Cheerleader uniform

“I believe you did say you got to keep your cheerleading uniform, right? How about that?” I suggest. “That’s a great idea. But I don’t have it anywhere nearby.”

“You may not, but I do.” I stand up from the couch, open the door, reach my hand out as if I’m trying to grab something, and make her old cheerleading uniform out of nowhere. “I may have stopped by your place and got it.” I show her the uniform.

“Perfect. You wait right here while I get changed.” I sit down, eager to have my own private cheerleading performance. As if no time had passed, because it didn’t due to me speeding up her changing process, out comes Jackie, me personal cheerleader.

“OK. Are you ready?” she asks, with a peppy voice. “Yes,” I respond. It wasn’t loud enough because Jackie says, “I think you can do a little better than that. I said, ARE YOU READY?!” she asks, while jumping in place. Losing myself in the moment, I exclaim, “Hell yeah.”

“That’s more like it. Now, I’m going to need a little audience participation for this part.” She points to her audience of one. “Now, give me a C!” “C!”

“Give me an O!” “O!”

“Give me a “C!” “C!”

“Give me a “K!” “K!”

“What does that spell?” Jackie asks me. “Cock.”

“That’s right! Give me your ...

“COCK!” she cheers lifting up her skirt at the end to emphasize where she wants it.

“Well, how can I say no to that offer?”