"It's 3 am Lyla, where the hell have you been?"
A brawny 6'3", Alan looked down on his petite wife as he demanded an explanation.
"Gosh, I had no idea it was that late, hon."
Lyla was a particularly cute little blonde, but her hair and make-up were a mess. She looked as though she'd had a rough night.
"I was worried sick and texted you about a hundred times. No answer."
"My phone was in the bottom of my bag, and I'd been drinking a bit, so I forgot all about it. But it's a long story. You know how those 15th annual high school reunions go."
"I don't know, Lyla. I didn't go to mine because I was in the military on the other side of the country."
"Well, when you got so bored with my old schoolmates after just an hour, and then got that terrible headache, I thought you'd just go right home and fall asleep."
"I faked the headache to have a better excuse to get the hell out of there. I came home, made a drink, and watched a couple of porno movies."
"Did you watch the threesome one starring Mindy Mason?"
"Yeah, as a matter of fact I did."
"She's the porno star that you think sorta looks like me, isn't she?
"Yeah, a little."
"And you want me to do all the nasty stuff she does in the videos, don't you?"
"Yeah, most of it. You know, even though it was after midnight I was still really horny. So while I wanted to jerk off when Mindy was taking it doggie style while eating another woman's pussy, I decided to save my load for you. And I waited, and waited, and waited."
"Gawd, I'm so sorry, hon. But I think I know what scene you're talking about. It always gives you a great boner."
"Yeah. But let's get back to the main issue. The damn reunion ended at 11 pm. Where have you been for the past four hours?
"Oh boy. Well, about 20 of us, mostly former cheerleaders and athletes, decided to go to a roadhouse to have a little fun and continue catching up."
"Was your old boyfriend Eric there?"
Eric was one of the guys there, yes. But he'd never really been a boyfriend of mine. The deal is, he was the quarterback when I was the head cheerleader. He said that meant that we were supposed to fuck a couple of times. He had his eyes on half the girls in our class, and on even more of the girls in the class below, so I didn't like him that much. But I took my cheerleader responsibilities seriously, so I fucked him a few times like I was supposed to.
"I didn't know that fucking was something quarterbacks and head cheerleaders were supposed to do."
"I didn't either, but Eric insisted that it was. And just about every head cheerleader I've talked to since told me they got banged by their quarterback, too."
"So Eric was there?"
"I admitted that he was."
"I noticed that you wore a very short pleated skirt to remind everyone that you used to be the head cheerleader. And you seemed to do a lot of twirling around so the skirt would swirl up and everybody could see your fine ass. And damn near your VJ, too."
"For as long as you've known me, Alan, you know that I've always enjoyed a little innocent attention."
"That's not so innocent. So what happened at the roadhouse?"
"Oh you know, there was a lot of drinking and dancing."
"And flirting?"
"Come on, Alan, flirting goes with drinking like rum goes with Coke. It would be weird if there wasn't a little innocent flirting."
"Innocent again?"
"Sure. Before I knew what was happening, a couple of the former football players had hoisted me onto the bar. They're so big and strong, and I'm so petite, that it was easy for them."
"I'll bet. They probably got a little extra energy from looking up your short skirt."
"You have a dirty mind! Anyway, the DJ put on some songs on from our high school years, so I did some of our old dance routines on top of the bar. But since all of us are adults now, I made the routines a little more age appropriate."
"What do you mean by 'age appropriate'?"
"You know, I rubbed my tits a little, fooled around near my crotch. The kind of stuff you see all dancers do these days, even during halftime shows at the Super Bowl."
"I can just imagine. So you were up there dancing with your little skirt flying up in the air so everybody could pretty much see your private treats?"
"Actually, I was just wearing my stiletto heels, top, and tiny panties."
"What happened to your skirt?"
"It got torn. Here, let me show you."
"Lyla, that's not torn, it's ripped in half. How did that happen?"
"I guess a couple of guys, Eric might have been one of them, grabbed it while I was being put up onto the bar. And it ripped a little. While I was dancing some of the guys must have torn the rest of it off. Something like that. I was having so much fun that I honesty don't know."
"It didn't bother you that you, a married woman without your husband, were only wearing heels, panties, and a top?"
"No, not really because everybody was being so supportive. They all cheered and made me feel really good about myself. It's not as though I was doing anything wrong. All the guys were shouting for me to take my top off, but I wouldn't. I believe my boobs are only for my husband to see, so that wouldn't have been right."
"Lyla, you go topless on the beach all the time. And you know how the guys stare when you make a big deal of rubbing suntan lotion on your tits."
"Don't be disrespectful, Alan. They're breasts, not tits. Besides, that's different because it's during the day."
"Big difference. Were the guys at the roadhouse grabbing you?"
"Some of them, sure. That's just the way athletes are. It's like we cheerleaders were taught about getting our butts and boobs grabbed in high school. When it comes to athletes, you have to expect it and accept it. Besides, what's wrong with a little attention from the class studs?"
