laugh, and I heard Phil, somewhere in
the halls outside, call my name.
I stood there, looking at myself in the mirror, seeing a boy's
wet-dream image of a cheerleader. Then, in a flash of images, one
after the other... I thought about Phil's secret drawer and the
"Editor's Choice" letter... all his photos of the blondes having sex
with groups of men... the men in the next room... my "new" body...
nasty, raunchy sex... Phil watching his wife... Phil seeing his
"Accounting Club fantasies" being acted out before his eyes... safe
sex... being naughty... doing something so totally bizarre compared to
the rest of my stable and quiet life... maybe even showing a few of my
old classmates what they missed fifteen years ago...
I stopped thinking. I didn't want my thoughts getting in the
way of what I was doing. I was just going to let things happen.
I took a deep breath and then walked out of the girls' locker
room. The hall was empty, but I heard Phil call my name again - a lot
closer, this time.
I hesitated for a second and then pushed open the door to the
boys' locker room. The door "ssshhhhh'd" close behind me as I looked
around. The room was much larger than the girls' locker room and
definitely had a much stronger sweat smell - only instead of making me
wrinkle my nose in disgust, it actually turned me on a little more.
Maybe that little talk with Phil in bed had helped.
I stepped deeper into the room and looked down the next row of
lockers - no one was in sight, but the smell of cigar was getting
stronger, and the voices louder. Finally, as I peeked around the next
row, I saw the source.
Three men were sitting on the benches, leaning up against the
lockers, and passing around a half-full bottle of "Jack Black".
Bob Anderson, Otis Parker, and Jamie Syzmanski - all heroes
from our football team's "Glory Days" of State Championships.
Bob had been the running back, and was now running his
father's Chevy/Nissan/GMC dealership in town. He had been the most
coveted hunk in my high school years, and he was even better looking
now - still built and with a full head of salt-and- pepper hair. Otis
had been the all-star center. He was huge and Black. I think someone
said he was a guard at the State penitentiary. Jamie had been another
lineman and was just as big as Otis. He had turned his father's bar
into the town's most popular restaurant and lounge.
I had stopped thinking earlier, I was running on impulse
alone. I stepped out into the center of the row and smiled at the
three men, "Hello, boys. Reliving some past glories?"
The looks on their frozen faces were wonderful! They were
shocked and surprised, and obviously liked what they saw.
Jamie spoke first, "Janice? Janice Pearson?"
I smiled and nodded, "Well, it's Janice Vallegia now, but who
cares?" Feeling like a total VAMP, I walked up to Bob and took the
sour mash from his hand and belted down a healthy swig - - no sense
being the only sober one in the room. "You football studs in need of a
cheerleader?"
They all started blubbering at once - (Was that the locker
room door I heard opening and closing?) - about how sexy I looked, how
great my body was, how much they all enjoyed seeing me again, how I
could cheerlead for them anytime. On and on, until Bob cut through the
shit and pulled me down on to his lap and mashed his mouth on mine,
pushing his tongue down my throat.
As I returned his kiss, I heard Jamie, "Ahem, Otis, my man, I
guess these two would like to `reminisce' alone."
I held up my hand and broke away from Bob's mouth long enough
to say, "No need for anyone to leave, if that's all right with you
gentlemen."
BBRRIIINNNGGG!!! And we were off to the races!
Those three guys proved that there was a lot to be said for
teamwork! In under a minute, I was being gang-banged and loving it far
more than I imagined I would!
* * *
Bob resumed kissing me as his hands found their way up under
my top. He pulled my bra cups off my breasts and I moaned into his
mouth when his two hands gently covered and squeezed my tits.
We broke apart for a moment while I shed my top and bra and
laid back down on the bench - not very comfortable, but it would do!
Bob knelt beside me and tweaked my hard nipple with one hand
as he filled his mouth with my other nipple.
Meanwhile, Otis flipped my skirt up and I lifted my hips off
the bench, to help him strip my panties off. He dropped his own pants
and underwear and straddled the bench. He smiled at me as he looked
down on my naked pussy, then he spit in his palm and rubbed it on the
head of his dark, and almost-purple, cock.
"Mmmmm, mmmmm, mmmmm! You gonna like this, Janice. I been
savin' it up for you all these years."
I smiled up at him and said, "Then don't make me wait any
longer for it, Otis."
He didn't. He knelt on the narrow bench, between my spread
legs, and lowered himself down onto and into me. I was so anxious to
be fucked, so hot to be screwed, I half-cried, half- moaned as I felt
his warm meat penetrate me. Deeper and deeper, until his huge body was
pressing on top of me, fucking me with everything he had.
I turned to Jamie and motioned him closer with my hand. As He
stood next to my head, I reached up and pulled his zipper down.
Finally getting the hint, he unfastened his pants and dropped them and
his underwear. His hardening cock fit perfectly in my mouth.
At that moment, at the same time I was trying to concentrate
on what I was doing to these guys - and what they were doing to me! -
I had a sort of out-of-body experience. At my very wildest in college,
I had never made love to more that one man at a time. Now, there were
three sex-hungry men having their way with me in my old high school's
boys' locker room! To say I was shocked at what I was doing would be
an incredible understatement. And then I wondered if I really had
heard the door open and close, and Phil was watching his wife behave
like the sluttiest cheerleader ever born! Was this really his fantasy?
Or, I began to wonder, was it mine?
Otis came with a loud grunt and a hard shove and moved off me.
Immediately, Bob left my breasts and moved to take his place. I had
already cum while Otis was fucking me, and never being all that
multi-orgasmic, was delightfully surprised to begin my next orgasm as
Bob pushed his prick up my slippery pussy and Otis began to play with
my tits.
Trying to breathe through my nose and around Jamie's cock as I
came wasn't all that easy, and he made it more difficult as he started
to shoot a river of cum down my throat. I kept up with him and could
feel only a little spill out of my mouth and onto my chin.
He pulled his meat from my still-sucking mouth and said, "That
was great!"
Otis moved into position, "Yeah? Let me be the judge."
I grasped his warm and sticky cock and guided it into my mouth
as I caressed his very large balls.
Bill continued to pound away in me and I was impressed with
his stamina. Otis was erect and stretching my lips as I sucked him in
and out. Jamie eventually reached around and between his friends to
play with my tits, and I began to cum all over again. This was the
most fantastic sex I had ever had!
Bill came, followed by Otis. I asked Jamie if he wanted his
chance to fuck me, and he took his turn, too. I don't know how long
the whole episode had taken, but it seemed like it was over in a
flash. When I finally gathered my wits, I looked around for my bra and
panties.
Bill and Otis were sharing the "Jack Daniels" again and
giggled. Otis laughed and waved at the room full of lockers, "Janice,
while you and my man Jamie we so occupied, I stuffed your pretty
little lace things in two lockers - I figured I'd give some little
freshman a real thrill on his first day of P.E. in September. I guess
I can help you find them."
"No, forget them, Otis. I better get out of here. Am I the
only one here married?"
"Hell, no," laughed Jamie, "our wives know all we do when the
three of us get together is talk football, so they decided not to
come."
I grabbed the cheerleader uniform and started towards the
door, "Well, boys, it's been great. See you next reunion."
"Oh, Janice, please don't make us wait THAT long for our next
fun time."
"I left my name and address with the committee, Bill. Call me
if any of you ever get to Baltimore. Bye!"
I held the clothes up in front of me, but didn't take the time
to put them on. I peeked out into the hall, saw it was clear and made
a mad dash back to the girls' locker room. I rolled on my stockings
and zipped up my dress in record time. As much as I wanted to keep the
uniform, I didn't want to steal it from the school, and I didn't have
any place to hide it; so, I put it back on the hangers and under the
plastic.
* * *
When I walked back into the cafeteria on wobbly legs, the
crowd had pretty much thinned out. Phil was sitting alone at the
table, where I had left him.
When he saw me approach, he smiled and asked, "And where have
you been?"
I'm sure I blushed as I smiled back, "Well, I went to the
ladies' room and ran into some old classmates."
"Were you gabbing all that time?"
I shrugged, "You know how it is when old friends get
together." At the same time I was studying my husband's pleasant face,
wondering if he spent the whole time waiting for me at the table.
We made our rounds, saying goodbye and promising to stay in
touch. I was sorry the reunion was over and that I was leaving old
friends again, but it had certainly been the weekend of my life.
We were almost out the door, when Connie DeLong waved at us,
"Bye, you two! I didn't even know you were still here! Where did you
two disappear to all morning?"
I quickly glanced at Phil. He was looking straight at Connie
but was blushing as much as I felt I was - and then I knew. I wonder
what Connie would have thought if we both told her where we had been
that morning!
That was the first time. It got a lot easier after that!
Phil's happy, I'm happy, and the men I meet are very happy!