Foreplay: I began this story over 2 years ago and broke off, stuck wondering how to progress. Since then I've written 'Spider' and 'Twins' but I felt Cheers had to be completed. Hope you enjoy.
***
"Please, daddy, pretty please."
Ellie had the top three buttons of her blouse undone, exposing the deepest cut bra that the budget stores could offer. "No! And that's final," I snarled back. "And button your blouse up before your mother sees you." I was annoyed at the number of times she'd asked me.
"You rarely complain though, do you?" she snapped, fastening just one of the offending buttons. "Look, we're in desperate need of a coach. You used to enjoy helping out when I was younger. Why not now?"
"Because," I said, "It was a long time ago and only when Billy was ill that time and on the odd occasions when he was on holiday. The team was much younger then. They were happy to follow the simple routines that Billy taught me." Ellie was distracting me. This was by no means the first time she'd unbuttoned her blouse when she wanted me to do something or lend her money. She had blossomed tremendously over recent years. Her puppy fat had transferred to her breasts and buttocks, her teeth had been tidily rearranged by dental braces and her legs were now slim and toned. A further two years of endless diet fads and exercise later she became a very fit young lady that any father would be proud of.
"So," she added after a suitable pause to allow me to reconsider her request, "You seem to like gazing at my tits whenever mum isn't around and with most of my friends when they come round." She'd noticed. Of course she'd noticed. My thoughts went back to the last slumber party she'd had.
"Me? You think it's my fault that you and your friends display every inch of flesh legally possible?" I snapped. That wasn't completely true - winter was only slowly giving way to spring and this reflected in the clothes they wore and their long tanned legs were often hidden by leg warmers ... except of course down town at weekends. Shortly after her 18th party I'd been recruited to taxi Ellie and her friends almost every weekend - many opportunities to learn that skirts got shorter when the girls hit the nightclubs. My initial reluctance to become a regular chauffeur was now an eagerness to help whenever I could. The girls rewarded me with a view of my back seat beauties' panties through the rear mirror! And a kiss from each as a thanks for saving them the taxi fare. Oh, yes, and the slumber party. Tom, Ellie's big brother, was now living with his latest girlfriend. That left accommodation for two girls in his old room and two in Ellie's room. The two in Tom's room were in the Cheerleader troupe; ample tits inside barely decent nighties left little to my imagination.
"Just think about it," snorted Ellie as she stomped out. "Or else stop borrowing my panties from the dirty linen." Fuck, that was something else I thought I'd got away with.
I must admit, I did. I thought long and hard. It was embarrassing enough that my daughter had sussed out me perving her intimate scent but the thought of training a dozen pre-chosen beauties - some of whom I'd taxied - got my pulse racing, my heart beating double speed.
***
"Did Ellie have a word with you Phil?" asked Lynne, my wife of 24 years.
"About what?" I asked, in as innocent a voice as I could muster.
"The Cheerleaders," Lynne answered, her small naked breasts pressing against my back. "They're having a rough time at the moment, trying to support a football team who are having an even rougher time near the bottom of the league."
"Yes she did, earlier this evening. Why do you ask? I'm a happily married man with a beautiful daughter. I don't want to be seen as someone letching at a group of scantily clad young ladies."
"It could be good for you." Her hand moved around and lightly stroked my chest, brushing against one then the other nipple. "Let's face it, we don't fuck anywhere near as often now." Lynne pulled gently on my shoulder, turning me on to my back. These talks in bed happened only when Lynne needed an answer to a question I couldn't get away from.
"Are you serious?" I replied, as her hand stroked up and down my belly. She kissed me gently on my neck, a kiss that ended in a tiny lick. That always got my attention. Lynne crossed her leg over mine and I could feel her silky smooth sex rubbing against me. Lynne had purposely shaved and she rubbed against me when she wanted more attention, moving just enough to cause the delightful feel of her engorged sex against my leg.
"Why not?" she asked as she raised herself up sufficiently to kiss me while slowly humping my leg. "It's not as if you don't know most of them." As I turned to face her the kiss became deep, passionate, my response causing her to hump faster. My mouth was now her property. The kiss deepened, saliva flowed, tongues played games, the movement of her moist pussy lips against my leg became faster. Then she broke away. "Agree to help and you can fuck me any way you wish. And it's not as if you don't know some of them already."
I remained silent and Lynne pulled away, leaving me with a raging erection. Then she rolled over away from me and feigned sleep. I lay for a while considering what I should do. After mulling over the possibility of watching a team of fit young ladies practising high kicks and bending over, my erection was even more steely hard. "OK," I said finally, "But I'll need to catch up on stuff." All that baton twirling, throwing them up and expertly catching had been far too difficult for me but Billy had done some dance routines and all I had to do was stick to his instructions. The dance and march moves were simple enough, but getting schoolgirls to synchronise was damn near impossible. Of course, getting a dozen 19 to 23 year old young ladies to do likewise might be equally challenging.
Lynne turned over once more and again I could feel her soft naked breasts touch my skin. "So you'll give it a try?" She recommenced humping my leg. The humping had been there right from the start, not so much a habit but her way of getting things rolling. Occasionally I wondered just how long she'd been humping. It turned me on when we were Ellie's age and it still did now, many years later.
"It's going to be very difficult. When Ellie was 12 all her troupe just wanted to shake pompoms, twiddle sticks and march accurately enough to win competitions; more majorettes than cheerleaders but try telling Ellie that."
"But you'll try?" Lynne moved over, raised herself up and with minimum effort she rose, manoeuvred herself and expertly enclosed my rod within that warm, wet cave of pleasure. Toned thigh muscles from regular exercise helped lift and lower her love tube giving me blissful feelings, slowly bidding my piston to release its payload.
"Yes," I answered, hardly able to speak amid the pleasure Lynne was giving me, "I'll give it a go." The payload didn't arrive, for Lynne knew me too well. She slowed and I could feel her clenching inner muscles to grip me like a super-oiled vice - not that I'm small, but 20 plus years' use of what was once tight needed just that bit extra. That extra was reserved for special times ... birthdays, anniversaries, valentines, Christmas and, especially, New Year when we toasted the occasion with fizzy wine while watching the Thames fireworks display on TV. Then we went upstairs and made our own shooting stars.
"Mmmm, good," was Lynne's only reply. In the faint moonlight I watched her cute pointed breasts rise and fall, entranced by the slow deliberate movements. Breasts, like the vast majority of the male population, fascinated me. In the weak light they were a pale greyish blue, her darker nipples even more so. Rise and fall, rise and fall, an almost hypnotic rhythm that just lulled me into allowing Lynne to reward me with an overwhelming cum.
But it didn't stop there. Lynne had aroused her own needs beyond where she might use fingers to satisfy herself. Hell, that used to be a real turn on for me, but now she rarely let me watch.
"Now lick me out. Make me cum." Lynne ordered, she rarely wasted words.
"Mlie niss," I managed, my nose nuzzled where it always smelled best, my tongue busily coaxing an oh so eager clit to send urgent messages to Lynne's sex brain. Lynne also knew my tongue hated stubble as much as she hated a stubbled chin. This had been planned.
"Oh yes, oh, yes, just there, make me cum." Her hips rose, pushing her cunt hard against me. I paused for breath. "No, no, no don't stop, mmmm yes, there, yes, mmmm." It wasn't often that Lynne spewed out a torrent of naughty words but on this occasion she exceeded herself. When the four, five and six letter words had ceased, she grinned, "Sorry about that, but that's the best cum I've had for years. Why don't we do it again?"
"Sorry," I said, "But I don't think I can." Even with my tongue teasing Lynne's clit and even with the heavenly scent of her most exquisite aphrodisiac I hadn't even produced a semi.
"No problem," she began, her tits now resting on my chest, "Just think of the benefits of coaching a dozen," she now whispered in my ear, drawing out her words, "Young beauties, their long silky legs, their tits, their curves, their honey pots." All the while her fingers were coaxing my hardly semi to become thick and hard. It worked. "And you're always in a good mood when you've taxied them back from the nightclubs."
Lynne left me to muse over Friday and Saturday nights. Most weeks it was past midnight when I collected the boozy girls, tits a-plenty as they ducked to get in the car, kisses a-plenty as they left, some lingering enough to leave Ellie with an envious look on her face.
"Doggy," Lynne commanded, breaking me from my reverie.
"You said my choice."
"Oh did I? Well you were too slow deciding. It's doggy or nothing."
