XLIII

bykimbelina©

It was an old story, I know. The young woman who's struggling to pay her way through college. Realizes that she can make a pile of cash quickly if she's willing to take advantage of all of her assets. Great multi-tasking and organizational skills only got her 10 bucks an hour working in an office. But a little T&A could bring much more, and she'd have plenty of time for studying the rest of the week.

It really doesn't matter what brought me to this point. So I got in a little over my head with credit cards. So my parents hadn't helped out with expenses as much as I'd expected them to. So I'd loaned money to a friend when I should have been paying my rent. The point was, my back was against the wall, and I didn't see any other alternative.

By the time my Super Bowl job rolled around, I was actually starting to feel comfortable stripping. I had set a lot of rules for myself. I was careful about where I advertised. I did enough research to know where I should price myself - high enough to get respect, but not so high that guys felt entitled to more than just a show. And even though I was very secretive about my new line of work, I had one friend who always knew when I was out on a job. She knew where I'd be, and if I didn't call her by a certain time, she'd know to send help.

And I have to admit that I'd actually had fun investing in the, um, supplies, I needed to do this work. There was the wardrobe, there was the makeup, there were the accessories - all of which were out of character with my day-to-day life. Don't get me wrong, I am smokin' hot, if I may say so myself. I'm 5'7" with perfect legs and a 34C rack to match. My soft red hair cascades in natural curls down to my shoulders, framing my pretty face, my most prominent features being my big green eyes and full, pouty lips.

But I was the typical college student when it came to my clothes - Big State sweatshirt, jeans, hair tied up in a ponytail for class each day. So it was quite an adventure, my time spent at a few different lingerie shops, picking out matching bra and panty sets, a few teddies, garters, and fishnets. And then there was a picking out my cheerleader costume, my sexy nurse costume, my schoolgirl costume. Not to mention lipstick and blush in shades I'd normally never dream of. And a few pairs of heels which took a little practice...

Anyway, as I said, by the time Super Bowl Sunday arrived, I was getting comfortable. A few jobs under my belt, and there weren't any more butterflies. Just honest excitement at the prospect of making so much money so quickly and easily. I could tune out the occasional crude comment, watch guys rub themselves as I danced for them, and then go home to the peace and quiet of my apartment.

I parked (around the corner, out of sight, another of my safety measures) and made my way up the winding walk to the house. The guy who hired me had asked me to arrive at halftime; I knew I was early, but decided to ring the doorbell anyway. Maybe they'd be kind enough to let me watch the rest of the second quarter - I'd been listening to the game on the radio on my drive there - before I got to work.

Yes, it's true - I'm quite a sports fan. Enough so that I'd debated about taking this job, as it would mean I'd likely miss most, if not all, of the big game - my Cardinals taking on the fearsome Steelers. But, as usual, my need for money had won out. And besides, it wasn't like the Super Bowl wouldn't be covered in an endless stream of post-game shows.

A handsome 30-something guy opened the door, introduced himself as John, the one I'd talked with on the phone, and invited me in. There were five other guys there, each with a beer in hand and watching the game intently. They did look up to greet me, and I caught a couple of glances in John's direction, with not-so-subtle indications that he'd done good in hiring a halftime hottie, but, true guys that they were, their attention quickly returned to the game. After all, I was early.

I sat on the edge of the sofa, my winter coat still concealing my sexy cheerleader costume, and watched right along with them. My Cardinals were trailing with five minutes to go in the first half (in Super Bowl time, more like 25 minutes!) so I wasn't terribly encouraged, and my attention wandered to the men in the room. I was relieved to see that they weren't the typical frat crowd - my usual audience - but more the 30-something professional type.

When the half finally did come to an end, the score still unbalanced but not out of reach for the underdogs, it suddenly hit me I was in enemy territory. They were all Steelers fans. Black and gold everywhere. And while I certainly wasn't planning to advertise my allegiance, my cheerleader costume would give me away. Red and white. I was confident that my hot body would quickly distract them from this terrible treason, but braced for a few partisan comments nonetheless.

Taking a deep breath, I walked to the TV and turned it off, taking off my coat and tossing it aside to reveal my oh-so-tight cheerleader's uniform. I immediately had the attention of the room, all six guys finding a seat in a nearby chair or on the sectional, facing me. I was right, a few of them groaned and rolled their eyes, one even saying something about how I played for the other team, but I quickly won them over as I started to move.

While some of my costumes made me laugh - what is it with some of these male fantasies? - this cheerleader outfit actually turned me on. As I began to dance for them, I felt my skin warming to the touch of the fabric. The skin-tight red and white top, which I wore with no bra, hugged my shape perfectly, and my nipples began to press through the fabric as I moved. The ridiculously short pleated skirt could hide my sex from their view, as I coyly held my knees together, or put me on full display, as I put my back to them, bending down and exposing my ass, not at all contained by a sexy thong.

My hair was in two pigtails, tied up with red ribbons. The look was complete - a youthful cheerleader was being channeled by a slut, all grown up. And something new came over me on this day. Was it the adrenalyn of the game? The fact that I'd managed to get a rise out of all six guys after just a moment of dancing for them? Just how damned sexy I felt? Whatever it was, I was getting more and more turned on, and I decided to see how far I could take this particular dance - would I be able to distract them past half-time? Cause them to forget about turning on the TV again? After all, it looked like the Cardinals were done anyway...

A few lap dances were in order if I was going to pull this off. I started with John, taking a few steps until I straddled him, and began grinding against his crotch. The other guys cheered me on, hooting their encouragements, then their jealousy, and soon I moved on to the next guy, burying his face in my tits as I climbed on top of him and rubbed hard against him. He groaned with satisfaction, and pushed up against me, but stuck to the rules I'd given John - hands off.

It was when I moved on to the next guy that things took another step. I looked back at John just as he whipped out his hard cock and began stroking it. I smiled seductively as I moved on to guy number four, who stood for a mock blow job. Watching this seemed to get everyone going, and there were now three cocks being furiously pumped. As I watched them, I outwardly kept my cool, continuing my routine, but could feel my juices begin to flow. I'd assured myself this would never happen, but I was beginning to succumb to the atmosphere of sex I'd helped to create, beginning to want more than just the suggestion of sex with these strange men.

When this thought hit me, I blushed bright red, my cheeks now the color of my skimpy outfit. Six strange men, and I wanted them all. I stepped away, taking my front-and-center position once again, dancing for them all, all pleasuring themselves as they watched my body. I pushed the fabric of my top aside, allowing my tits to spring free, and began pinching my nipples, much to everyone's enjoyment.

"That's right," one of the men said, "Let's get you out of that awful red and white!"

Leaving my left hand to continue fondling my tits, I let my right fall to my crotch, slowly massaging my clit through the fabric of the pleated skirt. It wasn't part of the routine, but it was certainly working wonders on this horny set of guys. My eyes locked with one of the guys who I could tell was on the verge of his climax, and as I mouthed silently to him was a horny little slut I was, he came, shooting his load all over his stomach.

The other guys continued to stroke themselves, but we were all interrupted when the one who finished first -his right hand deserves the MVP! - looked at his watch and declared it was time to turn the game back on. My time was up, according to my original agreement with John, but things had changed, and I wasn't interested in packing up and going home quite yet. I looked at him, my hands still exploring my own body, my face still flushed, and he seemed to read my mind.

"I don't think our friend here is quite finished. Isn't that right, Sheridan?"

"Ooh, so she does have a name?" one of the other guys chimed in.

"A name, yes, but you'll never know if it's the real one," I replied coyly.

John stepped towards me, picking up the TV remote on his way. I was standing with my back to the TV, blocking the view for the guys. When John was directly in front of me, he pointed the remote at the TV, turning the game back on, and while the sounds of football filled the room, he stood tantalizingly close to me, his hard cock still exposed.

"I think you're going to need to move, sweetie, so you don't block the picture."

"No problem," I said, dropping to my knees in front of him and taking his cock into my mouth.

The guys didn't seem to mind that John was still blocking their view of the game, the live porn six feet in front of them not something they were about to interrupt. Before long, there was another cock presented to me, then another, and I took turns on each of them, sometimes working one with my hands as I took another into my mouth. As they kept watching the game, sometimes cheering, often swearing at the refs, I continued to pleasure them. If I tried to turn or pull away to see the play they were excited about, I was teased with a hard pinch of a nipple or a cock shoved in my mouth, blocking my view.

I couldn't believe the excitement rushing through my body. I'd never been with more than one guy at once, not to mention six. Not to mention strangers. Not to mention guys on a football high. Before the first timeout of the half, I'd brought two more guys to orgasm, their cum dribbling out of my mouth and covering my tits as their hands began to explore my body.

John pulled me up from my knees and led me to the sectional, where he positioned me on my back. He put two pillows under my head to bring me up to a level to suck his cock once again, while someone knelt between my legs and began licking and fingering me. I couldn't talk, my mouth full of big, hard cock, but I moaned with pleasure. As someone massaged my cum-covered breasts, I felt a cock plunge into my pussy, and screamed out with delight, my voice muffled as John continued to pound deep into my mouth.

This orgy continued, the men enjoying both me and the seemingly easy Steeler victory, well into the fourth quarter. Suddenly, some obviously spectacular play on the field captured the attention of one of the men, and I once again made an effort to see the TV.

"Oh, shit - did you guys see that?"

From their vantage points, the men could all clearly enjoy the replay, while I couldn't even manage a glimpse, John's torso still blocking my view. I heard enough to know that it was a long touchdown run for Arizona, and even as they were pounding into me, I did the math in my head - my team had taken the lead with just a few minutes left to play!

"Hmm, guys, Sheridan keeps trying to watch the game. Should we put her out of her misery?"

I wasn't sure what to expect, but John soon made his intentions clear. I was soon on my feet, my back to the TV, my hands resting on the back of the sofa, my pussy available for the taking from behind, and before I had a chance to protest, someone had plowed into me.

"Fine then, don't let me watch the game. Just make sure you fuck my tight little pussy hard! Your precious Steelers might lose, good thing I'm here to distract you!"

One of the men came around the back of the sofa and guided his cock into my mouth. Another sat on the sofa next to me and reached up to finger my clit as I was being pounded from behind. I wouldn't last much longer with all this attention, and sure enough, just a few moments later, erupted into a powerful orgasm. I collapsed to the sofa and rested there for a few moments, but was quickly turned on again as I watched the men watch me, stroking themselves. They were ready for more.

I was once again on my back, this time with each guy taking his turn, filling my hot, wet pussy with one cock after another. My mouth was now free, so I was able to encourage them with a range of moans, whimpers, and dirty talk. After several minutes of this, each man grabbing me by the hips and pounding into me, I was on the verge of an orgasm more powerful than I'd ever felt.

I wrapped my legs around the man lucky enough to be inside of me at that moment, while another fingered my clit, and cried out, writhing helplessly beneath them as the waves of pleasure washed over me. The man pulled out of me and a few of them took turns licking up my juices as I slowly came down from my climax. Soon, it was my turn to return the favor.

As the game came down to a few final dramatic plays, I knelt on the floor, the six men surrounding me, their cocks throbbing as they and I stroked them. The Steelers needed a field goal to tie, a touchdown to win. The guys were hoping for a comeback. If their team couldn't deliver, they'd have to settle for just covering me with cum. It wasn't long before the first load shot onto my chest, and for the next few minutes, I was covered with a steady stream of hot, sticky cum.

Each of them collapsed, spent, after they'd climaxed, and took in the final score of the game, still displayed on the screen as the confetti flew in the stadium. A catch in the edge of the endzone sealed it - the Steelers had come back dramatically and emphatically to win. Luckily for me, the combination of physical satisfaction and team pride resulted in a showering of tips, so I walked away with twice as much money as I've been expecting that day.

John was kind enough to let me use his shower, and after getting cleaned up, I took my money, thanked them, and made my way home.

There was a message from my friend when I arrived at my apartment about 20 minutes later. Oops - she was probably worried out of her mind! I called her back right away.

"Sorry to worry you, the guys let me stay for the rest of their party. What a game, huh?"

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