Cheerleader's Revenge

She hoped she was right.

She couldn't take many more of these nightmares…

April 5^th — 2:00 PM, Jenny's Home

Jenny Thompson was sure she had never seen a more festively decorated home. Balloons, streamers, and platters of food all stood ready for the hundred or so expected guests.

Certainly, her home had never been this bright.

She went over the schedule of events in her mind, one last time: guests would probably start showing up within the next hour with most arriving by 6:00 o'clock, some light partying (couple kegs at the ready plus many other libations) until 8:00, a few words by the father of the bride, a few more words by the mother of the groom, a tribute by friends (who knew how that would go? Stone and Anna had steadfastly refused to let her coordinate the tribute, but they promised to keep it clean) of both bride and groom, quick thank you's from Jenny and John Boy, and then just wicked partying until everybody passed out.

That was the plan, and it seemed like a good one.

Jenny went over the supplies and decorations a final time before putting on her makeup and getting ready for the party.

The fun was about to begin…

*

Two and a half hours later, a dozen people had already shown up. Anna and the girls were in place shortly after 2:00, to help Jenny welcome everyone and make sure the 'help' was doing their duties. The 'help' was a handful of workers from the catering company who were dressed in serving outfits and charged with maintaining the food, drinks, and decorations. Their primary purpose was to ensure that everything was just right, all the time.

All the prep work done, all her girls and the help in place, Jenny could finally just relax and breathe. She manned the door, radiant in a simple but elegant white flower-print summer dress.

The thin dress was very complimentary; it clung to her body in all the right places, tight and low enough to be slightly daring, loose and high enough to discourage gawking. Jenny eschewed both bra and panties, preferring instead the soft breeze that played between her thighs and under her arms. Her long blonde hair curled around her shoulders, framing an unlined face glowing brilliantly around sky blue eyes. She was a picture out of Cosmopolitan, stunning girl-next-door beauty with an undeniable figure and dazzling smile.

Jenny looked very, very good tonight.

*

Everything was phenomenal, the people, the food, the music, all of it better than Jenny would have ever imagined. Early on, they had to call the catering company and order more food; almost 100 guests arrived by 6:00 o'clock and folks were still streaming in, more than they expected, but thankfully they had a backup plan.

She took another big swig of beer.

"Great party," a voice said in her ear.

Jenny turned on her future husband and smiled.

"Hell yeah," she replied, putting down her drink and throwing her arms around his neck.

It seemed like every room in the house was full of talking and laughing. As fast as empty bottles and cleared plates were laid down, one of the catering crew would pick them up, trying their best to keep the place clean.

One of the crew was a smaller girl, about 5'2, with short black hair and ordinary brown eyes. Her headgear was pulled low and she kept her head down everywhere she went. She didn't want to draw any attention to herself—not here, not tonight. Ella Sanders, catering crewmember, was painfully aware of the potential consequences should anyone recognize her. Not that she expected them to. She had strapped her big breasts down, hiding them the best she could. Her freshly cut short hair was now jet-black, a look she didn't expect to draw any particular attention. Brown contacts concealed her radiant sea green eyes. Extensive tanning sessions the last month left her skin considerably darker than it was back in the days she had been a student at Key Biscayne Junior College. Every part of her disguise was carefully considered; at a glance, she might have been a random Latina working for the catering company, you would have to look very closely to think otherwise. Robert approved the disguise, and here she was.

Of course, she had to be here. After Robert laid out the plan for her, after she felt the surge in her chest, the quickening of her pulse as he described in detail what he was going to do, she KNEW she had to be there to see it through. She stood ready to provide any needed assistance, but all Robert wanted was her presence, for her to be there to see it unfold, to know that it wasn't over, not yet.

It was far from fucking over.

Robert Sanders was there as well. He was, for all intents and purposes, a guest. A social butterfly, he flowed from conversation to conversation with ease, rubbing elbows and glad-handing like a politician. There were so many guests in attendance that casual acquaintances were fairly common. Naturally, Robert knew all of the principals involved: Jack Thompson, John Boy, Stone, Stu, Ricky, Roscoe, and Dave, among others, as well as Jenny, Anna, Audrey, Maggie, and the rest of the cheerleaders. He knew them all by name, talked about the wedding, the planning, and the honeymoon, all of it. He schmoozed them like old friends he had known for years. He had gone to pains to ingratiate himself with them—

All according to plan.

*

After following her around awhile, Robert was finally able to pin Jenny alone. He moved in quickly. Smiling, he tilted his drink and said, "Congratulations! You two are going to be great together!"

Jenny smiled warmly and tilted hers in turn. "Thank you so much! Having a good time?"

Robert took a sip, nodded. "Oh yes, I think this party is going to get pretty lively tonight."

Jenny laughed. "I think so, too. I can't believe how many people showed up! I don't know them all, but of course they all know me," she said, taking a drink. When she spoke, her words ran together slightly—not quite slurred, not quite drunk, but definitely buzzing in a big way.

"Of course, you're very popular. By the way, you look stunning tonight," Robert said, and it was the truth. His eyes dropped, pausing at her barely discernible nipples, then roamed further down to her hips, noting with approval the way her dress hugged and accentuated their curves. He brought his gaze back up to Jenny's bright blue eyes and smiled wistfully. "Would've been a beautiful bride," he muttered in a strange mixture of admiration and contempt. She was just about the hottest—and cruelest—thing he had ever laid eyes on.

Jenny didn't hear the last, so when Robert opened his arms to give her a hug she obliged. She had given and received plenty of hugs tonight.

"He wants you to meet him out back," Robert whispered in her ear.

"What?" Jenny asked. Robert held her close, one hand on the curve of her lower back, pressing her firm breasts into his chest.

"John Boy, he wants to meet you out back in five minutes. Said it was urgent."

Jenny pulled away. "Out back? But it's dark out there, we didn't decorate or turn on the lights or anything."

Robert shrugged. "I don't know. Do what you want," he said, smiling sheepishly. "He told me to tell you."

Jenny thought a moment, and then grinned wickedly. "Wants to meet me out back, eh?" she asked sarcastically. "I'm sure he does!"

She and Robert shared a laugh. Robert sighed in relief as Jenny meandered through the crowd, heading to the sliding glass door. 'Good, very good,' he thought, taking a big swig of his drink. He put it down and headed to the living room.

Everything was going according to the plan.

*

A hush fell over the crowd as the projection screen began to drop from the ceiling. It was huge, filling an entire wall. When everything was finally in place, the lights dimmed and an image appeared onscreen.

Jack Thompson: "Yeah, John Boy's alright. He's always been very respectful of my Jenny. She's a real catch, son—you better do her right!" he added, holding up his fist.

Laughter filled the air.

Word of the presentation had gotten around quickly; people were swarming in to get a view.

The image changed to John Boy, sitting in a recliner. "Jenny is so great. What can I say? I love her."

A collective "Aawww" fell across the crowd, with some scattered applause.

Stone appeared onscreen: "What a disgusting couple, huh? I think it's fair to say John Boy is marrying WAY over his head!"

Everybody laughed. John Boy, in the audience, smiled and shrugged. He was looking around for Jenny, but couldn't find her. He turned his attention back to the screen, sure that she would eventually find him. She always did.

Stu appeared onscreen: "Yeah, I mean, we partied a lot. A LOT. Jenny was always a little wild. I mean, she never did anything with any of us," he added quickly—

A burst of laughter.

—"but she was always ready to kind of push things in the right direction. She was a player's cheerleader, if you know what I mean."

Ricky appeared onscreen: "Jesus, John Boy, you had to send out a guy with a video camera to record me saying good things about you?"

Roars of laughter filled the room.

Ricky was still onscreen: "Yeah, it's true, he's great. That Jenny, wow, I mean, we had some good times."

More laughter; only, this time it was a bit more uncertain.

Stone appeared onscreen: "What's the question?" He looked confused.

Roscoe appeared onscreen: "Yeah, I liked her," he said, wide-eyed.

Ricky appeared onscreen: "Always wondered what she did, you know? To deserve all that?"

There were murmurs in the crowd. What was this about? Stone looked around uncomfortably.

Dave appeared onscreen: "Said she asked for it, I don't know. Stone said it was ok."

Stone appeared onscreen: "It was Jenny, she… she kind of pushed it, you know?"

A grainy image of a naked woman appeared onscreen; barely 20 years old, she was on her knees in the grass, with her back to the camera, bent over a chaise lounge. Jenny was holding down one arm while Audrey held down the other. There was a young guy, bronzed, muscular, behind the naked woman, thrusting fiercely. It was obvious the naked woman was resisting, she seemed to be pleading with Jenny—

The image was onscreen for less than five seconds—but it was long enough to start more muttering, and frenzied whispering filled the room.

"Turn it off!" a voice called out. Stone Moore. He could be seen, looking up at the ceiling-mounted projector. "Turn it off!"

Stu appeared onscreen: "Yeah, I never got to hit that shit. All I ever got was a fuckin' blowjob!" he said, laughing wickedly.

Ricky appeared onscreen: "Jenny said, 'Fuck the bitch, she deserves it.' Who was I to argue?"

*

Outside, it was getting dark. They hadn't decorated or planned for any partying out back, theory being it wasn't a good idea to mix this many people with alcohol and a swimming pool. Therefore, the decision was made to declare it out of bounds and just leave the lights off, keeping everybody inside. Now, Jenny stood outside in the twilight, staring down at the pool's edge, listening to the water softly lapping against the side. She couldn't help but smile; she loved the pool.

She had a lot of good memories back here.

She felt hands on her shoulders, sighed as they softly squeezed and rubbed.

"Hey," she said, leaning back. "You made it."

"Unnh hunhh," he responded.

"Gonna be all quiet tonight, are you?"

"Unnh hunhh."

Jenny laughed and tried to turn around; his arms held her firmly in place, pulled her back into his chest. He reached around and cupped her breasts over the summer dress, squeezed them firmly.

"Naughty," she purred, closing her eyes. His hands felt so good…

*

He shuffled her over and around, until they were facing a chaise lounge. His hands pushed her down; on her knees, she leaned on the chaise lounge, supporting the rest of her body weight on her arms.

"Dirty boy" she whispered thickly, judgment clouded by the accumulation of drinks. "Fuck me," she hissed, wiggling her ass.

He ran his hands around her ass, rubbing and squeezing. He ran a fingertip between her cheeks (her response was a guttural moan) before grabbing the hem of the thin summer dress and hiking it up past her hips. He dropped a hand down between her thighs and ran his middle finger along her outer lips.

Instant moisture flooded Jenny's vagina. She was ready to fuck.

He wasted no time, moved forward and pressed his cock to the fore, seeking entry.

"Hurry," she said, reaching her hand down and guiding him in. "Come on," she encouraged, urgency in her voice. "Fuck me."

He obliged, lunging so that his cock slammed in all at once.

"Fuck yeah," Jenny said, resting her head on the chaise lounge. She was buzzing hard, barely able to concentrate. She focused on the penetration, on the cock buried deep inside her. She felt more full than she could ever remember. "It even feels different tonight, baby, feels bigger," she slurred. "Fuck that hole!"

Robert Sanders, cock settled all the way inside, couldn't help grinning.

Jenny Thompson was a freak.

*

He reached up and yanked the dress off her shoulders, ripping the spaghetti shoulder straps and freeing her medium-sized breasts to dangle below. He reached down, pinching the pale pink nipples as he slow-fucked her cunt in smooth strokes.

"Faster," she begged, almost whining, "You always do it faster." She felt the anxious pressure building, much slower than normal. John Boy always got frantic, fucked her hard and fast; it was usually a race to see who could get off first, a race she sometimes won, and sometimes lost. Tonight was different; he was going much slower than usual, increasing his pace in slow, measured steps. She didn't know how to handle it, felt her pussy clutching his hot cock greedily, frantically chasing the breathtaking release she knew lingered just barely out of reach. "Faster," she repeated, breathing heavily. "Please…" she begged in desperation.

'Not yet,' he thought to himself, unable to deny how good her body was, or the strength of his response. He was ready to pound it, to ruthlessly fuck that hole. The time would come and he would oblige—

But not yet.

'Wait for it,' he told himself, steadily moving back and forth. He looked straight ahead, at the dimly lit house windows, and listened to the din of noise from inside. 'Almost time.'

*

"—and then I was like, 'Damn, what the fuck is she doing?'" Stone's voice said onscreen. "I mean, she was taking it pretty far."

"Did you stop it?" a voice asked onscreen.

The onscreen Stone shook his head. "Nope, but I… well, I couldn't let it go without… " He looked around suspiciously. "You already know about it, right?"

The voice again: "The video?"

Onscreen, Stone grinned. "Yeah, the video, dog. Wanna see it?

By now, the audience was decidedly uncomfortable. This had strayed somewhat from the usual Groom's Roast, instead diverging into some kind of sordid confessional. And then there was the five-second video, with Jenny holding down some girl's arm…

Stone couldn't figure out how to turn it off; he was frantically trying to find a switch, something, ANYTHING, to stop what he now knew was coming.

Roscoe appeared onscreen: "Had some big ol' titties. Roscoe like big ol' titties."

Stu appeared onscreen: "I should have pumped that shit when I had the chance!" he said, laughing. "Instead, I saved it for Stone. Ungrateful bastard!"

Jenny, scowling, appeared onscreen: "How did you find out about her?"

The grainy image again appeared onscreen, the young man pounding it home, the victim—make no mistake, she was a victim—being held down on one side by Jenny, on the other by Audrey. It played for five seconds before Jenny again appeared, alone, onscreen.

"Fuck that bitch," Jenny whispered onscreen, slurring slightly. She seemed to have been drinking. "She had it comin'..."

Stone appeared onscreen: "Yeah, I hit it first. It was so fucking tight."

Ricky appeared onscreen: "I came all over that bitch. Jenny said go for it, said she deserved it." He grinned, pleased with himself, and shrugged as if to say, 'What are you going to do?'

Dave appeared onscreen: "We're not going to get in trouble, are we? Stone said it was ok."

Stone appeared onscreen: "Jenny said it was ok."

Jenny appeared onscreen: "Fuck that bitch," she repeated in her slur, a repeat of the previous clip. "She had it comin'…"

The grainy image again appeared onscreen; only this time there was sound, poor quality but good enough to hear the words.

*

"Why—," Ella whispered, shaking her head, "UUNNGGHH." Interrupted, she continued: "Why—UUNNGGHH—are—UUNNGGHH—you—UUNNGGAAHHHH—doing—UNGH—this—UUNNGGHH—to—AHHHH—me…"

Her body shook with each blow, pendulous breasts bounding forward and back, forward and back, head jolting in time. Her arms and knees were sore from the abuse.

Jenny bent forward, her face inches from Ella's.

"You don't know?" she asked softly. Ella lifted her head, tried to focus on Jenny as the cruel pounding continued.

"No," she replied.

"Don't you remember? The first time you went in the closet, you came out and lifted your arms, flashing those fat ass titties for EVERYBODY to see. We all saw your ridiculous nipples—even John Boy. Oh, he tried to look away, he hoped I wouldn't notice, but I fucking DID. So, you wanted to be a whore, huh? Fuckin' with my man, huh? Fine bitch! FINE! I made sure they treated you like one!" Jenny's voice increased in volume as she spoke, nostrils flared, breathing heavily. "Oh, I was gonna let Stoney and the fellas have a little fun with you," she continued, eyes blazing pure hatred, "but after that little stunt it was no fuckin' holds barred." She paused, nodding. "You got initiated, bitch."

'No,' Ella thought, 'it wasn't like that. I—' Her eyes watered again; tears fell, splashing against the chair. Her head slumped down, shoulders shook as a sob wracked through her, followed by another; all while the ruthless pounding continued, unabated. "I wasn't…" she whispered between sobs, trying to respond.

"That's right, take it bitch," Jenny continued, right in Ella's face. "It's just more of the same, nothing a slut like you can't handle, right? You bought this shit, you little cunt, so fuckin' OWN IT!" She practically screamed the last, spittle flying in Ella's face.

Dave, all but oblivious to the exchange, tightened his grip on Ella's waist, pulled back powerfully in time with his urgent pelvic thrusts. He was rutting now; the wracking of Ella's body, as she broke down in tears, finally triggered his release.

"FffuuuuccCCKKKKK YYYYEEEAAAHHHHH!" he bellowed, unleashing a torrent of hot semen deep inside Ella's battered pussy. He continued pumping, gradually relenting until his motions were exaggeratedly slow; the feel, every inch of Ella's cunt fiercely clutching his veiny cock, was intoxicating. Finally he stopped moving, completely spent.

Dave pulled out and away quickly, heading back to the pool where he grabbed his trunks. He pulled them on, picked up a towel, and headed back into the house.

Exhausted, Ella couldn't hold her weight up anymore, and collapsed onto the lounge chair. Still naked, she laid on her stomach, hunched over, her face twisted in harsh denial. She felt his discharge oozing out; the clumpy cum ran down her thighs, it was everywhere.