Peggy and the other girls worked on their routines all day every day for the next eight weeks. At least one of them would be at our house when I left for work in the morning, and they would still be at it when I came home. Whey they finally left, they all said "Good-bye, Sam," in unison in sultry voices, undoubtedly remembering our high school fucking. "See you at the reunion." Were they expecting to have me again? Peggy didn't say anything, but I suspected a lot.
The big night finally arrived. We left the children with her parents and went to the hotel where the reunion was to be held. The desk clerk's eyebrows went up a notch when he saw Peggy in her uniform. Visions of the evening to come floated through my imagination as we went up to our room. Fortunately my sport coat hid the bulge in my pants. The ice bucket and the two bottles of champagne that we had ordered were already there along with a good supply of glasses. I checked the closet. A slightly open door provided a clear view of the bed. The setup was perfect.
At six-thirty we went down to the ballroom for registration. Imagine our surprise when we found the registration table was staffed by our principal and several of our teachers. We exchanged a few jokes about still having chaperones in our late twenties. Peggy was immediately recognized in her uniform.
We stayed together for the first half hour. When one of her targets arrived, we split up. The pep rally wasn't scheduled until nine o'clock, so she had plenty of time to fit in at least one fuck before she and the others went on stage. I tried to keep an eye on Peggy, but I was soon caught up in a conversation with a couple of my math class friends, and I missed seeing her leave the room with the linebacker that she had gone after. It wouldn't be possible for me to sneak into our room and to take up my post in the closet. When she returned an hour later, she whispered in my ear, "One down, three to go, and they're all here." I held her tightly as I kissed her. Her firm nipples pressed against my chest; she was definitely braless. My cock stirred with the realization that she had just been fucked by one of our class jocks.
We found a table near the stage where a band that had played at our school dances was performing songs from our student days. We took our turns on the dance floor. A couple minutes before nine, Peggy went to an area beside the stage to await the cheerleaders' introduction. The principal picked up a microphone. "I guess I'm the last person you wanted to see here tonight," he said. The crowd roared with laughter and applause. "I'm sorry to say that our football season this year wasn't as good as it was ten years ago. We haven't scored like your team did." I knew one linebacker who was silently laughing at that remark. "Maybe the present team doesn't have the proper motivation yours did." I snickered at that one. "You've probably noticed four ladies here tonight who really knew how to promote school spirit. I'm happy to welcome them back tonight to show you how they kept your spirits high. Let's welcome to the stage Peggy, Amanda, Christine, and Sally."
The band struck up the school fight song as the girls ran on stage and started dancing. The crowd cheered as they went into their first number with several high kicks. Their bloomers were much tighter than I remembered them being ten years before. All four bloomers outlined their pussies to the joy of the men in the audience; all appeared to be slightly damp. The tight sweaters showed eight rigid nipples. The song ended with them doing the splits as the class went wild. The cheerleaders had barely gotten to their feet when the next song began. In this number the girls bent over with their backs to the audience and shouted out part of a verse between their legs before straightening up and jumping around to face the crowd to finish the final lines. They did a total of four dances to the raucous approval of our classmates. The old school spirit was definitely alive and well that night as everyone, men and women, yelled for more, more, more, more. The anticipated encore number involved high kicks in the manner of a chorus line. Again came the call for more, more, more, more.
The band began again with a heavy downbeat followed by blaring trumpets followed by the pounding rhythm of a number I had heard in only one other place. The girls moved to the front edge of the stage one step at a time, their hips bumping to the rhythm of the music. Three back steps preceded a sharp turnaround. They bent forward and flipped up the backs of their tiny skirts to show off their bloomers. Everyone was cheering, shouting, and whistling. Raising upright, Peggy raised the bottom of her sweater to the lower edge of her boobs. Amanda did the same next, then Christine and finally Sally followed suit. They bumped their way back to the edge of the stage. Sally lowered her sweater, then Christine, Amanda, and Peggy lowered theirs in turn. A loud chant went up. "Take it off. Take it off. Take it off." I found myself joining in. Even the women were chanting as the girls stepped back a few feet. They jumped up and turned around with their backs to the audience.
Using their fingertips, they slowly raised the sides of their tiny skirts up to their waists. They looked back across their right shoulders and hooked their thumbs into the waistbands of their bloomers. "Take it off. Take it off. Take it off." The chant became frenzied. They cupped their right hands to their ears. "Take if off! Take it off! Take it off!" The volume increased. They leaned toward the crowd with their hands still at their ears. "TAKE IT OFF!! TAKE IT OFF!! TAKE IT OFF!!" The women yelled louder than the men. The bloomers were lowered as the girls wiggled their bottoms. They let the garments fall to their ankles. They kicked the bloomers to the front row of the crowd. Peggy's aim to my hand was perfect. I quickly stuffed it into my sport coat pocket. Linking arms, the girls did a chorus line high kick fully exposing their pink G-strings. It was evident that they enjoyed putting on their show as much as our classmates enjoyed seeing it.
Once again they bumped their way back to the edge of the stage. This time they raised their sweaters up to their nipples. Peggy and Amanda looked at each other as Christine and Sally exchanged looks. They looked back at the audience and pulled the sweaters the rest of the way off. Four sets of large, firm tits jiggled as their owners shook their shoulders. The skirts quickly joined the sweaters on the stage floor. More high kicks followed, first in unison, then each girl did a few solo kicks. As Sally finished her last kick, all four kicked their right legs up as high as possible, then fell forward in a splits as the music stopped. The crowd rose to its feet as it roared its approval. The band leader stepped to the microphone. "That's what I call school spirit!" he said. "I think I went to the wrong school." Another cheer went up. "Ladies and gentlemen, your classmates! Peggy!" Peggy stood up and made a deep bow. "Amanda!" She stood and bowed. "Christine!" She rose and took her bow. "Sally!" She took her turn. The four girls grabbed their skirts and sweaters and dashed to the rear of the stage. Since there was no dressing room available, they hid behind the band to dress.
Peggy ran to me and threw her arms around my neck and kissed me firmly on the mouth. "I need my bloomers," she whispered in my ear.
"Hey, sports fans!" someone yelled at us. We looked in the direction of the voice and saw Bob Jacobs, the defensive center from the football team. He was on Peggy's target list. A quick glance at his crotch showed that he had enjoyed the show. My pants demonstrated my appreciation. "That was some show, Peggy. How long did it take to put that together?"
"A couple months," she said.
"They practiced every day at our house after I went to work," I said. "I had no idea they were planning to strip."
"My bloomers," she growled in my ear.
