Archive-name: 3plus/hotwish2.txt

Archive-author: J. Boswell

Archive-title: Giving Him What He Wants - 2





                    (Another Hot Wife Tale)



     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!



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