Chapter 2

Debbie waited until the raven-haired Sherry came out from behind the concrete post. She had to talk with her. The urgings deep in her belly simply wouldn't go away. She had to find out about the girl and that bull of a man who had fucked her so expertly.

"Uh, pardon me," Debbie began, then blushed furiously. She didn't have the foggiest idea how she was going to approach the questions she wanted so desperately to ask.

"Yes," said Sherry, still settling her clothing. Then she noticed that Debbie was blushing. She laughed and said, "You saw Ben and me fucking, didn't you? Yeah, you sure did!"

Debbie could only nod her head. Finally, she managed to stutter, "I... I didn't mean to spy--honest! But I heard the noise and I went to look and I saw you and Ben and..."

"And you saw more than you intended, huh? Don't worry about it, kid," said the older girl. "That kind of thing happens all the time around here. Hell, with big bruisers like the guys on the football team and all us sexy cheerleaders, it's got to happen. But look, do me a favor and don't mention it. We're not supposed to 'fraternize with the team' as the expression goes."

"Fraternize? It looked like you were..." Debbie stopped in mid-sentence and blushed again.

"Hey, you are a shy one, aren't you. Yeah, Ben and I have been fucking each other all season. Course, this is only the second game, but what with all the pre-season stuff, it's been pretty good." She unconsciously began to run her long fingers over her snatch, remembering the long cock and the hard fucking.

"I'm on the cheerleaders' squad, too," said Debbie. "I was just hired. In fact, I just came out of Mr. Bradford's office when I saw you and Ben. But don't worry; I won't say a word!"

Sherry studied the new cheerleader and shook her head. "You're only about eighteen, aren't you?"

"Yeah," Debbie said defensively, "but what's that got to do with anything."

"Take some advice from an old-timer. Don't get mixed up with Bradford. That motherfucker is bad news."

"Old-timer? You're not more than twenty-one."

"Twenty. But the two year difference might as well be a century. Around here, you learn quick. Like who to put out for and who to avoid. Bradford's on the no-no list."

"He seemed like a nice-enough guy."

"The hell you say! But let old Sherry clue you in. On our way to the locker room, of course. We've got practice in about twenty minutes. The dark-haired girl put her arm around Debbie's shoulders and guided her down the deserted corridors. Debbie felt a warmth for this open girl, more so than she had for Bradford. But still, Sherry just might have something against the man. He had seemed to be an all-right sort.

"And in here," Sherry said, "are our luxurious, posh, and otherwise scummy quarters." She made a sweeping gesture with her arm, meant to encompass the entire locker room.

It stunk. As she made a face, Debbie held back the desire to sneeze. The room was dusty and hadn't been cleaned in a month of Sundays. Still, those cold, harsh metal lockers and the few lovely' girls milling around in various stages of undress pulled her like a magnet pulls iron. This was the big time. She would be out in front of nationwide cameras soon showing her stuff, and she would have the chance to be discovered. Maybe she wouldn't even work as a high-fashion model; she might jump all the way up into the film world. Or television. To have her very own series on television!

And all from a humble start as a cheerleader for a second- rate football team. It could happen. This was America, the land of opportunity.

"Where's my locker?" she asked. "I'd better get dressed."

"So eager," said Sherry, shaking her head. "You'll learn."

"If I can find me somebody like Ben, I'm sure I'll learn a lot," she laughed. "But I need a costume, too. Where do I get it?"

"Check with the equipment manager." said Sherry, pointing. "And get a move on. Bradford likes to come through. You should have your entire costume on before then."

Debbie hardly heard the other girl's warning. She was in a trance, enthralled with the idea of hitting it big like this. Cheerleader today, movie star tomorrow. It was possible. And it would happen; she just knew it.

She took the skimpy costume from the bored man behind the grate and moved to find herself an empty locker. She was a little uneasy again about stripping and putting the tiny costume on, but this time it wasn't so bad. There were only the other cheerleaders around--other girls. Debbie had to suck in her breath when she saw so much naked flesh.

And beautiful naked flesh at that. She had assumed that she would be the standout on the team. She was lovely and she knew it. But these girls at least equaled her firm tits and flaring ass and tapering legs. They moved with easy grace. No trace of sag marred any of their bouncing, jostling boobs. And none of them seemed the least bit self-conscious about wandering around naked.

Debbie found herself staring. She couldn't help it. She watched the clean, white flash of legs moving swiftly, lithely. Pussies came and went, securely positioned in the slingshot-like pouches of their g-strings. Tits were mashed down flat and held in while the tiny vests were fastened. Knee-high boots finished the picture.

Debbie realized she would be late for practice if she dawdled any more. She looked around one last time to see if anyone was watching her. No one paid her the slightest bit of attention. She was only one more naked girl in a sea of absolutely sexy women.

She wiggled into the g-string, marveling at the way it molded itself to her cunt lips. She tried tucking in her pussy fur and found that no matter how much she tried, it always stuck out at the top of the g-string. She sighed. She would have to shave off some of her lovely blonde pussy fleece. The singular triangular piece in back of her fitted firmly into the crack of her ass. With every movement it grated against her skin.

But it wasn't uncomfortable. If anything, the feel of it moving slowly over her naked flesh turned her on. She knew it had to be the tightness of the g-string. It pressed into her sex slit and onto her clitoris. The blonde just hoped that she wouldn't embarrass herself when she got in front of people. She had the horrible vision of actually coming, due to the feel of her costume.

She sighed and hung her blouse up in the tiny locker. The vest was something else. Tight, almost too tight. She was wiggling into it when she heard harsh breathing behind her. Startled, she turned to see Mr. Bradford standing and watching her every movement.

"Mr. Bradford!" she exclaimed. "What are you doing here?"

"Trying to hurry you up, you dumb bitch. The others are already on the field. Get that ass of yours in gear or I'll whip it all the way out onto the sidelines."

His words were harsh but the way his eyes moved over her body was obscene. She felt as if her entire body were naked to his lustful gaze.

"Wh-what about my boots?" she stammered, trying to cover her confusion.

"Later. Just get a pair of tennis shoes from equipment."

"Mr. Bradford," she said firmly, "get the hell out of here while I dress. You're not supposed to be in here."

"The hell, I'm not. Remember, I'm general manager. Besides that, you women's lib types fought to get women reporters into the team locker room. That cuts both ways, bitch. If women can get in and get a cheap thrill seeing naked jocks, then there's nothing wrong with a man going into a women's locker room. That's the law. Now shake that ass!"

Debbie was stunned. What he said was true, but she had never thought that particular ruling would ever effect her. She wasn't a reporter and had no desire to go see a bunch of sweaty men after a football game. And yet it didn't seem right that Mr. Bradford could come in here and watch her dress.

Feeling definitely uncomfortable in the costume, she picked up a pair of tennis shoes and hurried out onto the field. The team was going through their calisthenics, and the cheerleaders were grouped at one side of the field. Debbie ran over and joined them.

"Did Bradford give you any shit?" asked Sherry, moving up beside Debbie.

The blonde could only shake her head. She was out of breath from running and didn't quite trust her voice.

Debbie had thought she would be the beauty of the team of cheerleaders. She was stunned at the sight of so many lovely girls. Not a one wouldn't have turned heads--twice--on the street. And dressed in such tiny costumes, she wondered if any male in the stadium ever watched the game while the girls were out cheering.

"Good," said Sherry. "And if you run into any trouble with him, just let me know. Okay?"

Debbie didn't have a chance to answer. They formed up lines and began to go through their drills. The practice session was tiring, but she ended up feeling happy about it. Even aroused. The motion of the soft inner lining of the vest across her nipples thrilled her. Every leap made it stroke and caress her tits. The motion of her legs scissoring back and forth, spreading wide with jumps and splits, made the tiny g-string rub into her most sensitive flesh. Her pussy lips were actually hard with lust, and she felt the beginnings of dampness welling up inside her.

She was hornier than hell after the workout.

She tried to keep her mind off the players on the field. She wondered if they felt the same way after they finished. Somehow, seeing the way they smashed into each other, she doubted it. They were probably bone-tired and not wanting anything except going to bed-to sleep.

The girl felt a hand on her almost-naked ass. Surprised, she turned and saw Bradford standing behind her. As her eyes opened in amazement that he would try such a thing in public, he squeezed down hard on her asscheek. She squealed in surprise.