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Gorgeous cheeleaders wearing no panties

9/22/1999

It was a typical Thursday afternoon for eighteen-year-old Jamie Reynolds
and her best friend Tori Shaw. With cheerleader practice finished, they
were seated in their usual spots in Jamie's kitchen, their books and
papers spread across the wooden tabletop as the faint hum of the stereo
cranked out the latest tunes. "I love this song," Tori said, wiggling to
the music as she scratched away at her algebra homework.

Jamie hadn't heard a single song since they sat down. She had bigger
problems. "I just can't believe it," she said, staring at the sheet of
paper in her hand.

"You've been staring at that stupid test since we got home," Tori
groaned. "Get over it already. Everybody gets a `D' sometimes."

"A 'D' Minus! I can't afford anything less than a `B' in this class or
my chances for a scholarship are ruined. Help me with this Tori -- what
am I going to do?"

Tori thought for a minute. "Well, the simple answer is cram like crazy
and do well on the next test. You weren't doing that bad before, were
you? How much can one lousy grade hurt?"

"It can hurt a lot. Now I pretty much have to ace the next test, not to
mention the one after that."

"Bummer . . . " Tori said. "What class is it, anyway?"

"Health and Modern Living."

Tori's eyes lit up. "Wait a minute -- Health and Modern Living. Isn't
that the class the football coach teaches?"

"Yeah -- so what?"

Tori grinned and leaned forward in her chair. "The football coach who
can't take his eyes off you?"

"Oh, he stares at all the cheerleaders."

"He doesn't stare at all the cheerleaders the way he stares at you.
There's lust in them there eyes, girl."

"Yeah, right Tori . . . he's like thirty years old. Besides, I don't
want to talk about that right now. I need to figure out what I'm going
to do about this test."

"Well, that's what I'm trying to tell you. The answer is right in front
of your face."

"How so?"

"Well, you need to ace the next test, right -- and the one after that?
What better way to do it than to get a hold of the correct answers
before exam day . . . or better yet, just make sure any wrong answers
get changed to right ones when the test gets graded."

"And like how am I going to do that?"

"Well, Coach Andrews could change them for you . . . or give you the
answers ahead of time," Tori said with a grin.

"Sure . . . I'll just mention it to him the next time we see each other.
Hey Coach! Don't forget to fix my grades! C'mon Tori, this is serious."

"You're not getting it," Tori said in a frustrated voice. "He's got
something you want . . . and you've obviously got something he wants . .
. maybe you two can work out a trade."

Jamie paused as the meaning of Tori's suggestion finally registered. "Oh
my God, no WAY! There's no way I'm going to *do* it with him just to get
a grade on a stupid test!"

"Take it easy . . . nobody said you had to *do* it with him."

"Well that's what you're implying."

"I'm not implying any such thing," Tori said. "Look, all I'm saying is
he obviously wants you -- figure out a way to use it to your advantage,
that's all. He's quite the cutie, Jamie. I'd think it about it if I were
you."

"No way, I'm not doing it," Jamie said, standing up from the table and
pacing the kitchen.

"Fine, if you feel that strongly about it."

Tori returned to her Algebra problem as Jamie leaned against the kitchen
sink considering her friend's suggestion. She needed that scholarship,
but how far was she willing to go to get it? Granted, the fact that it
was the coach they were talking about did count for something. For one
thing, he looked more like an athlete than a teacher, standing over six
feet tall with a killer body that had clearly seen more than a few hours
in the weight room. She smiled to herself thinking about all those
afternoons that she and the other cheerleaders ogled over his muscular
little butt as he led the football team through their drills. Still, as
cute as he was, she wasn't sure a grade was worth compromising her
morals.

"Tori, what would you do if you were me?"

"What do you mean?" Tori asked without looking up from her homework.

"You know . . . if you thought you could guarantee a scholarship just by
fooling around with a teacher . . . would you do it?"

Tori looked up with a lustful grin. "Honey, if we're talking about the
coach . . . well, there's no telling what I would and wouldn't do, but
that's me. You need to do what you're comfortable with, you know?"

Jamie thought about it. Tori was a lot more daring than she was, so in
truth, her suggestion wasn't a total shocker. But still . . .

"Well, even if I did want to do *something* along those lines," Jamie
said, "and I don't know what that something is -- I wouldn't know where
to begin."

Tori sat down her pencil softly and smiled from ear to ear. "Well now .
. . that's where I can help."

~~:~~:~~

The girls arrived at school the following day about a half-hour earlier
than usual. Five minutes before the sound of the bell they put their
plan into action, beginning with a rendezvous in the girl's bathroom.
Jamie made some last minute touches to her makeup as Tori scanned the
stalls to ensure they were alone.

"Ok, nobody's here," Tori said.

Jamie took a deep breath. "I'm not sure I can go through with this."

"You can go through with it. Just remember it's all in the name of your
scholarship. Now, off with them."

Jamie let out a deep sigh, made one last glance at the door, and lifted
her red and white cheerleader skirt. She slid her panties down her
thighs and worked them around her tennis shoes before standing up and
handing them over. Tori stuffed the panties in her purse and gave her
friend a once-over to make sure it wasn't obvious that she was
bottomless under the short skirt.

"Are you sure you can't see anything?" Jamie asked, looking at her
backside in the mirror.

"No, you can't even tell," Tori smiled. "Now all you have to do is make
sure a strong wind doesn't come up or you'll have every guy in school
following you around like a lap dog. You ready?"

Jamie smiled nervously. "I guess . . . ready as I'll ever be."

They walked the almost-empty halls towards the classroom. Just as they
reached the door, Jamie turned quickly. "Forget it. I can't do this."

Tori grabbed her by the shoulders and stared into her eyes. "Yes -- yes
you *can* do this. Scholarship, Jamie -- think scholarship."

"I feel like I'm naked right now," Jamie said, fanning her face as she
heated up with embarrassment.

"Just remember to hold down your skirt as you take your seat and you'll
be fine."

"This better work, that's all I've got to say."

"It will," Tori said with a mischievous grin. "Just do it like we talked
about."

Jamie opened the door and entered the classroom. She scanned the
students until she spotted Lyle the class geek seated in his usual spot
in the front row. Great, he was there; now all she needed to do was
convince him to help her with her plan. She stepped up and cleared her
throat.

"Uh hum . . . hi Lyle."

His coke-bottle thick glasses tilted up slightly from his book. His eyes
started at her tennis shoes, roaming up her skirt and over her breasts
until he stared up at her with wrinkled eyebrows. "Are you talking to
me?" he asked skeptically.

"Yes . . . your name is Lyle isn't it?"

"Yeah, I'm Lyle," he said, pushing his glasses up with his index finger.

"I'm Jamie," she said, reaching out her hand.

"Yeah, Jamie . . . I know who you are. Everybody knows who you are."

"Ahhh, that's sweet," she said, putting on her sincerest smile. "Lyle, I
was wondering if you could do me a favor?"

"Uh, yeah -- I mean I'll try . . . "

"Well, I left my contacts at home this morning and now I have to use my
old prescription. I was wondering if you could swap seats with me so I
can see the board. It would only be for today. My normal seat is right
back there." She pointed to an empty desk several rows back.

"Yeah, I guess I could, if Coach Andrews doesn't mind."

"He won't mind," Jamie smiled.

She waited as Lyle clumsily gathered his papers to his chest and moved
to the desk several rows back. As she took a seat in the front row, she
felt her heart start to beat faster as the short cheerleader skirt rose
up her thighs. She'd worn that skirt a thousand times before and didn't
mind the extra leg that it showed. But now, without panties, it felt
like she was absolutely naked. She crossed her legs as tight as she
could and pulled down on the short skirt.

As she waited for the coach to arrive, she scanned the area in front of
her desk. It was a typical classroom setup, with dishwater gray linoleum
floors, a large dry-erase board, and a wooden teacher's desk set off to
the side. On the right-hand wall was a long table with a series of
plastic anatomy models, each depicting some part of the human body.

She looked around the room, trying to imagine how it all would work.
He'll have to be standing next to the white board just to see under my
desk, she thought to herself. Even then, I'll practically have to do a
spread eagle just to get him to notice. That won't work. He's almost
never writing on the board. If he stares too long somebody will figure
out what's happening. She looked over her shoulder. It might work better
at her old desk -- at least then it wouldn't be so obvious. She turned
again and tried to get Lyle's attention to tell him she had changed her
mind when the door opened and the coach walked in. Too late.

It was the middle of summer and he had on his usual casual outfit of
moderately loose running shorts, a tee-shirt that clung to his broad
muscular chest, and a deep tan that was realized from spending his
afternoons leading the football practice. He did a double take as he
noticed Jamie sitting in the front row. As he moved to the teacher's
desk and sat down his backpack, she felt him stealing glances at the
view afforded by her short skirt.

"That's not your usual spot, is it?" the coach asked, pulling his lesson
materials out and laying them on the desk.

"No, I forgot my contacts today," Jamie said. "I can see things better
from up here."

So can you, she smiled to herself.

Suddenly she heard Lyle's nasally voice coming from the back of the
room. "Coach, I asked her if it was okay if she sat up there!" he
yelled.

The coach looked up. "It's fine Lyle . . . it's not a problem." He
exchanged grins with Jamie and called the class to order, proceeding
with the day's lecture.

Jamie jostled in her chair and tugged downward on the short skirt as she
watched the coach pacing back and forth in front of her desk. In a way
she couldn't describe, it was like he could sense that she'd given up
her panties. There was something in the way he kept looking at her as he
talked; something in the way he kept glancing up and down her frame that
made her feel like she was being undressed, one piece of her uniform at
a time.

Actually, when she thought about it, she realized her imagination was
likely working overtime. She'd caught him looking before, in and out of
class, so why should today be any different? She knew nobody around her
could see anything, him included, yet she still felt completely naked --
like one of those nightmares where she shows up for school then suddenly
realizes she forgot to get dressed before she left the house.

Class proceeded and she was finally able to calm herself down. In fact,
she became so comfortable that her mind began to wander. My turn to
check *you* out, she thought as her eyes ran up and down the coach's
beefcake frame.

His sun-drenched legs were muscular and well proportioned, with a thin
layer of blonde body hair that she could almost *feel* rubbing up
against her as he paced back and forth. His calves were masculine and
diamond shaped like small tree trunks, neatly encased in a pair of white
ankle-high tennis socks. Her favorite body part was definitely his
chest; layered like slabs of clay across his torso, it moved and flexed
as he used his hands to emphasize his lecture -- his notably large
hands.

He paused in front of her desk and her eyes fell to the outline of his
cock that pressed against his running shorts. She smiled as visions
danced through her head of what he must look like minus the shorts. If
she could see this much of him in a relaxed state -- imagine what he
must be like when he's hard and thick with excitement. Taking a deep
breath, she shuffled in her chair, pulling again on her skirt as she
tried to quell the warmth that was building between her legs.

"So Jamie, can you name for the class the different lobes of the human
brain?" the coach said.

Her heart jumped when she heard her name. She looked up and he moved
only inches from her desk, staring down and waiting for an answer. She
sank low in her seat as she tried to focus on his question. He had a
look in his eyes like he was about to say 'never mind about the brain
Jamie -- pull up your skirt -- it's show and tell time.' Her gaze darted
past the bulge in his shorts and into his eyes. "I'm not wear . . . I
mean . . . the brain?" she stammered.

The class broke out in laughter. "Take it easy," the coach said, trying
to bring order to the students. "Yes, that's what we're talking about .
. . can you describe for the class the different lobes of the human
brain and what they control?" he repeated.

"Lobes?" she said absently. "I'm sorry . . . I was . . . daydreaming.
Can I maybe answer the next question?"

He stared down at her for what seemed like minutes until her stomach
started doing somersaults. "Alright, you're off the hook . . . this
time. Lyle -- using that model over there on the table -- come up and
point to the regions that you think control memory."

Lyle shuffled his way towards the brain model and the coach seated
himself behind his desk at the front of the room. Suddenly she realized
that the seat where the coach was sitting provided the perfect angle she
needed. This is like winning the lottery, she thought to herself.

With a deep breath, she slowly uncrossed her legs, resting her sneakers
on the floor as she adjusted her knees so they were facing his desk. She
lightly tapped her pencil against her lips as she watched out of the
corner of her eye for him to look in her direction. It took less than a
minute.

With his eyes still on her, she slowly parted her legs. Her breathing
grew heavy and a surge of adrenaline coursed through her veins as a
breeze passed up her skirt and across her now-exposed sex. Hesitantly
she glanced around herself. The student's attention was still fixed on
Lyle and his brain presentation. Without even looking she could feel the
coach's eyes crawling up her skirt as she fought the urge to close her
legs. I can do this, she thought silently. She bit her lip, focused her
attentions on Lyle's presentation, and pushed her knees further apart.

Her heart was thundering in her chest as she glanced in the coach's
direction. He was holding the papers on his desk like he was reading,
his eyes darting about, first to the students, then back up her skirt.
This was proving to be quite the unexpected turn-on. Suppressing a
nervous giggle, she took a deep breath and spread her legs another inch
or so wider; any further and somebody would surely notice what was
happening.

"Anything else?" Lyle asked from the front of the room.

Jamie pulled her legs closed and quickly tucked them under her desk. She
glanced to the coach who was still trying to recover.

"Uh, what?" he asked.

"Anything else?" Lyle repeated.

Suddenly the room felt ten degrees hotter as Jamie looked down and
shielded her face, fighting the urge to laugh. She glanced up in time to
see the coach wiping his mouth with his hand. "No, no that's all," he
stammered, seemingly out of breath. He glanced at his watch. "Ok, well
listen -- how would you guys like to call it quits early today?" A
rumble of excitement passed through the gathered students. "But stay out
of trouble. I don't want any grief for letting you out early."

Jamie wasn't expecting him to bring the class to an end so quickly and
fought the urge to follow the bustling students out the door. She took a
deep breath and packed her books as she waited for the last of the
students to leave. With her heart thundering like a runaway train, she
approached the coach's desk, not entirely certain what she was going to
say.

She waited in silence until he looked up. "Hi."

"Hi yourself," he said.

"Do you have a minute? I wanted to talk to you about the upcoming test."

She fought the urge to look away as he stared into her eyes.

"What'd you want to know, Jamie?"

"Well, I . . . "

She froze.

"Well you . . . what?" he asked, leaning forward across the desk.

"I was wondering if you could help me with some suggestions on where I
should focus my studies. I really need to do well on this next exam or
my scholarship might be in jeopardy."

A silence hung between them. "Well, the way you answered that question I
asked you earlier -- or rather the way you *didn't* answer the question
makes me wonder how hard you're studying. The answers were in the
chapters you were supposed to have read last night."

"I am studying hard," she sighed. She paused, wishing she'd chosen a
different set of words. "It's just . . . I've got so much going on right
now, what with school and cheerleader practice. I just think I might
need . . . " She paused again and took a deep breath. "I think I might
need some private tutoring."

She watched his face for some reaction but nothing came. Say something .
. . anything, she thought silently.

"Well . . . I might be able to help," he finally said. "Why don't you
stop by my office later and we can discuss it."

She took a deeper breath. "Okay . . . what time?"

"How about today after football practice -- say fivish?"

"I'll be there," she said.

Nervously she turned to leave, praying she wouldn't drop anything that
would require her to bend over.

~~:~~:~~

Tori sat across the kitchen table from Jamie, her jaw practically on the
floor. "So tell me again -- slower this time."

Jamie shifted in her chair. "Well, there's not much more to tell. I
mean, it took him a second, but you should have seen the look on his
face when he first realized I wasn't wearing anything under my skirt."

"That is *so* funny," Tori giggled. "So you're going to his office after
practice?"

Jamie's smile faded. "I don't know . . . I mean, I told him I would, but
I'm really nervous. I don't think I can go through with it."

Tori scooted her chair next to Jamie's. "Yes, you can go through with
it. Keep your uniform on and make it clear that he can look, but he
can't touch. Heck, maybe if you show him yours, he'll show you his."

Jamie giggled. "Do you think it will work -- I mean, if I'm not willing
to go all the way, do you think he'll still fix my grades?"

"Trust me on this one. If there's one thing I know, it's men and short
skirts. Hey, I'll even go with you for 'immoral' support."

"Very funny . . . I can't do it while you're sitting right there."

"I'll wait right outside his office."

"Thanks, Tori, you're the best." Jamie said, reaching across and giving
her a hug.

+++++

Finished with practice, Coach Andrews walked into his office and threw
his keys on the cluttered desk. He looked at his watch -- 5:15 p.m. In a
way he hoped she wouldn't show up.

Meeting Jamie Reynolds after hours was dangerous; actually, based on
what had seen earlier that day, it was downright stupid. Whether she
meant to expose herself to him or not was still a question in his mind,
but bottom line, she had. Now he was agreeing to meet her after hours in
a situation that could easily mean trouble, especially considering the
effect she had on him.

From the first day he saw Jamie walk into his classroom he had
fantasized about her. Everything about the young girl appealed to his
most primal urges. Her face, framed by a mane of curly blonde hair that
spilled past her shoulders, typified that fresh teenage innocence. Her
body was like that of a gymnast with medium breasts and curvaceous,
athletic thighs. Many a fantasy had been charged with images of Jamie in
compromising situations -- fantasies that were taboo to say the least.
That's what made the whole afternoon seem like such a bizarre dream. How
else could he describe the walking, talking object of so much forbidden
desire showing no interest one day, then flashing him in the middle of a
crowded classroom the next?

He glanced up at the clock. I'll give her ten minutes, he thought to
himself. If she doesn't show up, I'm outta here.

"Coach?"

His stomach lurched as he turned to see Jamie standing in the doorway,
still wearing her read and white cheerleader uniform, her backpack
strung over one shoulder.

"Jamie," he said, pretending to be surprised by her presence. "I didn't
hear you come up."

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah . . . absolutely." He motioned to the chair for her to take a
seat. Oddly, she appeared as nervous as he was.

"Is this still a good time to talk," she asked. "About the test I mean?"

"Yeah, of course, that's why I stayed late." She stepped in, then
reached back to pull the door closed behind her. He considered
suggesting they leave it open, but in a way, it seemed too late. "How
did practice go?" she asked, sitting down her backpack.

"Uh, good -- it went good." In truth, he could barely remember it. "So
what'd you want to know about the test," he asked, anxiously pushing
folders around on the desktop.

As she seated herself and crossed her legs, the coach kept his eyes
towards the papers in front of him, trying not to notice how high her
skirt was climbing up her thigh. Were the panties there . . . or not?

She brushed her hair to the side with her hand. "I was wondering if you
could help me understand what will be on the next test?"

"Possibly," he said. He opened a file drawer, pulled out a beige folder
and read the contents silently. His mouth was dry and his breathing
jagged as he tried to maintain. "Well, it's like all the tests," he said
through parched lips. "A combination of essay questions and multiple
choice covering chapters 4 through 8 -- plus the lectures."

"How many essay questions?" Jamie asked, twisting a curl of blonde hair
in her fingertips.

He let out a deep breath and tried to focus on the contents of the
folder. "Probably about five."

"Well, essay questions are what I had problems with before," she said
meekly, biting her lip.

He stared at her in silence. Something was different about her; that
much was clear. The questions she was asking were innocent enough, yet
she seemed to be hiding something -- holding back in some way. Then
again, maybe it was his imagination working overtime -- maybe he
*wanted* to read something into her actions.

"Well, I can recommend some books at the library that discuss how to
plan for and answer essay questions," he said. Her lip began to tremble
like she was searching for how to respond. "Jamie? Are you okay? You
seem . . . I don't know . . . nervous?"

"Yeah, I'm okay," she said, standing up and strapping the backpack over
one shoulder. "I'll just get the book references from you tomorrow in
class. Thanks for staying late for me." Her tone was one of almost
defeat.

"No problem," he said, still confused.

Suddenly the door opened. Another cheerleader, Tori Shaw, walked in and
pulled the door closed behind her. The coach's mind raced with rumors of
after-hours rendezvous' with gorgeous young cheerleaders. "Wait a minute
-- we were just talking about the upcoming test," he blurted. "Nothing
is going on here!"

"Tell me about it," Tori said, rolling her eyes. "Leave it up to you two
and we'll be here all night."

"What?" the coach said, clearly confused.

"Just hold on a second," Tori said, as Jamie started for the door.
"Jamie's having problems finding the right words . . . She came here
tonight because she needs help on the upcoming test."

"I know that," the coach replied. "We just talked over some suggestions
on how she could prepare."

"No, I don't think you get it . . . she needs *more* help than that. She
needs to be *certain* that she'll do well -- really well -- like an
A-plus." Tori leaned backwards against the door, allowing her words to
hang in the air. "You're the only one that can give her what she needs,
coach."

"I'm not sure I understand," he said.

"I think you understand," Tori said with a smile. She reached forward
and gently grazed Jamie's arm with the back of her fingers before
pulling at the backpack. "Sit this down," she said.

"What are you doing?" Jamie whispered.

Tori pulled the backpack from Jamie's fingers and sat it next to the
wall. "Coach, don't you think Jamie is a beautiful girl?"

He was slow to answer. "That's an odd question."

Tori looked in his direction. "Is it a difficult question? I mean, it's
flattering for a girl to know a man thinks she's pretty."

The girls looked very different, the coach thought, even they were both
head-turners, especially in their scant cheerleader uniforms. While
Jamie's blonde hair and blue eyes gave her a certain California beach
appearance, Tori had a more Latin look about her, with a dark complexion
and straight black hair that reached the small of her back.

"So do you think she's pretty?" Tori repeated.

The coach swallowed hard. "Yeah, I think she's very pretty. For that
matter, you're both very pretty, but what's your point?"

Tori smiled in his direction. "Thank you." She brushed Jamie's hair from
her face and caressed her cheek. "I think she's beautiful too," she
added as her eyes washed over Jamie's features.

Jamie took in a shuddering breath as Tori continued to caress her,
tracing her fingers down her chin and along her neck. "What *are* you
doing?" Jamie repeated in a tense whisper.

Tori smiled and pressed her finger against Jamie's lips. "Shhhh. . . .
scholarship," she whispered. "Coach?" Tori said, still focusing all her
attentions on Jamie. "It feels weird calling you that -- what's your
real name?"

He stared at her in silence, until she looked back at him, waiting for
an acknowledgement.

"Ron . . . my real name is Ron."

"Hmmm, Ron -- such a masculine name," she purred. "Ron . . . would you
like to watch me kiss Jamie?"

"Tori!" Jamie interrupted. "Not . . . you know . . . here."

Ron fought back a smile as he realized Jamie's response made clear that
it wouldn't be a first kiss. If he was uncertain before, Tori had
removed all doubt about this little game they were playing. "What if I
said yes?"

Tori giggled. "Then you'd be telling me what I already know." She placed
her hand on Jamie's cheek and turned her face towards her own. "Kiss me
. . . so he can watch," she said in a slow, raspy voice.

Jamie stood nervously as Tori grazed her lips with her own. "It's okay,"
Tori breathed, and kissed her again. Ron watched as Jamie succumbed, her
hand rising to Tori's ribs as they moved into one another. Their first
kiss was light. The second a little stronger. Within seconds they were
making out, their mouths intertwined, revealing occasional glimpses of
their tongues as Jamie's nervousness started to fade.

Ron shuffled in his seat as he watched the young cheerleaders, his cock
thickening inside his shorts. How far was this going to go, he wondered?
Clearly he should stop it right there and then, but something kept him
quiet. What if somebody showed up unexpectedly? At this time of day the
risk was low, but still, the situation that was unfolding was like
playing with fire.

Tori was the first to pause from their kissing; turning to Ron as Jamie
looked away, seemingly embarrassed. "Are you enjoying this?" she asked
in a breathy whisper.

Ron let out a half-laugh. "Yeah, I'm enjoying this."

"Do you want us to continue -- maybe do something else?"

He grinned. "You're asking questions you already know the answer to
again."

Tori leaned over the desk and her eyes fell to the thick erection
pressing against his gym shorts. "Well, if we're going to do this for
you, then you'll need to do something for us -- or for Jamie."

"I get the idea," he said, slightly irritated. "Before I agree to any of
that . . . how far are you willing to go?"

Tori smiled and reached for the bottom of Jamie's cheerleader sweater.
She started to inch it upwards, revealing the first glimpse of her bare
stomach and navel. Jamie grabbed her hands, stopping the sweater from
rising further. "It's okay, honey," Tori soothed, before turning to Ron.
"Rule number 1 -- you can look, but you can't touch."

Ron nodded that he understood. Jamie looked skeptical, but allowed Tori
to continue. She took a deep breath and closed her eyes as Tori worked
the cheerleader top up and over the white lace bra hidden beneath. Ron's
heart jumped as Jamie's breasts came into view. They were larger than
they appeared through the sweater -- not big, but not the partial
handful he had first thought. Most alluring was how firm and perfectly
placed they were, lifted high and together by the bra she was wearing.
Tori's fingers moved to the clasp. "Do we have a deal?" she asked,
looking back at Ron.

"Yes, damn it, we've got a deal," he said, his voice thick with
anticipation.

"No need to get pissy about it," Tori giggled, twisting the clasp and
peeling the cups away like she was unwrapping a present. Jamie's
breathing was getting heavy and her breasts rose and fell as her plump
pink nipples came into view. Tori dropped the white lace cups to the
side and started a slow massage of Jamie's exposed breasts.

"This is driving me crazy," Ron said, stroking his cock through the thin
material of his shorts.

"You should see what it's doing to me," Tori said, smiling.

He wasn't sure if that was intended as a suggestion, but he took it as
one. Slowly he stood from the chair and started to make his way around
the desk. Startled by his movement, Jamie backed up and started to pull
her bra back on. "Hold it," Tori whispered, stopping Jamie from going
further. She turned to face Ron. "Did you forget? *No* touching," she
said in a stern, clear voice, pressing her palm against his chest to
halt his advance.

He paused, his breathing rising and falling against her hand that held
him at bay. Tori's eyes stared into his, then fell lower to the
sheath-like ridge pressing out from his shorts. "Oh my," she whispered,
dropping her hand down and squeezing his cock. "A little glad to be
here?"

He closed his eyes as she massaged him through his shorts. Tori's
advances made clear that she was the brains behind what was happening;
the question now was how far would she go? He pulled her towards him,
reaching under her short skirt.

"You can tell what this is doing to me," he said. Now I want to see what
it's doing to you . . . "

Tori stared defiantly into his eyes as his fingers first grazed her
panties. Gently he brushed the outside, waiting for her to deflect his
advances. "Go lower," she said in a hoarse whisper, surprising him.

He smiled, sliding his fingers between her legs and against the moist,
cushion-like layer of her underpants. She let out an aroused giggle and
her breathing became jagged as she placed one palm on his face and
gently scraped his cheek with her fingernails. Reaching down, she
grabbed his wrist and guided his hand inside the waistband of her
panties. Her skin was baby-soft and quivering as he forced his way
between her legs until his fingers slid inside the drenched lips of her
pussy.

"Oh God, yes," she moaned, gripping his wrist and working his hand up
and down like a human sex toy.

Ron wrapped his other arm around her lower back and hugged her close as
his fingers continued to fuck her. He looked over her shoulder and saw
Jamie leaned against the wall. She had pulled her sweater down, but
still had a disheveled look about her, her breathing even heavier than
before.

"We're forgetting somebody," Ron moaned in Tori's ear, feeling her hair
brushing against his cheek. She continued to stroke his cock through the
paper-thin nylon of his gym shorts as she looked back over her shoulder.

"Cmon Jamie, join is . . . it's okay," Tori said. Jamie closed her eyes
as if trying to find some sense of willpower. "It's okay," Tori
repeated, extending a hand.

Jamie reluctantly allowed herself to be drawn away from the wall. Tori
placed both palms on Ron's broad chest and guided him backwards until he
was leaning against the edge of the desk. Staring into his eyes, she
worked her fingers inside the waistband of his gym shorts and tugged,
trying to pull them down. "They're too tight, big boy," she purred
playfully. "Why don't you pull them down for us . . . we want to see
what ya got."

Ron returned Tori's playful grin and eased up, dragging his gym shorts
down his muscular thighs. His cock sprang free and bounced as Tori moved
to her knees, dragging the shorts the remainder of the way down and
around his ankles. "Get his shirt, Jamie."

Jamie looked at Ron and giggled, biting her lip as she tugged at the
bottom of his t-shirt. He lifted his arms and she pulled it over his
chest. He stumbled slightly as the girls finished undressing him, Tori
working his shorts around each tennis shoe as Jamie pulled the t-shirt
over his head and tossed it to the side. He felt himself blushing as he
leaned against the cold edge of the desk wearing nothing but his gym
shoes and a smile. The girls nestled themselves under each arm. Tori
reached out and cradled his hard-on in her small hand. "You have
gorgeous cock, Ron . . . it's so deliciously thick."

Jamie giggled as she watched his dick swelling in Tori's fist. As Tori
jerked him off, Ron's eyes fell first to Jamie's white sneakers, then
traced slowly up her athletic thighs to the edge of her red and white
cheerleader skirt. He wondered if she was still without panties.

"Damn, girls, I don't know how much of this I can take."

Jamie rested one arm around his neck, while using the other to massage
his chest as Tori continued pumping his cock. Jamie giggled
mischievously as Tori bathed him in the thick goo that had started to
form. "Don't cum," Tori said, glancing up in his eyes as the office
filled with the squeaky sound of her hand stroking up and down his wet
hard-on.

His gaze returned to Jamie's sweater. "You know. . . . oh God . . . you
know what I would really like right now?" he mumbled, looking in Jamie's
blue eyes.

"What?" she asked curiously.

"I'd love it if . . . " His words trailed off as his legs started to
tremble, forcing him to tighten his grip against the edge of the desk.
"I'd love it if you'd pull your top up again so I can look at you."

Jamie exchanged a smile with Tori and stepped back. He watched her grab
the bottom of her cheerleader sweater and teasingly wiggle it up. The
bra was still unfastened and she grabbed it, lifting the sweater all the
way to her neck. Her young breasts raised up, her pink nipples hard and
begging. She embellished the moment further, leaning her head back and
dangling her hair between her shoulders as her hands reached down and
pulled up her skirt. Just had he hoped -- a thin layer of pubic hair
covered the outline of her pussy -- her panties where nowhere to be
seen.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Tori asked, releasing her grip on Ron's cock and
stepping away.

His swollen dick twitched as she let him go as if it was calling out for
her not to leave. Tori moved towards Jamie and he felt both girls' eyes
roaming up and down his naked frame. Jamie dropped her skirt and grabbed
Tori's arm, pulling her towards her, cupping her palm and whispering in
Tori's ear.

"Hey, no secrets," Ron said. "Secrets make me nervous."

Both girls started to giggle. "I'll do if he will," Tori said with a
wicked grin as she glanced at Ron.

"Do what?" he said.

"Jamie said she wants to watch us," Tori said in breathy whisper.

Ron looked at Jamie, who was ripe with embarrassment. "Watch us what?"
he asked.

Tori reached under her skirt and slowly maneuvered her panties down her
legs. "She wants to watch us do it . . . "

Ron used his own hand to continue working his cock as he looked into
Tori's dark eyes. He was harder than he could remember being in years
and felt like he might explode at any moment. He glanced back to Jamie,
who watched with silent anticipation. Tori moved towards the desk and
nudged him to the side, pushing the folders and papers out of the way.
She bounced herself up into a seated position, before reaching for Ron
and guiding him between her legs.

"Take me, lover," she whispered.

She leaned back, her palms on the desk, as Ron lifted her red and white
skirt, dragging her towards him and wrapping her thighs around his hips.
He felt a palm on his shoulder and turned to find Jamie standing behind
him, smiling into his eyes, then to Tori as she spread her body out and
waited to be taken. His cock was like granite as she pushed forward,
riding his steel-like shaft between the young cheerleader's legs.

With a final glimpse in Jamie's direction, he positioned the purple,
swollen head at the entrance of Tori's pussy. Slowly he rubbed up and
down between her lips, paying special attention to her sensitive clit.
Her hips began to move against him, like she was pulling him in.

"I don't think she can take anymore," Jamie whispered.

He nodded silently and pressed his hips forward, entering Tori. "OH
God," she moaned, in seeming relief.

Partially inside now, Ron grabbed her hips and pulled her body into him,
causing more of his shaft to disappear inside her. She was warm and
tight around him. Harder he squeezed, sliding his hands up her thighs as
he pulled her further forward, pushing more of his thickness into her
pussy. Her breathing turned to labored whimpers as he withdrew and
plunged again.

"Harder," she moaned, pushing herself up until her face was inches from
his own, her legs wrapped around his hips, the yarn of her cheerleader
sweater scratching his bare chest.

He obliged, pulling her further, until only the pounding of his hips
held her ass to the edge of the desk. Jamie stepped back and out of his
view for a moment. Steadily he fucked Tori, her tits bouncing beneath
her cheerleader sweater with the motion of their bodies. Suddenly he
felt Jamie's hands on him again, this time on his ass, squeezing and
guiding the motion of his pelvic thrusts. He felt her nipples brushing
against his back. He looked to the side and could see her sweater and
bra in a pile on the floor. She stood behind him; nude from the waist
up, reaching her hands around his waist and rubbing the ridges of his
abdomen as her bare tits pressed against his back.

"You're next," he grunted in between thrusts.

"Jamie! Oh God Jamie . . . I need you!" Tori whimpered.

Jamie moved from behind Ron and next to Tori, stroking her hair and
comforting her as Ron continued savagely fucking her. "It's okay, I'm
here," Jamie said in a soothing voice. "You okay? Does it feel good?"

Tori opened her eyes. They were glazed, her pupils seemingly dilated as
her lower body thrashed against Ron's hips. "It feels so good, Jamie . .
. it feels so good," she whimpered. "Kiss me . . . I want to fuck him
while you're kissing me."

Jamie looked up at Ron and smiled. The silhouette of her naked breast
dangled down as she leaned across, pulling her hair back and delivering
a gentle kiss to Tori's lips. Tori eased back into a lying position on
the desk, pulling Jamie down with her. Ron's thrusts were disappearing
in Tori, his cock plunging and withdrawing in an almost fury.

He shoved himself all the way inside, pinning her to the desk as he
pulled up her cheerleader sweater and unfastened the clasp that held the
front of her bra closed. He grabbed her thighs and resumed his thrusts.
Tori's breasts and nipples were larger than Jamie's and they bounced
about like Jello in a mold as Ron raised her legs up into a wide 'V',
pointing the bottom of her sneakers to the ceiling as he plunged and
withdrew in long, slow thrusts. Tori broke from her kissing with Jamie
and her hands fumbled about until Ron could feel her fingernails digging
into his forearms in frenzy.

Jamie stared down at Tori. "Are you okay?" she asked, her eyes darting
to Ron in a look of uncertainty.

"Cumming," Tori gasped, scratching at his arms and fighting for air. "Oh
my God, I'm cumming."

He lowered her legs and she squeezed them around his hips, her pussy
tightening in an almost vice-like sequence as her tennis shoes dug into
his ass. With his cock buried inside her, he bottomed out for three or
four half-thrusts before dragging out his thickened shaft and working it
with his fist. Jamie seemed in a trance as she watched him cumming in
wave after wave, his body shivering as the white semen spilled across
Tori's brown stomach.

He lifted his head and looked at Jamie, his eyes falling to her bare
breasts, her nipples still hard with excitement.

She smiled. "Now about that test," she said, and they both started to
laugh.

~~:~~:~~

Ron made his way down the aisle of assembled students, passing out the
test papers. He reached Jamie's desk and glanced first to the paper,
then to her, before letting out a long sigh.

"Jamie, I'm afraid I have some bad news."

She looked up at him. "What is it?"

"I'm afraid you didn't do as well on this test as you'd hoped you
would." She felt her stomach drop at the sound of his words. He smiled.
"You missed one," and he handed her the test, a large `A+' scrawled
across the top. She looked up at him and smiled "However," he added. "To
do well on the next test, I think we should continue with your tutoring
sessions."

"Do you think it really helped?"

"Oh, I'm certain of it."

"So, I'll meet you in your office after practice?" she asked.

"Don't be late," he said. "On second thought . . . the group study
arrangement we used last time seemed particularly effective."

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Member Responses Post Your Comment

Members can vote on this response!

nice idea..think i'll use it on my assessment next
year

12/2/2006

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holy crap that was hot!

12/5/2006

Members can vote on this response!

I know this is a old story but I came across it and had to comment, ,,
"holy cow batman" that was hot...

2/28/2007