Wendy finds a mesh football jersey laying on one workout bench, and picks it up and throws it to you as she takes you by the leash and ushers you back down the corridor of the fieldhouse and out the door.
You find yourself out in the sunshine again, only slightly more covered than you were minutes earlier. The warm rays seem to touch every inch of your bare skin through the loosely woven red material of the Cannondale jersey. Though the shirt hems out a few inches above the knees, you feel more naked than ever under the leering glances of the college students and alumni who follow you and the Conquistador cheerleader up the grassy hill to the filling stadium.
You expect to join the other cheerleaders in the students' lockerroom, but feel Wendy tug on your collar hard and steer you to another door marked 'PRIVATE'. Once again it is apparent Wendy doesn't believe such signage is intended for her.
The small white lockerroom is filled with men in black and white striped shirts sipping coffee and chatting animatedly. They all turn to look at the two of you, falling silent.
The two head linesmen look coolly to Wendy, then gesture to the other game officials.
"Okay, guys. If there are no questions, we'll meet you in a few minutes on the field," one says.
Once there are only the four of you, the men grin wolfishly, and close in on you and Wendy.
"Hello again, gentlemen!" the sexy head cheerleader greets them with an air of familiarity as one fondles your breasts through the see-through mesh. The other eases his hands over the twin cones covered by Wendy's tight red and white spirit sweater.
You watch the brunette ease herself out of the linesman's hands, saying, "You know the deal. Our new recruit will give you a hand if you give our team a hand in getting to the divisional title!"
They seemed to ignore what she said as they took renewed notice of you. One smoothed a palm over your chiselled cheekbone as he told her, "I don't know how you manage to recruit such beauties all the time, but keep on doing it!"
As you feel him and his colleague eye you up and down, you wonder how many times Wendy might have blackmailed an opposing team's cheerleader to do this.
Two hands rending the front of your mesh jersey down the middle break your train of thought.
"Yeah!" the man to your left praises. "Let us see that great bod of yours!" after he pushes your shredded shirt off your delicate shoulders.
"On your knees!" Wendy barks. You obediently drop to the cool floor.
The two men thrust the bulging white crotches of their trousers towards you expectantly. You can feel Wendy's eyes on you from just behind your shoulder, ever-vigilant. You swallow hard, dig down deep inside, remembering the honor of your college hangs on your following through with the vagaries of your bet.
You undo one, then the other fly, then return to the first to wrangle the thick slab of hot manmeat out of the open zipper, careful to avoid the metal teeth and the wrath of those surrounding you. You do the same to the other already seeping dick, a droplet flying off and nearly hitting you in the eye.
"Jack them! Jack them both, nice and hard!" Wendy instructs.
You do so, the pre-lube running down both greasy cockheads to lube your little palms. You shake the pulsing thick cocks in your fists as you shuck them, being cheered on by all three.
"Yeah, shake them pom-pons, baby!" the ref who tore off your jersey praises as he watches your tan boobies bobble with your exertions.
"Pound 'em to the left, pound 'em to the right! Jerk them pricks with all your might!" Wendy says excitedly. She seems to be turned on herself watching the action. You could feel her rubbing against the back of your head as she looks on from behind, her hips swishing like she was in the middle of a cheer.
"Gonna cream, gonna cream!" reminds the man holding her cheek.
All of a sudden, both men's cocks jet in your pumping hands, sending thick drops of white up into the air.
Surprised, you release the officials' pricks, arching away from the deluge. You can't go far, though. Wendy's legs are positioned wide behind you. You lean back and watch the drops splatter your now-upturned titties, as well as your face.
"Rub it in! Rub that skincream in, baby!" both men coax as they wank themselves dry.
After a moment's hesitance, a knee pushes against your back. You look up to a smiling Wendy and rub the greasy stuff into your chest and face, feeling suitably soiled.
You close your eyes for a moment luxuriating in the slutty feel of the stuff. When you open them again, the officials are gone.
"Come on, cum queen, we have more work to do!" Wendy urges.
What's Wendy planned next?
--a visit to the opposing team?
--a visit to her coaches?
--a parade before the home crowd?
--something else?
Time remaining: 46 hrs. 30 mins.
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