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Things had turned for the worst just days after we had excitedly moved into our new house. All the joy happiness and hope instantly evaporated just before the start of a new school year.
All the camaraderie mysteriously vanished, as my family of joyful goodwill, bonhomie and palpable love turned to nervous, suspicious loners, guarded on every word or action.
The worry was I could not pinpoint what the catalyst was for this bile fed atmosphere. Our parents became argumentative and distant, and solemnity became the way of our once happy dynasty.
My twin sister, Sally, was the first to break the shackles of our residual omnipresent gloom. She was always a bundle of bouncy, outgoing ecstasy and very quickly made a new host of friends at our new college.
Our mournful existence was dragged begrudgingly by time. It was finally broken when Sally found a desire in making the college’s cheerleader team. An aim with her natural good looks, exuberant personality and a strong hard work ethic would be taken with ease.
“I’m in, I’ve made the team,” hollered Sally bouncing through the kitchen shaking her hands above head. Vigorously pulsating on the spot, bursting with exuberance like a cheerleader whirling dervish on speed!
She looked as happy as I had ever seen her. She bounced and hollered not caring that her pleated cheerleader skirt was flapping up and exposing her underwear. Her joyful exuberance was naturally infectious and injected the first breach of sustained misery that pervaded our dwelling.
“Congratulations,” I energetically praised as I lifted my head from the table out of my teatime stupor, genuinely happy for my pretty sister. I knew that she and her friends had their heart set on making the team, so much, so they even bought the uniform beforehand to make a wholehearted impression.
“Good for you!” Added our father rapidly lowering his newspaper to reveal a big sincere smile of empathy for Sally’s triumph.
I was really pleased for her although I found her desire to be ogled at by thousands of Neanderthal randy teens at a Piltdown football match slightly bemusing. She had practised every available minute in her bedroom, driving me nuts as I tried to study in the bedroom next door.
“I’ve invited some of the other girls around tonight so we can practise on the lawn!” She cheerily announced still unable to keep still, her budding breasts visually trembling under her tight dark red uniform top.
“Really?” sternly reproached Father pushing his specs up his nose, “And on whose lawn will that be taking place?” he teased.
Sally momentarily came down with a thump, taking Father seriously. Her face broke into a smile again, “Can we Daddy, Please?”
“Only if I get a big kiss from my treasured daughter.”
Sally waltzed around the kitchen table and gave Father a huge hug and kissed her captive full on the lips with a force that pushed his head right back.
“Oh, I say!” he blushed as she let him come up for air.
“Thank you, daddy, thank you,” she loudly gushed hugging and kissing him all the while just as our Mother heftily barged through the door with a big basket of washing under one arm.
“Sally’s made the Cheerleader team,” reported Father still being half-strangled and hugged by the high-spirited Sally.
“Really?” dolefully answered our Mother as she methodically lifted and folded our wet clothes from her basket. “Maybe she’ll find time to tidy her room properly now,” she spitefully mumbled.
“Oh come on Christine, give the girl a break,” bahis firmaları protested father as Sally sighed and playfully poked her tongue behind Mother’s back before shooting off to her room.
” She’s an A1 student, never in trouble, doesn’t do drugs and soon you’ll be able to watch her perform once and a while at the football,” defended Father.
“Well, it would be nice if somebody performed around here!” shouted Mother before angrily moving on, “anyway, you’ve seen her perform many times.”
I looked at Father, who promptly hid his face in the newspaper again. I knew something wasn’t right with Mother and Father and what was all that “treasured daughter stuff about? Why was Mother suddenly venting her anger about chores where before she was incredibly supportive and helpful in our subjects?
It was too easy to blame the house, as it was perfect for our needs. It was spacious and quiet, with helpful, friendly neighbours situated ideally on the outskirts of town.
It was ultra-modern, and apparently, we bought it at a snip, as the previous owners were hot to trot. From the moment we truly felt at home in our new house was the time that Mother had declared she wanted to move again.
All the excited newly picked cheerleaders Mandy, Gemma, Jane, Sandra and Liz, came to our house. They scuttled up to Sally’s room to change after quickly giving cursory welcomes.
I went to leave the kitchen and go to my bedroom when I heard a scathing
“Where are you going?” rasping out from Mother.
“To my bedroom,” I answered innocently only to find the question was directed at my father.
“You’re staying right here!” she ordered, and my father meekly obeyed. I looked around mystified as he obediently took a seat and I carried on upstairs.
From with-in, my bedroom I could hear the girls in unfathomable in high-pitched scatterbrained girl talk. It was interjected with the odd squeal of delight. I imagined the scene, bras, tops and panties. Slipping on pleated skirts and pulling their tight tops all the while helping each other into their girlie uniforms. It was a sexy image, but the thing I envied most was their camaraderie and lust for life. At the same time, I sat at my desk to work on a laborious square essay that in all probability, no one would read.
I soon heard the girls run out onto the lawn accompanied to the sound of a solid beat for them to keep time to. I could hear giggling and laughter and the occasional cry of “Go Bears!”
It proved too hard to concentrate. My secret heart’s desire was performing with the team. I sneaked a look and saw the glorious Gemma standing in profile with her hands on her hips, watching the others go through some move.
Her long dark red hair was tied in a ponytail, clearing her permanently smiling elfin face. She was superbly built for a lusting virgin like me. Tall enough without being too intimidating, breasts that were ample and stunningly alluring under her tight top: firm, tanned legs and a magnificently shaped bottom.
She had the body of a well-proportioned adult and the more artistic admirers in the toilets at college rudely demonstrated this. Many had would be artists had drawn their interpretation of Gemma naked in the toilet cubicles. They were all in agreement with her proportions, poses and elfin face making her instantly recognisable.
One overzealous drawing of veneration took up the whole back of a cubicle door. I pictured Gemma naked covering her mouth in feigned shock as her panties had fallen down around her ankles. kaçak iddaa It was only a line drawing, but it turned me on no end, and I always used that cubicle to lust after her even if it was just to sit down, dream and pee.
Gemma had all the assets all right but what made her so platitudinous was her beguiling personality. She was just so kind and generous and treated all as equals. I would sit on the toilet looking at the artist’s impression of her and feel unbelievably aroused and guilty at the same time. I had nothing but contempt for the cowardly scrawled slogans around the picture claiming the sordid things they’d inflict upon the goddess of my dreams.
“I’d bend her over and fuck her!”
“Suck my cock bitch!” and ‘I’d fuck her tits!”
They all made me angry, “How dare they!” I thought while hypercritically imagining myself enacting out their sordid acts.
All the girls locked arms on the lawn and practised marching on the spot, kicking and jumping all in unison. I found it hard to see any discernible artist merit in what they were doing, it had none of the grandeur, poise of ballet or the swing and rhythm of popular dance. The only attraction I could see was pretty girls who tantalised and teased with the odd flash of their white panties.
It looked like every kick, leap starburst, twist or bend was maximised to give a sexy fleeting glimpse of a pretty girls undergarment. Not that I minded as I stood back from the window so I couldn’t be seen.
“We’ll work on throwing Liz first,” I heard Sandra instruct, as the self-designated leader of this little get-together.
Sandra was tall and slim with long legs and small breasts with an elegant accent and glasses lending her an unqualified gravitas to lead and keep her out of this manoeuvre.
She stood straight-backed analysing and instructing from the front. In the ordinary circumstances of everyday life, it was challenging to imagine Sandra gyrating and bending in such a provocative manner. To see a girl going against her noble conduct made her dance sexier as if to get one over her superior nose in the air attitude.
Liz was the petite pocket rocket of the group, slim with long blond hair she stood with her feet slightly apart while four girls bent over, two from each side and projected Liz into the air.
I took great joy in this, as Gemma was one of the girls bending to grab one of Liz’s feet. This was a rehearsal, the girls slowed down there moves. This gave me ample time to leer at the glorious view of Gemma’s white panties stretched sexily over the curves of her ass as she bent over to take Liz’s foot.
They threw the falsely smiling Liz into the air as she lifted her pom-poms. He skirts rising on the descent, showing her small tight panties. The four girls waited below to catch her, and on this occasion, one hand slipped up her inner thigh and caught her right between the legs.
Liz screamed and bent over more in embarrassment than pain as the other girls fought to keep from laughing.
“Fucking hell Mandy I almost lost my virginity then!” She blurted, causing all the girls to break out in laugh loud.
“You should be so lucky,” chided Gemma.
“Sorry Liz, My hand slipped,” giggled Mandy a sturdy bobble-headed brunette.
My joy in this was that it caused Gemma to bend over and grasp her knees as she laughed. It exposed her panties for a long time and had the added bonus of her laughter, making her bottom seemingly vibrate.
“Fuck don’t I know it!” feigned Liz theatrically with both her hands indignantly kaçak bahis forced up her skirt locked on her pelvis,
“If you want to feel me up, all you have to do is ask!”
Mandy smiled and looked at her offending hand and jokingly sniffed it,
“Is it your time?” Mandy sickly joked.
“Erh! Gross,” was the mass reply.
“We’ll talk later!” answered Liz with a smile as she withdrew her hands from her sensual haven and walked back to the group.
“All right girls!” demanded Sandra clapping her hands to bring order, “back to our practice.”
The sexy behaviour had me very erect, and I dropped my trousers and pants so I could pleasure myself. I stood at a distance from my window so I could caress myself at leisure without them seeing.
The girls went through their moves repeatedly. My eyes flitting from Gemma’s panties covering her ass to the descending Liz with her panty covered virgin vagina waiting to be caught.
“Okay, we’ve got that, now to the second part,” suggested Sandra. By now, Sandra was looking every bit as sexy as the others such was my built up passion.
They threw Liz into the air once more, caught her cleanly on the way down and then immediately threw her up a second time. On her descent, Liz did the splits, grabbed her by her lower thighs, span around once and halted!
The girls whooped in glee as they held the pose and I flexed to Liz’s split legs stretching her panties taunt across her maiden pussy.
I was close to coming, and then I heard, “James! James!” shouted up toward my bedroom by Sally. I panicked for a moment thinking they could see me until I heard, “Come and have a look at this!”
I looked around in a quandary, wondering what to do as Sally continued to bellow forth. “Leave your work for a moment and have a look at this.”
My relief was paramount as it gave away the belief that I was at my desk.
“Come on!” Sally desperately bellowed. I felt duty-bound to support my sister. I also thought it would be sexy and novel to be at my window bottomless with my trousers and pants around my ankles. With my erect penis signalling its approval, I shuffled towards my awaiting audience.
All the girls were looking up at me as if they could see my erection through the brick wall, an irrational sense that caused me to blush.
“Watch this!” enthused Sally as my erection stood as prominently as ever excited by the fact I could ogle these girls in a state of grace without them knowing. The girls went through their moves as I dared myself to take hold of my member. It proved too risky even though the girls were concentrating on their act.
They soon finished and held their end pose again with Liz’s crotch stretched and well exposed. I groaned at all the erotic suggestions her spread pussy put into my mind but had to make sure I wasn’t too apparent in my lust.
“Bravo!” I shouted as I clapped,” Well done!”
“You really like it!” Sally exclaimed full of excitement.
“Oh, yes! Do it again?”
“Yes, go on, prove it was no fluke.”
The girls got into position with me feeling guilty that I was encouraging my sister with a lie so I could masturbate.
On they went with their routine, and I pushed my erect cock unto the cold radiator beneath the window. A towel was hung over it to dry, and I managed to get enough friction rubbing up and down upon it to make myself ejaculate.
My bedroom door burst open with Mother holding an armful of blankets. I quickly tried to cover up urgently bending down to grab my trousers, revealing my still spurting penis.
“Oh my god! Mother cried, “A house full of perversion!”
She left slamming the door, and I solemnly raised my trousers and pants wanting to die.
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