YPA: Your Privacy Assured/YPA.ISO/text/hotwish2.sty

Text File | 1995-02-08 | 22KB | 392 lines

HOTWISH2.TXT
                    GIVING HIM WHAT HE WANTS
                           PART TWO

                    (Another Hot Wife Tale)

                         by J. Boswell

     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 up'ed 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 phonecall 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 alright
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!

............................
(c) J. BOSWELL, January 1993
                ╔═══════════════════════════╗
                ║ ╔═══════════════════════╗ ║
                ║ ║  Only the very best   ║ ║
                ║ ║        EROTICA        ║ ║
                ║ ║from the collection of ║ ║
                ║ ║      J. BOSWELL       ║ ║
                ║ ╚═══════════════════════╝ ║
                ╚═══════════════════════════╝

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